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“I don’t think I like you very much,” she said, sighing and reaching up, gathering her hair in her hand.

Distracted, he watched as she twisted it around and around, piling it in a loose knot on the crown of her head. “Yeah, you do.” She seemed to like him, though. A lot.  Which was actually something of a surprise. A lot of people wouldn’t mind at all if he disappeared from the face of the earth.

“Arrogant bastard,” she muttered, a faint, reluctant smile curling her lips. She held the mass of hair with one hand and reached into a pocket with the other. A few seconds later, she had a couple of neat little sticks jammed into the ebony locks, holding the knot in place. Slanting a look at him, she said, “You ought to know that I’m tempted to tell you no, just for the hell of it, just to see what you’d do, just to give you grief.”

Hearing the unsaid but, he cocked a brow and waited. And thought about going over there, pulling those sticks out of her hair, just to see it all come tumbling down around her shoulders. Damn, that hair. He loved it.

“But . . . I get the feeling you’re serious about letting me have Pulaski. And I think we could do this better together. So, fine. We’ll do it together.” She sauntered toward him, her lush mouth an unsmiling line, her eyes glinting with an unholy line. “But I’m warning you, Hunter . . . screw me over and I will make you bleed.”

Two seconds later, he felt a prick. And he realized she was better than he thought. She’d distracted him, all right, using that lovely body and that gorgeous hair. She’d palmed a knife again, and this time he hadn’t noticed. Shit, she was dangerous.

And not just because she currently had that thin sliver of a blade pressed against his cock, either. Crooking a grin at her, he drawled, “Oh, come on, sweetheart. You really want to make me bleed there?”

“Right now, I want you to bleed in so many ways and in so many places, I can’t even begin to list them.” She stepped back and then he watched as she took the blade and sheathed it.

Narrowing his eyes, he studied the sheath—it was one of her fucking hair things. Sticking a knife in her hair was just plain stupid, but that little blade was sheathed. And nobody would think to look for it there, either. With a sly smile, she stuck it into her hair knot and grabbed her bag. “Come on, Hunter. Let’s get this done.”

“I’ve got a name,” he said mildly.

“Yeah. A weird one.”

Releasing tomorrow…you can make me really happy if you order it.  Since it’s the last one, I’d like to send it off with a smile.

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