“Have you seen her? Is she okay for now?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know. Not for weeks. He likes to . . . he likes to make me wait.”
“He likes to make you suffer,” I corrected her, fury burning through me. “I’m sorry,” I added.
And I was. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through. If someone tried to hurt my niece, I knew it would be hell. For me, my brother, and my sweetheart of a sister-in-law.
I knew the lengths I would go to in order to make them pay.
“I should go,” she said, standing to leave.
“Sit down, Francesca,” I commanded. “We have things to discuss.”
She stared at me, her posture straight and her eyes defiant.
“If you continue to stand there, I’m going to have to kiss you again,” I warned, stepping closer. I wasn’t trying to intimidate her. I was trying to get close enough to carry through on my threat.
God knows, I wanted to.
Unfortunately, she sat.
“We have two problems,” I began.
“Is that all?” she asked tartly, crossing her arms over her glorious chest.
I gave her a dark look and resumed pacing.
“You can’t kill me,” I started, thinking as I walked. “But you can’t not kill me.”
She tilted her beautiful head to the side and gave me a dubious look.
“That leaves us nowhere. I have to do something. He won’t let me stall him forever.”
“Perhaps you aren’t the one who has to do something. But Philip doesn’t need to know that.”
“You want to fake your own death,” she said with a hint of incredulity.
“No. Not really. But it could work. Maybe a rumor would be enough to get him to let his guard down, no?”
She was staring at me with the wheels in her head visibly turning again. I loved watching her think and trying to figure out what she might do or say next. The woman was brilliant and far too unpredictable. Then she shook her head.
“If he finds out we played him . . .” She trailed off, unable to put the worst-case scenario into words. “I can’t risk it.”
I leaned over her, gripping the arms of the chair with my hands. I was physically unable to resist the lure of being close to her a second longer. I stared into her eyes intently, then let my gaze drop to her gorgeous lips.
“Then you’ll have to kill me.”
Her mouth opened in surprise as she took in a startled breath. I was telling her she could kill me. That I wouldn’t blame her. But I needed something first.
“But at least let me die a happy man,” I added meaningfully before swooping down to take her lips in a ferocious kiss, full of passion but little gentleness. I snaked my arms below her lower back and slowly lifted her until our bodies were pressed together, keeping the kiss going, never breaking contact.
I couldn’t break contact. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t have let her go if I tried.
Not if there were a dozen men trying to pull me off her. Not if a bomb went off. Not if aliens landed on earth.
She hesitated a moment before melting against me, her mouth opening under the pressure I applied, her tongue tangling with mine.
I moaned when I finally lifted my head a good while later. I felt like I could kiss her all day. But I wanted more.
“Vincent . . .” she said, a weak protest in her husky voice. The woman looked like an angel and sounded like whiskey and smoke. But she felt like something else entirely, silk and fire and sex, all wrapped up in a delectable package, somehow fitting perfectly into my arms.
“I can’t let you go,” I said, staring down at her. “I won’t,” I added insistently.
“You have to. I can’t stay. He has people watching me, too,” she said, taking a step back. I let my arms drop. I couldn’t let her catch a glimpse the intensity of my feelings for her. I knew she’d run like hell if she knew.
Hell, if I were smart, I would run too.
I was in love with her, deeply, madly, and hopelessly. And I wasn’t just in love with Francesca. I was obsessed.
“I want you. Stay the night.”
“I can’t.”
“But you want to. Admit it,” I demanded.
She didn’t say anything.
I smiled grimly.
“You aren’t leaving until you tell me the truth.”
She exhaled, closing her eyes. When she opened them, I saw everything. She wanted me. More than that, she looked lost. Alone. And I could see something else in her eyes.
Love.
She loved me too.
Our mouths crashed together, tangling and stroking, touching and tasting. My hands moved ceaselessly over her clothes as she clung to my shoulders.
I took everything I wanted from her, every last drop of her pain and suffering. Of her courage. Of her fear. Of her love.
And I gave every bit of it back. I gave her everything I had and more. I would have lassoed the moon for her.