In His Shadow (Tangled Ivy Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

that my voice was steadier than my shaking limbs. “I saw you kill someone tonight. Then you come into my apartment—into my bedroom—uninvited, and tell me how you’re going to kill me. How was I supposed to react?” I decided not to mention the kiss.
    A small smile played at the edges of Devon’s mouth. “My apologies. Was an invitation forthcoming?”
    “Of course not!” I blurted. “I don’t even know your real name.”
    “So you’d like me if you knew my name?”
    I couldn’t believe my ears. Was he . . . flirting with me?
    “I watched you shoot a man in cold blood,” I said bluntly. “I don’t think ‘like’ is the word I’d use to describe how I feel about you.”
    Devon leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and said, “I’ve been coming to your window for weeks, Ivy. Didn’t you wonder why?”
    Ignoring that uncomfortable question, I responded with a question of my own. “So what’s your real name? Devon or Jared?”
    “Devon,” he replied without hesitation. “Now answer my question.”
    “I thought you must be a glutton for punishment,” I retorted.
    His lips twisted again. I noticed his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, softening the hard planes of his face. Marcia was right. He was . . . divine, and the memory of his kiss made me want to forget everything I saw in that alley. But nothing changed the fact that he’d said the word “kill” in reference to me, which kind of killed the attraction—no pun intended.
    “Who was that man?” I asked. “Why did you kill him?”
    Apparently we were playing a version of quid pro quo because he again answered right away. “You don’t need to know who he was and I didn’t kill him in cold blood. It was an act of self-defense. It was him or me. Though make no mistake, neither of us would win any points for virtue. He wasn’t a good man and neither am I.”
    “He was running away,” I argued. “It didn’t look like you were in any danger.”
    “I didn’t say he would’ve killed me tonight. Consider it an ounce of prevention.”
    Proactive murder. I wondered if a jury would buy that defense. “So why the two names?”
    “My job occasionally requires a level of anonymity,” he said. “My turn. You were afraid of me before tonight, before you saw me in that alley, before I came in here and sent you into a blind panic. Why?”
    I hesitated. “Because I know men like you,” I said quietly. “I know the type. You can hurt people, and I bet you don’t mind doing it.” More than a little bitterness edged my words.
    It didn’t surprise me in the least when no denials sprang from his lips. Instead, he said, “That’s very . . . astute of you, Ivy.”
    “Stop saying my name.”
    “Why?”
    “Because we’re not friends.”
    “But perhaps I’d like us to be,” he said. “Friends. It’s a great deal better than the alternative.”
    The way he said “friends” made it clear he meant a whole lot more than that. And just in case I didn’t catch his drift, his eyes took a leisurely trip down my body. I clutched my towel a little closer, cursing my long legs that left the terry cloth much too high on my thighs to be called modest.
    “Are you threatening me?” I forced the words out.
    Devon sat back in the chair. His hands went to his tie, leisurely undoing the knot and pulling the fabric from around his neck. The soft slide of the silk made my heart beat faster, and it wasn’t from fear. I couldn’t move as I watched his fingers deftly undo the top two buttons of his shirt, exposing the skin of his throat.
    “I don’t threaten,” he said, making my gaze jerk back up to his. “I state the facts. You are now a liability, rather than a pleasant diversion. I’m willing to overlook the former, if you agree to the latter.”
    I couldn’t believe my ears. Was he coercing me into having sex with him? “And if I don’t?” I asked, not at all sure I wanted to hear the answer.
    Devon stood and this time