Page 72 of Merciless Heir
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then I’m wrong.”
I might hate him, I realize, for his complete lack of trust in me. I don’t care if it’s warranted or not. I haven’t actually done anything to him. Yet.
“So if you’re wrong, we don’t find it? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“That’s not an option,” I say. “Because that option means I lose. And that’s one thing I don’t do.”
Chapter Nineteen
Kingston
The expression on her face kills me.
I burst in here—jealous as fuck when she called out the name Damon in the kind of voice that told me way too much—and got in her face and then I tell her I don’t trust her.
I’m a complete asshole.
What I should be is happy she left. Happy she’s not trying to entwine our lives together. I don’t want that. She doesn’t either, so why I’m so angry I don’t get. But I am.
The fierceness of her tone doesn’t match the naked vulnerability in her eyes, her expression.
Because she’s right, I could put an end to her sweet little career of catering to the rich by evaluating their security.
And the trust thing? Yeah, I don’t know if I do trust her with the tiara, but I trusted her enough to get down and dirty with in so many filthy and delightful ways I still ache. My cock twitches at the memories and the pleasure she can bring.
Like when she went down on me at some hour between time four and six. This isn’t helping me here, so I put the sex to one side. As much as I can because damn, I could take her now.
“Trust me or don’t trust me,” she says, “but I’m not going to lose. We’ll work out something.”
Suddenly, I laugh and shake my head. “In another world, we’d be perfect for each other. We’re way too alike. Neither one likes losing and we’ll both do what it takes. And you know what, in that I do trust you. But…”
There’s something about her. She’s being ballsy, way more than usual and I don’t know if it’s because she has something planned she’s not telling me about, or whether it’s over last night and at this point, as long as my end result works in my favor, I don’t care.
I don’t want to wait. I need this to be over. Because something tells me the longer she’s in my life, the deeper she’ll go and the harder it’ll be to forget her.
And that’s already going to be near impossible.
“But what?” She casts me a look then goes over to shut her computer down, deliberately. In exaggerated moves, to show me she didn’t like me snooping. Well, too fucking bad.
“But we’re never having a relationship.”
Sadie looks up, pausing, a notebook in hand. And she laughs. It’s the kind of laugh that makes heat flare and burn up the back of my neck and to my face. “A…relationship? You think I want a relationship? With you?”
“No.” I keep my expression neutral. “But I’m putting it out there. I don’t usually go around—”
“Fucking criminals?”
“Fucking women without an understanding.”
Sadie dumps the notebook and comes over, and pats my arm. Hard. “Relax there, hot man. Because you’re hot. But hot doesn’t mean I want to subscribe to Picket Fences Monthly. We had great sex, Kingston. I’ve had great sex before. And I didn’t send out cards announcing we’re going steady. I’m not about to do that with you, either.” She pauses. “Especially when it comes to you.”
“Good. Great. We’re on the same page.”
“To the word.”
I’m not happy, though. Sure, I’m relieved she doesn’t think there’s more, but nothing about this makes me happy. Not one single thing. The sooner she’s out of my life, the better. Call that my mantra of the current times.