Page 33 of Reaper's Desire

"Julian." The name comes out rough, reluctant on his tongue, even though he knows mine. "My name is Julian."

Julian. It suits him, I think, and then shake the thought loose. I don't know what suits him. I don't know this man, despite all the things Idoknow about him—the way he kisses, the sounds he makes when he's aroused, the filthy things he says, the way his cock feels inside of me, the taste of his cum. I don't really knowhim, and I'm never going to.

This needs to end.

"Okay, Julian." I force myself to meet his eyes and hold his gaze even though every instinct is screaming at me to run. "Tell me what's going on. Tell me why I'm in danger. Tell me why you're here."

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. The conflict on his face is almost painful to watch. "I can't," he says finally.

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"So what am I supposed to do? Just trust you? Just go home because some stranger who fucked me and then tried to strangle me says I'm in danger?"

He flinches at the words, and I feel a savage satisfaction at the reaction. "Yes," he says simply.

"Fuck you."

The words come out sharper than I intend, fueled by fear and confusion and anger and the shameful arousal still simmering beneath it all. His jaw tightens. "Isabelle?—"

"No." I push off the wall, forcing myself to stand straight even though my legs are shaking. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to show up in my life, fuck me, nearly kill me, follow me to another country, and then tell me I'm in danger without explaining why."

"I'm trying to protect you."

"From what?" My voice rises. "From who? From you?"

"From people who want to hurt you," he says, and there's an edge of desperation in his voice now. "People who won't hesitate. People who won't care that you're young or beautiful or innocent."

The words send a chill down my spine. "What people?" I whisper.

He doesn't answer. He just stares at me with those dark, unreadable eyes, and I realize with a sinking feeling that he's notgoing to tell me. That whatever he knows, whatever danger I'm in, he's going to keep it to himself.

"I need to go," I say, my voice shaking. "I need to get away from you."

"Isabelle—"

"Don't." I hold up a hand, stopping him. "Don't say my name. Don't touch me. Don't follow me."

I turn and start walking, my legs unsteady, my heart pounding so hard I think it might burst out of my chest.

He doesn't follow. I make it to the end of the alley before I look back, and he's still standing there, watching me with an expression I can't read.

And then I turn the corner, and he's gone.

I walk back to my hotel in a daze, my mind spinning, my body trembling with adrenaline and fear.

Julian.The name echoes in my head, along with his words:You're in danger.

I don't know what to believe. I don't know if he's telling the truth or if he's the danger I should be running from.

But one thing is clear: I'm not safe here.

And I have no idea what to do about it.

10

JULIAN