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believed he could—would capture her father. “Do you want him to live?” He had no plans on killing Rathe, but if she wanted the monster kept alive he needed to find out why.
    “No. There’s no jail that can hold him. Even if there was, there isn’t a court that would convict him. I don’t want to be doing this again in another two years.”
    Her lack of faith in their justice system was understandable. “What do you want to be doing in two years?”
    “Lying on a beach as far away from this fucked-up little world as geographically possible.” She didn’t know where the idea had come from. She hadn’t taken a true vacation in years. But, now that it was out there, she had to admit it had some appeal. Not as a lifestyle—she craved the chaos and fast pace of her career too much to be happy relaxing on a day-to-day basis—but definitely as a vacation option. There was nothing like the sun, sand and drinks with little umbrellas to make your problems melt away.
    “What, you don’t want to spend more time with me? That hurts.” He clutched his heart in mock pain. “And here I thought we were getting along so well.”
    “You’re a good temporary distraction, but I plan on being a distant memory in two years time.”
    “Don’t worry. When I get my hands on him, it’ll be finished. You’ll never have to deal with your father again. But something tells me you’ll never be a distant memory. Not to any of us.”
    She finished the wine and then stood to stretch. Every muscle from her arms to her calves tensed for a second and, with his shirt riding up an inch or two with the movement, it painted the image of womanly perfection.
    “I hope you’re wrong about that,” she said when she relaxed. “You seem like a good guy, but I meant what I said. I’m not looking for family or alliances.”
    She took a step away from him, but he couldn’t let her go. Not yet. “And what is it, exactly, that makes me seem like a good guy? The bonding you or the using you to presumably kill your father? I’m a little confused.”
    She didn’t bring her gaze up to his, but her lack of immediate answer made him believe she was giving his question some real thought. “Does it matter?”
    “Yes, it matters. Why don’t you hate me? Why aren’t you angry?” God, what he’d give to have her angry with him. That’d be so much easier to deal with. With her smart, sultry attitude and intelligent questions, he could already feel the desire to trust her—to treat her as a partner in this instead of his pawn. And if that happened, it spelled disaster. Say what she might about Molly or her father, the only thing she wanted was to be free of him. He had to remember that.
    “Maybe I do. And maybe I am. I might be manipulating you to get what I want just as you’re manipulating me.” She took another step, but paused as she rested her hip against the table. “On the other hand, I might understand why you bound me. Like you, I’d do anything for my sister. And I might really want to help Molly. She stood by me when nobody else would.”
    “And you have no plans on telling me which one it is, do you?”
    She turned to look at him and smiled. “Now why would I do that? It would spoil all the fun of this game we’re playing.”
    He sank into a chair as he tried to figure out where their conversation had taken such a wrong turn. “You think you’re playing with me?”
    “I know, you think you hold all the cards in this game. It hasn’t once occurred to you that you wouldn’t be able to keep me if that wasn’t what I wanted.”
    She waved flirtatiously at him, just a flick of her delicate fingers, and then walked out of the room.
    What the hell was he going to do now? His captive seductress seemed convinced she was playing him, and he wasn’t entirely convinced she was wrong at this point. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she seemed to be enjoying the game far more than he. Even with all the scenarios and contingencies he’d