She took a deep, shuddering breath and stood up, facing him down. "Connor," she said. "That was beyond paranoid. That was my most valuable client. Are you deliberately trying to sabotage me?"
He shrugged. "You were about to tell that guy the address. Which cancels out any advantage that coming here might have given you."
She stalked over to the window and slid it violently shut. "And what possessed you to make me say that you were my boyfriend?"
"It draws less attention than saying I'm your bodyguard. It explains why I stick to you like a burr and give dirty looks to any man who gets near you. It's the standard jealous boyfriend act. Most women have dumped at least one of those losers and then put out a restraining order on him."
"I never have," she snapped.
"Don't worry, Erin. I was an undercover cop for nine years. I'm a good actor. You're not required to fuck me to make it convincing."
Her jaw dropped at his crude words. "Oh! Thank you, Connor! I am so comforted and reassured by that thoughtful remark!"
"I'm not aiming to reassure you," he retorted.
"That's pretty damn obvious!" she yelled back. "Do you have any idea how bad this makes me look? Mueller took an earlier flight from Paris specifically to meet with me tonight!"
"Oh, God, no." His face was a caricature of dismay. "The disappointed billionaire, eating his caviar all alone in the flickering candlelight Poor Claude. You're breaking my heart."
She lifted her chin. "That's it." She grabbed her suitcase. "I was wrong to humor you. You have no respect for my work, and you are completely out of your mind. I am leaving—oof!"
He spun her around. "You're not going anywhere."
"Yes, I am." She backed away, but he was gripping her shoulders. "I've had enough of your—Connor!" The world tipped and spun, and she landed on the bed, bouncing. The bouncing stopped when he landed on top of her, pinning her down with his big, hard body.
"No," he said calmly, as if lying on top of her were no big deal. "You're not going anywhere, Erin."
She forced herself to close her mouth. Her heart thudded so hard, she was sure he could feel it against his chest. She struggled beneath his solid weight, and the movement felt… sensual.
She went motionless. "Connor. Don't," she whispered.
He cupped her face in his big hands. "Novak should've been taken out back when we had a chance. Same with Georg. I should've finished him off, but I let the system take care of him. Which was stupid, because the system is rotten with holes. Jesse fell through one of them and died. I fell through another one. I'm alive out of sheer, dumb luck. Novak and Georg escaped out of another hole. Are you following me?"
She gave him a tiny nod.
"I'm not going to let you fall through one of those holes, Erin. I won't leave you alone. I won't disappear. Is that understood?"
She dragged in another tiny breath. "Can't breathe."
He lifted himself up onto his elbows, still pinning her. "Let me tell you something about Kurt Novak."
She shook her head. "Please, don't. I don't want to think about—"
"Tough shit. Look at me."
She winced, and slowly, reluctantly met his gaze.
"His dad is a big guy in the Eastern European mafiya. Hungarian. Probably one of the richest men in the world. He arranged to send his boy to college in the States. I imagine the plan was to groom him to go legit, to broaden the power base, but Kurt, well, he was kind of a funny guy. Weird things started to happen at the dorm. It culminated in a girl getting strangled to death during sex."
Erin squeezed her eyes shut. "Connor, I don't—"
"Lucky for our boy Kurt, this girl wasn't rich, or the daughter of a politician or a general. Her mom was a widowed research librarian who didn't have the resources to fight the big fight. Or maybe it wasn't luck, maybe Kurt thought it through, at the tender age of nineteen. The thing was hushed up and paid off, and Kurt gets whisked back to Europe, to recover from the unpleasantness on the ski slopes of the Alps."
She turned her face away, but his hand forced it back until she met his eyes again. "Look at me when I talk to you, Erin."
How dare he order her. She wanted to say something sharp to put him in his place, but the intensity of his eyes wiped her mind blank.
"Do you know, if a normal, well-behaved dog starts to chase sheep and brings one down, he'll never stop. He can't forget the thrill, the taste of blood in his mouth."
"No. I didn't know that," she whispered.
"Well, why would you? You're a city girl. But anyhow, the dog has an excuse. He's just reverting back to what nature originally programmed him to do. But Novak, he discovered his true passion in life that night. Murdering young women is an expensive vice for him, like fine cocaine. Or collecting priceless Celtic artifacts."
She shook her head. "It's not possible, Connor. Mueller is—"
"Do you see why I'm freaked out by this? Please, Erin. Tell me that at least one person gets it. I'm dangling all alone out here. There's a guy loose who gets off on snuffing beautiful girls, and he knows your name. Tell me I have a right to be nervous for you!"
The desperate appeal in his voice made her want to put her arms around him and agree to anything, if only it would make him feel better. She stopped herself just in time. A nervous giggle escaped her. "I'm not such a prize. Novak could do better than me in the beauty department."
He looked incredulous. "Huh?"
"Cindy's the beauty, Erin's the brain," she babbled. "That's what my mother always says. It never occurs to her that it makes Cindy feel stupid and me feel ugly. But she means well. She always means well."
He frowned. "You are kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding."
She bit her lip. Her eyes slid away from his.
"Jesus," he said. "You are gorgeous. You must know that."
Color flooded into her face. "Please don't be ridiculous."
"I'm not the ridiculous one." He shifted so that his leg lay between hers. Her skirt was shoved up practically to her bottom.
"Connor." She stopped, and tried to calm the quiver in her voice. "Don't tell me any more about Novak. I don't want to dwell on violence and evil. I'm trying to think positively. I don't want to know."
"You can't run away from the truth."
She shoved at his chest. "I've faced enough ugly truths!"
"You don't get to decide when it's enough," he said. "None of us gets to decide. You can't control it. Ever."
"I can try," she snapped.
"Sure, you can try. But you'll just hurt yourself."
The bleak look in his eyes made the words she had wanted to say evaporate. Her chest was heaving, as if she'd been running.
"Please, Erin." His voice was low, impassioned. "I'll try to behave. I won't ruin your life. Just play along with me. Let me do my thing."
All this protective intensity, all for her. Yearning twisted her heart.
Connor had faced a lot of harsh truths, and he was still fighting. Still trying heroically to do the right thing. She wanted to grab him and say, Oh yes. Save me from the big bad world. And while you're at it, kiss me senseless. And for God's sake, don't stop there.
She gathered up every last scrap of her self-control. "Um, maybe I could be more lucid and reasonable about all this if you weren't lying on top of me, squashing me flat and ruining my suit. Do you mind?"
His face tightened. He lifted himself off of her instantly.
She kicked off the shoe that still clung to her foot, sat up, and curled her legs up beneath her. Connor hunched on the edge of the bed with his back to her. Silently waiting.
Her dream flashed through her mind: the way he followed her with such stubborn patience. Never losing sight of her, never giving up. She wanted to drape herself across his broad shoulders and hug him.