Audition - Skye Warren, Amelia Wilde Page 0,9

with him in New Orleans. I accepted because I have nowhere else to go. At the time I had no idea that I’d be approached by some special department to gather intel for them. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out Caleb’s into some bad shit.

“Right,” she says, unconvinced. “So you’re standing in the one warehouse that doesn’t contain anything illegal because…?”

“Total coincidence. I was looking for the illegal stuff.” Which means I have no business staying to chat with this woman, no matter how compelling she looks with that notch between her eyebrows. She looks goddamn fierce. “Honestly.”

A roll of her eyes. “Tell my brother he doesn’t need to waste time and energy watching me. I’m staying out of trouble.”

Her brother. Jesus. If she’s Caleb Lewis’s sister, then she’s not staying in trouble. It won’t be a clean shot that brings him down. It’ll be a grenade launcher that hits him—metaphorically speaking. Or literally speaking. Everyone in his vicinity will end up in jail or dead. That’s inevitable.

And she’s right here.

Don’t fucking feel bad for her. For all I know she knows all about her brother’s misdeeds. She might even participate in them. She could be his right-hand man.

I don’t want to feel bad for her, but I can’t control the heavy beat of my heart. She shouldn’t be in this dump. She shouldn’t be left unguarded. I know better than to let a pretty face or a tight ass make me vulnerable, but I can’t help thinking she wouldn’t do that. As if her dancing has shown me a window to her soul. You’re a dumb motherfucker, North.

“You’ll have to tell him yourself,” I say, taking a large step forward. Circling her. Forcing her to turn to face me. “I’m not working for him. I’m here on leave. He invited me to come drink and fuck around for a couple weeks.”

Her dark eyes shutter. “You’re in the army with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Say no to whatever he offers you.”

What exactly will he offer me?

Some kind of job, that much I know. Something illegal.

I’m tempted to grab the next flight out of Louisiana right now. I don’t want to become a snitch, not really, but I have no loyalty to Caleb. The fact that this girl wants to protect me, that she wants to warn me, when she doesn’t even know me, turns my stomach to stone. Her feline grace makes me hard. The faint scent of lavender makes me hard. In other words I’m two seconds away from pushing her down into the dirt and fucking her. I could make her like it. Judging from the way her breasts rise and fall in rapid rhythm, she already does.

“What do you think he’s going to offer me?”

“Nothing good.”

“No? I thought you might want a partner for your lovely ballet studio.” I peer into the dusty corners. A few broken shipping pallets. Some flattened boxes. Quite a few scurrying shadows. The richest man in fifty square miles, and his sister practices ballet in a goddamn hovel. How many AK-47s did he have to sell to afford this prime piece of real estate? The least he could do is spring for some air-conditioning.

“Where I practice is none of your business.”

“And the business of anyone who walks in here.”

“I thought you worked for Caleb.” She makes a face. “I’m still not sure you don’t.”

“A bit of hired muscle, that’s what you thought. A bouncer at his nightclub of ammunition and white powder. I don’t think he’d like to hire me. I don’t take orders very well. Besides, if I got my paycheck from Caleb Lewis, I wouldn’t be able to do this to his sister.” It’s meant to be a threat. To make her flinch. She’ll put her fists up. She’ll fight me. I loom over her, threatening. If I’m half the thug she thinks I am, she should be wary. In fact I’m worse. Instead her head tilts up. Her dark eyes dare me. I’ve never turned down a fucking dare.

I have a million graphic images of her in my head. The ways I’ll bend that flexible body. The hard fuck I’d give her up against the burning hot wall of the tin box we’re in. It’s coarse and disrespectful. There isn’t a sweet bone in my fucking body, but somehow my lips meet hers. It’s a kiss, more innocent than anything I’ve ever done before—more terrifying, too. She’s warm beneath my lips. Pliant. I brush against her slightly, savoring the tremor in her