Perfect Ruin (Unyielding #2)(12)

“Stop pretending to be brave, London. I’m letting you go with a warning when my associates want something very different. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

My blood rushed through my veins as our gazes locked. “So, you can give him more time if you want?”

He didn’t say anything, eyes driving into me. I was trying to be brave. God, I’d never been braver than I was right at that moment, but I was still terrified.

“Don’t hurt my dad. Please. You can have me…” I briefly closed my eyes as I continued, “in any way you want.”

His grip loosened on my wrist, but he didn’t let me go. “I don’t f*ck unwilling women.”

I stiffened. “I’d be willing. I’m willing.”

He moved quick as he grabbed me by the shoulders, spun me around and shoved backwards a few steps until my legs hit the bumper and I fell back so I was lying on the hood of the car. I pushed up on my elbows to get up, but that was as far as I managed before he leaned over me, hands on either side of my head.

“Are you? Because I think you’d say or do anything to protect him. That’s not willing. That’s simply stupid.”

I was stunned by his words because I saw it in his expression—the desire.

My palm stung like hell from the slap and yet I wanted to hurt him again. But I doubted this man could ever be hurt.

“If you give me time, I can get you money instead.” I had a trust fund from my mother, but I’d need a few days to get access to the amount of money he’d want.

“Don’t need money.”

“What do you need then? There has to be something.”

I heard him swear beneath his breath and the frustrating sound didn’t suit him. He shifted his weight to one arm then raised the other so his hand came to my face. I tensed, but didn’t move. He slowly stroked a finger over my parted lips. “Being with me… you don’t know what you’re bargaining.”

I didn’t, but sleeping with this man was a sacrifice I was willing to make. “I’m fully aware of what I’m bargaining.”

He paused, watching me—assessing. “I’ll consider it.”

I breathed frantically in and out as the reality of what I was doing hit me. It was as if I couldn’t find enough air. “And then you won’t hurt him? Even after he gives you what you want?”

“No. I’ll only hurt you, London.” His tone was laced with amusement, as if he was kidding, but there was truth in what he said. Because what I offered would hurt me. But I’d repair. I’d forget. What I’d never forgive would be walking away and doing nothing.

“Can you get off me now?”

He didn’t move.

I collapsed my elbows to lie flat on the hood of the car then placed my palms on his chest and shoved at the same time as I lifted my knee and tried to nail him in the balls. I failed. “I can’t breathe, damn it. Get off.”

“You’ve run from me, slapped me, and just attempted to knee me in the balls. I’ve killed for much less. I’m not a nice man, London. It’s best for you to understand that now.”

I had no doubt that he was ruthless.

“Hurt me then if that’s what you want.”

He laughed and I felt the rumble in his chest against mine. “You’re extraordinary. And no, I don’t ever want to hurt you….” He paused as if he had all the time in the world. “London.”

Again, the way he said my name caused a wave of familiarity to filter through me and it wasn’t fear I felt, but protected. How was that even possible?

My palms pressed into his dress shirt and I felt the hard contours of his muscles beneath the material. But there was far more than his hard muscles under my touch. There were raised lines, like welts or maybe scarring.

“I’ll never lie to you, London. And I don’t want you to fear me.” His grip lessened when I stopped pushing at his chest, but instead of moving his hand away, his thumb casually stroked back and forth over the cleft in my chin.

I didn’t understand him. Why did he care? He spoke as if he knew me and I felt…. Why did I feel like everything he said was true? “Well, you’re doing a piss poor job of convincing me of that.”

He sighed. “Perhaps that is for the best.” He stroked a finger down my cheek.

I closed my eyes, unable to watch the satisfaction in his eyes when I said the words to try to negotiate the deal. “One night and you give him the two months he needs and promise not to hurt him.”

“Hardly seems like a fair deal,” he said.

I looked at him and met his laughing eyes with a glare. “I’m worth it.”

He grinned. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Jesus. What the hell was I thinking? He was toying with me and wasn’t going to accept any deal. “Let me go.” I struggled when he cupped my chin, fingers harsh.

“Shh, I’m merely teasing.” His grip lessened when I stilled, but his brows were drawn low over his eyes, all amusement gone. “One week. And he’ll get his two months.”

“And you won’t hurt him.”

“He won’t be harmed.” He paused, frowning. “But let’s be clear here. This is your choice.”

Oh, God. How could I be with this man when he was threatening my father? Maybe I should’ve let him drive away. How did I even know anything he said was true? I had nothing except his word.