Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)(43)

God, even his voice was enough to conjure an image of their time spent together, back when he had his hand around her throat and whispered dirty promises in her ear… Thankfully, he wasn’t freaking out physically the way she was on the inside.

“What are you doing here, Niklaus?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I came looking for you?”

He sounded thoughtful as he asked, the emotion reflected in his eyes, but despite that, she didn’t believe that for a second. Not at all. Shaking her head, she asked again, “Why are you really here?”

He scanned her face for some time before a small smile bloomed, one that made her chest tighten. “It’s good to see you.”

Despite the way those words made her feel, Reagan refused to let them soften her towards him. She couldn’t. Not after what he’d done.

Shaking her head, she came around the bar, refusing to meet his gaze as she didn’t stop until she had a hand on his chest, ready to push him out the way he came if necessary. But at the moment of contact, his hand came up to cover hers, forcing her hand to remain in place even as she loved to pull away. Even through the fabric of his shirt, he burned hot, his warmth seeping into her skin, the strong beat of his heart echoing against her hand.

He was there. In that moment.

“You can’t be here,” she said on a whisper, forcing the words out though she wanted only to hold them in.

Niklaus’ other hand came up, his fingers drifting along the side of her face, along her jawline before he tucked them beneath her chin, forcing her eyes up and on him.

Up close, she got a better look at him. She almost wished the years had been unkind to him, maybe then she could have been unaffected. But if anything, they had only made him better.

His hair was a touch shorter, proudly displaying the lines tattooed on the side of his neck, along with the angry looking brand that was on his nape. He’d always been careful to keep them concealed from her, and had seemed a little reluctant to share what they had meant, but now he was proudly displaying them.

What had changed?

And it didn’t look like he had lost an ounce of muscle that she could feel the beneath the layers of clothes he wore.

No, Niklaus was just as physically attractive as he had always been, and here she was, looking just as disheveled as she had the first day they had met.

Fate was f*cking cruel.

But none of the really mattered anymore. Maybe it would have months ago, before Rourke, before Liam, but now? It didn’t.

“You don’t want me?”

Maybe if the question had been asked with some feeling, she might have told him the truth—the truth couldn’t hurt after all—but the way he’d asked as though the answer didn’t matter at all. She wouldn’t bring herself to be used by him, not again.

“No.”

Only when that single word was left between them did he finally relent, releasing his hold and taking a step back, but not far enough away that she didn’t still feel overwhelmed by him.

“I’ll see you around, Reagan.”

Before she could curb the impulse, she said, “You can’t?”

A single brow shot up. “Says who?”

“Says me. You left. You can’t just walk back into my life out of nowhere and expect me to welcome you with open arms, like the last time we were together didn’t happen.” She pressed her lips together, wishing she hadn’t added that last little tidbit, but pressing on, she pretended like she hadn’t. “And nothing you say in the next five seconds is going to change my mind.”

Now, he was amused, that blank expression drifting away. “No? I’m around though, so I’ve got time.”

“But this time I don’t want you around.”

This time, he didn’t let the bar remain between them, coming around it instead so that he was now in her space, filling her senses with everything that was him. She couldn’t help but breathe in the warm, heady aroma that was Niklaus.

Why did it have to be him? There’d been other guys that were interested over the years, but none had made her ache the way Niklaus did. None of them ever made her feel like she was more than what she was the way he did.

He’d ruined her.

“I’m not going to leave again.”

Forcing her eyes up on him, she shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not like you would tell me if you were.”

He didn’t respond, just stood there for a moment until he reached for her hand, bringing it up to his lips. He didn’t kiss her knuckles as she’d anticipated, but turned her palm over and pressed his lips to her inner wrist, the heat of his mouth making her heart kick up.

God, would there ever be a time when she didn’t want him?

With a careless wink, he dropped her hand and drifted back out the door, disappearing into the night as quickly as he had come.

Only when he was gone did she feel like she could breathe again.

Niklaus was back in town.

Shit.





Chapter Eighteen





It was true then.

Niklaus wasn’t sure why he still lingered outside the pub, leaning against the lamppost, turning a cigarette over between his fingers. He had yet to light it, his attention solely focused on the girl he left behind—how long had it been since he had last seen her? She had changed since then.