“You do if you don’t want another enemy to deal with.”
He cocked his head, looking down in her face in the murky light. She felt good in his arms, draped across his lap, and he knew he was still hard with her sweet butt riding him. He wondered if she knew. “We were already enemies.”
She didn’t deny it. “Not mortal ones.”
He sighed, and she managed to scramble off him. He made no effort to hold her there—he could bring her back at any time, and for now he was better off without her body pressed against his. It distracted him when he couldn’t afford to be distracted. “I left the gun because I thought you could do with some form of protection besides your body. It was only later that I realized you were too hotheaded to make sensible decisions. After our time in the boathouse I was afraid you’d put one of those .22s in my brain, and I thought I’d better hedge my bets. If I’d known you were going to go after Archer that fast, I would have done something about it.”
“You did.”
“I almost didn’t make it. You’re just lucky he didn’t hear the click of the gun.”
“I don’t know if I believe in luck. He came inside immediately afterward—he must have heard something,” she said stubbornly.
“But he didn’t call for reinforcements and he didn’t go looking for anyone.”
“I told you, Archer likes to play games. This island is his own private fiefdom. He has complete control over everything, and if he did hear the click, he would have known exactly what it was. Meaning the gun didn’t work and he was safe. If I were you I’d be extra careful about the rest of your arsenal.”
“The only reason you found the guns was that I wanted you to. Trust me, Archer’s not going to find them now.”
“Don’t underestimate Archer. He can find anything he wants.”
“Then you’d better do something about that stash of pills in your bed.”
She glared at him, but didn’t respond. “Are you going to give me the firing pin?”
“Are you going to promise not to shoot Archer until it’s time?”
“You mean you’ll let me do it?” she said skeptically.
He shrugged. “I figured you earned the right. But I need to make sure RU48 is dealt with first. Promise?”
Her face was cool, impassive, but he could feel the anger and heat boiling beneath the surface. “And you’d trust me?”
“No.”
“Then why bother asking?”
“In fact, I don’t feel like asking.” He could move fast, and she wasn’t at the top of her game. He’d hauled her back into his arms before she could react, so that she straddled him, and he was ready to restrain her flailing body with one arm as he cupped her chin with his hand.
She didn’t fight, and he didn’t kiss her. They stayed that way, looking at each other for a long moment. He couldn’t read her thoughts, and he knew damned well she couldn’t read his. But there would be no question she could feel his hard cock beneath her. It was up to her what she wanted to do about it.
She pulled her arms free from his grasp, and he let her go, leaning back against the wall, waiting. If she tried to get away he could stop her, but wouldn’t. This was up to her to take what she wanted.
She was statue still, looking at him, her teeth sunk in her lower lip, and he felt an odd little hitch in the area of what might be called his heart. She reminded him of a defiant child, determined not to react, terrified and brave as hell at the same time, and for the first time since he could remember, he felt like a bully. She was vulnerable, whether she wanted to admit it or not, and she was trying desperately not to show it.
She also wanted him. He knew that too. If he let her go, she would scramble away from him, probably try to kill him the first chance she got. He watched her warily, not touching her. He would let her go. He could be a decent human being for a change.
“You’re such a bastard,” she said with barely a trace of
sound, but they were close enough that he heard her anyway.
“I know.” There was no shame or regret in his response, no guilt for all the things he had done. He simply was who he was, and he’d learned long ago the futility of trying to be someone else.
She didn’t climb off him. She simply stared at him, and the heat moved between them like a living thing, slow and sensuous. She was no longer fighting it. She shook her head, though he had no idea whether it was disappointment in him or disgust at her own reaction. And then she reached down for the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, leaving her half-naked in the dark, astride him, only the skimpy boxers covering her.
He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, for fear he’d spook her. Her breasts were perfect, he thought. Not quite a handful, with taut nipples from the night air. Or maybe something else.
She put her hands on him, reaching for his shirt, and he let her, watching her as she pulled it off, throwing it onto the balcony. “Well?” she said.