Page 86 of King of the Cage

I grinned. “Now, that was definitely complimentary. Are you trying to get in my pants, wee one? Because if you are… it’s working.”

She rolled her eyes again, and I used her distraction as a chance to pull her closer, pressing myself against her lithe body.

“You know what you look like… and you know how charming you are. It’s your schtick, right? I bet you get anything you want from anyone you want when you turn the charm on.”

“Really? Could I have gotten you to marry me if I’d just asked?” I asked.

She scoffed, her dark eyes staring into mine. The rest of the pub fell away.

“Getting small things is easy… small, inconsequential favors that mean nothing. Sure, that’s simple. The big things? The things I really want? Those have never come easy to a man like me.”

“A man like you?” she repeated. Her little pink tongue nipped out and wet her lips.

I was mesmerized.

“And what kind of man are you?”

I shrugged. “Isn’t that what people spend their lives trying to work out?”

Giada tossed her head. “Maybe men do. I know who I am, and I always have.”

“Hmmm, is that right? And who is that?” I caught the eye of one of my men, dancing with his wife behind us. I cut my eyes to the door, and he got the message.

Slowly, the other couples filed out of the pub. I wanted to be alone with my wife.

“Brilliant, of course, beautiful, or so they say. Loud, overly opinionated…” She trailed off. “Insufferably superior at times.”

Her eyes rose to mine, daring me to comment on that admission.

“As you should be,” I told her gruffly. “You are superior. Own it. It’s really fucking hot. I could listen to you tell me shit I don’t know all day.”

She jerked, her mouth falling open for a moment in surprise. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments, O’Connor,” Giada said.

She was closing up. She’d shown me a glimpse inside, and now, she was covering her tracks. Making sure she couldn’t be seen.

“I know,” I murmured and walked her purposefully backward toward the bar. The door had shut behind the last patron, and we were alone.

Just like I wanted.

“But I can’t help myself.”

Her spine came up against the counter, and she tilted her head back to keep me in her sights. I pressed my front to her. I was so hard, I could barely think. I rocked my hard-on over her soft belly.

I cupped her face, her pulse fluttering under my fingers.

She smirked. “Your charm won’t get you anywhere with me,” she murmured. “I’m not one of your simpering fans.”

Her pulse beat hard in her slender throat. I dropped my other hand to her neck, circling the slender column, enjoying the feeling of her blood pumping right beneath my palm.

“That’s right, you’re not. You’re my wife,” I stated quietly.

She swallowed and wet her lips again. Her pupils were huge, as if she were excited. She wasn’t nearly as calm as she wanted me to believe.

“For tonight, at least… until I die tomorrow,” I reminded her, taking the edge off the tension between us. It was white-hot, simmering beneath my skin. How could one person’s touch set my blood on fire? What strange magic did this complicated, fascinating woman possess?

She nodded slowly. “Until you die tomorrow,” she repeated in a whisper.

“So, fuck me like it’s my last night to live,” I murmured.

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