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“Yeah,” I state, proud my voice doesn’t betray me. “Much. Thanks.”
“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” he chided. “A little help never hurt anyone.”
Our eyes meet. Not a passing glance, but something stops us looking away. For a second, I think I see recognition ignite his eyes, but it’s fleeting, like the breath of a memory just breezed across his skin. He clears his throat, focusing on my ankle, and I take this as my chance to change the game.
“Beck,” I breathe, then grin, bringing us back into the room. “I can call you Beck, right?”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
His tone is hot, the husk heavy, and he smiles back politely.
“Good,” I reply sweetly, my finger dancing around the rim of my glass. “I’m just assuming here, but how about you tell a girl like me how a guy like you evidently comes to be one of the most powerful men in this city yet sits in a bar nursing a stranger’s sprained ankle?”
He picks at one of my black curls. The sweet scent of nicotine catches me, and my eyes flit from his face to his hand before falling back onto his handsome features.
“If I told you that,” he starts, pausing only for effect, I’m sure, “I’d have to kill you.”
I grin sweeter, now more than ever a fragile pawn in his hand because I know full well Beckett Knight wouldn’t hesitate to push a blade through my delicate skin.
But that’s what makes this saccharine moment taste so much better. He’d hurt me without a second thought, but me? I’d hurt him and take delight in feeling his blood on my hands.
Because that’s just the kind of girl I am.
“Well, in that case, I insist…”
I was never a woman who didn’t know how to use her sensuality as a weapon. I thanked my lucky stars for that because sex appeal gets you a long way. Weakness gets you nowhere.
I came to him a damsel; I’ll leave him anything but.
“Am I breaking something up?”
Lazily, I take my eyes from Beck and cast them right, looking up at Andreas as he stands watching, a desperate onlooker.
Part of me wants to scream, the devil in me not yet sated.
“Oh,” I softly gasp. “Honey, you’re finally here.”
Innocence rolls from me as I sit up straighter, putting space between Beck and me.
“Yeah, I am,” he starts, his voice tighter than I’ve ever heard it. “Am I breaking something up?”
This time, he adds a tension to his words.
“Actually, you are.”
Beck’s voice is strong, laced with a malice he hadn’t shown me. I suddenly notice the way his face seems to cut the air sharper. His demeanour has darkened in the presence of a new male, one he doesn’t know or like very much.
“And you might be?”
“The fiancé.”
Laughing quietly, I pull my leg away from Beck’s lap, pulling a plug on this intimacy. Beck fixes me with a look as the ice pack falls between his legs and hits the floor.
“What was that?” he barks.
“A first meeting,” I retort. “Told you names were irrelevant.”
To add insult to injury, I test my ankle before focusing on him enough to brush my lips against his cheek.
