Free Freefall (The Indigo Lounge Series, #5) by Zara Cox

haven’t done anything to alleviate the diabolic edge riding me. I’m playing a dangerous game of chicken with myself that could explode into a steaming shit storm if I’m not careful. I know this. And yet, I’d let Zach talk me into this project, knowing very well it will keep me here in an environment I detest. With people I despise even more.
    But not this woman in front of me.
    I don’t despise her. I’m compelled by her. My intense fascination is enough to make me want to do things to her that would probably be against any law in any land.
    “Are you going to respond to what I said?” I ask, noting her tripping pulse with dark satisfaction.
    “No. I’ve decided to let you exist in your deluded little bubble.”
    I almost smile at her tart tone. She’s contrary in a way that mesmerizes me. In another time, I’d have loved to break her down, piece by piece, and build her up again just the way I wanted her. To do that with her now would need time, patience. Neither of those commodities is available to me right now. The strain I’m under is too much to even think about adding to it.
    “Okay, princess. I’ll let you keep pretending everything we’re both feeling right there, right now is all in my head. Which way do you want to go?” I ask, reluctantly lifting my fingers from her skin.
    “I came to see the whole yacht, so it doesn’t matter which way we start, does it? And please don’t call me princess.”
    I step up next to her, and she has to tilt her head up to look me in the face. My gaze trails over her vulnerable neck and the pulse beating at her throat, and admit I like the sight of it a little bit more than is healthy. “Why not?”
    Her beautiful green eyes shadow before her eyelashes sweep down, hiding her expression from me. “Because I’m about as far from a princess as you can get.”
    From any other person, I’d have believed that statement was a coy attempt to gain my interest. From her, I believe she really means it. Just as I believe it stems from whatever pushed her into throwing herself in an icy sea two weeks ago.
    I shrug internally. I’ve never been the sort of guy who doles out pet names. Although, if I allow myself to think about it, she reminds me of an alley cat—all claws, sharp teeth and vulnerable underbelly just itching to be stroked.
    It’s that vulnerability I want nothing to do with. I don’t want to know her weaknesses. The temptation to exploit them will be too great. My subtle, insidious ability to twist weaknesses to my advantage was the reason my mother called me a monster when I was eleven.
    It was the reason my father handed me keys to his kingdom on my eighteenth birthday, slapped me on the back and toasted to my genius when I quadrupled the family fortune by the time I was twenty-five.
    It was the reason Cassie was a sitting duck the moment she entered my orbit. She never really stood a chance.
    Thoughts of Cassie bring the clarity of mind I need. “Point taken,” I say to Keely.
    Her eyelids start to lift, and I turn away, knowing the tiniest hint of interest would tip me in the wrong direction. I head down the first port hallway, away from the entertainment lounges.
    I enter the first room and let her wander in. As she passes me, I smell her perfume and stem the need to breathe her in like a greedy, sick fool, regardless of the fact that it’s exactly what I am.
    Enough is never enough for you, is it? You have to take and take and keep taking until there’s nothing left! You know what you are? You’re fucking EVIL!!
    I block out Cassie’s voice and keep my eye on Keely.
    She walks down the arena-like cinema, taking in each detail of the seats and the adult accessories attached to the plush upholstery. She picks up a remote and examines the buttons before she looks at me.
    “Are there no privacy settings on the seating areas?” she asks.
    “What’s the point? Isn’t part of the thrill of being in this room the exhibitionism?”
    The room is too