“That all really depends,” said the low, chilling voice laced with a familiar accent she had no trouble placing. “How badly would you like to keep your hands?”
Juliette whirled around, her heart already somersaulting in her chest before she even set eyes on him.
Painfully beautiful with his dark hair swept back and his face flawlessly shaven, Killian joined the circle that was her, the table and the four men, with Frank at his back like a hulking shadow. He scrutinized the four blinking back at him with a steely glower that made Juliette shiver.
“I suggest you reconsider your method of payment very carefully, gentleman,” he drawled in that same icy tone.
The birthday boy’s father came out of his shock first.
“Who the hell are you?”
Killian fixed him with those dark, penetrating eyes. “I am the man who could make this a very bad day for your son.”
“Killian…” Her breathy whisper was silenced by a single sidelong glance shot her way from over his shoulder before he went back to addressing the men at the table.
Gleaming, black sunglasses were set neatly on the table and bracketed by long, square palms planted flat on either side as Killian leaned forward.
“Pick up your money,” he told the other man. “You’ve decided you’ll be paying by debit. Juliette, get the machine.”
Left with no other option, Juliette left the group quickly and returned barely a minute later to find all four men ashen faced and trembling as plastic cards were practically thrown at her. The birthday boy’s father looked nearly in tears and there was a faint, red welt circling his throat that she was almost certain hadn’t been there before she’d left.
Her gaze shot to Killian, who stood a few feet away from the table, hands clasped together around his glasses as he waited for her to finish. He met her gaze from a face carved in absolute calm, but it was the barely suppressed fury crashing behind his eyes that captured her.
The party paid for their bill and, as Juliette noted, left a very generous tip before scrambling out of their booth to find their children. Part of her wondered if they would ever come back and realized she hoped not.
With nothing left to occupy her attention, she had no choice but to face the man she hadn’t seen in over a week, a man she hadn’t thought she would ever see again, honestly. And while the sight of him filled her with a sort of lightness she wasn’t sure what to do with, she was also apprehensive and a little scared; she highly doubted Killian McClary made courtesy calls to people who were sent to betray him.
“Hi,” she whispered for lack of anything better.
“Hello,” he replied with that same scary calm voice she wished he would stop using.
He studied her face before dipping down past her shoulders and taking in the rest of her. She could feel the careful glide of his eyes along every contour like hungry hands. The intensity made her painfully aware of all the skin not covered by the uniform, all the skin branded by his touch. There were nights she could still feel the phantom caress of his fingers skating, tracing … teasing, and she’d wake up gasping and throbbing for more. So many times she pondered the idea of going to his house or the club and begging him to take her again, just once more, but common sense had always prevailed and she had been forced to take matters into her own clumsy and far less adequate hands.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when he said nothing else.
“I need to know something,” he said, dragging his attention back up her flushed and embarrassingly aroused body to settle on her eyes. “Why did you come home with me that night? Why didn’t you get out when I gave you the chance?”
Heat crept up her neck to spill into her cheeks and burn behind her eyes. “This isn’t the time or place—”
“Why?” he cut in not unkindly. “I could have been worse than Arlo. I could have done horrible things to you, but you still didn’t run. Tell me why, Juliette.”
Nerves and something sharp and coppery like fear roiled in the pit of her stomach. It flexed up fill her chest with a weight that made it impossible to breath. Yet it never crossed her mind to lie.
“Arlo promised that if I slept with you, he would consider my father’s debt paid.” She bit her lip hard enough to ward back the prickle of tears. “I wouldn’t have otherwise. I’m not like that. I don’t sleep with men for money or…” She turned away with the pretenses of clearing away the discarded plastic cups and napkins left behind by the party. “I’m not a whore.”
His hand closed around her wrist just as she snatched at a wad of used napkin. She released it as she was drawn around to face him.
“Who would know that better than me?” he asked quietly.
It was true. He had firsthand knowledge of her innocence. Yet it didn’t ward away the flood of shame she could feel stinging her cheeks.
“It was you or him,” she whispered.
“And I was the lesser of two evils,” he finished with a sort of humor that she couldn’t bring herself to share.
She shook her head. “He was going to give me to his men after he finished.” She lowered her eyes to the sharp point of his Adam’s apple. “I don’t regret it being you.”
It was only when she felt the hot glide of his palm following the curve of her side to splay between her shoulder blades that she realized he had taken over the space between them. His heat and scent curled around her like comforting arms and it took all her restraint not to close whatever distance was left and surrender. As it were, all she could manage was to fall recklessly into his eyes and pray to God she wouldn’t regret it later.
“Good,” he murmured, drawing back.
The hand around her wrist released and extended to the man standing mutely a few feet away, seemingly having gone deaf and blind throughout the entire interaction. A white envelope was passed over and Killian held it out to Juliette.
She took the legal sized packet and flipped open the top. She peered inside at the small stack of papers.
“Contract of Agreement?” she read out loud before lifting her head to him questioningly. “What’s this?”
“That is the solution to our problem,” he stated, dropping his arm from around her as well and taking a step back. “It will get rid of Arlo from both our lives for good.”
Juliette gasped. She shoved the envelope back against his chest, horrified.
“I am not going to … to contract you to kill him!” she hissed. “Are you crazy? This is so wrong, not to mention illegal!”
Killian’s mouth twitched as silent laughter glittered in his eyes. “It’s not a hit contract,” he said gently. “I wouldn’t need your consent to kill him if that was what I wanted. This,” he placed the envelope back in her hands, “is me giving you what you want.”
Wary, but intrigued, Juliette reached into the packet and removed the papers. The document had all the beginnings and markings of a normal, legal contract, but she still didn’t understand.
“I don’t get it.” She raised her head. “What is this?”
“I’m going to pay off your father’s debt.”
Juliette’s muscles tensed. Her fingers wrinkled the papers clutched tightly between them.
“In exchange for…?”
His eyes were dark pits of hunger and fire boring into hers in a way that left no doubt in her mind that he was remembering every dirty, heart stopping thing he’d done to her. The phantom sensation sent a hot shiver through her that fanned the inferno he’d lit in the pit of her stomach all those nights ago, the one that had never fully extinguished.
“You.” His shoulders rose with his deep inhale. “I want you and in return, I will clear all your debt. I will give you a monthly allowance that will surpass everything you make working three jobs and I will take care of all your wants and needs without question.”
“If I … what? Sleep with you again?”
“Yes!” His nostrils flared like a wolf at the scent of delicious blood. “But not once more. I want you to be mine for a full year.”