Page 53 of Beautiful Cruelty

"Those were different circumstances." She picks up her champagne flute, studying me over the rim. "Unless you're planning to kidnap me again from this very table?"

"The night is still young, Ms. McKinney."

"And you're so far away." She sets down her glass with a deliberate click. "Is this some power play? Making me crane my neck to see you?"

I lean back, loosening my tie. "Maybe I enjoy the view."

"Do you now?" Lacey traces her finger along the rim of her champagne glass as she speaks. "Have you been thinking about me all day?"

"No,” I reply as I pour myself another glass, using the fizz to distract me from what her movements are doing to me.

"Really?" Her eyebrow arches in disbelief. "I find that hard to believe."

"I had other business to attend to." I take a slow sip. "Planning a heist takes time. I can't do that if I spend all day thinking about you, as tempting as it is."

"Right." She leans forward, and the emerald silk shifts enticingly. "I forgot that a mafia don has other responsibilities."

"Bratva." The correction comes automatically. "Not mafia."

"Oh, excuse me." Her lips curl into a teasing smile. "Is there a difference?"

"Several," I say. "I would never lie to you."

"Of course not." She rolls her eyes. "Because criminals areknownfor their honesty."

"I may be many things, Ms. McKinney, but a liar isn't one of them."

"So if I ask about Nathan..."

"I'd tell you exactly what you'd want to know." I meet her gaze steadily. "Even if you might not like the answer."

Her fingers still on the glass. "And if I asked what you plan to do with me?"

"I already told you—make you my wife so that you can help me take down a dangerous human trafficker."

"Am I supposed to believe that'sallyou wantto do?"

I watch her reaction carefully, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, and how her fingers tighten around the glass stem. She wants this as much as I do. That much I know for sure. Right now, in this moment, we both know exactly what this is about.

A struggle for power.

One where I'm supposed to be in control, but somehow she's the one holding the reins.

"What do you think?"

"I think." Her smirk carries a challenge. "You're holding back your truth. I think you'reafraidto tell me because you're afraid that I won't be up for it."

"Is that what you believe?" My voice comes out husky and low.

"Isn't that why you invited me to dinner?" She leans forward. "So let's do away with these pretenses and be honest with each other."

"You want honesty?"

"Isn't that what you promised?"

"Fine." I rise from my chair, stalking toward her with measured steps as I speak. "I want to bury my face between your thighs. To devour you. To feel your dripping cunt quivering against my tongue as you come. To drink you dry and hear you scream until your throat is raw.”

Her lips part and her breath quickens, a light flush creeping up her neck.

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