hink you can do better. But let me tell you, no one sucks me off like Phoenix.”
Her grip on the thin knife tightens, along with the lines around her eyes and harsh frown of her lips.
“Just leave; neither of us is going to tell the truth. We aren’t going to say that we lied and that we aren’t married. That you don’t have any freaking kids. Just go. We don’t have to keep hurting each other.”
I take a step toward her, expecting her step away from me, keeping the island between us.
She doesn’t.
“You really think you’re going to stab me if I get near?”
“You’ll have to come closer to find out.” She smirks and twists the knife around casually in her hand like it belongs there.
She forgets that I know the real her. She doesn’t like wielding a weapon. The only time she holds a knife is when she’s cutting into her food. She wouldn’t even be able to flick her wrist in my direction before my reflexes would stop her without even thinking.
I take another step.
She still doesn’t move.
My heart beats wildly in my chest, wanting to be near her, even though the only part of me that Liesel could actually damage is my heart. She has no idea the amount of torture she’s caused me. She thinks I’m the devil. I am, but I have nothing on her.
One more step and I’m standing face to face in front of her.
Her breathing is erratic. I can’t tell if she’s scared or turned on.
“Are. You. Married?” I ask. If she is, then she could go after the treasure without me. I want to know for my own personal reasons. I want to know so I know how to destroy her.
“I already told you I am.”
“You sure about that?” I study her for any signs that she’s telling the truth or lying, but all I can focus on his her breathing in and out. Her chest is rising and falling beneath Siren’s black T-shirt.
“Yes,” she says sharply, expecting me to call her out.
I inch closer, just leaning into her personal space. I won’t touch her without her permission or invitation, but I can do a lot without touching her. And I’m not planning on leaving until I get this single truth.
I take a deep breath, breathing in her scent—lavender and something floral. When I exhale down her neck, I watch her shiver.
I put my hands in the pockets of my jeans to keep from touching her.
Not yet.
Soon, though, I’ll be able to touch her.
It won’t take long to break her—to get her begging to be touched.
My eyes run down her body from head to toe. I linger over her hair—long and wavy and slightly frizzier than usual, untamed. My eyes heat over the curves of her breasts and hips and then down her slim legs to her oversized boots. She doesn’t look like the Liesel I’ve known all my life. She’s not wearing the right clothes, and her makeup isn’t caked on. But somehow, standing there with that damn knife in her hand, she’s never looked more incredible.
My eyes snap back up, meeting hers.
She shivers once again.
“Cold?”
“Hmm.”
I shrug my jacket off and drape it over her shoulders. I let my fingers graze her arms as I pull the jacket tighter in front of her. My hands grip her hips before I even realize I’m touching her.
“Better?” I ask.