Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)(49)

“What makes—”

“That wasn’t a question, Dick. I know you’ve been embezzling, though you did quite well in hiding it, but you took too much for it to go unnoticed.”

Robert swallowed, his cards forgotten. “I can pay it back. Right now, I’ll pay back every dime.”

“Edward told you to pay it back months ago, and yet here we sit.”

“I-I didn’t have it then,” he said with an almost involuntary shake of his head. “I have it now.”

Kit tapped his card with a finger. “You sure about that?”

Robert may have nodded, but the uncertainty on his face showed. “Flush,” he said displaying his cards.

Kit made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. “Four of a kind.”

Kit barely had his cards on the table before Robert was bursting from his seat and dashing for the door. He had a few seconds head start, but it didn’t matter—he couldn’t outrun a bullet.

In one fluid move, before Luna was sure he could even get an accurate aim, Kit had his gun brandished and pointed at Robert a second before pulling the trigger, the silencer attached to the end muffling the sound.

His hand had barely touched the knob before there was a hole in the back of his head and he was face down on the floor.

In the blink of an eye, it was over.

Luna didn’t even flinch.





Chapter Thirteen





Luna’s feet ached by the time they were arriving back at the penthouse, to the point that she had kicked off her heels in the elevator and carried them as she stepped off.

As Kit ventured off in the direction of the kitchen, she entered the bedroom, leaving her shoes by the foot of the bed as she climbed onto it, letting out a sigh as she stretched out.

The heels were nice—beautiful to look at, but they were an absolute pain.

They were momentarily forgotten when Kit popped his head in. “What time is it?”

Though she found the question odd—he usually wore a watch on his right wrist—she still glanced over to the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. “Half past twelve.”

It was the slight grin on her face that should have told her he was up to something, but she wasn’t thinking about that once he came fully into the room because her gaze snared on what he held.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do this,” she whispered, though secretly pleased as she felt a tightening in her chest that only he could cause.

There hadn’t been any time, or at least she hadn’t thought there was considering all he had to do to prepare for this night, but as he came toward her with a glass plate in his hands and a rather large square of chocolate cake resting in the center of it, he obviously had found the time.

A lone candle flickered and danced as he walked, the flame casting a mute glow over his face.

“Come now, when was the last time you were able to celebrate a birthday properly. You deserve this.”

What could she say to that, that wouldn’t turn her into a blubbering mess?

“Make a wish,” he said, setting it onto her lap, drawing back to gaze at her face.

She didn’t have to think about what she wanted—she had it.

It wasn’t the freedom that Uilleam had provided her, it was Kit.

If she could pick one thing to wish for, she would always pick Kit.

But she could wish that she could keep him always, so with that thought in mind, she smiled before blowing out the candle.

“Thank you,” she whispered, the gratitude she felt bleeding into each word.

“It’s the least I can do,” he returned with a smile, plucking the plate from her hands as he picked up the lone fork on the plate.

But he had been thinking of her, even in the middle of his work. She had only told him the day before about her birthday.

She loved him for it.

Loved …

Even as the word filtered through her head, she tried to dismiss it as quickly as it formed.

She couldn’t possibly love him, but there was no other word she could think of that adequately described what she felt.

“Thank you,” she said again.

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t tried it.”

He speared a bit of cake, holding it out for her with an unreadable expression, but it quickly changed when she leaned in and opened her mouth, closing her lips around it.

His eyes were rapt on her, pupils dilating once she pulled away, chewing slowly. If she was asked, she wouldn’t be able to say what that cake tasted like, though she could appreciate the burst of chocolate on her tongue.

For someone that showed very little emotion, she could see exactly what he was thinking now.

She was baiting him.

It was curiosity, maybe, that made her want to know what he would do once she pushed him beyond that careful control he was known for.

“Good?” he asked, a hint of strain in his tone.

“The best.”

And as his gaze followed her tongue as she swept the last bite of chocolate icing off her lip, he’d had enough.

As he set the plate down with little care, Luna froze in anticipation, shivering once she felt the heat of Kit’s hands as he undid the zipper of her dress, sliding it down as far as it could go, but he didn’t brush the sides open as she thought he would. Instead, he took a step back.