Page 105 of Lovely Darkness

“No.” It’s not an overly emphatic no. But she says it with convincing authority. And then she says it again. “No. I mean, kill you? I don’t kill people, Mr. Boucher. Do I look like a person who kills people? Because I do admit, I can be quite the bitch when I want to be. Is this why you took my purse?”

I sigh, so tired of being me. Then I stretch my legs out, my bare feet digging into the thick, plush rug that outlines the seating area, and cross my arms over my chest. “It’s just… I think I like you. And I don’t want to let it get too far if this is just some setup.”

She doesn’t say anything. But I know what she’s thinking. I don’t usually approach women like this, but to be honest, I haven’t been with any women since Misha. She hurt me. And she made me hurt her. And regardless of what people think about me, I’m not that kind of man.

Killing is a job. Misha wasn’t a job. She was my refuge for years and years. Her betrayal was a hit I still haven’t recovered from. That might be why I’m so hooked on McKay right now. As far as a lover, I mean.

He will never betray me.

Perrine says, “I’m not setting you up, Adam. I don’t know you. I don’t know what you do, or who you are, or why I’m even here, to be perfectly honest. In fact, I don’t even know who I am, either. Maybe that’s why I’m here. If you were looking for my ID, it’s not in my purse. But I have no objection to easing your mind with proof of who I am, if you’re living the kind of life that makes you ask these questions.”

Her response is so gentle and so genuine, I let it penetrate me so I can recall it later. Then I say, “I just feel the need to be careful.”

“I understand. Should I go get my ID? I have a room here.”

I pull my phone out of my pants pocket and shake my head. “I can do a background check with your social security number.”

She smiles. “You have an app for that?”

And we both chuckle. “I do. And I do apologize for ruining our conversation with this formality, but I can’t—”

She puts up a hand. “It’s fine. We all need to do what we need to do.” And then she recites her number for me as I plug it into my Company app.

Her face pops up immediately. Same long dark hair, same hazel-green eyes. Same smile. But she’s not connected to anyone in my database. Not even peripherally, and lots of people are, even if they’re not Company.

I look up from my phone and find her smirking at me, eyebrows raised. “Am I legit?”

“Yeah.” I sigh the word out. “You’re legit.” Then I set my phone on the table.

“Good.” She sits up straighter. “Now you owe me some answers.”

“Better make sure you want them,” I caution her.

“Oh, yes, sir. I do want them. What the hell do you do for a living? Besides own hotels, I mean.”

“For a living?” I snicker a little. “I don’t do anything for a living. I was born into this money.”

“Silver spoon and all that?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that must’ve been nice.”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t even know the difference. It sounds bad, I get it. But I just… am who I am. This life is all I know.”

“That’s fair, though. My life is the only one I know as well.”

“I’m sure yours is far more interesting.”

“I doubt that.” She chuckles. “I’m not the one who needs to make sure her new friend isn’t here to kill me. I’m just a girl who came up from nothing and didn’t do anything special at all to get to this place right here.”

“I’d like to know about it, anyway.”

“Didn’t your app fill you in?”

“I didn’t look that deep. Just checked your picture and known associations. I’d rather learn about you the old-fashioned way, if you don’t mind.”

She pauses our banter to smile at me. “Mr. Boucher?”