“And Tony wanted her back.”

“He was not about to give her up after all he did to get to that point, especially to that guy. But Tony never saw me coming.”

“They never see you coming, do they?”

“I’m not the kind of guy who likes to be seen.”

“And Sasha? How does she fit?”

James looks away quickly, then recovers. It’s fast, but I catch it. Nick and I used to play a game when we were kids. Who could tell a lie better. Who could spot a lie better. I was always a better spotter than liar. And that momentary glance away was the tell-tale sign of a lie.

“Sasha is… collateral damage. Left over from a job Merc did last Christmas. Merc is responsible for her because he got her father killed in an off-the-books job, but somehow Ford claimed the Smurf and decided Merc owed him a favor for f**king up her life. He and Merc go way back, so…” James throws up his hands. “Merc took that debt seriously and called in a debt I owed him.”

“So Merc cashed in his debt to Ford by having you kill Tony. Because you owed Merc. And debts are… meaningful?”

He nods and it rings true. And yet it’s not the whole story. But I’m not very interested in Sasha now. I’m interested in us.

James walks over to me and takes my hand. “Harper, listen to me. OK?” I nod and then he’s pushing me to sit on the bed. “None of that matters right now. It’s f**ked up, I get it. I killed my brother. But he had a hit on his head. He was a dead man whether I did it or not. No amount of running or new identities would ever erase that. And Amber, she wasn’t a girlfriend. I did care about her. But I left her behind years ago. Years, you understand? I had a bodyguard put in charge of her, they fell in love, I guess. She married that guy. OK? She wasn’t a girlfriend. Ever. Yeah, I loved her in some way, but it wasn’t the way you think. I liked the idea of keeping her out of my dirty life. I just wanted to keep her safe. And I did. She moved on, got her own life. But then it all fell apart and that letter, you need to understand, that letter was regret for my failure to keep her safe and nothing else.”

I don’t know. Some of what he’s saying makes sense. “But why did you hate me so bad? What did I ever do to you? I was just a kid.”

He pushes me back on the bed and my stomach does little flips inside. But at the same time, I don’t want sex to be the reason I let this go. I need more. I put my hand on his chest to ward him off, but he grabs my wrist and hikes it over my head, pressing it into the mattress. “Now listen, Harper. Hold still and listen.”

His eyes plead with me and I nod. He swallows hard and then scoots up next to me on the bed so we’re lying together. He places his fingertip on my forehead and then lightly drags it down the bridge of my nose and pauses on my lips.

My mouth opens of its own accord and I nip at it playfully.

“I never hated you, Lionfish. I loved you the very first moment I set eyes on you when you were six.”

“You did?”

He nods. “I did. But loving a six-year-old is wrong. You have to understand that. It’s so dirty, there’s no way I could deal with the powerful draw you had on me. And that was before you were promised. The Admiral paraded you out on the beach that day for me. You were in that little ruffled bathing suit that made you look like a Swan Lake ballerina. You were the cutest f**king thing I’d ever laid eyes on. Perfect. And innocent. And sweet.”

I smile at that characterization of me. I’d forgotten about that ridiculous bathing suit. I threw a tantrum to get it in some hotel gift shop the day before. And normally a tantrum is the last way to get my father’s attention. But he gave in.

Did he give in on purpose? To parade me? That makes my stomach sick.

“I wanted you to be my age so bad that day.” We both laugh a little at that. “You have no idea how hard it was to listen to your father talk about you and have to turn down his offer.” He stops to cup my face and plant a soft kiss on my lips. “You will never understand how much it hurt to say no. I wanted you. But it was wrong, Harper. Accepting a child bride as payment and promise for a job was wrong.”

I sigh a little. I can certainly see that. And before I knew he was my promise, I was repulsed by the thought of belonging to someone in that way. I felt sold. But with James, it’s… different.

“I want you now, Harper,” he says, like he’s reading my thoughts. “I have you now. And I know you want me too. But if I’m wrong, here’s your opportunity to say no.”

I can’t move. This feels permanent. Like this yes or no answer will decide my fate.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” James says.

And then his bare chest is brushing up against my body and his mouth takes what he came for.

Me.

His tongue twists inside my mouth as he lifts up my shirt, gently at first, but then he loses patience and lifts me up off the bed and drags it over my head in one swift move. Before I can even appreciate the coolness next to my bare skin his hands are on the button of my shorts. Then the zipper.

“Take them off,” he commands softly.

I wiggle them down my hips, over my knees, and then fling them away with my foot, my eyes never leaving his.

He grins and everything I saw under the pier that day, back before I knew for sure that he was a killer, all those thoughts flood my mind. How beautiful he is. How he holds my attention with his gaze. How he makes me throb with want and longing. My hand goes to the bulge in his jeans. He’s so hard against my hand, the throbbing between my legs becomes an uncontrollable ache, letting me know that I am very close even though we haven’t even started yet.

“Harper,” he says, bringing my attention away from my pulsing need and back to him.

“Yes?” I answer back in a whisper.

He smiles and lies down next to me as he lets out a breath that sounds a lot like a sigh. I feel him relax and then he takes my hand and laces our fingers together. “I’d like a do-over.”

“What?” I laugh a little. And in that instant, that laugh changes everything. I put aside my tally and the Admiral, and the loss and sadness I’ve been feeling since my brother split us apart last summer. The sensual mood breaks with the laugh as well. But in its place comes something else. In its place comes…

“A do-over,” he says again. His fingertips find my belly button and the light touch traces little concentric circles around it. And then he releases my hand, flips on his side—propping himself up on his elbow—and extends his hand again. “I’m James Fenici, nice to finally meet you.”