Page 17 of Under the Lies

“Maybe I like to be alone,” I tell him.

“Oh I remember.” The husky quality of his voice makes it sound scandalous. “But maybe you might want some company. Just this once.”

“You mean so you can question me endlessly about my sister? No thanks.” I start to turn the stool around when Noah’s hand shoots out, holding my thigh.

I stare at it, my breath slowing. Gradually, my eyes meet his.

“Perhaps I want to talk about you.” His eyes are honed on my lips.

Noah’s not the only one with eyes on me. Over his shoulder the woman from earlier glares at me, still seated in the booth.

“Looks like your friend is missing you.”

A wolfish grin appears. “Want to join us? She always does better with two people.”

“Tempting.” I take a sip of my drink, licking the excess liquid off my lips. “But no.”

His eyes flash, locked on my lips.

Feeling bold, I dart my tongue out, licking them again.

Noah’s hooked on the movement.

He takes a step closer as I say, “Go back to your lady-friend, Noah. I’m not here for you.”

He tilts his head to the side. It must be baffling to his ego that my being here has nothing to do with him.

“I’m here as a guest with a friend,” I continue when he doesn’t say anything.

Noah stares at me and I stare back until he shakes his head at my naiveté. “You shouldn’t have come here, guest or not” —he snatches the martini glass out of my hand and downs the rest— “But now that you have, I’m not letting you get away.”

I swallow as a wicked gleam brightens those frosty eyes.

A dark chuckle fills my ears. “Ready to play, Baby Brooks?”

“What’s your poison?” Noah asks, shuffling a deck of cards between us.

We’re sitting around a poker table in a private room that’s hidden behind a locked door.

Me, and the most powerful man in town.

“You’re letting me decide?” Disbelief colors my tone.

He clicks his tongue. “Always thinking the worst of me.”

“Do you blame me?” I can’t help but ask. “I just saw you break a man’s arm.”

Noah’s hands stop middle shuffle. “Are you afraid to be alone with me, Sayer?”

Am I afraid to be alone with him? Did he ever care before? All the times he sought me out when I was a teenager? “No.”

“Liar,” he challenges with narrow eyes. “I terrified you as a teenager.”

I was afraid with how you made me feel. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from answering.

Noah goes back to shuffling the cards and I watch them blur between his hands.

“What’s your game?” he asks again.

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