Page 170 of Lethal King

“I can only hope,” he smiles, his blue eyes falling onto my throat. “I’ve tried. It didn’t work out.”

“So, what? Now you’ve decided to win me over with bribes instead of by force?”

“No, that’s not it.”

This time, I hear the waiter approach as he brings our bottle to the table.

“What is this, then?” I ask.

“It’s called wine,” he jokes. Waving off the waiter once more, he takes my glass and fills it up to the brim. “Drink.”

“Are you trying to make up for that time you fed me raw chicken?” I push, unsure of how to feel about this.

“You loved that chicken,” he smiles. “Almost as much as you loved what we did after you devoured it.”

Rian practically shoves that memory into my face. There’s no stopping the sweltering memory of what we shared in that bedroom. And there’s no denying the effect it has on me.

My toes curl. My thighs clench. A familiar pressure appears in my core.

“I doubt I enjoyed it as much as you,” I return. But that only draws me deeper into his trap.

My tongue flashes out across my lips. I can practically taste Rian’s body. I can almost feel his thick cock.

“I hope you did,” he says, leaning back in his chair.

Just like that, I’m overwhelmed by a very simple temptation. To sit back, kick off my shoes, and enjoy this night for what it appears to be.

An innocent dinner date.

But in our world, nothing is ever so innocent.

“What are you looking at?” I ask, but the venom in my voice isn’t so strong anymore.

Still, I stay prepared for the worst.

But even that’s hard to do as Rian stares me down. His ocean blue eyes twinkle with curiosity. He’s looking at me like he can’t quite believe I’m real. The crown hidden between my feet grows heavy.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before,” he says, ignoring my question.

“Stop it,” I say, shaking my head.

I hate how domestic this is starting to feel. How warm and fuzzy and right. It reminds me of how I imagined Kaja felt cuddled up on Babcia’s chest. But Rian isn’t Babcia.

He’s a killer. My hunter. My prey.

My enemy.

“Stop what?” he asks, playing dumb.

“Stop trying to make this a date.”

“I’m not trying, angel. That’s what it is.”

“We don’t even know who set this whole thing up.”

Rian just shrugs.

“So, call it a blind date, then. Does that make you feel better?”