Burning Love

I sat on the bed in our hotel suite not sure if I wanted to cry or jump off the terrace. Surely my choices had to be better than this. Sam Collins, the man I swore was my Mr. Right, turned out to be an assassin for hire. He sat on a leather chair, facing me, waiting for my decision.

“Let me get this straight.” I said, pretending not to understand, stalling for time. “You’ll let me live if I marry you?”

His eyes hid behind dark shades. An obvious ploy so I couldn’t read his face. Nevertheless, his grin reminded me of a cat just before it swallowed a canary.
“Can you at least tell me why those people had to die?”

I had caught him in a nearby suite as he stood over the body of an elder statesman. To my right I had spotted a woman’s corpse sprawled on beige sheets. A blotch of blood surrounded her torso. Under normal circumstances I suppose screaming was in order, but the shock left me numb. My lover practically carried me back to our suite.

“Candy, the less you know the better.” He sounded calm. I never once picked up a fast heartbeat when he had lifted me in his arms and my breast rested against his chest.

“I need air.” I stood up, but pretended to lose my balance. He lunged and held me in his arms. I wondered if he knew I was stalling.

He slipped his sunglasses off. His face was dry. His gaze made me feel safe. He brushed my hair aside and whispered, “Marry me and you won’t regret it.”

His warm breath brushed against my neck as he leaned closer, nudging his nose on my cheek. I told myself to focus. This was insane. My prince turned into a black Knight. “Sam, do you only kill for money?”

“A man has to live.” He planted kisses along the left side of my neck, to the center of my throat, and up my chin until his lips reached mine.

I pulled back. Images from my childhood brought tears to my eyes. I sighed, “Before I answer your proposal, there’s something you should know.”

His face softened. His ability to change his facial expressions distracted me for a moment. I marveled at how fast he went from ruthless killer, to serious businessman, to lusting lover, to caring soul. I cleared my throat and said, “My uncle Fabian molested me when I was eleven.”

Something sparkled in his gray eyes. His glare increased in intensity. I expected for him to interrupt me, or show sympathy. Instead he waited for me to continue.
Tears escaped my eyes and my heart pounded, “I want my uncle dead.”

Sam pulled me to him until our lips met. I pushed my tongue against his, recognizing that I needed to have him, needed to make love to my Mr. Right. When we stopped kissing, he said, “You need closure. It’s best you kill him yourself.”

I was about to utter my objection, but he threw me on the bed. He pinned my arms with his strong hands and brought his lips close to mine. “As my wife, you’ll have to learn to defend yourself. I’ll teach you.”

We kissed again. As I ripped off his shirt, I said, “Yes! I will marry you.”


- 561 words

TO BE CONTINUED… This scene is dedicated to my friend, Poppet, since I based it on her suggestion. Readers, feel free to suggest the next journey our lovers should take.

©2010 Nomar Knight A Knight Chills exclusive.