BOX SET
8 books. 2300+ pages of fairy tale romance, with twists and turns and magical foes.
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by Excite Steam
by Excite Steam
by Excite Steam
by Excite Steam
When a hitman falls for a young witness, his entire life changes. Can he find a way to keep his curvy girl and keep her safe, or will loving him paint a target on her back?
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“I’m not going to hurt you, little one,” he murmurs.
“You just killed a man.”
His jaw hardens. So do his eyes. “No. I killed a piece of shit parading as a man,” he says. Despite the lethality in his expression, his voice is soft. Is he trying to soothe me? How strange. “Jack Stinson didn’t deserve to live.”
He’s not wrong about that. Still….
“Am I your prisoner now?”
This startles him.
“You think I’m going to keep you against your will?”
I shrug, not sure what I think. “Isn’t there a rule against people like you leaving witnesses alive?” I’d much rather be his prisoner than be dead. At least as a prisoner, there’s a chance of escape. Dead is dead no matter how you slice it.
I’m not afraid of this man though. It’s bizarre, but I’ve felt completely safe with him almost since I set eyes on him. He’s a fascinating combination of light and dark, and I find myself…drawn to him. My therapist told me once that people who survive a crisis together tend to forge bonds with one another because they share an experience few others understand. I don’t think this is that though. I don’t think it’s Stockholm Syndrome either. Being around him just feels…right, as insane as that sounds.
“I’m not going to hurt you, little one,” he says again. “You’re safe with me. And you aren’t a prisoner either. I simply didn’t know where to take you after you fainted, so I brought you here.”
“Oh,” I whisper, my cheeks heating at the reminder that I fainted…and in embarrassment for accusing him of kidnapping me. He may be a killer, but he’s been nothing but nice to me. I push myself into a sitting position. “Where exactly is here?”
“A safehouse.”
“Oh.” That tells me absolutely nothing. His safehouse could be in Bora Bora for all I know.
“We’re still in the city, Savannah,” he says, his lips twitching.
Am I that easy to read?
I narrow my eyes on him. “You know my name.”
“I do.”
“Will you tell me yours?”
“People call me Ghost.”
“Ghost,” I repeat and then smile. “You don’t seem very specter-like to me.”
“That’s because you aren’t most people.” His eyes run over me, searching for something. I’m not sure what, exactly. He seems frustrated when he doesn’t find whatever it is. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen. Do you kill people often?”
“As often as it needs doing.”
“For money?”
“Among other things,” he says.
I process that for a moment and then sigh. “Okay.”
“Okay?” That brow arches upward again.
“Would you prefer I faint again?” I ask, which makes his lip twitch as if he wants to laugh again. I’m making a hitman laugh. A ridiculously hot hitman. Awesome.
Why am I not freaking out right now?
“Kieran.”
“Kieran?”
“You call me Kieran, not Ghost.”
“Oh.” Wow. I think he just told me his real name. I’m guessing that’s not something he does very often. He wouldn’t make a very good hitman if he did, would he? “How did you know about Jack?”
“My boss gave me the intel.”
“You have a boss?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Hitmanning is way more organized than I expected.”
“Hitmanning?” His lips twitch again.
“You know what I mean,” I say, waving a hand in the air. “I’m not exactly familiar with the lingo here. Until tonight, I thought hitmen existed only in action movies and the CIA.” I press my hands to my cheeks as if that’s going to cool me down or halt the endless circles in my mind. “You don’t work for the CIA, do you?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“You’re handling this well,” he observes, searching my face again.
“I passed out.”
“You didn’t scream.”
“You told me not to scream.”
“Do you always do what you’re told?”
“You had a gun.” I never do what I’m told, especially if Saint or Sawyer is the one trying to boss me around. I’m not telling him that though. “Following your orders seemed like the safest thing to do.”
“You’re not like most girls, are you?”
“Am so,” I lie.
He notices. I get a genuine smile this time. It doesn’t look natural on him, but it softens him a little, makes him seem less like a mythical warrior and more human. My stomach flutters as butterflies kick into flight. I shiver even though I’m not cold. He’s warming me up in places he shouldn’t again.
by Excite Steam
by Excite Steam