Rix shook his head slowly. “You’re as rare as a Picasso at a fucking flea market, to put it in terms you understand. And when a man comes across something that rare, he ain’t just gonna let it go without seeing what could come of it.”
His words floored me. I’d never felt rare or precious or anything else like that. But still, was I going to let him dictate to me? Knowing that Rix was fascinated with me, my boldness grew. Instinctively, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, so I gave my tongue free rein.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve got no choice but to let it go if I say so.”
His scowl darkened. “I don’t take orders. I give them, duchess.”
“Maybe in your world, but right now you’re standing in mine.” My gaze sharpened on him with that thought. He must have come here for a reason. “Why are you here? What’s the update?”
His eyes stayed firmly fixed on mine. “The update is there’s no change, but I did talk to her.”
He talked to Trinity? And he’s just now telling me?
“Don’t you think you should have led with that? What did she say? Did she say she was scared? Hurt? Hungry? What?”
“Calm down, woman, and I’ll tell you.”
My hands trembled, and I barely restrained myself from grabbing his arm and shaking him. “Consider me as calm as I’m going to get.” If he didn’t spill what he knew right now, I was going to lose my grip on my emotions.
Rix nodded and pushed off the glass, and as he talked, he paced out of the bathroom into the bedroom. I followed, not willing to miss a single word.
“She’s fine. Yeah, she’s scared, but I told her not to be.”
“I need to talk to her. Need to hear that from her myself. She has to be terrified.”
“She ain’t hurt or hungry. She’s eating Cheetos and watching Netflix, and now that she knows someone’s coming for her, she said she can hold it together.”
I threaded my shaking hands together as I sat on the bed, bowing my head. Trinity was tough, but she shouldn’t have to be. She should never know anything like this could happen. She should be sitting at home eating Cheetos and watching Netflix.
Gathering together the threads of my self-possession, I looked up at Rix. “Swear to me, on whatever you find holy, that she’s okay.” My voice was low, my words barely audible.
“I swear to you, she’s fine.” Rix’s tone matched mine in seriousness.
“Thank God,” I whispered.
Rix spun and stalked toward me. “It ain’t God you should be thanking, duchess. I’m the one making this happen. And I don’t use this much effort for anyone without a damn good reason.”
Anger overwhelmed the fear that had gripped me. “She got into this because of one of your people!”
He stopped in front of me. “She made her own choice to get involved with him.”
“That’s bull. Besides, you have to get her back to cover your own ass.”
“I don’t have to do shit.” Rix’s chin lifted with the proclamation.
“So you’re saying that I’m the only reason you’re bothering to get her back?” I demanded.
He crouched down, a hand on the quilt on either side of my hips. “Glad you’re finally catching on.”
I didn’t like that explanation. I wanted Rix invested on every level. Glancing up at him, I met his gaze. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything except you’re not gonna let that cop put his lips on you again.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Palm shooting out, I slapped against his shoulder, and surprisingly, he stood and stepped back.
Rix crossed his arms. “You want your girl back? You do what I want.”
My glare should have shriveled vital parts of his anatomy. “So it’s going to be like that, then? You already gave me your word that you’d get her home safe. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
His eyebrows drew together. “You don’t question a man’s word, duchess. That’s dangerous territory.”
“But you said—”
“You goin’ out with the cop again, or not?”
I thought of Hennessy’s promise to stop by the gallery and set up a date. Honesty won out. “Probably.”
The muscle in Rix’s jaw tightened and he dropped his arms, taking one step forward and leaning down. “Don’t.” The word came out on a growl, and yet I still felt no fear.
“I—” Whatever I was going to say died when Rix’s head dipped toward me.
“I’m taking my shot, not asking for it,” he murmured before his lips took mine. There was no warm-up, no coaxing. Just . . . conquering.
I went with it, opening my mouth to his tongue and letting him in. My hands had their own agenda, gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer, wanting more. How long had it been since I’d felt that wanting? That absolute need to feel someone’s skin on mine?
Rix’s fingers buried in my hair, tilting my head one way and then the other, changing angles, going deeper. I wanted more, needed more.
But he pulled back.
“Gotta stop or I won’t. Got shit to do. I need to go.” He pushed away from the wall and headed for the door.
“You have shit to do? You have to go? That’s how you’re going to leave it?” I asked, my tone incredulous.