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“Leave me alone.”

“First time was in the desert.” He tapped the spot where I had shot him and I flinched against my will. “You told me that day not to push you but I did it anyway.”

“That’s right,” I did my best to sound threatening, but it sounded more like a question. “And I found you hiding out in Shanghai after you stole from me. That’s twice you’ve lost when I told you not to mess with me. Don’t push your luck.”

He strolled around the bed, giving the slowest chase I had ever been trapped in. The space between the wall and bed were narrow, leaving no chance for me to rush around him so I wasn’t boxed in.

“D-don’t come any closer!” I fumbled for a weapon, decided on a painted bronze lamp with years of wear around the base. My body jerked awkwardly as I tried to heave the thing off the table, realizing with horror it was bolted down. The table stumbled from my effort and my reflex was to try and catch it instead of flee, which was my fatal mistake. Yulong was on me, and I swung my fist in a last ditch effort to escape.

My wrist was caught and pinned to the wall beside my head, a thigh pressed between my legs to keep my from my next move of kicking as hard as I could. My brain scrambled with terrified spikes of cold dread and irresponsible tingles of heat at the feeling of someone’s leg between mine. Yulong loomed over me, the pressure against my wrist firm but not painful, like he was toying with his food before consumption.

The effort of my heart trying to hammer its way free made my breathing strained, adrenaline rushing over me in a panic while my hormones flooded other bits I didn’t need in that exact moment. Yulong’s gray eyes were bluer at that proximity, the dark circle encasing the color would have been gorgeous if I wasn’t about to get my ass kicked.

“And the third time you surprised me…” he started in a low rumble, the tone doing horrible things to my sense of self preservation. “Was how you looked at me when you invited me inside for cocktails.”

The pupils in his shale eyes flexed, widening as they skipped over my face and landed on my mouth. I felt the muscles in my jaw clench, my molars tightening in defiance. Somehow through the noise of the open balcony, the distant horns and engines mixed with bird songs, I could hear his calm, steady breathing. Heavy, silk strands of black hair spilled around his face, the scent of warm, deep wood incense drifting from him like smoke.

“I-I have connections.” I swallowed to try and ease the scratch in my voice. “Hurting me will make them come after you.”

“What makes you think I want to hurt you?”

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