Lure (A Hitman's Bait 1)

I slipped my hands into my pockets. “Yes, it can be, but you’ll never be alone. We’ll be around to extricate you from situations that might go wrong.”

He chewed on his bottom lip and tapped slender fingers on his knee. “Will you let me leave this room if I turn you down?”

“Yes, you’re free to go.” I hadn’t told him enough information for him to be any threat to my operation.

“And my dead body won’t be found in a ditch in another state if I leave?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“What about in this state?”

My lips twitched, and I had to force back a grin by pretending to cough into my fist. Humor. Not bad. He was shaping up to being damn near perfect. He also had that ditzy blond thing going for him that some men found appealing.

“No, we need someone willing to do this so they can perform well. If that person isn’t you, you’re free to walk away.”

“Can I negotiate?”

I crossed my arms. “Maybe. Is there something you want?”

“There’s a cat café you have to take me to every week.”

He wasn’t asking for more money? “A what?”

“A cat café. You know where I can pet all the pretty pussies.”

This time my coughing fit wasn’t make-believe. Spit flew down my throat. I poured myself a glass of water, downed it, and sucked in a deep breath. I prided myself on never being rattled by anything, but he had, and not just once either.

There was something about him that made me uneasy. Maybe he wasn’t the right boy after all. I turned to him, his sweet grin and wagging eyebrows incinerating my doubts. He was perfect. Even if he got under my skin a little.

“Can’t you take yourself?”

“I can’t drive,” he said. “Plus, I think you’re too serious. Maybe if you stroke a few pussies too, it’ll put a smile right on your face.”

“Once a month,” I countered, ignoring the rest of his impossible statement. He was trying to get a rise out of me.

“Okay. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“There’s a lot more to this job. We’ll have to train you—”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll need that. I give a mean BJ, and I can ride better than any jockey.”

Did he ever stop? “Not that kind of training. I’m sure you have everything covered on that front.”

“On the back too.” He grinned and winked at me. Then his eyes brightened. “Are you going to want to see a demonstration?”

“Nope. I’ve seen enough. Besides, I highly doubt you’ll be required to sleep with anyone.”

“But I might.”

“Maybe. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Nope. I already do that for money, so it won’t make a difference.”

My stomach flipped at his casual attitude about the possibility of him having to sleep with someone. But that had always been a part of the job description. Wasn’t that the reason I’d picked out a prostitute who seemed capable of stepping outside his comfort zone while not giving up that side of him?

“All right, then. You have yourself a deal.”

“Umm. There’s just one problem.”