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Keeping Ashley Morrow distracted is going to be a challenge I enjoy. There’s intelligence in her eyes, but I can’t just keep her pinned to my bed until we find out why she was placed as a mole in my world.
And I have no interest in using... traditional methods of extracting that information from her.
She’s in the kitchen, her hair wet, and tied into a loose knot, strands escaping around her face. She’s wearing the clothes the housekeeper left out, a soft t-shirt, and a pair of stretchy jeans. She’s bra-less, I can see from the way the shirt catches on her nipples, and a pulse of heat sounds in my groin.
"Hungry?" she asks, gesturing to the plate in front of her, where half a sandwich too tidily made to have been prepared by anything other than my houekeeper, remains. There’s a hint of a smile on her lips. Like she isn’t aware she’s a prisoner in my home. She’s a good actress, my little spy, but I’m going to put the pressure on her.
"Starving," I reply, injected some heat into my voice, and the flush on her cheeks is delightful. "Did you have a good sleep?"
"The best," she says, her eyes dropping from mine, and she looks at her lap, her hands in her lap. "I... did you want to have sex again?"
"Is that an invitation?" I ask, and her cheeks flush deeper.
"N-no," she says, stuttering, and then looks up at me, her eyes wide. But it is, although I don’t think it’s the most natural of invitations. I have other plans for her today, anyway.
"Not that you aren’t beautiful, standing here in my kitchen," I say, my voice hot with possession because it’s doing something to me to see her in my home, wearing clothes that my money bought. "I have other plans for today."
She looks almost relieved, and disappointed at the same time.
"Such as?"
"First, we’re going to go out." I watch her with barely veiled hunger. I would prefer to throw her across the island in my kitchen and show her how good it feels to have me go down on her in the middle of the day.
But we have more important things to attend to. Getting to know her more deeply is first. Dani might be doing the legwork out there, but I know I can prod some real information out of Ashley now that I have her in my possession.
"You can’t—" she starts, and then bites her lip, her eyes wide.
"I can’t what, Ash? I already know you have a record—" she inhales at this revelation, meeting my gaze even though she’s scared. I can see it in the way her fingers tighten on the counter. "And it doesn’t take much to make things difficult for you. Putting a key-logger on one of my computer systems? Just because I operate outside of the bounds of the law doesn’t mean I don’t have people in law enforcement who’d be only too happy to make an arrest to my benefit."
"That—"
I walk toward her, slowly, and wrap a hand in her hair, pulling her head back. She’s forced to look up at me, and her eyes widen. She swallows, her throat bobbing, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. She falls silent, but I’m not going to leave her in suspense for too long. Already her nerves are jumping, her pulse beating visibly under the thin skin of her throat.
"You will tell me who sent you to spy on me," my voice is gentle, and her eyes grow wet along the lash-line. I’m pushing too hard. Slowly, I’m going to draw it out of her. "But not now."
"Then—" she tries to speak, and I shush her.
"Right now, you’re going to finish your lunch," I say, "and then I’m going to take you out so you can get dressed in something nice. While you’re with me, you’ll want for nothing." Her eyes flicker with something I don’t recognize, is it fear? Or anticipation? A mix of both? But she doesn’t look like she’s particularly thrilled at the idea of being a kept woman.
Extra reasons why I suspect she’s not exactly the normal girl who comes to work at Cascade, and more reason for me to suspect that she was placed there for more than one reason.
"Where are we going?" Her shoulders are tense. I gesture toward the windows, indicating the outside.
"The Combat Zone isn’t exactly a bastion of shopping," she says, like she’d know. From what Heather tells me, Ashley comes to work in clothing that’s neatly patched and probably third-hand. But that doesn’t mean she’s not aware of where there is actually good shopping in town.
"Newbury. I’ve got a call to make, but be ready to go in five minutes." I head toward the doors of my private office.
"Bossy," she mumbles, but when I glance back at her, she’s got a distant, small smile on her face and a faint blush on her cheeks.
She likes it.
And that’s going to be the key to unlocking all of her secrets.
CHAPTER 12
ash
He takes me to Newbury Street, in a black town car staffed by a driver in the front that I’m pretty sure is packing, if the slight bulge under his black suit jacket is any hint. Luca doesn’t wear a suit to take me out, and looks oddly soft in a dark-navy long-sleeve Henley, tucked into jeans
