Argent barely stopped himself from bending her over and taking her against the edge of the pool. He was hard as a diamond.
Turning her, he subdued her easily, shackling one arm around her middle, chaining her arms to her sides. This time, instead of wrapping his arm around her neck, he clamped his hand over her mouth.
He could drown her. It would only be fair. For, though he had her in his clutches, he was the one being pulled under. Her skin, made slippery by water and soap, created a delicious friction even through the layers of his wet clothing.
Her bare bottom rubbed against the hard sex straining behind his wet trousers, letting it rest in the cleft between the two supple curves.
They froze. Both unsure of what he would do next.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Through her panic, Millie recognized the solid body pressed against her naked back. She’d been in quite this same position before.
Except then she hadn’t been aware of the true danger. This was no obsessed admirer. His hold was firm but painless. The hand cupped over her mouth bowed as though to spare her lips the pain of being ground against her teeth.
Though the sex pressed against her posterior caused tremors of terror violent enough to ripple the water.
“I made a promise to Mr. McGivney that I wouldn’t make you scream,” he rumbled against her ear. His breath was hot against the wet, sensitive skin of her neck, but his tone was flat and cold as the Thames. “If you make a liar out of me, you’ll regret it. Do we have an understanding?”
Millie swallowed a sob of terror, seeking composure. Panic served no purpose. She had to keep her wits about her.
She nodded and he released her mouth. When she licked her lips, she instantly regretted it. They tasted of salt and flesh that was not her own. A flavor she did not find repugnant.
And damned if it didn’t make her nipples tighten.
“What do you want with me? What have you done to Mr. McGivney?” she whispered, disgusted with her body’s reaction to his nearness.
Then another thought lanced through her, followed by a flash of hot rage. “If you’ve hurt Jakub, I’m going to—”
“I have not gone near your son, but he is in danger.”
Millie’s gasp brought her breasts closer to the arm encircling her waist like a steel vise. “Is that a threat?” she hissed.
“It’s a fact.”
Her throat clogged with alarm. “Don’t do this,” she rasped. Her fear evaporated, changing into equal parts determination and desperation. Her survival meant nothing in the face of Jakub’s safety. “I’ll do anything you want.”
He was quiet a long time, and still as the dead, but for the steady pulse of his manhood against the cleft of her ass.
“Anything?” he finally breathed against her ear.
The full weight of her offer hit her between the eyes with enough force to make her knees weak. “Who are you?” she demanded with a bravado she didn’t come close to feeling. “I know the name Bentley Drummle was a cover.”
“We all have our characters we play,” he said cryptically, his hand falling to her shoulder and pressing her closer against him. “But be assured, your son was never in danger from me. I don’t kill children. My name is Christopher Argent. I have been employed by the solicitor Gerald Dashforth to assassinate you.”
Millie could scarcely believe it. He sounded like a gentleman making introductions in the parlor. He may as well have said, “Hello, I’m Lord So-and-So, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Are you a murderer or a mercenary?” she asked, calling upon all her skills to keep her voice modulated, so as not to excite him to violence.
“Both. Either.”
All right. That revealed nothing. “You say this man, this Gerald Dashforth, he’s paying you to kill me?”
“Yes.”
Cold. His voice was so cold she shivered.
“I’m a woman of means, Mr. Argent. I can pay you double the price of the contract for my life.” There, that didn’t sound so desperate. She could be like him. Businesslike, terse, logical.
“That would be … unprecedented.” He paused. “It couldn’t be known that I would turn coat for a rate increase. Then every one of my marks would barter for their lives thusly. They’d have seen my face. They’d know who I work for. It’s an excellent way to get caught.”
As hope died, fury took its place. For a reason beyond her, his tone, more than the words, sent her temper rushing to her head with such force her ears burned and her mouth opened. If he was going to kill her, he’d get a piece of her mind first. “You. Are. Insane,” she gritted through her clenched jaw.
He paused again, and she had the distinct feeling she’d bemused him. “What?”
“You heard me.” Heedless of her nudity, she began to squirm in that limp, boneless way Jakub had done as a toddler when he’d wanted to escape her clutches. “Lying your way into my after party, using that ridiculous Dickensian name. Risking your life to sneak into my apartments in the middle of the freezing night. To what purpose? To toy with me, terrorize me? To kiss me? And then here you are again, in the middle of the blasted city, broad daylight even, in my bath with your bloody shirt and trousers still on, telling me you don’t kill children. That you don’t break a contract for the sake of your—industry reputation. I tell you, you’re mad. A lunatic.”
“You would rather I were naked?”