Be Still My Heart by Jackie Ivie Read Free Book Online Page A

tone. He should’ve just answered her damn question, rather than playing a game of who’s sexier. Because he was definitely losing.
    “Pity.” The word wasn’t nonchalant. He sounded breathless.
    “You can’t drink it anymore, anyway.”
    She shrugged. After saying words that ruined his life, she shrugged? That wasn’t fair. But nothing about this seemed fair. He couldn’t wake and he just kept getting deeper. Stuart tapped at the little button on the end of his armrest. He didn’t know what it did, until the hushed beep sound of an intercom interrupted the space.
    “Yes?”
    It was Vaughn. Sounding amused. Stuart was beginning to wonder if he ever sounded serious.
    “Are we there yet?” Great. Now he sounded like he was about eight.
    “Thirteen more miles, Sir.”
    “Thank you.”
    Stuart lifted his finger and the electric sound in the air stopped. Thirteen. Of course it would be thirteen. An unlucky number. Unlucky. What a joke. He’d been unlucky since his parents had died in a car crash, leaving him orphaned with one little sister and a very large trust fund everyone envied. As if money was a panacea for all ills and could cure anything.
    He’d rather focus on the mundane. The physical. Items such as this suit. He guessed it was made of superfine wool, pinstriped with a darker toned shadow. His shirt was a match to the dark shade, with tonal stripes. She liked black and she liked stripes. Hmm… His trousers were solid black, however. They were also tight around each thigh, defining things he’d never put on display before. Stuart went back to examining his cuffs. The shirt had a monogram on each cuff. His.
SEF
.
    “Why did you do it?”
    Stuart looked up from contemplation of the platinum-wrapped onyx cufflinks that seemed to match her ear studs. She’d taken some of her hair down, or her French Twist was slipping, and she had one stiletto dangling off her toes.
    “You don’t want to know,” he answered.
    “Try me.”
    “Well, I definitely don’t want to say.”
    “Stuart.”
    She lingered on his name, making it drip with longing. He jumped. His heart kicked into motion within his chest. He moved his hands and rubbed the palms along his legs.
    “Shouldn’t you already know this?”
    “How?”
    “Since I’m imagining all this, I shouldn’t have to delve into things that I don’t want to. Simple.”
    “You still think you’re dreaming?”
    “Hell no. I went right past that to full psychotic break-down. That’s what I think this is.”
    A little smile touched her lips, his heart kicked him again, and Stuart gulped.
    “I’m flattered,” she replied finally.
    “What?”
    “No one has ever told me I’m dream-worthy before.”
    “That’s because you’re too busy killing them. They can’t get it out.”
    Her smile faded. Her lips set and she glared at him. All of which was the normal reaction he got from women. He hoped that didn’t mean the dream was fading. He wanted to enter the casino in Monte Carlo with her on his arm. And she had promised him time alone in the suite, too.
    ”Why did you do it, Stuart?”
    “I don’t have to answer you.”
    “Yes. You do.”
    Arrogant. The woman was amazingly arrogant. And thirteen miles had never taken so long.
    “Now, Stuart.”
    “I forgot the question,” he answered.
    “You paid ten million to assassinate a man and I want to know why. Why, Stuart?”
    “Five million. And I still don’t have to tell you.”
    “Stuart.”
    Jeez. She drew out his name exactly like the senior trustee used to…back before he’d turned twenty-one. Back then he’d had to go before the board for any expenditure beyond the norm.
    “You are worse than my trustees. I want you to know that.” He hadn’t felt this ill-at-ease since he’d had to ask for fourteen thousand to pay for the damage his fraternity had caused during the stripper party. That hadn’t been pretty. And he wasn’t saying any of that.
    “Now.”
    “All right. Fine. You want to