Chapter 7 Lips #2
“You followed me,” I whisper, guessing. When he nods, I stifle my moan. “You went through my computer. You read my journal. You know things about me that no one else—” My voice cracks, and I hate myself for it. “You knew what I was thinking.”
“Yes,” he says immediately. “Just like I know what you’re thinking now. And it’s okay, Starling. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I spent a year taking down your targets so that you’d have the best Christmas ever. I won’t harm you. I will always protect you.”
Protect me?
Protect me?
I shake my head, fingers curled into fists on my lap. “None of this is about protection. I’m sorry, Patrick… but this is obsession.”
Patrick’s gaze softens. And yet, he doesn’t look any less crazy to me as he tells me, “Those are not opposites, Noelle.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” I repeat.
“I already did,” he replies, the same way as before. “The moment I realized no one else was going to keep you safe.”
“By killing people?”
“By removing threats to you.”
I wish I could believe that. And I know that, despite two years of therapy, I’m still as broken as I once was because I’m not really all that pissed that he killed for me.
Like I thought before, I’m torn between being flattered and revolted by his obvious obsession with me, and the fact that flattered is gaining an edge…
yup. I’m messed up, and if Patrick knows everything about me, he knows that, too.
So, really, he should expect it when my emotions switch again.
Instead of fear, I’m angry. “You didn’t do this for justice,” I say.
“You did it because you saw a broken woman at the coffee shop, and you thought you could fix her by killing the men who made her like this in the first place. But I’ve learned a lot over the last two years.
Men don’t do anything for free. You want something from me, don’t you? ”
His eyes darken, possessive and unflinching and hungry. “I told you we needed to talk. And you’re right. I am a hired killer, Noelle. I don’t accept contracts for free.”
“I never hired you—”
“You did,” he argues. “When you made your wish list in front of me. You caught the attention of a killer, and the only way out is to finish the contract.”
A transaction, I think. I understand those. Way too much for a woman my age, I understand it when a man wants something in return. And, well, it’s not like I can refuse—
I swallow the sudden lump lodged in my throat. “And if I don’t, you’ll… you’ll kill me?”
His eyes flash angrily. “Never. But, I promise you, you’ll like me a lot better when we don’t have this debt between us. I ended five lives for you. If you give me five things in return, I’ll consider it repaid.”
Five things… “And then you’ll let me go?”
“With the snow out there and another storm incoming, neither one of us is leaving this chalet until after Christmas,” is Patrick’s answer.
He’s not wrong, but… “Five things. Okay.” I shudder out a breath. “It can’t hurt to ask what they are, right?”
“I won’t ask for much, sweetheart.” Patrick lifts his hand, ticking off his words with his fingers. “Lips. Mouth. Body. Obedience.”
That’s only four, though I hardly notice. Nope. I’m too busy checking my uneasy stomach as I realize that Patrick North is just like every other fucking man I’ve had the misfortune to meet.
“Sex,” I mutter. “Why does it always come down to sex?”
“Those are my terms. And since I’ve already held up my end of the agreement, I think I’ll just keep you here until your debt is repaid.”
Trying not to let the sudden flare of panic show, I scoff. “How are you going to do that?”
“Sweet Starling. You’ll understand before long that I have my ways. Besides, you have this chalet for the next week. That means that I have you for the next week.”
Unless I escape first.
Unless I get away from this gorgeous nutjob before I have to give him anything in exchange for my former colleague’s lives.
I can’t leave the chalet. He’s made sure of it, and now that he’s also made it pretty clear that he’s decided I am his property, he’ll just chase after me.
But there’s a bedroom upstairs with a lock on the door, and as I start to back up before turning away, I decide it’s time for a strategic retreat before I get in even more over my head.
“Hold on one moment, Noelle.” Though I know I shouldn’t, I glance over at him anyway. He holds out his hand to me. “I think I’ll take my first payment now before you run and hide.”
Lips.
I dart out my tongue, dabbing nervously at the corner of my mouth. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he says, once again proving he’s inside my fucking head. “Give me a kiss, and that’s one poinsettia leaf down.”
A kiss? That’s all?
Now, I’d be lying if I hadn’t fantasized about his lips while we were talking earlier. But that was before I discovered he was my stalker, my avenging guardian angel, a murderer. It would be so damn wrong to still be attracted to a contract killer, and yet…
“One kiss?”
“That’s all.”
I can handle that… I think. Still, I can’t just fall into his arms.
I cross my arms over my chest. “You know… if you want a kiss, you could just… take it.”
Patrick’s jaw tightens. “That’s not how this is going to work between us,” he says in a low voice. “And you know it.”
“Why?” I demand. “Why a kiss?”
“Because it’s the smallest thing you can give me that still means something. It’s a beginning.”
Shit. I look at his mouth before I mean to. It’s a mistake—one I immediately regret—because I see the renewed restraint there. The decision not to move first. The strength it’s taking for him to stay put, allowing me to go to him.
Because he knows my history. He knows my past. He’ll demand, but he won’t take—and that’s what gives me the push to walk over to him and take his damn hand.
“Fine,” I mutter under my breath. “Let’s get it over with.”
My free hand comes up on its own, curling into the fabric of his cable-knit sweater. I tilt my face up and press my mouth to his.
I mean for it to be a quick kiss, just enough to satisfy my stalker’s crazed demands.
His lips are warm and firm beneath mine.
They’re also unmoving at first, but then he responds, just enough to make the contact real.
He doesn’t deepen the kiss. Doesn’t shove his tongue down my throat.
He just lets me take the lead as though determined to prove that I’m kissing him.
When I finally pull back, my heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
Letting go of my hand, Patrick touches his bottom lip with his thumb. “Fuck, you taste even better than I thought.”
So did he, but I absolutely refuse to admit that out loud. “I did what you wanted. Now I’m going upstairs and, in case you’re wondering, I’m locking my door.”
Probably moving the dresser in front of the door since he’s already proved he has no qualms sneaking into my room to steal my shit, but he doesn’t need to know that part.
Patrick doesn’t say anything to that. At least, not until I’m halfway to the stairs, leaving him behind in the living room.
“Enjoy sleeping in bed alone, Noelle,” he calls after me. “I assure you, it’s the last time you ever will.”