Her Vengeful Embrace Read online

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  This close, she caught the scent of beer on his skin from the one she’d doused him with. Beneath it, the faint spicy cologne he’d worn since they were barely more than children. She cleared her throat, hating that she gave him even that much response. “You know what.”

  Tristan looked down at her for a long moment, the tension spinning out between them as their exhales mingled. She held her breath out of spite, and his answering grin told her that he knew exactly why she’d done it.

  “So. Not just hate.” Tristan shifted closer yet before she could ask him what the hell he was talking about. He still managed to hold himself back from actually touching her. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  “No, you aren’t.”

  He planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head and leaned down to speak in her ear. “Every time the ice cracks, I see you, Te. That wall is fucking impressive, but we both know what lies beneath. You want this as much as I do.”

  She was very, very afraid he was right.

  That’s why Amarante, the woman who had never met a situation she couldn’t scheme her way out of, panicked. She sucker punched him, sinking every bit of momentum she could into the hit. Tristan’s breath left him in a rush, but he didn’t go down. Of course he didn’t go down. The man was a modern gladiator, a machine whose sole purpose was death. Her namesake. She couldn’t think about that right now, just like she couldn’t think about exactly how much she wanted him to follow through on his stated intentions.

  No, she had to get out of this room and she had to get out now. Tomorrow she would see her father for the first time since she was seven years old, and she needed her head on straight. She could not make mistakes. Except she couldn’t keep from doing exactly that. She bolted for the door like a lamb fleeing the slaughter.

  Of course Tristan caught her. If she was thinking clearly, she never would have presented him with her back. He snagged her around the waist, but she was already turning, striking out blindly, two decades of training taking over her body even as her mind turned into a staticky buzz. She elbowed him in the stomach and stomped her stiletto heel into the top of his foot. Tristan cursed, but didn’t release her. “Stop being an idiot.”

  Amarante didn’t lose her temper.

  She couldn’t afford to. She was too deadly and there were too many people depending on her to keep them safe. Her siblings, yes, but every employee at the Island of Ys came there with the assurance that she would ensure they remained safe for the duration of their time on the island. She fought and planned and killed to create the only place in this world that was safe for her and the others. Letting something as mundane as anger derail that was unacceptable.

  Tristan’s words snapped a leash she thought cast in stone. Literal red washed over her vision and she reached back and grabbed his balls. His curse cut off when she squeezed. The fabric of the slacks kept her from digging her nails in, but she would without hesitation. Any advantage was fair game, no matter how cruel and underhanded. “Let. Me. Go.”

  He dropped his hands immediately. But the second she went to move away, he tackled her to the floor. “That was a shitty move.” The bastard barely sounded out of breath.

  She twisted and fought and clawed, but he used his superior weight to keep her pinned beneath him, to maneuver her body until his whole weight pressed between her thighs. She couldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction, and the friction from it had her senses shorting out in confusion. Amarante went slack, panting like an animal in a trap. “I should have ripped them off.”

  “Aw, Te, you say the sweetest things.” He’d recovered fast. He snagged her wrists when she went for his eyes and pinned them on either side of her head. Tristan grinned, his white teeth flashing in the dimness of the room. “If you ripped off my balls, you wouldn’t be able to play with them later.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You’re out of your fucking mind. The only way I’d touch you is with a knife in my hand.”

  If anything, his grin widened. “Like I said; the sweetest things.”

  She tried to slide out from beneath him, but he had her too effectively pinned. Amarante glared up at Tristan, trying and failing not to notice how hard his cock had become. The confused zinging in her body only intensified. “We’re enemies.”

  “Yep.” It didn’t sound like it bothered him in the least, but then the truth of the world had never gotten in the way of Tristan going after what he wanted. Why should that change now? He didn’t move, didn’t do anything but hold her down and suffocate her with his overwhelming presence. She could taste him on the back of her tongue, and even though Amarante knew it was only a trick of the mind, she couldn’t help licking her lips.

  When was the last time she’d had someone affect her on this level?

  Even Cora, her friend and lover over the years, came with a certain set of expectations. Their respective responsibilities meant that they could never let each other too close, and she’d made her peace with that a long time ago. Her life required sacrifices and she’d never made qualms about that. Let others have their regrets and their desire for happiness. Safety and revenge were the only two gods she worshipped, and when forced to choose between them, she would always choose the latter. It was the entire reason she was in the Warren in the first place.

  Her body wasn’t listening, though. The sheer weight of Tristan, of his presence, uncoiled something dark and dangerous in her. Something she couldn’t afford to let loose. “Tristan, please.” She didn’t know what she was asking for. To be let up. For more. Something else entirely.

  He gave her no quarter. “Please what?”

  She hated him in that moment. Not a new feeling, not when he was one of the few people she’d let close enough to hurt her who actually hurt her. But this was new and hot and twisted up in desire and betrayal and need. “Kiss me or get the hell off me.”

