Free Cold as Ice by Anne Stuart Page A

fuchsia sides. He'd already popped it open, a good thing, because her hands were shaking as she lifted it to her mouth.
    "Aren't you going to worry that I'm drugging you again?" He sat back down.
    "I don't care," she said, drinking half the can in one gulp, letting the cold liquid slide down her throat. She closed her eyes and let out a blissful sigh. She would have welcomed anything cold and wet, but this was almost enough to make her not want to kill him. Almost.
    She opened her eyes again, to see him watching her. "So what do you want?" she asked again.
    He hesitated, and he didn't seem like a man who would ever hesitate. "I'm afraid there's nothing you can offer me, Ms. Spenser. I have a job to do."
    "And what is that?"
    "My orders are to kill Harry Van Dorn," he said, his voice flat. "And anyone else who gets in the way."
     
    She was tough, he had to grant her that. Only the quick blink of her eyes betrayed any kind of reaction to his bald statement. She believed him, though. She was too smart not to.
    "Why?"
    "I don't know the particulars, and I prefer it that way. I'm very good at what I do, and part of the reason is that I never ask why. I figure if I'm sent to take care of someone then he must have done something to deserve it."
    "Who sends you? Who gave you these orders?" she demanded.
    "It wouldn't mean anything if I told you. Believe it or not, we're the good guys."
    "The good guys?" she scoffed. "And you're going to kill a harmless dilettante like Harry Van Dorn in cold blood?"
    "I assure you he's not quite as harmless as he seems," Peter said.
    "And what about me?"
    "What about you?"
    "You said you were told to kill Harry Van Dorn and anyone who got in the way. Does that include me?"
    He should have lied. People were better off if they didn't know they were going to die. They got panicky, did unexpected things and made his job that much harder. "Would you believe me if I told you no?"
    She shook her head. "Then trust me, you aren't one of the good guys. I've never done anything remotely worth getting killed over. And I don't particularly want to die."
    "Few people do."
    "So how am I supposed to change your mind?"
    He considered it for a moment, as he'd been considering it for the last several hours. "I don't think you can. For what it's worth, I promise it won't hurt. You won't even know what's happening."
    "I don't think so." She set the empty Tab can down beside her and met his gaze quite calmly. "If you're going to murder me you're going to have to work hard to do it, and I have no intention of letting go easily. I'm going to kick and scream and fight all the way."
    "It's a losing battle, Ms. Spenser." He was amazed at how calm he sounded. As if silencing unfortunate witnesses and accomplices was a normal part of his duties as one of the best-trained operatives in the Committee. He was the best marksman, brilliant with a knife and in hand-to-hand combat, and he never showed or felt emotion. The Iceman, as always, both in temperament and his specialty in putting unwanted evil on ice.
    But Ms. Spenser wasn't evil. This was the first time he'd ever made the mistake of letting someone unwitting get caught in the careful trap he'd set, and he was going to have to live with the consequences. They were in the middle of one of the most complicated operations in his memory—Harry Van Dorn was up to something and all the resources and manpower of the Committee had been unable to uncover anything more than a few hints. Harry was a control freak—this wouldn't go further without him overseeing it. They needed Harry on ice, permanently, with no interference, so they could find out what the hell the Rule of Seven was, and how they could stop it.
    He couldn't afford to let her go…she had already seen too much, knew too much. She was a smart woman—give her time and she could put together far too much information on the Committee. She'd jeopardize the lives of the men and women who risked everything. It was an equation