Page 11 of Sinner's Sacrifice
“Women are disappearing, some of them my friends, off the street, and no one is doing anything about it,” she said as quietly and with as much anger.
Ah, now he understood. He leaned down to whisper right in her ear, “The man who killed your sister is dead.”
She froze for a moment, and he stopped walking long enough for her feet to start moving again.
A sad sound came out of Sam’s throat. “But there’s always another one, isn’t there?” She turned her head to look at him with eyes devoid of hope. “Another fiend who sees women as objects to own, as something less than human.”
He wanted to tell her he would destroy anyone who behaved that way toward women, but that would be a never-ending job.
She looked as if she might cry, as if one more touch would shatter her into a million pieces.
“And there are always those who seek to stop the uglier parts of us,” he said, hoping to jolt her thinking out of the deep, dark hole it had gone into. “People like yourself, for whom justice, equality, and compassion are important.”
She did stare at him now. Her gaze as sharp and bright as a laser. “Is that why you saved me that night? The night my sister was murdered?” She stopped walking again and lifted her chin. “You saw me as someone you could rescue? Some kind of solace to your conscience?”
She tried to yank her hand away from his arm, but he held it there.
“I do not want to have this conversation with you in the middle of the hotel lobby,” he said between clenched teeth and a fake smile. “We’re surrounded by people and security cameras.” He pulled her toward the staff only elevators.
She snorted, but came along with him.
They got in an elevator car, and he punched the button for his personal suite. Not the penthouse, as many assumed it would be, but three floors lower. It took up half of the floor and had a private deck that was screened by a wall of vines and other plants. Most people thought it was part of the kitchen garden the chef had on the other side of the floor.
Once they were moving, he turned and moved toward Samantha fast enough to make her gasp and back-up. In two steps, he had her up against the wall of the elevator, caged by his hands on the wall on either side of her head.
“Let’s get something clear between us,” he said as he stared down into her gaze. She smelled absolutely scrumptious, and she’d put on makeup that highlighted her eyes and mouth.
He wanted to lick and bite her plump lips to see if they felt and tasted as good as they looked. His cock, which had been hard since he first saw her in that dress, got harder.
Her eyes grew wide, and she glanced down.
He’d pressed up against her, letting her feel his erection against her.
“Does that feel like something as simple as solace?” he asked, his tone soft and controlled.
“What?” she asked, dragging her eyes back up to meet his gaze.
“I didn’t step in between you and that crazy person who killed your sister because I needed a company mascot,” he said, desire thick in his voice.
Her mouth dropped open. “You expect me to believe you fell into insta-lust with me, and that’s why you stopped that...that animal?”
He bared his teeth. “I did it because he needed to be stopped. I’m sorry I didn’t stop him sooner.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled. Her scent soothed and inflamed him at the same time. “And I think you’re blind to your appeal.”
“Appeal,” she repeated flatly. “Appeal?” She laughed, but it was a brittle, broken sound. “You haven’t so much as looked at me with more than annoyance since that night.”
She sounded...disappointed.
He had to force his hands to stay where they were. “If I let you see how much I want you, you’d run away from me.”
“You? Scared of rejection?” she asked in an amused tone.
“Fear isn’t giving me an erection.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s the dress.”
“It’s not the dress,” he repeated, softly in her ear.
She stomped one foot on the floor and punched him in the stomach with one hand.