Seducing the Mercenary. Loreth White Anne
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stumbled out of bed and headed toward the door, belting the silk robe she’d found behind the bathroom door tightly around her waist as she went. She pulled on the brass handle, and it gave—the door had been unlocked from the outside. She drew it open cautiously, shoving her tangle of hair back from her face as she did.
Muscled pecs under a snug-fitting crisp T-shirt greeted her at eye level. She stared numbly, her brain trying to kick back into gear. She lifted her eyes slowly and met his clear, penetrating gaze. Her stomach somersaulted, and she grounded herself by reaching for the door handle, his eyes instantly tracking her movement. Did this guy not miss a damned thing?
“Good morning,” Laroque said in his exotic African-French accent, a smile reaching right into his luminous green eyes, making them sparkle with unspeakable mischief.
The effect rocketed through Emily like dynamite. And damned if her cheeks didn’t flush. She reached up to smooth down her hair.
“You slept well?”
“I…yes. Thank you.” It sounded trite. She’d been abducted and locked in a turret, for goodness’ sake. “I was tired. I was dragged here at 2:00 a.m.,” she added defensively. “What…time is it, anyway?”
He held up her passport. “Time to leave Ubasi.”
She stared at her passport in his hand, her ticket to freedom.
She reached up to take it from him, but as she tugged at the passport, he held tighter, his fingers connecting with hers, the sensation electric. Emily’s breath caught and her eyes whipped to his face.
“I have a proposition,” he said. “Take the passport, and leave Ubasi before noon. Or—” He paused, watching her way too intently for comfort. “I keep the passport, and you stay and interview me. Your choice. My terms.”
Her heart was now racing so fast she could barely breathe. “Your…terms?” Her voice came out thick.
“Stay in my palace, under my constant guard. If we do venture beyond the fortress, you do not leave my side. Understand? Not for one instant. No exceptions. It’s for your own protection, of course.”
Emily appeared to be incapable of disconnecting from his touch, of letting go of her passport, her ticket to freedom. Her mind reeled. She should leave, for her own good. Perhaps she wasn’t yet mentally ready to handle this man and the strange seductive power he had over her.
Then she recalled the mission, why she needed to succeed. She thought of New York, of her ex, of the utter humiliation and pain that awaited her.
She’d be Laroque’s voluntary captive. She’d have exclusive access to Le Diable in his inner sanctum, an extremely rare opportunity to watch one of her Alpha Dog subjects at work. She’d have access to information that could help the FDS.
This was an opportunity that might never present itself again.
This was what she wanted—wasn’t it?
A dark, sensual excitement tangled with rising adrenaline as conflict raged through Emily. He was making it her decision. He was making her a partner in her own captivity. It was a power play.
Laroque could destroy her if she stayed. He would kill her if he found out who she was working for.
This is life and death, Emily. This is the real thing. Wake up, here, think straight.
Logic screamed at her to leave, screamed that she was basing decisions on flawed reasoning, on personal issues, not professional ones. Logic told her that at some level she was dangerously attracted to this subject, and it reminded her of all the trouble she’d ever gotten herself into when she’d tangled emotionally with A-types. And those men in her past didn’t even begin to hold a candle to the kind of power and sexual charisma Laroque possessed.
Neither were they killers.
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