Page 86 of Duplicitous
He’s always been coolly collected when it comes to my stalker.
Now, he looks…feral.
I swallow hard. “I really didn’t think my stalker wanted to hurt me.”
His jaw works, but he can’t seem to find the words to express the extent of his fury.
I cup his cheeks to ground him to me.
Suddenly, his mouth descends on mine. The kiss is desperate, full of pain and fear.
I meet him with equal fervor, clinging to him for mutual support.
He’s shaking in my arms.
Or maybe I am.
I’m not sure where he ends and I begin. We’re wrapped up in each other, throwing everything we have into the kiss.
When I can barely breathe, he breaks away to allow me to suck in oxygen. His forehead rests on mine, and his eyes bore into me.
“I’ll take care of this,” he promises.
He steps away from me, and I clutch at him instinctively.
“I have to go,” he says. “I’ll find out who sent the letter.”
I nod and force myself to release him.
As much as I want him to stay with me, I need this stalker handled. I shudder at the thought of what he wants to do to me.
I’ve killed to protect myself. Now, those survival instincts push me to lean on Rand.
Looking into his fierce, dark eyes, I know deep in my bones that he’ll make my stalker regret coming anywhere near me.
21
RAND
Ihave to force myself to leave Karolina when all I want is to cage her in my arms and make sure no other man can ever get close to her.
But there’s a threat to be handled, and I can’t risk her seeing how I intend to torture her new stalker before I finally allow him to die.
Because I’m not the one who wrote that note.
Whoever sent it is a dead man.
As I leave her apartment building, my fingers flex with unspent aggression. Somehow, I manage to retrieve my phone from my pocket and find the dexterity to enter the number I need.
I’ve told Karolina I have a friend who can help track down her stalker. My plan had been to “scare him off” once she fully depends on me. I never needed to actually call Ghost.
I need him now.
My old friend is capable of hacking into the CCTV around Karolina’s home to identify who left the note.
He answers the call. “Who is this?”
“It’s me,” I say in my normal voice—not Bones’ growl or Rand’s cultured accent.
