watch, I don’t care,” she said as she pulled that beautiful blue top off and he spun on his heels, looking at the ceiling to make sure he couldn’t catch her in his periphery. Behind him he heard the movement of more clothes and her footsteps on the tile of the bathroom and then the snap of the frosted shower door shutting.
He dropped the first aid kit back on top of his bag and tucked the syringe into the case. She’d called the liquid Dreamland like she knew what it was. Hell, she acted like she knew what was happening here better than he did. What socialite was calm and composed in the midst of dead bodies and a kidnapping? A better question, what socialite spent the night in a prison cell constructed in the basement of an Italian villa?
Too many questions that he really didn’t need to ask. He really shouldn’t ask.
Moving to the doorway he kept his back to the shower, and the question tumbled out. “What did you mean when you said it would kill ‘a human’?”
Her voice echoed in the shower, “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?”
“What do you mean?” He turned slightly to send his voice into the bathroom, but told himself he was going to stare at the wall and not her outline through the frosted glass.
“Let me ask you this – do you know what I am?”
“A girl worth 2.5 million pounds,” Alaric replied bluntly, and he heard her laugh a little.
“And why would I be worth that?” The laugh had made her voice lighter, almost lyrical.
“That’s not my business.”
“Ah, well, you should make it your business to know what you sign up for.” She sounded a little mocking as the smell of shampoo filled the room, and the steam started to fog the top edge of the mirror.
He was not going to look at the shape of her behind the glass. “I prefer to know as little as possible about my jobs. Bare bones.”
“So, I’m a job?”
“Yes.” When he said it, it was also to remind himself. This is a job. She is a job. He shouldn’t even be having this conversation.
“Good to know.” Her casual response caught him off guard again. How could she possibly be so calm after she’d watched him step over bodies that he had killed, then watched him blow up a gate? How could she be so okay ? This was going to drive him insane.
“Why are you so calm about all of this?” There was more bite to the question than he meant for it, but she was confounding him.
“Who I belong to doesn’t matter, it makes no difference to me.” Her voice synced with the sound of water being wrung out of her hair, the heavy splash of it echoing against the tile.
“And what do you mean by belong to?” Alaric asked the question before he realized his mouth had opened.
“I thought you didn’t want details.”
“I don’t.” He turned his head and caught her silhouette in the white glass of the shower, and he couldn’t look away. Her curves showed up as she bent backwards to rinse her hair. She’d mentioned being sold – who the hell was she?
Details only cause problems. Don’t learn about your targets.
“Okay. I won’t give details then. So tell me, who hired you?” It seemed that she looked at him through the glass.
“I don’t know that. You’ll find out when I bring you to him. I didn’t speak directly with him.”
“Fair enough.” She said as the water suddenly turned off, and the door to the shower opened. Alaric spun around, cursing as he put his back against the doorframe.
“Give me a warning!” He rubbed a hand over his face and could smell the gunpowder on his skin. Her laugh echoed off the walls behind him.
“Never seen a girl naked?” She was still laughing, but it was a mesmerizing sound.
His mind was filling in the outline of her he’d seen in the shower, and he rubbed his face again to stop himself. “Of course I have, but that’s not the point. And Jesus, how old are you? Twenty? Less?”
More laughter that made him want to give in and ask her name,
He dropped the first aid kit back on top of his bag and tucked the syringe into the case. She’d called the liquid Dreamland like she knew what it was. Hell, she acted like she knew what was happening here better than he did. What socialite was calm and composed in the midst of dead bodies and a kidnapping? A better question, what socialite spent the night in a prison cell constructed in the basement of an Italian villa?
Too many questions that he really didn’t need to ask. He really shouldn’t ask.
Moving to the doorway he kept his back to the shower, and the question tumbled out. “What did you mean when you said it would kill ‘a human’?”
Her voice echoed in the shower, “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?”
“What do you mean?” He turned slightly to send his voice into the bathroom, but told himself he was going to stare at the wall and not her outline through the frosted glass.
“Let me ask you this – do you know what I am?”
“A girl worth 2.5 million pounds,” Alaric replied bluntly, and he heard her laugh a little.
“And why would I be worth that?” The laugh had made her voice lighter, almost lyrical.
“That’s not my business.”
“Ah, well, you should make it your business to know what you sign up for.” She sounded a little mocking as the smell of shampoo filled the room, and the steam started to fog the top edge of the mirror.
He was not going to look at the shape of her behind the glass. “I prefer to know as little as possible about my jobs. Bare bones.”
“So, I’m a job?”
“Yes.” When he said it, it was also to remind himself. This is a job. She is a job. He shouldn’t even be having this conversation.
“Good to know.” Her casual response caught him off guard again. How could she possibly be so calm after she’d watched him step over bodies that he had killed, then watched him blow up a gate? How could she be so okay ? This was going to drive him insane.
“Why are you so calm about all of this?” There was more bite to the question than he meant for it, but she was confounding him.
“Who I belong to doesn’t matter, it makes no difference to me.” Her voice synced with the sound of water being wrung out of her hair, the heavy splash of it echoing against the tile.
“And what do you mean by belong to?” Alaric asked the question before he realized his mouth had opened.
“I thought you didn’t want details.”
“I don’t.” He turned his head and caught her silhouette in the white glass of the shower, and he couldn’t look away. Her curves showed up as she bent backwards to rinse her hair. She’d mentioned being sold – who the hell was she?
Details only cause problems. Don’t learn about your targets.
“Okay. I won’t give details then. So tell me, who hired you?” It seemed that she looked at him through the glass.
“I don’t know that. You’ll find out when I bring you to him. I didn’t speak directly with him.”
“Fair enough.” She said as the water suddenly turned off, and the door to the shower opened. Alaric spun around, cursing as he put his back against the doorframe.
“Give me a warning!” He rubbed a hand over his face and could smell the gunpowder on his skin. Her laugh echoed off the walls behind him.
“Never seen a girl naked?” She was still laughing, but it was a mesmerizing sound.
His mind was filling in the outline of her he’d seen in the shower, and he rubbed his face again to stop himself. “Of course I have, but that’s not the point. And Jesus, how old are you? Twenty? Less?”
More laughter that made him want to give in and ask her name,
Similar Books
