were sleeping together for months.”
“If you’re under the impression that I give you much thought in my day-to-day life, then you’re dead wrong, baby. You’re not even a blip on my radar.”
“Uh-huh. Of course I’m not. I’m sure you didn’t think about me and D at all.” She absently toyed with a strand of her golden hair. “You didn’t picture us naked together, didn’t imagine how I looked when your soldier made me come. Right, Jim?”
His jaw clenched.
“Say what you want about that man, but he knows how to make a woman scream.” Noelle’s lips curved in a secretive smile. “He’s cold as ice outside the bedroom, but between the sheets? Molten lava.”
Morgan didn’t respond. He refused to give her the satisfaction. Refused to let her get to him.
“Does it make you hard? Thinking about me coming?”
His groin stirred.
And damn it, he knew she noticed it.
Cursing his body’s betrayal, he offered a careless shrug. “You want to know what gets me hard, Noelle?”
She eyed him thoughtfully. “What?”
“The thought of wrapping my hands around your throat and squeezing.”
Her laughter danced between them. “Bring it on, baby.”
Joachim chose that moment to return with their drinks. He served Morgan first, then leaned over to hand Noelle a steaming cup of coffee, his blond hair falling onto his forehead as he did so.
“Joachim,” she said in a throaty voice. “My friend has expressed some interest in watching you fuck me. How do you feel about that?”
Morgan nearly crushed the ceramic mug between his stiff fingers.
Joachim straightened up with an intrigued smile. “I’m here to do your bidding. You know that,
älskling
.”
Noelle glanced at Morgan, then released a delighted laugh before turning back to the young Swede. “Ah, another time, honey. I see that our guest has changed his mind.”
“As you wish.” Without another word, Joachim left them alone again.
“You’re a real piece of work,” Morgan said flatly.
With a sweet smile, she took a sip of coffee.
He did the same, the hot liquid burning a path down his throat and joining the anger and bitterness bubbling in his stomach. It was mostly self-directed anger, though. As unaffected as he tried to be around Noelle, she always succeeded in riling him up.
But why did he let her? He knew exactly what kind of woman she was—cold, cruel, self-serving. So why wasn’t his carefully constructed armor ever enough to fully shield himself from her poison?
Because she wasn’t always this way
.
He stifled a sigh. No, she hadn’t always been like this, and though it pained him to admit it, he knew he was wholly responsible for the woman she’d become.
The reminder brought a flash of guilt, quickly followed by the burn of resentment. Fine, so maybe he’d stolen her innocence, but she’d taken something from him too, something far more important than girlhood fuckin’ purity.
And one of these days, he was going to make her pay for it.
• • •
“She’s been asking questions again.”
The man at the window didn’t turn around, but Nikolaus Bauer saw his shoulders stiffen beneath his black cashmere Valentino blazer.
Nik walked into the library and paused near a bookshelf with rows and rows of German classics. He waited for his boss to respond, but as the silence dragged on, he felt compelled to repeat himself.
“Did you hear me? She’s asking questions.”
“I heard you, Nikolaus.”
The fair-haired man moved away from the floor-to-ceiling glass panels and went to the bar to pour a drink. He only drank German whiskey, no matter how many times Nik reminded him there were much finer brands of liquor available to him. But Walther Dietrich was a nationalist to the core. He’d been living in France for the past decade, went by a French name, and wore French designer clothes, yet the man would always be a German at heart.
Sipping on his glass of Höhler whiskey, Dietrich turned to Nik with
“If you’re under the impression that I give you much thought in my day-to-day life, then you’re dead wrong, baby. You’re not even a blip on my radar.”
“Uh-huh. Of course I’m not. I’m sure you didn’t think about me and D at all.” She absently toyed with a strand of her golden hair. “You didn’t picture us naked together, didn’t imagine how I looked when your soldier made me come. Right, Jim?”
His jaw clenched.
“Say what you want about that man, but he knows how to make a woman scream.” Noelle’s lips curved in a secretive smile. “He’s cold as ice outside the bedroom, but between the sheets? Molten lava.”
Morgan didn’t respond. He refused to give her the satisfaction. Refused to let her get to him.
“Does it make you hard? Thinking about me coming?”
His groin stirred.
And damn it, he knew she noticed it.
Cursing his body’s betrayal, he offered a careless shrug. “You want to know what gets me hard, Noelle?”
She eyed him thoughtfully. “What?”
“The thought of wrapping my hands around your throat and squeezing.”
Her laughter danced between them. “Bring it on, baby.”
Joachim chose that moment to return with their drinks. He served Morgan first, then leaned over to hand Noelle a steaming cup of coffee, his blond hair falling onto his forehead as he did so.
“Joachim,” she said in a throaty voice. “My friend has expressed some interest in watching you fuck me. How do you feel about that?”
Morgan nearly crushed the ceramic mug between his stiff fingers.
Joachim straightened up with an intrigued smile. “I’m here to do your bidding. You know that,
älskling
.”
Noelle glanced at Morgan, then released a delighted laugh before turning back to the young Swede. “Ah, another time, honey. I see that our guest has changed his mind.”
“As you wish.” Without another word, Joachim left them alone again.
“You’re a real piece of work,” Morgan said flatly.
With a sweet smile, she took a sip of coffee.
He did the same, the hot liquid burning a path down his throat and joining the anger and bitterness bubbling in his stomach. It was mostly self-directed anger, though. As unaffected as he tried to be around Noelle, she always succeeded in riling him up.
But why did he let her? He knew exactly what kind of woman she was—cold, cruel, self-serving. So why wasn’t his carefully constructed armor ever enough to fully shield himself from her poison?
Because she wasn’t always this way
.
He stifled a sigh. No, she hadn’t always been like this, and though it pained him to admit it, he knew he was wholly responsible for the woman she’d become.
The reminder brought a flash of guilt, quickly followed by the burn of resentment. Fine, so maybe he’d stolen her innocence, but she’d taken something from him too, something far more important than girlhood fuckin’ purity.
And one of these days, he was going to make her pay for it.
• • •
“She’s been asking questions again.”
The man at the window didn’t turn around, but Nikolaus Bauer saw his shoulders stiffen beneath his black cashmere Valentino blazer.
Nik walked into the library and paused near a bookshelf with rows and rows of German classics. He waited for his boss to respond, but as the silence dragged on, he felt compelled to repeat himself.
“Did you hear me? She’s asking questions.”
“I heard you, Nikolaus.”
The fair-haired man moved away from the floor-to-ceiling glass panels and went to the bar to pour a drink. He only drank German whiskey, no matter how many times Nik reminded him there were much finer brands of liquor available to him. But Walther Dietrich was a nationalist to the core. He’d been living in France for the past decade, went by a French name, and wore French designer clothes, yet the man would always be a German at heart.
Sipping on his glass of Höhler whiskey, Dietrich turned to Nik with
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