Page 8 of Twisted Temptation

"I'm not here for money."

The words hang in the air between us, then I see the moment she understands. Her lips part with a silent gasp, but her eyes remain firmly on me.

"You're here to kill him," she says.

Joseph makes a small, broken sound behind her.

"Yes," I say, because I don't see the point in lying.

"And now I've walked in and seen your face."

"Yes."

"So, I'm a problem."

"You're a complication."

She stares at me. And then she does something I genuinely don’t expect.

She laughs.

It's short and harsh and has nothing pleasant in it.

"A complication. That's great. That's really fucking great. The cherry on top of a shit sundae." She runs both hands over her face and blows out a breath. "Okay. So what happens now? You kill us both? Shoot us and drive off, job well done?"

Okay, who is this woman?

"I haven't decided yet."

"Well, take your time. We'll wait," she snaps.

Her sarcasm is so bone-dry that it catches me off-guard. Behind me, John Marco straightens because this little dynamite has just piqued his interest too.

Usually, this kind of disrespect would end with bloody consequences.

But the way she's standing there, all fury and defiance in her T-shirt and yoga pants, with big eyes burning with contempt while her hands shake at her sides ... damn, she’s got my attention.

I think she’s just reached the end of her tether. It’s written all over her face. This is the final straw.

Which only interests me more.

My eyes linger too long on her face, and her eyes narrow at me. A flush crawls up her neck, and my body appears to like that too because my cock stirs and I have a rampant desire to run my lips up her throat to her jaw.

"What do you plan to do with us?" she asks, her chin lifting a little higher.

Before I can answer, John Marco clears his throat behind me.

"I know what you should do with her," he says. "That little matter of you appeasing the capos."

I know exactly what he's suggesting.

No.

The refusal is instant and absolute, and very bone-deep.

"It's a time-sensitive matter," he reminds me, pushing off the filing cabinet. "And you're standing in a room with a very elegant solution."

"Choose your next words carefully."