Michael
"Go."
She pivots and races down the slope. Her dark hair streams behind her. Her scent, femininity and silver moonflowers, clings to my nose, then recedes. It's so familiar, that scent.
I had smelled it before, had reveled in it. Had drawn in it into my lungs as she had peeked up at me from under her thick eyelashes. Her green gaze had fixed on mine, her lips parted as she welcomed my kiss. I had seen her before... in my dreams. I stiffen. She can't be the same girl though, can she?
I reach forward, thrust out my chin and sniff the air, but there's only the damp scent of dawn, mixed with the foul tang of exhaust fumes, as she races away from me.
She stumbles and I jump forward, pause when she straightens. Wait. Wait. Give her a lead. Let her think she has almost escaped, that she's gotten the better of me… As if.
I clench my fists at my sides, force myself to relax. Wait. Wait. She reaches the bottom of the incline, turns. I surge forward. One foot in front of the other. My heels dig into the grassy surface and mud flies up, clings to the hem of my £4000 Italian pants. Like I care? Plenty more where that came from. An entire walk-in closet, full of clothes made to measure, to suit every occasion, with every possible accessory needed by a man in my position to impress…
Everything... Except the one thing that I had coveted from the moment I had laid eyes on her. Sitting there on the grassy slope, unshed tears in her eyes, and reciting… Byron? For hell's sake. Of all the poets in the world, she had to choose the Lord of Darkness.
I huff. All a ploy. Clearly, she knew I was sitting next to her… No, not possible. I had walked toward her and she hadn't stirred. Hadn't been aware. Yeah, I am that good. I've been known to slit a man's throat from ear-to-ear while he was awake and in his full senses. Alive one second, dead the next. That's how it is in my world. You want it, you take it. And I… I want her.
I increase my pace, eat up the distance between myself and the girl… That's all she is. A slip of a thing, a slim blur of motion. Beauty in hiding. A diamond, waiting for me to get my hands on her, polish her, show her what it means to be…
Dead. She is dead. That's why I am here.
A flash of skin, a creamy length of thigh, and I lurch over a bump in the ground. The hell? I right myself, leap forward, inching closer, closer. She reaches a curve in the path, disappears out of sight.
My heart hammers in my chest. I will not lose her, will not. Here, Beauty, come to Daddy. The wind whistles past my ears. I pump my legs, lengthen my strides, turn the corner. There's no one there. Huh?
My heart hammers and the blood pounds at my wrists, my temples; adrenaline thrums in my veins. I slow down, come to a stop. Scan the clearing.
The hairs on my forearms prickle. She's here. Not far, but where? Where is she? I prowl across to the edge of the clearing, under the tree with its spreading branches.
The crack of a branch above shivers across my stretched nerve endings. I swoop forward, hold out my arms, and close my grasp around the trembling, squirming mass of precious humanity. I cradle her close to my chest, heart beating thud-thud-thud, overwhelming any other thought.
Mine. All mine. The hell is wrong with me? She wriggles her little body, and her curves slide across my forearms. My shoulders bunch and my fingers tingle. She kicks out with her legs and arches her back, thrusting her chest up against the fabric of her sports bra. She dared to come out dressed like that? In that scrap of fabric that barely covers her luscious curves?
"Let me go." She whips her head toward me and her hair flows around her shoulders, across her face. She blows it out of the way. "You monster, get away from me."
Anger drums at the backs of my eyes and desire tugs at my nerve endings. The scent of her is sheer torture, something I had dreamed of in the wee hours of twilight when dusk turned into night.
She's not real. She's not the woman I think she is. She is my downfall. My sweet poison. The bitter medicine I must partake of to cure the ills that plague my company,
"Fine." I lower my arms and she tumbles to the grass, hits the ground butt first.
"How dare you." She huffs out a breath, her hair messily arranged across her face.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my fitted pants, knees slightly bent, legs apart. Tip my chin down and watch her as she sprawls at my feet.
"You…dropped me?" She makes a sound deep in her throat.
So damn adorable.
"Your wish is my command." I quirk my lips.
"You don't mean it."
"You're right." I lean my weight forward on the balls of my feet and she flinches.
"What…what do you want?"
"You."
She pales. "You want to…to rob me? I have nothing of consequence,
"Oh, but you do, Beauty."
I lean in and every muscle in her body tenses. Good. She's wary. She should be. She should have been alert enough to have run as soon as she sensed my presence. But she hadn't.
I should spare her because she's the woman from my dreams... but I won't. She's a debt I intend to collect. She owes me, and I've delayed what was meant to happen long enough.
I pull the gun from my holster, point it at her.
Her gaze widens and her breath hitches. I expect her to plead with me for her life, but she doesn't. She stares back at me with her huge dilated pupils. She licks her lips and my breath catches. Che cazzo! Why does her lack of fear turn me on so?
"Your phone," I murmur, "take out your phone."
She draws in a breath, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone.
"Call your sister."
"What?"
"Dial your sister, Beauty. Tell her you are going away on a long trip to Sicily with your new friend."
"What?"
"You heard me." I curl my lips, "Do it, now!'
She blinks, looks like she is about to protest, then her fingers fly over the phone.
Damn, and I had been looking forward to coaxing her into doing my bidding.
She holds her phone to her ear. I can hear the phone ring on the other side, before it goes to voicemail. She glances at me and I jerk my chin. She looks away, takes a deep breath, then speaks in a cheerful voice, "Hi Summer, it's me, Karma. I, ah, have to go away for a bit. This new... ah, friend of mine... He has an extra ticket and he has invited me to Sicily to spend some time with him. I... ah, I don't know when, exactly, I'll be back, but I'll message you and let you know. Take care. Love ya sis, I-"
I snatch the phone from her, disconnect the call, then hold the gun to her temple, "Goodbye, Beauty."