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have gotten a little complicated this evening.”
His eyes glinted like smoky topaz. “Complicated how?”
He wasn’t shooting me on the spot. Good for me, sloppy on his part.
“Somebody set me up,” I said. “I was supposed to kill Giles and walk away, but somebody had other ideas. They wanted to kill me before I did the job, then blame me for his murder. If you check up on the catwalk, you’ll find a dead man. His name is Brutus. He’s an assassin. Goes by the nickname Viper.”
Caine took another step forward. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you believe. The point is Gordon Giles is still in danger. I’d be more worried about him than me.”
The detective thought about it, his black jacket struggling to contain the strength of his coiled muscles. His features were rough and rugged in the shadows. Patches of darkness painted his cheekbones, but the moonlight frosted his dark hair and outlined his thick lips.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I thought about those lips against mine. His heavy tongue stroking my own, then moving down my body one sweet, slow inch at a time, before plunging into the curls at the junction of my thighs. Mmm.
“You’re coming with me,” he said.
With his free hand, Caine reached inside his jacket pocket and drew out a pair of silverstone handcuffs. He tossed them on the balcony between us. The metal clinked to a stop at my booted feet.
“Put those on.”
“Handcuffs. Kinky. But I prefer to have a bit more freedom during sex. Don’t you?”
Caine jerked as though I’d yanked the gun out of his hands and shot him. His eyes flicked down my body, going to my breasts and thighs, before coming back to my face. Yeah, he was thinking about it. All the distraction I needed.
“There’s no need to bother with those because you aren’t taking me in, detective.”
“Where are you going to go?” Caine asked. “You’re trapped up here.”
I smiled. “Me? Trapped? Never.”
Using my legs, I turned, leaped up onto the balcony wall, and launched myself over the side into the darkness below.
6
I managed to propel myself far enough out from the balcony so that I missed the sharp, jagged rocks of the cliffs below. The wind screeched in my ears before my body plunged into the murky depths of the Aneirin River.
I flipped over during my descent and hit the water feetfirst. The force of my fall ripped the weapons from my hands and knifed me down to the rocky riverbed, fifty feet below the surface. The black water was so cold I felt like I’d been flash-frozen. The icy, cruel shock of it stole precious air from my lungs. But I didn’t flail or try to struggle to the surface. Instead I let the current catch me in its rough embrace and drag me downriver. I started counting the seconds in my head. Ten, twenty, thirty …
When I reached forty-five, I kicked up. My waterlogged clothes and boots weighed me down, but I broke free of the water. I gasped in a breath and sank back under the surface. Ten, twenty, thirty …
When I reached forty-five, I kicked up again. This time, I stayed up. I treaded water and looked back at the opera house. Lights blazed on the balcony, from which I’d jumped. Figures moved back and forth on the ledge, but I was too far away to see who they were. I wondered if Donovan Caine was still on the balcony. Or if he’d gone back to Gordon Giles to hustle the accountant to safety.
But I couldn’t think about them right now. I had to reach Fletcher. Even though Brutus was dead, news of the botched assassination attempt would start leaking out—along with the fact Giles was still alive. Whoever had hired Brutus would start cleaning house, killing everyone who might be able to point the finger of guilt at him, including Fletcher.
I turned my head and swam for shore.
It took me twenty minutes to reach the opposite side of the river. By the time I plodded up the sloping, muddy bank, I’d drifted half a mile downstream from the
His eyes glinted like smoky topaz. “Complicated how?”
He wasn’t shooting me on the spot. Good for me, sloppy on his part.
“Somebody set me up,” I said. “I was supposed to kill Giles and walk away, but somebody had other ideas. They wanted to kill me before I did the job, then blame me for his murder. If you check up on the catwalk, you’ll find a dead man. His name is Brutus. He’s an assassin. Goes by the nickname Viper.”
Caine took another step forward. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you believe. The point is Gordon Giles is still in danger. I’d be more worried about him than me.”
The detective thought about it, his black jacket struggling to contain the strength of his coiled muscles. His features were rough and rugged in the shadows. Patches of darkness painted his cheekbones, but the moonlight frosted his dark hair and outlined his thick lips.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I thought about those lips against mine. His heavy tongue stroking my own, then moving down my body one sweet, slow inch at a time, before plunging into the curls at the junction of my thighs. Mmm.
“You’re coming with me,” he said.
With his free hand, Caine reached inside his jacket pocket and drew out a pair of silverstone handcuffs. He tossed them on the balcony between us. The metal clinked to a stop at my booted feet.
“Put those on.”
“Handcuffs. Kinky. But I prefer to have a bit more freedom during sex. Don’t you?”
Caine jerked as though I’d yanked the gun out of his hands and shot him. His eyes flicked down my body, going to my breasts and thighs, before coming back to my face. Yeah, he was thinking about it. All the distraction I needed.
“There’s no need to bother with those because you aren’t taking me in, detective.”
“Where are you going to go?” Caine asked. “You’re trapped up here.”
I smiled. “Me? Trapped? Never.”
Using my legs, I turned, leaped up onto the balcony wall, and launched myself over the side into the darkness below.
6
I managed to propel myself far enough out from the balcony so that I missed the sharp, jagged rocks of the cliffs below. The wind screeched in my ears before my body plunged into the murky depths of the Aneirin River.
I flipped over during my descent and hit the water feetfirst. The force of my fall ripped the weapons from my hands and knifed me down to the rocky riverbed, fifty feet below the surface. The black water was so cold I felt like I’d been flash-frozen. The icy, cruel shock of it stole precious air from my lungs. But I didn’t flail or try to struggle to the surface. Instead I let the current catch me in its rough embrace and drag me downriver. I started counting the seconds in my head. Ten, twenty, thirty …
When I reached forty-five, I kicked up. My waterlogged clothes and boots weighed me down, but I broke free of the water. I gasped in a breath and sank back under the surface. Ten, twenty, thirty …
When I reached forty-five, I kicked up again. This time, I stayed up. I treaded water and looked back at the opera house. Lights blazed on the balcony, from which I’d jumped. Figures moved back and forth on the ledge, but I was too far away to see who they were. I wondered if Donovan Caine was still on the balcony. Or if he’d gone back to Gordon Giles to hustle the accountant to safety.
But I couldn’t think about them right now. I had to reach Fletcher. Even though Brutus was dead, news of the botched assassination attempt would start leaking out—along with the fact Giles was still alive. Whoever had hired Brutus would start cleaning house, killing everyone who might be able to point the finger of guilt at him, including Fletcher.
I turned my head and swam for shore.
It took me twenty minutes to reach the opposite side of the river. By the time I plodded up the sloping, muddy bank, I’d drifted half a mile downstream from the
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