Page 39 of Speak No Claim

“Dancing under the moon?” I scoffed. “Not unless you’re sharing whatever you’re on.”

She huffed a laugh, still not looking at me, obsessed with my tattoos. “It’s called nature.”

Without wavering, I baited, “Are you a witch?” I tried to see if she’d give me a straight answer.

“Why?” She smiled, her gaze now reading the font on my chest piece. “Are you scared?”

“Of fairy tales?” I taunted.

My words snapped her gaze to connect with mine. Taking one deliberate step toward me, she sassed, “Little do you know…” She took another step in my direction. “You burned me at the stake in 1692.” She got right in my space, moving my crossbow out of the way before getting on the tips of her toes, closing the distance between us.

My six-foot-two frame towered above her. She couldn’t have been taller than five-four.

With determination, she looked up at me. “And I cursed you to find me in every lifetime.”

Unable to resist the temptation, breaking one of my oaths, I conceded, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Belladonna, Hennessy.”

The wall she built came crumbling down, anxiously waiting for what I’d confess next. I had her right where I wanted her. Witnessing the uncertainty crash through her confidence made my dick hard.

When I didn’t share more, she insisted, “Keep going.”

“Tell me, Hennessy…” I threw her a bone, gathering information I could use for later. “How much do you actually know about your family’s history?”

She stepped back. “You mean my father’s?”

“I mean your bloodline.”

She shook her head, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Good.” I nodded. “The less you know, the better.”

“Better for who? Your family? The Graves Academy? My uncle? What?” She was exasperated. “Or better yet, what do you know about my family? How about we start there?”

Using this to my advantage, I bargained, “What do I get out of it?”

She flinched. “You think this is a negotiation?”

“Everything in life is.”

“Huh,” she hummed. “Is that what your prestigious Graves Academy is teaching you? It’s called extortion. It also comes with a prison sentence.”

I argued, “Only if you get caught, and even then, just throw some money at the problem.”

“So silence is bought?”

“Yes. Especially if you’re dead.”

Her eyes widened. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

“I’m not the one who’s interrogating you, now, am I?”

She huffed out a deep breath. “The only thing you haven’t done is strip-search me.”

I held back a laugh. “Then bend over and cough for me, Hennessy.”

“You know…” Mischievously, she smiled. “Two can play this game.”

“Careful,” I warned with a slow grin that time. “You don’t know all the rules yet.”