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Beyond dangerous.
Utterly thrilling.
Beautiful.
I hug the clothes he gave me against my bare flesh. “You don’t need me.”
“Trust me, I do. And when I’m done?—”
“When my family’s safe.”
“—I’ll let you go.” He glances at me. “Get dressed.”
I sigh and pull on the clothes—panties, bra, shirt, and yoga pants. My body is so sensitive, and I’m almost positive that’s why he gave me lingerie and less constricting items. The soft lace is sandpaper against my nipples and clit.
Every movement reminds me of what he did to me, what I didn’t realize I craved so deeply. “Where are we going?”
“Out. To Brooklyn. As I said, I got a lead.”
I frown. “Why am I coming?”
“Because I said so. Put your hair back.”
A strange feeling slips down through me as I pull my hair into a ponytail. But I don’t say anything else because he doesn’t trust me, and let’s face it, I don’t trust him either. Earlier I didn’t question his silent command to join him at Dad’s. It was a total hoax, but he made it feel so real, real enough to convince my family that it might actually be.
It’s not. No matter how real the sex is, how real the pleasure I get from it.
So why would he take me with him? I’m sure it’d be easier to leave me locked up here, unless… unless he wants me to see exactly how deadly he is or the power he wields, power he can use to help or hurt my family.
Why am I thinking he might hurt us?
I give him a sharp look as he holds open the back door of a town car. And I slide into the back seat, trying not to breathe in his intoxicating scent, trying not to lose myself in that heady web he weaves just by being near me. But it’s hard because the back of the car is small, and even if we were sitting in a stretch limo, there wouldn’t be enough room to escape the other softer and deadlier power of him. So in here…
I’ve got no chance against this man. At all.
“Malone, I don’t understand you.”
He gives me a look as he pulls his phone out. His head stays down, focused on the screen as he types something. “I’m not a mystery. We’ve got chemistry, Scarlett. That’s it. I’m not a project or a puzzle, I’m a man who plays in the dirt. You open doors by virtue of your willful innocence. That’s something that can never be bought.”
“Except through the right relationship.”
He smiles, sticking his phone into his pocket. “Except through that. Why would someone like you mess with someone like me unless there’s something worthwhile about our connection? Look at you. You’re trying to make me fit when I don’t.”
I want to fight him on that, but he’s got a point. And I know it’s why my father and uncle keep the more sordid end of their business buried deep.
“I’m not willful,” I say. The expression on his face refutes that, and reluctantly, my lips curl upward. “At least I’m not willfully ignorant.”
“You don’t question things,” he says softly.
“I question you.”
“I meant your fucking family.”
Nodding, I suck in a deep breath. “I don’t dig in because their business isn’t mine.”
“They’re still your family.”
Why he’s being so fucking stubborn and obtuse on this is anyone’s guess, but I’m not letting this go. I won’t cower to him. I’m not afraid of this man and he needs to understand that. “I’m not my father. I’m not my uncle. And more importantly, I’m not the shipping company.”
