Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)

An impatient noise sounded in her throat. “The man you dropped at the diner the night before last. Do you leave a lot of men unconscious on the floors of public restrooms?”

“It’s been an age.” When Polly sputtered, he laid a finger over her mouth, satisfied when her luscious body stilled against him, softened a few degrees. Yes. She wasn’t immune to him, much as she tried to portray it. It would have been perfect to kiss her then, but if he used her attraction to his advantage before, what came next? It might be the last time she allowed his mouth in the same room with hers, let alone allowed him to gain more access to it. “Did Erin tell you I took the bollocks out of commission or was that a lucky guess?”

“Erin.”

“Damn.” He smiled to hide the stab of disappointment. “And here I thought I’d duped at least one person in Chicago into thinking me more than an unredeemable opportunist.”

Polly peered up at him, as if she could read his thoughts. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think she wanted to tell me.”

Did he care? Discomfort blinked on the horizon, so Austin cleared his throat and moved on. “That man’s name isn’t Slim. I know of him. I also know of the man you tracked to the club last night, and you don’t want to tangle with the likes of them. They’re deadly, Polly. They protect their interests at all costs.”

He watched the half truth sink in with a mixture of dread and resignation. Dread that would multiply if she ever found out the truth about his partnership with Charles. Resignation because he had no choice but to lie by omission. If he had a hope in hell of keeping Polly alive, she needed to trust him, just a speck.

“I…”

She shifted against him, her throat working in a way that told Austin she was suppressing her emotions. Lord, he wished she wouldn’t. Wished she would lay it all on him so he could sort through.

“I don’t like you, Austin, but I didn’t think you ran in the same circle as murderers. I’m kind of disappointed in myself for not assuming.”

He opened his mouth to tell her he’d never murdered a soul, but he stopped before the words could emerge. Polly would see right through him, and he’d lose whatever minuscule ground he’d gained by watching her back. “Listen, Polly. Whatever I’ve done in the past…I only want to help you now.” Good God, he sounded like a man who presented women with stuffed animals and the like. “And obviously, my help is very valuable. You’d do well to accept it.”

The look she blasted him with was pure…seduction? At once, his body went rigid with want, testosterone flooding his bloodstream. Ready to please, ready to get pleased in return. It occurred to him on some distant level that Polly was about to play him—that she’d only been acting wounded over his revelation, pretending to be shocked at his former associations…and he didn’t give a single goddamn. He dampened his lips and brought their hips together. Go on, sweet. Play me, so I can fuck you against the sink.

“Your help is valuable, Austin?”

The husky quality of her voice made him growl. “Yes. My help, among other, more satisfying things. Say the word and you’ll have the benefit of both.”

Polly let her hands roam up his chest, the sides of his neck, and higher, where they tangled in his hair. “That man at the bar…”

“Yes, sweet.”

“Tell me how to kill him.”





Chapter Six


Polly had never said the words out loud before. Tell me how to kill him. And the moment they were out in the open, blinking like a trashy neon sign, she wanted to gobble them back up. That had to be a typical reaction, though. Didn’t it? Revealing your intention to take an eye for an eye to another soul surely created room for doubt. Although she and Austin worked in close quarters, they’d managed to maintain an emotional distance. With the utterance of her dark request, she’d jumped feet first into…more. Infinitely more.

A mixture of impatience and nerves swept Polly head to toe as Austin stared down at her. Even with those sharp eyes scrutinizing her, his face was a blank canvas, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. Would he agree to help or tell her she was crazy? Hell, maybe she was crazy. Maybe the grief of what had happened all those years ago had turned her into the type of woman who casually discussed extinguishing another human being. She didn’t want to be that woman, but the injustice couldn’t stand. Reitman couldn’t just get away with tearing lives apart, tearing down something so good and going on his merry way.

Despite what she’d said to Austin, she was well aware what the Brit was capable of. He wasn’t the only one in the dark bathroom adept at reading people. Finding out he knew Reitman, though. Now that had come as a shock. That connection between Austin and Reitman could provide her with valuable information. Maybe even get her in the same room with Reitman where she could demand recompense for the wrong done to her family.