Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance by Lara Swann Page B

face as he realized what I was implying - before it
shifted to obvious anger. “ Fuck.”
    The hand resting next to
me clenched into a fist and he took a deep breath. When his gaze returned to
me, the heat there radiated danger and intensity, but the cocky smile made it
obvious he’d regained control - and turned that look into something almost
seductive. He ran his eyes up and down my body and I had to lean back against
the wall as my knees weakened.
    “I’ve looked at you the
same way any hot-blooded man with eyes would, princess.” His hand curled
through my hair and I bit my lip as he leaned in to murmur against my ear. “But
I don’t touch women like that - I don’t have to.”
    From the way he was
making my heart jump against my chest, I believed him. The bastard had
kidnapped me and still managed to reduce me to a puddle on the floor - god help
any ordinary woman.
    He glanced up at me,
mouth inches from mine with a knowing look that told me he saw exactly what he
was doing to me.
    “Unless of course, that’s
what you’d like?” The seductive growl made me shudder and for one terrifying
moment, I thought I was going to say yes .
    But the shock of that was
enough to have me jerking back, scowling at him as I reminded myself about
everything that had happened.
    How dare he?!
    “You killed my fiance!” I
injected all the outrage I could find into my voice, relieved to finally start
feeling some of it again.
    The amused smirk was
still on his face, and his hand wandered down to the side of my neck, tilting
my head up to him.
    “I’m not hearing no. ”
The low whisper made me shudder again, but this time I couldn’t tell whether it
was from pleasure or anger.
    “No!” I snapped it at
him, jerking away from his touch and trying to feel disgusted by the advance.
Arrogant bastard. He’d killed the man I was going to marry, and now he thought
that I was just going to fall at his feet?
    You were falling at his
feet.
    I silenced the errant
voice at the back of my mind - I was just confused, that was all. Confused and
tired as hell, and he was taking advantage, damn it.
    He withdrew slowly, still
looking at me intently, with that infuriating smirk on his lips. “Then no, I
won’t touch you, baby. I’m not the kind of guy who needs to force a woman.”
    He finally let go of the
hand above my head and I brought it down against my chest, shaking it out and
glaring at him. He glanced around the room again, and then his mood clearly
shifted back to business. The traitorous part of me was disappointed, but I
knew I needed to do the same - take a step back, process, then work out what to
do with all this new information.
    He pulled out the key to
the handcuffs and then cursed as he looked down at my wrist for the first time.
“Fuck, Alessa - what did you do to yourself?”
    My attention finally
returned to my stinging wrist and I winced as I saw the dried blood there,
scowling back at him. “What did I do? You’re the one who left me like
this, asshole.”
    “You were supposed to go
to sleep.” His muttered comment was followed by a light sigh and for a brief
moment, I got the impression that he was as tired as I was. Then it passed and
he shook his head, fitting the key into the metal cuffs and opening them in one
smooth movement.
    I brought my arm up and
moved it around, something about the sudden freedom making me want to use it
immediately. The shallow cut opened again as I flexed my wrist and I hissed at
the pain. He reached for it, but I clutched it to my chest and continued to
shoot daggers at him instead.
    That’s it. Stay angry. If
you’re angry, you can’t be—
    “Well, if you’re done
with all this,” he gestured around the room, “there’s pizza in the kitchen.”
    “I’m not hungry.” My voice
sounded petulant even to my own ears, and I was pretty sure my words were a
lie. Sure, it was after midnight and my body wasn’t complaining about food -
but I hadn’t eaten much all day, and I