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“Shall we go see about making certain Investigator Ison has the information he needs?” He extended his elbow out to her. “I’d like to get rid of him so we can have fun later.”
“You have more soap?” She arched a brow.
“Even better,” he drawled. “I have massage oil.”
As he escorted her from the bedroom and down the hallway, his hand low on her back, feeling the softness of her flesh, Seth knew the situation was getting radically out of control.
He knew what she needed. Knew she needed to hear the words from him, the commitment he had felt in his heart for ten years now, and he couldn’t give those words to her. Not yet. Not until they caught that fucking assassin.
Hell, he should never have let her be dragged into this. He should have knocked her out and put her right back on that damned heli-jet the moment she stepped foot on his island.
Instead, what had he done? He had promised to let her fight by his side. His side? The bastard with some maniac assassin’s sights on him. He was so weak, so crazy fucking in love with her that he hadn’t been able to bear the look in her eyes when he held her in that shower the day before.
Yeah, she had trained. She had managed to save herself. And he was certain she was just as deadly as any other Breed out there. But she was barely fucking five-foot-four in her stocking feet, if she weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet he would have to have the scales checked, and the thought of her receiving so much as a single bruise defending him made him see bloody red.
He was so wrapped around those delicate fingers he was a lost cause, and he was man enough to admit that it scared the hell out of him. Added to that was the certainty that soon, very soon, the memories of those labs were going to return.
Would she even want him then? Would she remember the playful passion, the soul-deep kisses and incredible pleasure, with a sense of hunger or a mind filled with fear?
He knew he was terrified it was the fear she would feel.
As they stepped into the library and faced a frustrated Investigator Ison, Seth pushed the emotional problems to the back of his mind and concentrated now on the business of besting a council that would see his woman destroyed.
He faced Investigator Ison as he had his board members earlier. Coldly. Silently. He sat at the head of the long table, Dawn at his side, his fingers playing absently with hers, and stared the man down, let him fumble his way through the fact that he didn’t have jack shit.
Five minutes into the questioning, Ison began to stutter and sweat. Seth had perfected the look. Cold. Hard. Brutal and all-knowing. Oh yeah, he knew quite a bit about Ison now. Things the other man couldn’t imagine, and Seth promised himself that once things were settled in his own life, then he would take care to make certain Ison paid for several of the dark, violent acts he had committed against Breeds over the years.
Seth wondered if Jonas had the information Seth had managed to acquire, and then assumed he didn’t. Because if he did, the other man would be dead. It was that simple. He would have disappeared as others had, and the Sanctuary heli-jet would have once again flown a little too close to the mouth of a live volcano. Jonas could often be amazingly efficient.
Within half an hour, he’d read and signed the statement the investigator had prepared from his notes then slid it back across the table, his eyes meeting the investigator’s again.
There was a glint of promised retribution in the other man’s gaze and Seth smiled. Come after me, you little bastard. I dare you.
He sat back in his chair, his hand catching Dawn’s again as she watched him with a placid, almost amused expression.
When the library door closed behind Ison, Seth turned back to her.
“Keep your weapons close,” he murmured. “He’s up to something.”
Dawn glanced at the door as he watched her; when she turned back, her eyes were flat, hard. “Of course he is. He’s a Council puppet. He stinks of it.” She shrugged. “And I always keep my weapons close.”
Yes, she did. And that, Seth found, was both a comfort and an ache of regret. Dawn shouldn’t have to worry about keeping her weapons close.
CHAPTER 19
It was the parties that were making her nervous, Dawn realized several hours later as she stood next to Seth while he socialized with Dane, Rye and another of Seth’s allies on the board, Craig Bartel, and his wife, Lillian.
Lillian was taller, with the lush womanly figure and breasts Dawn knew men lusted after. She was dressed in a loose, flowing evening gown of smoky grays and ice blues that complemented her eyes and cool blond hair.
Her husband was a bit more portly, but he had a friendly smile and warm hazel eyes when he wasn’t arguing with Seth over some ball team they both seemed to have a stake in.
What, did these men own the known world? The twelve board members were practically the Who’s Who on the National Registry of Arrogant Billionaires or something. And Seth was in his element.
She listened to him argue the team’s stats, the players’ weaknesses and strengths, and realized he did it with the same daring and confidence that he had used when relating financial figures and company information during the board meetings.
“They could talk about that ball team all night.” Lillian Bartel smiled as she caught Dawn’s eyes. “And he promised me a dance tonight.”
Dawn glanced at Seth. “He wasn’t the only one that promised.”