  For a breadth of a heartbeat, he didn’t move and she thought for sure he would twist this around on her as well. Laugh that he’d managed to ruffle Death herself. Maybe finish the attack with a dose of humiliation. Something.

  Then his mouth crashed down on hers and Amarante stopped thinking entirely. He tried to take her mouth, but she was too busy taking his right back. She was not the conquered in this scenario, and the sooner he realized it, the better.

  Tristan laughed against her lips. “Difficult.”

  “Arrogant.”

  He kissed her again and thrust his hips against hers, dragging his cock along her center in a slow glide. It was so good. Too good. He released her wrists and ran his hands down her body, wedging them beneath her ass to lift her hips and give him a better angle. The next thrust ground directly against her clit. If she let him keep going, she might actually come from something as mundane as dry humping on the floor. And she didn’t care.

  What the hell was wrong with her? She pulled away from his kiss. “Tristan, wait.”

  “I missed you, Te.” He pushed her jacket off her shoulders and cupped one breast. Was it her imagination or did his breath catch a little as he teased her nipple to a point through her shirt? It must be. Surely it was all in her head. If Tristan was that affected by simply touching her, he never would have done what he did. She had to get up, had to stop this right now before she gave away every advantage she desperately needed. Tristan was the enemy now, even if once upon a time, he’d been a friend. She couldn’t trust him, could all but be assured that anything that happened between her and him would be reported directly back to the man he answered to.

  The man she came here to kill.

  The thought was a bucket of cold water dousing her desire. She shoved at his shoulders. “Get off me, Tristan. Right fucking now.”

  He hesitated and for a moment she despaired—hoped—he’d ignore her. But he moved back quickly, obviously expecting her to kick him in the balls. “You want this.”

  No point in lying when she’d been gr
inding on him like the horny teenagers they once were. “My body wants this.” Amarante rose to her feet and smoothed down her clothing. “My brain knows better.”

  He gave her a cocky grin that she wanted to slap right off his face. “Give your brain a rest, Te. It’s got to be tired after all that scheming.”

  “You wouldn’t know. Your master says jump and you ask how high.”

  The amusement drained from his face, leaving the same version of Tristan who’d told her that if she made him choose between her and Zhao, he’d go with Zhao. The memory still hurt, even though she’d revisited it enough that time should have dulled its edges. She embraced the pain. This was what she needed, the reminder of how little she could trust him. She didn’t usually need to learn the same lesson twice, but there was a first time for everything.

  He walked to the spot where he’d dropped his shirt and scooped it up, though he made no move to cover his chest. “This summit isn’t going to go the way you want it to.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt.” The way she wanted it to go was for her to successfully cut the head off the operation that stole children and stuffed them into places where their abusers paid top dollar for the privilege. Until they dealt with her father, the man responsible, they could spend the rest of their lives killing his subordinates without making a single damn difference. The only option was to go straight to the top.

  His expression didn’t flicker. For someone who called her an ice queen, he certainly had his emotions locked down when he wasn’t playing the part of the charming rogue. “He only wants to talk, Te.”

  Sheer rage stole her breath. It took several long moments for her to wrestle herself back under control. “You don’t get to tell me what he wants. If this is all part of his plan to set me off balance—”

  “It’s not.”

  She gave him the incredulous look that statement deserved. “This was a mistake. We’re finished.”

  “I thought we were.” His expression went contemplative. “But I guess I was wrong. That changes things.”

  His stubbornness made her want to throw things. Tristan had never troubled himself with things like right or wrong; there was only what he wanted and what he didn’t. Amarante didn’t hold that against him, not when she had a similar line to determine her values. No, what she held against him was his willingness to try to force her hand.

  “It changes nothing.” She moved to the door, but couldn’t stop herself from saying, “He put my brother and me in that place, Tristan. We would have died there and he wouldn’t have blinked. He’s done worse to others over the years, and you work for him.” She walked out the door before he could say something else to dig his way under her skin.

  Too late for that. Much too late. Tristan Merrick had been under her skin from the day they met. The only thing that mattered now was ensuring that truth didn’t divert her from her plans.

  Kill her father.

  Save her family.

  That was the only thing that mattered.

  Chapter 4

  Tristan waited several long minutes after Amarante walked out of the room to do the same. He didn’t usually waste time with regrets, but he’d fucked up this interaction. There was no other way to look at it. Oh, Zhao would pat him on the back for disrupting the enemy before negotiations, but that hadn’t been a strategy he intentionally deployed. Not with Amarante.

  He wasn’t even remotely surprised to find Nic waiting for him in the hallway. “Don’t you have bigger shit to worry about than babysitting me?”

  Nic pushed off the wall and fell into step next to him. “I have half a dozen things demanding my attention right now, yes, but you’re the only idiot who seems intent on breaking my rules.”

  Couldn’t argue that, but the best policy was to refuse to admit anything. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

  Nic snorted. “Do you really think there’s a single room in this place that isn’t wired with half a dozen cameras and microphones?”

