She’d be Laroque’s voluntary captive. She’d have exclusive access to Le Diable in his inner sanctum, an extremely rare opportunity to watch one of her Alpha Dog subjects at work. She’d have access to information that could help the FDS.
This was an opportunity that might never present itself again.
This was what she wanted—wasn’t it?
A dark, sensual excitement tangled with rising adrenaline as conflict raged through Emily. He was making it her decision. He was making her a partner in her own captivity. It was a power play.
Laroque could destroy her if she stayed. He would kill her if he found out who she was working for.
This is life and death, Emily. This is the real thing. Wake up, here, think straight.
Logic screamed at her to leave, screamed that she was basing decisions on flawed reasoning, on personal issues, not professional ones. Logic told her that at some level she was dangerously attracted to this subject, and it reminded her of all the trouble she’d ever gotten herself into when she’d tangled emotionally with A-types. And those men in her past didn’t even begin to hold a candle to the kind of power and sexual charisma Laroque possessed.
Neither were they killers.
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