Page 31 of Adam
“Occupational hazard,” he says, cocking his head. “Turns out not everyone’s a fan of my charm.”
My jaw tightens, heat rising fast behind my cheeks. Oh, he wants an attitude? Sarcasm? The full back-and-forth treatment?
Fine. He picked the wrong girl to poke.
I square my shoulders, meet that smug look head-on, and smile sweetly.
“Wow. Must be exhausting, being this full of yourself and still managing to get punched in the face.”
Let’s play, asshole.
“Oh, princess,” he drawls, tilting his head. “If that’s your version of foreplay, we’re gonna get along just fine.”
He steps in close again, eyes flicking to my mouth. His fingers graze my jaw again, slow and possessive.
“Hit me with that fire all you want,” he murmurs. “Just don’t act surprised when you get burned back.”
And there it is … That infuriating, irresistible smirk.
“I thought you came here to work,” I say, each word slow in my attempt to provoke him more. “Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you’re flirting with me.”
His smug little grin twitches.
He pulls back, the grin fading into something darker, and shoves his hands casually into the pockets of his black cargo jeans.
“Actually, I’m not,” he says coolly. “I’m here to make sure no man so much as looks at you and lives to tell the story.”
“What?”
“Daddy’s got some pretty serious brain damage.”
“I don’t understand.”
He paces a few steps, all slow swagger, then drops himself onto my bed.
“You wanted me to be your personal bodyguard. Done. Here I am.” He leans back on his elbows. “Your daddy ‘advised’ me to keep everyone away from you. Because—and I quote—’death follows.’” He clicks his tongue. “Touching, right? Nothing says ‘dream job’ like being stuck guarding the girl who has everyone around her somehow ending up buried.”
He leans back further on my bed, eyes on the ceiling.
“Honestly I’m flattered he picked me to babysit the Grim Reaper’s spoiled little heir. It’ll be my pleasure to slit those fuckers’ throats.”
Dad has completely lost it, but honestly, that part doesn’t even shock me anymore.
Whatdoesget to me is how calm Adam is about it, like killing is just another thing on his list for the day.
Who am I kidding? He enjoys it; I saw how easy it was for him to put my father’s man in the ground.
My eyes are nailed on the floor. “So, you’re no different from the others.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you’re no different from the others,” I repeat, looking at him. “You’re just a cold-blooded killer.”
“Nowthat’sinsulting,” he says, rising to his full height until he’s right in front of me, towering over me with that dark, imposing presence that wraps around the room.
“I can assure you I’m not like any other man you’ve ever met.” He leans in, his breath brushing my skin as his thumb traces a slow line along my cheekbone. The touch is gentle, almost reverent. “Because I’m not just assigned to kill anyone who lays a finger or even an eye on you.” His gaze sharpens, cold and merciless. “The difference is I’ll actually do it. And I’ll enjoy every second of it.”
My breath catches, but he keeps going.
