Alex frowned. “What is it you think I’m thinking?”

“That you don’t really want to marry me. I think that’s your dad’s big plan, but you’re not so wild about it.” I shrugged. “I mean, I’m a bitch. This has been thoroughly established. What kind of man wants to marry a raging bitch?”

“The kind who wants to be Alpha.” Alex plodded toward the dresser and half sat on it, staring at his hands like they held some answer his brain did not.

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think that job’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Not the way your dad does it,” he said, and the sneer was back, along with those cold, hard eyes. “But the benefits package sounds pretty damn good.” His suggestive leer was unpracticed at best, and I couldn’t resist another eye roll.

“Why is it that every conversation I have with a tomcat winds up being about sex?” I tried to scoot back on the bed and almost fell over without my hands for balance. “And seriously, if that’s all you’re looking to get out of this, I gotta tell you, there are easier ways to get laid. You should just tell your dad to go to hell. If there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of, it’s that you don’t have to live your life to please your parents. Or anyone else. It’s your life.” For however long it lasts.

“So, what, are we bonding now?” Alex crossed his arms over his chest, still leaning against the dresser, and in the mirror, I could see the gun tucked into the back of his waistband.

“Hell, no.” I scowled. “You’re still the bad guy and I still want to spill your blood all over this crappy carpet.” Being young and naive didn’t absolve him of past crimes. I hadn’t forgotten that in addition to killing his own brother, Alex was the one who’d told Dean to cut me. “But we’d be a lot closer to neutral tolerance if you’d take these damn cuffs off. My hands are seriously messed up from lack of circulation.”

Alex hesitated, glancing at the door as if his father could see him through the hollow wood panel. “You promise not to try anything?”

I arched both brows at him. “You know I can’t do that. We’ve kind of got a mortal-enemy thing going on here.” I shrugged and tried on a cocky grin of my own. “But I promise not to try anything right now, and if I make a break for it later, you can totally try to stop me.”

To my surprise, Alex chuckled. “I’m gonna hold you to that.” He pushed away from the dresser and crossed the room to sit on the bed behind me, digging in his pocket for the handcuff key. “FYI, I have one hand on my gun.”

I rolled my eyes on the inside, but I could play my part. I could play him. “That’s what all the boys say.”

He laughed again, and his hand brushed one of my wrists. It might also have touched my palm, but I couldn’t feel anything below the cuffs. A moment later, something metallic clicked, and my left hand was free. I tried to flex my fingers again, but they wouldn’t move, and when I held my hand up, it had a definite blue tint to it.

“Your hands are freezing,” Alex said, while I waited for the next click. “Dean’s an abusive bastard.”

“You’re preachin’ to the choir on that one,” I said, but still there was no second click. Instead, my right hand was tugged to the side and I felt warm, damp breath against my neck and something solid against my back.

“This isn’t so bad…” Alex whispered, and I froze. “You’re not always a bitch. You’re kind of funny when you wanna be.”

“Yeah. I’m a funny bitch.” My pulse raced and my face flushed. The bastard was hitting on me! While I was still half-cuffed! Who’s manipulating whom here? Juvenile little prick! “Can you open the other cuff now?”

Alex leaned back slowly, tugging on my right arm again while I opened and closed my left fist in my lap. In my current state, I couldn’t even throw a decent punch.

“I’m not like Dean, you know,” he whispered, and my skin crawled.

Finally the last cuff clicked open, and I started to pull my hand into my lap, but Alex stopped me with one hand around my biceps. “I’m serious.” He leaned close again, and his breath on my neck raised chill bumps all over my skin. Not the good kind. The creeped-out kind. “We’re gonna be stuck together, but we could make the best of this.”

I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to control my temper and think logically. He still had a gun and he was behind me, where I wouldn’t see him draw it. “No, Alex. That’s not going to happen.” I was almost proud of how calm I sounded, even if my voice was bordering on a growl.

“Oh, it’s gonna happen, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. You’re hot, and I’m not exactly a dog. We could both do worse.”

What was he, drunk? Delusional, more likely. “You’re a murderer.” My pitch dropped steadily until my voice was too deep to pass for a human woman’s. “You’re your father’s lapdog, and a repugnant little bastard.” I twisted to face him then, relieved only in retrospect to see that he hadn’t pulled the gun, because I was too pissed to have stopped, even if he had. “And I’ll tell you something else—I’m already tired of you assholes waving guns at me, so either get your fucking hands off me or shoot me. Those are your options. And if we fight, only one of us is going to walk away so you’d better shoot to kill. How do you think your daddy’s going to like that?”