Page 86 of Reaper's Desire

"You wanted me then." I bite my lip, looking at him over the rim of mine. "But you were fighting it, telling me we couldn't. You'd stop, every time. Was it because of the assassin thing?"

Julian almost spits out his drink. "Yes, it was because of theassassin thing," he says, sarcasm tinging his voice. He's a little drunk now, too, I can tell. "Jesus, Isabelle, you make it sound like nothing. But you didn't know I was lying to you about everything." He picks up his wine and drains it in one swallow, his throat working. "I would have been even more of a monster if I'd fucked you while I was lying to you."

"Well, you did, in that hotel room."

"You made it too hard not to."

A slow smile twitches at the corners of my mouth, and I glance down pointedly below the table where he's sitting. "And is it, still? Hard, I mean?"

Julian sucks in a breath. "Isabelle…"

"Well? Is it?"

His eyes narrow, darkening. "It's always hard around you."

He knows exactly what I meant, and I know exactly what he's saying. A flush of heat washes through me, and I bite my lip.

"You have no idea how close I came to breaking. How many times I almost gave in." His voice drops low. "Every time you came out of the shower, I had to leave the room. Because if I stayed, I would have touched you. I would have pushed youagainst the wall and kissed you until you couldn't breathe, until you were begging me to fuck you the way I did in Ibiza." He takes a drink, his throat working. "Every time, I had to remind myself why I couldn't have you. Why touching you would be wrong when you didn't know the truth about what I was.

"That self-defense training was torture. Having you that close, feeling your body against mine—" His jaw tightens. "I was hard the entire time. Aching with it. And you knew exactly what you were doing to me."

"I wanted what we had in Ibiza." I take another drink, swallowing hard. "Before all of this. You made me feel so good. Not just the sex, even though that was incredible… but you made me feel like I could just be… me. I know I can be spoiled and sheltered and naive, but you stripped me all the way down and let me be myself. I've never had anything like that before, and I…"I never will again, I almost say, but that feels like too much even for tonight, when we're a little wine drunk right before this all comes to a head. I can't let him have that much, not until he gives me more. Maybe not ever.

"I couldn't. Not while I was lying to you. Not while you didn't know—" He stops, his hand clenching around his glass. "I'm a trained soldier. An elite assassin. I've killed more people than I can count. I've faced down armed enemies and walked away without a scratch. But you—" His eyes meet mine. "You unmade me. You destroyed my control. I've never felt so powerless in my life."

He presses his lips together. "But you said no more. Even after that last time… you said we needed to stop. Not friends, not lovers." He leans back in his chair. "I might be a killer, but I can respect boundaries, Isabelle."

The words send a thrill through me. I like that about him. I like that even now, even wanting me, he's not pushing past the line I drew. That he's giving me the choice, the control, thepower to decide what happens next. I see the heat in his eyes, the dark, wide pupils, the quick pulse in his throat, and the rise of his chest as he breathes heavily. I know he's hard right now. He wants me, but he won't take me. Not unless I make him feel sure that I want it.

I want more than just sex from him. But sex is the easiest thing in the world to relent on, especially with him. And the idea of making him beg for it, getting back a little of what I feel I lost by giving him so much when there was so much I didn't know…

I take another drink of wine, feeling the alcohol buzzing through my veins, loosening the last of my inhibitions. "What if I said I could be convinced?"

Julian goes very still, his eyes narrowing. "Convinced of what?"

"To forgive you. To let you back in." I set down my glass and stand. "If you groveled well enough. If your apology was sufficiently thorough."

His eyes narrow, and his gaze slides over me, dark and hungry. "What kind of groveling did you have in mind?"

"I'll know it when I see it." I'm playing with fire, and I know it, but the wine has made me reckless. Made me willing to take what I want instead of denying myself out of anger, hurt, or pride. Or maybe it's more than the wine—maybe it's the fact that tomorrow, we either fix this or we fail, and if the latter happens, if Vivienne can't be convinced to call off the contract, I don't know what happens next.

Either way, this is my last night with Julian. And I want to remember it my way.

I look at him steadily, across the room. "Show me how sorry you are, Julian."

For a long moment, he doesn't move. He just sits there staring up at me with those dark eyes, his jaw tight, his handsclenched on the arms of the chair. Then, slowly, he slides out of the chair and onto his knees.

"Like this?" he asks, his voice rough. "Is this what you want?"

I look down at him—this dangerous, lethal man on his knees before me—and feel power surge through me like electricity. "It's a start. But I think you can do better."

"Better how?"

"With less clothing." The words come out confident, even though my heart is pounding. "Crawl to me properly, Julian. Show me you mean it."

His eyes flash, but he doesn't argue. He reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. His chest is bare now, all lean muscle and scattered scars, and I can see his breathing has quickened. "Better?" he asks.

"Keep going."