Mercy by HelenKay Dimon Read Free Book Online Page A

appeared right after. Not that he bent all that much to begin with, but when threatened he downshifted into scary mode. She used to hear the monotone clip while he talked business and wonder about the life expectancy of the person on the other end of all that ire.
    The file she had on him back then referenced a list of people from his past who mysteriously disappeared, but the idea of him as a killer never matched up with the man who rained kisses over every inch of her bare flesh. Of course, neither did the drug running. Tough and haunted, yes. Unreadable at times and ice cold at others. But a cold-blooded murderer she could never see.
    “I was in your office. But I think you knew that before you even got up here.” An odd thought crept into her brain. She visually scanned the mantel and ceiling for potential hidden cameras, wondering how a man who coveted his privacy so much could open his life up to such unending security scrutiny. “Did you wire the place?”
    “I give you points for not lying about being in the office.” He still hadn’t moved. Had barely blinked.
    Her gaze shot to his arms as she tried to figure out what he hid in his hands. “Not really possible to do since I’m holding your desk lamp.”
    The severe frown slipped for a second then shifted back into place. “Do you care to tell me why you were in a room where I ordered you not to go?”
    He phrased it like a question, but she knew from the steel thread in his voice that he wasn’t expecting an answer. She gave him one anyway. “Technically, you told me to stay out of your bedroom.”
    “No, I—”
    She wanted to scream at his stubbornness. “Okay. Fine.”
    “You would be wise to stop stalling.”
    On that he was right. There was no reason to lie. “I wanted to see if I could tap into the security system and see what you were doing downstairs.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m showing a lot of faith in coming here. You could do anything to me. Turn me over to the very people who want me dead.” The fear burning a hole through her stomach gave rise to her voice. “Hell, you could be the person behind all of the team killings.”
    “Put the lamp down.”
    The base suddenly weighted her down on one side. “You’re not going to respond to that accusation or ask me anything else?”
    “I don’t ask. I tell.”
    “Right. Silly me.” She put the lamp on the floor and stood up, feeling his heated gaze roam over her as she moved.
    “I don’t remember giving you permission to wear a towel.”
    Whatever happened downstairs hadn’t eased his fury. Quite possibly it enhanced it, which made her even more curious about the last fifteen minutes.
    She bit back a sigh as she mentally debated the best way to soothe the beast roaring to life within him and otherwise making her life more difficult than it needed to be. “We’re back to that?”
    “The rules remain the same, Rebecca. You have my temporary protection and in exchange—”
    “You get me.” She said it before he could utter some awful word that made her cringe. One that reminded her of how little she meant and of the hatred brewing right beneath the surface.
    “Remove the towel.”
    Amazing how something as flimsy as a fluffy piece of cotton could provide an emotional barrier. Could shield and protect. The idea of being without it sent a strange hollowness rolling over her. With it on, her old life came rushing back, shoring up her strength long enough for the confidence she took for granted to peek through.
    She needed something from him and sensed that ran both ways. His likely grew out of an unsatisfied wish for revenge, and part of her believed he was entitled to it. But there were limits to what she would do to beat back the clawing inside him. She’d willingly give her body in exchange for protection and the use of his valuable resources. She’d hold back the rest so he couldn’t emotionally stomp her into pieces.
    But one of them had to give in this battle. She’d showed up