Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)(20)

Polly traced a circle on the floor with the toe of her boot. “The only reason you’ve been following me is to…keep me safe? No other reason?”

His facade shifted, but quickly snapped back into place when he shrugged. “Keep your friends close.”

“And your enemies closer?”

Austin’s response was to sip his tea, narrowing his eyes at her over the rim.

…

Rather unfortunate timing, being interrupted before he could finish himself. Austin swallowed a scalding sip of tea, praying the pain would prevent him from tossing Polly over his shoulder and hauling her into his bedroom. Her upturned nipples were outlined by the thin T-shirt she wore, all but screaming, suck me, Austin. And if she rubbed her damp palms against the outside of her thighs one more time, telling him her hormones were still singing as loudly as his own, he would give in with a heartfelt curse and complete his orgasm while she watched. Right in the kitchen, like a horny choirboy. Honestly, he’d never been hard up for sex in his life, and it was goddamn inconvenient when he needed to keep a sharp mind.

He watched Polly purse her plump lips, blowing on the surface of her tea in slow motion, giving him no choice but to adjust his groin, lest he reveal his desperation. Under no circumstances could he let Polly know how little control he possessed when it came to her. In a million years, he never would have anticipated her considering an exchange of sex for information. A rare miscalculation on his part. He’d managed to tear himself away before making a severe misstep, but if she so much as sighed against his skin just then, he would be on her like an animal.

“Shouldn’t a negotiation take place at a table?”

Austin shrugged. “I’ve never been in one place long enough to procure furniture.”

“Not even a—”

“Bed? Yes.” He held her eyes. “I have one of those.”

She smirked. “I was going to say laundry basket.”

“Sure you were.” Austin clasped his hands around the mug, welcoming the sting of heat. “I’d like to know what you have against the man you intend to ruin.”

A beat of silence passed. “Don’t you know his name?”

“He goes by more than one. I’d hazard a guess he has over thirty identities, and that’s a modest estimation.”

Her gaze dropped from his, perusing the kitchen. “I’m not telling you anything until you explain what exactly we’re negotiating.”

“I want an active role in helping you.” His gut tightened when her attention snapped back to his. “My nature doesn’t allow me to remain in the background, feeding you helpful tidbits and leaving the outcome to chance. Not where you’re concerned.”

“My nature doesn’t allow me to involve someone like you in my private business. This is my show and I don’t need a costar.”

He zeroed in on the most troublesome part of her statement, although he didn’t know why he should be surprised at her disdain. She’d never made a secret of it. Perhaps the fact that he’d had his tongue in her mouth on two separate occasions within twenty-four hours played a part. “Someone like me?”

“Yes.” She crossed the kitchen to look out the window, although the view was only a brick wall. “You’re too much of a variable, Austin. Always working an angle, looking for a way to manipulate a situation to your advantage. Manipulate me. How do I know you won’t decide to join forces with…with this former acquaintance of yours, and play me instead?”

“I never said he was an acquaintance. I said I knew of him.” Her jerky shoulder roll told him she’d been trying to catch him in a lie. Good. He would expect nothing less. “I assure you, my assistance will leave no doubt as to where my loyalties lie. If you feel different at any point, you can cut me out.”

“Generous of you,” she murmured, drumming her fingers against the side of her thigh. “You have to know accepting help from you won’t be easy for me.”

“Oh, I’ve thought of that.” He spread his hands. “I think of everything, you see. Give me the barest detail of your vendetta against this man and I’ll share how I plan to reward you for trusting me.”

“Reward me?” She threw one of those amazing laughs at the ceiling. “God, I’m going to regret this, but I’m too curious to pass up that undoubted gem.”

A smile threatened at the corners of his mouth, but he contained it. “I’m waiting.”

Polly paced silently a moment. “The man at the club last night.” She brushed her hair back with a trembling hand. “He took away someone very important to me.”

The onslaught of rage took Austin off guard. He didn’t do rage. His keel stayed even, steady, through good times and shit times. But somehow knowing Polly had been wronged by his ex-partner in a truly despicable way made him want to bury his fists into the Sheetrock walls of his flat. Although he suspected it wouldn’t help a whit. Austin took a long, slow breath through his nose, attempting to find purchase before speaking. “Who did he take away? How?”

She shook her head. “You said the barest detail.”

Austin ground his teeth together. “Fine.” He probably shouldn’t go near her while white-hot ire infused his blood—he’d never experienced the feeling before, but suspected it would make him prone to mistakes. Or revealing too much. Even that hint of her pain, however, had brought vulnerability rising to her surface, and it magnetized him. Made him long to ease whatever jagged edges had been left behind by the evil man he’d spent so many years learning from. See if his own rough edges corresponded with hers. They did. He knew they did. “Would you like to hear about your reward now?”