  “Nothing happened.” Nothing he’d wanted to, anyways. He and Amarante had been on a collision course since the moment things went to shit ten years ago. It was just a matter of where and when. They were too well matched to move through the world without finding each other again. In all that time, he’d thought they were destined for confrontation. He’d never dared hope that she’d still want him.

  And she did want him. She might hate it, but that kiss told him everything he needed to know.

  “Tristan.” The tone of his friend’s voice slowed him down. Nic slid his hands into his pockets, green eyes serious. “If you can’t keep your shit together, you’re out until this is over. I don’t give a fuck that you’re Zhao’s man or a friend. If you step out of line, I’ll have to make an example of you.” He wouldn’t enjoy it, but he’d do it all the same. Nic took his responsibilities as head of the Warren deadly seriously.

  Tristan respected that. He did. He’d just never been one for following the rules. “It was just a bit of foreplay.”

  Nic’s brows rose. “She was two seconds from ripping your balls off. Literally.”

  “Like I said—foreplay.”

  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”

  Tristan waved that away. “Talk to her. If she isn’t on the same page, you can string me up for everyone to see.” She was on the same page. Amarante was his equal in every way. They just never fought before. Not like this. When they were younger, it was so fucking easy to just be with her. Tristan didn’t have friends. Oh, he had Nic. They were two sides to the same coin, and they understood each other perfectly. That kind of thing didn’t happen often, especially not in the world they moved in. But aside from that, he preferred to keep the human filth he interacted with at a distance.

  When he knew Amarante before, there was none of that bullshit. They shared a perfect understanding that he hadn’t realized was rare until he lost it. He couldn’t repair her trust. He wouldn’t waste his time in trying. But Amarante was too practical to let something as mundane as trust get in the way of what she wanted.

  She wanted him. She didn’t want to want him, but the attraction between them was even stronger than it had been before.

  “Tristan.”

  He realized Nic had stopped walking and he’d kept moving. A lapse Tristan knew better than to make. Friend or no, Nic would stab him in the back if it meant preserving the sanctity of his precious Warren. “Talk to her if you need to. She’ll confirm it.”

  “Tristan.”

  He cursed and turned around to find Nic watching him closely. “What?”

  “She’s the one?”

  Tristan wasn’t the type to delve into syrupy emotions and pour his heart out, but one night he and Nic had drank themselves stupid and one confession led to another. It was the reason he knew Nic’s parents were a mechanic and a kindergarten teacher who lived in a little town in Ohio. Tristan had never told his friend her name, but he’d talked about the girl who turned into something more than friends before it all burned down around them. A lie danced on the tip of his tongue, a change of subject to prevent anyone from getting too close to this truth. But this was Nic. They might end up as enemies before the end of this, but at least they were fucking honest with each other. “She’s the one.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  Nic ran a hand through his short dark hair. “This is going to blow up in everyone’s faces. You want to chase her down, you do it after the summit.”

  Tristan wasn’t so sure there would actually be an after the summit. He didn’t know Zhao’s plans. The man was hardly transparent under normal circumstances, but for the last few months, he’d been a vault. He gave orders, and he didn’t tolerate anyone questioning him. It all centered around his growing obsession with the Horsemen of the Island of Ys, two of which were his children.

  That Tristan hadn’t expected. He still didn’t know how to wrap his head around the fact that Zhao allowed two of his children to
exist in that fucking camp of his. He didn’t understand, but he wasn’t paid to understand, he was paid to follow orders. No one asked him what he thought of this clusterfuck, but why would they?

  “Cards to your chest, Nic.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re unsanctioned? Jesus fuck, Tristan, are you out of your mind? Bad enough when I thought it was a ploy to undermine her before tomorrow. The old man doesn’t know what you’re up to?”

  He’d already said too much. “Cards to your chest,” he repeated.

  “No shit, cards to my chest.” Nic took a breath and his expression smoothed out. “Go back to your room. I don’t want to see you again until the first meeting tomorrow, and I sure as hell better not see you without your escort again.”

  As if that would stop him.

  He knew better than to say as much aloud, though. Friends or not, Nic wouldn’t let a little thing like their history get in the way of doing his job. If he thought for a second that Tristan would endanger the summit, he’d kick his ass to the curb. Tristan might be able to get past all the security in the Warren with a year of planning and a team of four with a particular blend of skills, but by then it would be too late and whatever was going to happen with Zhao and Amarante would have already gone down.

  No, he needed to be here. He couldn’t let his personal bullshit distract him.

  He gave Nic a charming smile. “I’ll be a good boy.”

  “You’re a goddamn liar.” They stopped in front of the elevator and Nic stabbed the button. “Directly to your room. I don’t have any patience left tonight.”

  He couldn’t give his word that he’d behave for the duration of the summit. He already knew he wouldn’t. But he could give Nic tonight. “I promise.”

  “You are a pain in my ass, you know that?”

  “Indubitably.”

  “Asshole,” Nic muttered. He waited for Tristan to step into the elevator and press his hand to the scanner. “Enjoy your beauty rest.”