Beauty and the Assassin

Elizabeth looks surprised. “Reckless? Never. He’s methodical, careful”—she searches for a word—“dispassionate. That’s what makes him good at what he does.”

That’s what I think, too. There are other adjectives, but the three she listed would all make my top ten list to describe Tolyan. “But he said he got stabbed for me,” I blurt out.

She tilts her head, her eyebrows pulling together to form a deep V as she considers. “He must’ve decided getting stabbed was important, and it was worth it to achieve his objective.”

He told me his objective was to have me stay. He said he loved me. I haven’t answered him one way or the other. I’m still overwhelmed by the depth of his need for me.

The thing is, I do love him. I think I fell in love with him the moment he showed up on the jogging trail with his three Dobermans. I just didn’t realize that until now.

“I see. Thank you for all you’ve done. Tolyan and I will head home now.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“We will.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Angelika

When we’re back home, the Dobermans rush toward us, their tongues hanging out in excitement. We don’t usually come home this early, so maybe they think we’re here just to play with them.

Tolyan gives them treats, then lets them out on the rooftop. They jump around and play with each other while we sit by the pool. The water reflects the late-morning sun. He hasn’t swum since Friday.

But it’s nice to be out by the pool and soak up the warm sunlight. I realize I’ve never been by the pool since I moved in with him.

“When are you getting the stitches out?” I ask, looking at the spot where he got stabbed. Sometimes I still feel like I can see the blood dripping.

“Friday,” he says.

“I’ll go with you.”

“It isn’t necessary.”

“It is when you got stabb

ed to keep me. Who knows what other reckless thing you might do?”

He frowns a little. “If I knew you’d hang it over my head, I wouldn’t have told you, no matter how much you insisted on honesty.”

“Not having honesty would totally doom our relationship. I can’t be with a guy who lies.”

“But you would’ve never found out.”

Spoken like a true Machiavellian! And so missing the point. “That’s when you should be the most honest!”

“Why?” A small bit of resentment roughens his voice. “I haven’t received much reward for the effort.”

“Uh, I seem to remember that I did reward—”

“No. You staying with me long-term, ideally forever, which you haven’t committed to yet. You said ‘I love you’ would be enough, but you never responded when I said it to you. The sex afterward was nice, but it doesn’t really mean anything.”

Is he sulking? I didn’t respond because I simply couldn’t speak with all the emotions surging inside me when he said the words, and then with the kiss and everything else afterward, it sort of faded into the background. Regardless… “I can’t believe you’re being this cynical. Sex means a great deal.”

“Yes, like goodbye.” His lips purse for a fraction of a second.

I stare at him. His mouth is set in that flat, stubborn line, his pose indolent and confident. But I swear I sense a hint of vulnerability in what he said.

And that makes me want to hug him and kiss him until he realizes I didn’t have sex with him to say goodbye. “I wouldn’t fuss over a man I planned to leave.”