Seduced by the Spy (Forbidden Confessions 6)

A sixth sense has me staring at her bed again with its towering wrought-iron headboard. The sloppy way it’s made and the little bump in the middle niggles at me. Quickly, I toss aside the blue and gray throw pillows and yank down the white comforter. In the middle of the flat sheet lies her missing kitchen knife and the pink shreds of some lacy fabric. I fit the pieces back together and realize he sliced up pair of soft shorts and a matching tank top.

Her pajamas.

Shit. If the bastard wanted to scare her right before she went to bed, that would have done it.

My hunch? He meant it as a warning. Whoever he is, he’s threatening her with harm.

He’ll have to go through me first.

I strip the sheets from her bed. I don’t know if the bastard made himself cozy here, too, but I won’t have Vanessa sleeping on these linens in case he did.

After wrapping the ribbons of her pajamas and her knife inside her bedding, I tuck everything under one arm and make my way back to the kitchen. She doesn’t need to know what I found until morning.

When I get there, the kitchen faucet is running, and she’s holding a plate under the stream, staring off into space with a loopy smile. “Vanessa?”

Startled, she drops the plate into the soapy water, then sends me a guilty little grin. “Sorry. I was just…thinking.”

I’d love to know about what, but given the mischief in her smile, I can guess. Fuck if I’m not thinking it, too.

“Sorry to interrupt. I yanked the sheets off your bed in case your intruder was also a creeper. Where’s your washer?”

She points to a little room off the side of the refrigerator. “But I’ll do that.”

“I don’t mind.” I head into the laundry room that looks like she converted half into a pantry. “Go get your shower.”

“Are you sure? I started the dishes for you. I can stay and finish them.” She takes the last swig of wine from her glass—her third—and settles the stem in the soapy water.

I set the bundle of laundry on top of the washer and pick up a bottle of aspirin, shaking out two tablets. “No, I’ll do it. Take these.”

When she puts them in her palm, I fill a glass with some water from the dispenser on the refrigerator door and hand it to her.

She swallows both dutifully. “Thanks.”

I nod. “Do you just want me to hang around while you shower? Or do you want me to stay the night?”

I’m really hoping she chooses the latter. Practically speaking, if I’m close, it will be far easier to protect her. If she tosses me out, I’ll be spending the night in my car. It will suck, but I’ve done it before. But I also know staying will be hell. Being in the same room with her all night long…

Not gonna lie. I’m worried that kind of temptation will make me fatally weak.

She sinks her teeth into her lower lip again. I really wish she’d stop doing that. It makes me too fucking aware of how pouty her mouth is and how badly I’d like to shove it full of my cock.

“I know you probably didn’t come here thinking you’d stay for more than a few minutes…but I’d love it if you hung around tonight. I only have the one bed, but I promise to stay on my side.”

Is she kidding? If it weren’t for her father’s warnings, I’d violate her space—and every other part of her she’d let me—right now.

“Hey, it’s your bed. Sleep however you want. If you’d feel more comfortable, I can pass the night in the chair in the corner.” I pray she agrees. I’m far less likely to cave to desire if I’m not wrapped up in the sheets with her, feeling her all warm and soft while she smells of female and sweetness.

But Vanessa shakes her head…and she’s so tipsy she almost stumbles. As I steady her with an arm around her waist, she giggles. “Ooh! That last glass of wine just hit me. I’ve had too much.”

“After what went down tonight, you needed it.”

“Thank you for being so nice.”

That comment only proves she doesn’t know me at all. No one has ever called me nice. My high kill count explains why.

But I just smile. “You’re welcome.”

“I wish you were a little less nice, though.”

“Do you?”

She sighs. “I don’t know why you showed up tonight, but I was hoping…”

“What?” She’s clearly reluctant to finish her sentence.

“That you’d come here to have sex with me. I would have said yes.”

My heart stops. I nearly choke. She’s serious. That explains all the glances she’s sneaked my way and the little blushes staining her cheeks, but… “I don’t think we should talk about this tonight.”

Or I’ll stop caring who her father is and that I work for him and fuck her anyway.