Lured (Team Zero #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,30
on me. He’s only in black shorts. His hard chest is relaxed. His long legs stretch in front of him, crossing at the ankles. Tendrils from the tattoo on his side coil to his cut abdomen.
He’s forming a steeple at his chin. Both his elbows rest on the chair’s armrests.
His gaze is calculative which means trouble. He never shows that expression to anyone, and if he does, then it’s for mere seconds before he masks his true self and proceeds to manipulations.
His process is: Calculation. Manipulation. Result.
Most of the time, only the result part is visible to the outside world. He works so damn fast, burning through steps to get what he wants.
But lately, he’s been flashing me the calculation look the entire time. I’m not sure if he’s letting his guard down or if he couldn’t be bothered to mask himself around me.
A stupid place in my heart is hoping for the last.
Another option is: he can’t get past the calculation step when with me. I mentally shake my head to not get my hopes high.
All this could be a part of his plan, so I would let my guard down and he’d devour me.
More than he already is.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask, still clutching the sheet around my chest. If he looks at me with those heated eyes, or worse, touches me, our mouths will be busy doing other things than talk, and I desperately need to talk to him. I’m confused out of my mind and I need to figure out why the hell I’m not stopping whatever relationship we have.
College resumes in a month, and I have to grovel to my parents for running away without their approval.
He doesn’t move, watching me intently as if I were still asleep. Then, his slightly husky voice drifts around me. The cool British accent always had me on my toes. “What were you thinking about?”
He figured I wasn’t asleep. Did he know all the other nights, too?
“Many things.”
“Such as?”
“Such as…” I trail off, not sure if I want to tread in this territory. It’s not like I have anything to lose – except being kicked out of the flat.
Perhaps that’s why my tongue is in knots. My heart plummets to the dark pits of my stomach at the thought.
I don’t want to leave.
“Since when are you afraid of telling me whatever is on your mind, Cam?”
Since he’s using my nickname, it means he wants me close. Fils de pute. I can’t believe I’m mentally recording all these details about him. Might as well write a book about him.
“I’m not afraid. It’s…”
“Why are you trailing off?” He drops the steeple, his thick brows furrowing. “You don’t do hesitation. What happened, baby girl?”
“You happened, Dom. You’re not easy to figure out in case you haven’t noticed.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to have a problem when you were figuring me all out in that coffee shop.”
“I wasn’t figuring you out. I was only watching.” I release a humourless laugh. “Even when I came closer, reading you is still hard as hell.”
He pauses, and if I weren’t imagining things, his shoulders tense. “Do you regret it?”
I smile genuinely this time and point at the tattoo across his side. “No regrets.”
I still think Dominic is my greatest adventure. It’s a story I would tell my grandchildren. ‘Listen, kids. Your grandmother ran away to England and threw herself in the embrace of a sociopath. She had so much fun with him that she ignored his nature and only focused on the good bits. Perhaps your granny at the time was so wrapped up around his finger that she didn’t realise she was being played.’
Way to tell the most disturbing story to non-existent grandchildren.
“I can safely say it would take me years on end to actually figure you out.”
His lips twitch in a little smile. “Good.”
“Why is it good?”
“I like being your subject test. You have as many years as you wish to dig your curious nose in me.”
I don’t have years. A month is all I get.
A stupid, suicidal part, that won’t be able to live long enough to see her grandchildren, wants to stay. I can study him. Maybe even –
No. I shut the thought as fast as it came. Once I go that route – the settling down and normal life that Dom doesn’t even believe in – I’ll be the sorest loser in this game.
Not sure when I started to consider it a game. Perhaps since that day