Mine To Protect (Mine #6)(56)

“I’m sorry that I had to be the one to tell you the truth about Victor Monroe.” Now Tom sounded sympathetic. Was she supposed to buy that bull? He wasn’t sympathetic. He was like Luther—psychopathic.

“You have to be more careful who you trust,” Tom added.

She had to be more careful? Her vision seemed to go red as she stalked toward him. Fury drove her. A fury that left her ice cold.

His smile widened as she approached. The fool looked so confident and smug. Time to change that. Time to change everything.

“Victor doesn’t matter.” She could lie easily. After all, she was her father’s daughter. Zoe smiled at Tom. “Not at all.” Her right hand slid toward the top of her dress. The neckline dipped, exposing the upper curves of her breasts. Tom’s gaze followed the movement of her hands and his breath hitched faster.

Men. So disgustingly predictable sometimes.

She leaned closer to him. Her fingers skimmed inside the vee of her dress, reaching just under the bra that she wore and—

In a flash, she’d pulled out the small knife that Victor had given to her. Her first present from him. A very handy gift. She shoved that knife right up against Tom’s throat. He instantly went still.

“I am so sick and tired of being used,” she whispered to him.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I-I can understand that.”

Her eyes turned to slits as she stared up at him. “Michelle Lane.”

“I don’t—”

She let the blade cut his skin. A fat drop of blood trickled down his neck. She wanted to show the guy she meant business.

But…

He laughed. “You aren’t going to kill me. We both know that. You may be Luther’s daughter, but you don’t have his…instincts, shall we say?”

Why did people always underestimate her? “Don’t be too sure of that. Right now, it’s taking every bit of self-control I have not to slit your throat from ear to ear.”

His laughter stopped. Maybe he believed her. Maybe he didn’t. If he pushed her more, they’d both find out whether or not she was bluffing. “You went to see Roy at the station. How did you become his lawyer?”

“We have an…acquaintance in common.”

“Michelle?”

He didn’t speak.

So the knife cut deeper.

“You have her,” Zoe said. “You’re the one in charge here. The one using this big ass fancy office.”

“I have come up in the world since we last met,” he allowed.

“Is she alive?” Zoe had to know.

“Move the knife, and I’ll tell you.”

“Is she alive? Dammit, it’s just us in here! Why keep lying to me? Why keep—”

“She’s alive,” Tom said. His face changed. Went cold. Sinister. “And she’ll stay that way, as long as you keep cooperating with me.”

Ice spread from her belly to her lungs…to her heart.

“If you want Michelle Lane back, well, you have to work a deal with me.”

Disgusted, her lips curled at him. “Why is everyone all about deals these days?”

His hand flew up and closed around her wrist. She tensed, locking down to make sure he couldn’t jerk her hand—and her knife—away from his throat.

“What can I say?” Tom murmured. “I guess folks like a good deal.”

Bastard.

“You’re the only one who can do this particular job. Do it…and all the hits on you will vanish. The slate will be clean. Michelle will be released, and you won’t have to look over your shoulder any longer, always worried about the next attack.”

He was so wrong. “There is no way for me to escape.”

“I’ve been working both sides.” His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist. A sensual movement. She had a knife to his throat and the * was acting as if they were about to make out.

In his freaking dreams.

“You suspected that, though, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Tom murmured. “I saw the suspicion in your eyes when you saw me walk into this room.”

“My father treated you like shit years ago. I didn’t buy that you were suddenly jumping to do his bidding again.”

“No.” Again, he stroked her wrist, right over her racing pulse. “But he doesn’t understand how I feel about him. He thinks I’ll keep doing his dirty work forever, but times have changed. While he’s been locked up, I’ve had access to his contacts. I used them. I created my own empire.”

“And you’re the new power in Vegas.”

He inclined his head toward her, not seeming to care that when he moved, the knife cut even deeper into him.

“I’ll be even more powerful once you do one simple task for me.”

She was staring at a monster. “You’re the one who put the two million dollars on my head.”

He shrugged.

“You did it.”

“Guilty.”

Her fingers trembled with the effort of holding back. Cut his throat. Cut it. Maybe she was more like Luther than she’d realized.

“I didn’t think you’d actually die, you know.” Now Tom sounded offended. “It was only two million, after all. The heavy hitters don’t really get involved in business like this—you know, with a guy like Luther Bates hanging in the background, poised for epic retaliation—unless it’s at least four million.”