Page 60 of Knights Game

“Oh, please do make yourself at home, darling.” He turns on the engine, the powerful purr echoing in the large car park.

“What did you say, sarcasm, lowest form of humour or something?” I find a radio station I can tune into, rather than listen to the silence that I’m sure will fill the expanse betweenus as soon as we start driving. I start to rummage in his glove compartment for a charger. “How far away are the docks?”

“Depends.” He shrugs. “Why does it matter?”

“I just want to know how long I need to sit in this close proximity to you.”

“I heard no complaints last night.”

“Fuck off.”

The bastard smirks.

“I want to punch that smirk off your face, you know.”

“Now, now, Layla. We really are going to need to work on your loving behaviour. You can practise tonight.”

“So, what is this gala for exactly? You don’t come across as the charitable type.” My phone connects and the charging symbol comes up. Thank God, I can message Katy to reassure her that I’m alive.

“What do you think this is?” He points between the two of us.

“This is a mess.” I repeat his action. “A really annoying one at that.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s a charity event we hold every year for St Thomas' hospital. My Uncle supports them, and well it’s always good to have relationships with doctors. You’ll come tonight, as my date.”

“What am I going to wear? I’ve got your sodding handprints round my throat.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He leans over and pulls the material to see his handy work.

“Stop.” I bat his hand away.

His lips turn down and he nods to himself before pulling quickly onto the main road, the wheels screeching in the process.

“And let’s not add being dressed by a maniac onto the list ofHow Layla has lost the plot. I’m more than capable of buying a dress.”

“Whatever you want sunshine.”

The drive is filled with the usual silence I’ve become accustomed to when travelling with Luca. He’s quiet, pensive and I’m too exhausted to even attempt to argue with him…although being in this close a space, where he has nowhere to hide from me does give me an opportunity to ask—

“Why are you like the way you are?”

“What do you mean? Charming, charismatic, handsome, entrepreneur.” he asks glancing across at me as he pulls up to a traffic light.

“Dark, moody, dangerous, criminal. How’d you get into this life?”

“Life’s a game of poker. You can either accept the hand you’ve been given and bullshit your way through it. Or you cheat.”

“You got a shit hand of poker, so now you cheat?”

“Something like that.”

“You talk in riddles; you know that right? And it is by far the most frustrating thing in the world.” My stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble loudly.

“Hangry?”

“Fuck off.”

“What do you want?”

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