Page 56 of Irrevocably

Stupid to fall asleep in a killer’s arms. Stupid to give him a blowjob and have sex with him. Stupid to feel as if there’s something more between us than physical attraction.

I know he wants me, but that moment after I woke up, where I saw him crouched before the fireplace, wearing only his jeans, the firelight flickering over his tattooed body, all carved muscle, tanned skin and black ink, and I… God, he was so beautiful my heart felt bruised.

Then he turned and noticed me staring and said that lovely thing about kissing me awake, which was so unexpected that I smiled at him. I couldn’t stop myself. I forgot who and what he was in that moment, because in that moment he was only Lucien. The man who let me clean up his cut, and who gave me pleasure, who told me I was his. Who knows my secrets and who let me sleep in his arms.

Just Lucien.

Then the atmosphere changed – why, I don’t know – and a shadow crossed his face, the burning, fierce look in his eyes snuffing out. He wasn’t just Lucien then. He was Lucien the killer, who turned and strode into the kitchen without a backward glance.

That shouldn’t have hurt. That shouldn’t have made me feel as if I’d done something wrong, yet it did. And I feel stupid now, as if I’ve betrayed myself. As if a part of me has been hoping that the sex we just had changed things. He wrapped me in a blanket, then held me in his arms while I slept. Does that happen in a “just sex” relationship? Do killers even look after you?

Not that we have any kind of relationship, and I have to keep reminding myself of that. He said I was his, but he hasn’t said what that means and I don’t know where we go from here.

Wolf, my friend, is still his prisoner, and guilt at forgetting about that jabs at me. And Lucien still wants that information about Dad, but I still have no idea who he is, apart from the fact that he’s clearly involved in organised crime of some sort.

It’s a mess. My whole damn life is a mess, and it’s all because of him.

Like it wasn’t a little fucked up to begin with.

I ignore the thought as I pull the blanket tighter around me, the wool prickling against my bare skin. There’s no point going over all of this again; and thinking about it endlessly is only making my head hurt, so I stare at the fire until Lucien comes out of the kitchen with two steaming bowls.

His expression is back to being stone again as he hands me a bowl. “The pantry only has nonperishables and instant food. This is the best I could do.”

The bowl is full of ramen, and there’s a fork, and suddenly I’m ravenous.

“I don’t care.” I grab the fork and dig in. “I’m a college student, remember? I love ramen.”

After that, we eat in silence, but I can’t resist glancing at him every now and then. He’s not looking at me, but at the fire, staring into the flames as if the answer to life itself is somehow contained in them. His features are outlined in gold. The straight line of his nose and his winged black brows. High cheekbones, strong jaw and beautifully carved mouth. He looks like an angel, a fallen angel, and I still feel an echo of shock that such a gorgeous man wants a plain old college student like me.

“See something interesting?” he asks, still staring into the fire.

I blush at being caught staring. “No, I just … wondered what you were thinking.”

He glances at me. “Why do you want to know?” His tone is still pretty neutral, but there’s an edge to it.

My heart constricts. I don’t want his mood to affect me, but it is and I don’t like it. “Well, you’re clearly annoyed,” I say, trying to keep the sharp note from my voice. “So what is it? Is it me?”

For a second, he holds my gaze, and something dark flickers there, something that makes a cold shiver pass over my skin. Then he puts his untouched bowl down on the floor and turns back to me. “You want the truth?” he says. “Yes, it’s you.”

A needle of hurt goes through me. “Why?” I can’t help asking. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything, Astrid.” His gaze is dark. “But you need to understand that what’s happening between us, now, here, is all there is. I can’t give you anything more than that.”

The needle of hurt works deeper, even though I’ve been telling myself all this time that of course what’s between us can’t go anywhere. “So, you were lying when you said I was yours?”

“No.” The word is hard and certain. “I meant it. But the rules of my world mean that I can’t have anything of my own.”

My throat constricts. “What world? Your crime world?”

He glances away, toward the fire. “You’re a vulnerability. If anyone knows I’ve been sleeping with you, you’ll become a target.”

My heart aches as a cold shiver of foreboding ripples over my skin. “That man you killed in the parking lot. He’s part of it, isn’t he?”

Lucien lets out a short, hard laugh. “You’re too smart for your own good, Tinkerbell.”

He’s still not admitting anything, but I know I’m right. “Who was he? Why did he want to take me to Dad?” I stare at Lucien’s beautiful face. “He targeted me the way you did. Was it for the same reason?”

Lucien is still looking at the fire, firelight playing over his features. “The MC’s operation is attractive. Lots of people want it for themselves.”