Lured (Team Zero #1) by Rina Kent

Just thinking about the amount of hell he endured as a kid causes my heart to strain against my ribcage. Maman and Papa are my world. I might need my rebel phase, but I can’t imagine a life without them.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Dom.”

He throws me an irritated look. “Why are you saying sorry? The parents who abandoned me are the only ones who should apologise.”

“Would you accept it?”

“I would tell them to go fuck themselves.”

“Figured.”

He cocks his head to the side. “If you’re figuring me all out, it’s going to be a problem.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you wouldn’t be curious about me anymore.”

This time, I can’t resist it and jump straight to his lap. The sheet falls on each side of me so my bare chest is glued to his. He releases a surprised sound, but his hands wrap around my back. My own arms surround his neck and my legs tuck on his lap. I nuzzle my nose against his collarbone, then look up at him and whisper, “I will always be curious about you.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I kind of like you. Like maybe a little bit.”

A playful gleam coats his features. “Let me see what I can do to make that a lot.”

“Are you trying to make me fall in love with you or something?” I tease.

“You should.” He teases back. “I recommend it.”

My fingers thread in his thick strands. “Try persuading me, then.”

He grins. “Persuasion is my skill.”

Dominic dips his head and seals his lips to mine. It starts as sweet savouring, but then, Dominic’s tongue finds mine and I’m a goner. The kiss is deep and rough and passionate all at the same time.

I sleep tucked in his arms. My ear rests against his soothing heartbeat.

As I fall asleep, I feel eyes on me.

And they’re not Dominic’s.





Chapter Twenty





I wake up to an empty bed and the lingering scent of Dominic’s aftershave.

Sleeping curled into him has become a habit since I jumped him in his chair that night two weeks ago. He still leaves before I wake up, though. If only I weren’t such a heavy sleeper.

I release a frustrated sigh and sit up while checking my phone. Maman sent me a good morning text. She’s busy with house chores at this time or I would’ve called her.

Papa is still not talking to me. Maman says I’m as stubborn as him. We were always a team and it hurts that we’re not on speaking terms. I’ll go back in about a week and mend things with him.

Hopefully.

At the thought of leaving, a gloomy sensation caves my chest.

I push the sheets away.

Today is my day off from the coffee shop, so I’ll just snuggle in bed and read some of my law school assignments.

I might have flown here and glued myself to a sociopath – who still insists he isn’t – but I have a dream I’ll never give up.

Defending helpless people who get scammed is what I’m aiming for. I’m going to haul their offenders to the ground.

I’m such a hypocrite. My dream is to fight off scammers, but I’m all tangled up with a manipulator. Not only in his sheets, but in his body, in his evasive mind, and in that person lurking inside.

Why did he have to tell me about his rough childhood? Now, I’m going to be so open about seeing the best in him.

Which could’ve been his plan all along.

Freaking bastard.

I take the quickest shower because my body is demanding coffee. I don’t bother with wearing clothes. I just wrap a towel around my torso, let locks of wet blonde hair fall to my shoulders, and saunter down the hall.

Not to be dramatic, but morning coffee is like air.

Dominic’s flat is huge but not huge enough to rival the mansion Papa built. After all, we’re talking about a flat, not a mansion.

He has four bedrooms. One of them is his office. I tried breaking into it a few times, but it’s locked and only he has the key. I wondered if he kept dead bodies there, so I brought him a drink once. It looked like a normal office. Which was a bit disappointing. I didn’t want the dead bodies, but I was intrigued to see what he created when it was only him and himself. That brain of his is so fascinatingly screwed up, I’m sure unimaginable things come of it.

Perhaps it’s his research. I’m glad he’s channelling that destructive energy towards something good.

I come to a screeching halt at the threshold of the spacious kitchen.

Dominic.

He’s in black boxer briefs. The defined muscles of his back contract as he perches on the stove.

The swirls from the ‘No Regret’ tattoo send tendrils along his back and shoulders. All my craving for coffee almost becomes nil and void.

Dominic is more addictive than coffee. Ha. I never thought any person would be more important than my magical coffee.

What is he doing here anyway? He goes for a jog every morning and would usually be at the lab about now.

Not that I’m complaining. I mean, I get a view of all those drool-worthy muscles. It’s a blasphemy to complain.

I stand there and admire his backside. A throb starts between my thighs by just watching.

He turns around, and when he catches me checking him out, a sly smirk tugs his lips.