Beauty and the Assassin

He doesn’t respond.

“And I wouldn’t sleep curled up next to a man I planned to ditch, either.”

He still doesn’t say anything.

“If you want us to be together, then I want you to take better care of yourself. No more getting stabbed or, or…shot or whatever. You wouldn’t like it if I put myself in danger.”

He tilts his head and gives me a long, hard look. “I wouldn’t let you.”

“Because you’re bigger and stronger than me. Sadly, I’m not in that position, so I have to rely on you to be good to yourself.”

“I’m always good to myself,” he mutters.

“Fine. So no taking needless risks. I’m really fond of your body.”

“So am I.”

“And your face, too.”

“Good.”

“And I’m crazy about you, too, Tolyan. You don’t have to do anything insane to prove yourself. If we’re always honest with each other, words will be enough. Does that make sense?”

He gives a slow nod, his body tense.

I reach over, take his large hand in mine and thread our fingers together. His pulse throbs against my palm, and I kiss the back of his hand. “Since I don’t want any misunderstanding, I’m going to make it as plain as possible. I love you too. And I want to try to make this relationship work. What do you say?”

“I say that’s the best idea I’ve heard in my life.” And he presses his lips to mine.

Chapter Forty-Three

Tolyan

–one year and several months later

Comfortable in my favorite armchair, I look up from my tablet as the little fawn comes home, her step light.

“How did your group study go?” I ask, then sip my vodka. It’s a little after three, and I’m working from home today.

“Good. I think I’m ready for the econ midterm on Monday.”

I nod. She enrolled in UCLA this year. Going to college is her dream, so I did everything possible to support her. I’m proud of her for also continuing to work at the foundation part-time. She wants to get a degree in economics and math in four years and use her education to help the less fortunate.

“Should you be drinking while you’re working?” she asks.

I cock an eyebrow. “Should you even ask that question?” I flick my eyes to the dining table. “Remember our poker game?”

Her cheeks flush, making her look younger and cuter. She has this odd notion that I shouldn’t drink. On top of that, she seems to believe that if I have more than a single bottle of vodka I won’t be able to control myself.

So to prove her wrong, we played strip poker after I had more than a bottle. I won hand after hand until she was bare except for the tiny black thong. Then I got bored with the game and had my way with her until she nearly blacked out from climaxing.

She clears her throat. “Yes, well, anywaaay, we’re thinking about doing the group project together for part of the econ final, too.”

Her attempt at changing the topic is cute, so I let it slide. No need to embarrass her over what should be a good, satisfying memory for both of us.

I look down at the tablet and skim the background check I have on the kids in her econ study group. They’re clean except for one guy with four tickets for reckless driving…and a DUI. He better not offer to drive her anywhere. I let her drive my Audi convertible because she looks adorable—that’s the only word for it—in the car, but you never know with young men. Their brains are full of testosterone and a special “young and immortal” psychosis that makes them act like monocellular idiots.

I should also note those male idiots might consider stalking her. It’s too bad humans don’t pee on each other to mark their territory.