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I pulled myself to my full height. Which only brought me to his shoulder, drat the man. His square jaw was directly before me, speckled with stubble the same color as his hair. My gaze jumped to the universe in his eyes, then drifted lower, lingering on his chiseled cheeks, his perfect lips, then down his neck. One layered with just enough muscle to hint at how the rest of him was built.
I gave myself a little shake. “What gave you the right to grab me in the first place?”
“You grabbed me first.” Then he winced and slapped a hand over his mouth.
I stared. What was up with this man?
All my life, I’d been prepared for a kidnapping/murder scenario, just in case. Twice, that scenario had actually played out, and I’d had to fight for my life. I’d also been accosted by men in several less-dangerous situations. But never had I encountered a man so…so…
I searched for the word. Strange? Unpredictable?
Handsome, a sultry voice purred in the back of my mind.
True, with hair as fair as mine was dark and eyes as bright as mine were black.
“What?” I finally demanded.
He moved his hand. “It’s just…” Then he covered his mouth again and murmured through his fingers. “Dang. I broke it. Again.”
Definitely the strangest assassin I’d ever encountered.
“Broke what?”
“My vow of silence.”
I pointed at his hand. “I’m quite certain talking is talking, even if you do it through your fingers.”
Then I cursed myself. Why was I even indulging this lunatic?
He slumped. “You’re right. Not much point in keeping it up, I guess.” Then he sighed. “Until they make me take the vow again, I suppose.”
Who was they? Who was he?
He was dressed as a monk, but it had to be the worst disguise I’d ever seen. The robes might fit him, but they certainly didn’t suit him, and he wore them as comfortably as I might wear a stiff, high-necked dress.
I sniffed surreptitiously, then froze. It wasn’t just his profession he was hiding. The man was a shifter, too. Some kind of feline, if I wasn’t mistaken.
How did I know? Well, I had my secrets too.
“Stay back,” I warned when he reached out.
He yanked his hand back. “I am. I mean, I will. I mean, sorry.”
Polite for an assassin, but really, what was the point?
His eyes crossed a little as he focused on the point of my blade. Pretty cute, I couldn’t help noting.
“You’re good with a knife.” He waved toward my dagger.
I glowed. How nice to be acknowledged for a skill I’d worked so hard to develop.
Then he ruined it all by blurting, “And, wow. You’re beautiful.”
I brandished the dagger, doubly angry, but somehow, he didn’t seem to notice.
“You fight dirty, too.” He nodded in approval.
“You don’t?”
