Page 45 of A Game So Reckless

“Something like that,” I mutter, shifting from foot to foot. My skin feels suddenly too sensitive as Darragh’s eyes flit from my arms to my legs to my cleavage.

“I have sugar.”

Startled, I scan his face, looking for signs of a trap. But his expression is unreadable.

“You’d give me some sugar if I needed some,” I repeat in disbelief.

“Depends,” he says, cocking his head.

“On what?”

“On how nicely you begged.”

Oh, fuck this man all the way to Toronto and back. I’ve never begged for anything in my goddamn life.

Except…

You sank your claws into my flesh and you begged me. Begged me with those fucking eyes…

“What a lovely offer,” I spit, glaring at him in the darkness. “But I’m going to have to decline. Besides, I don’t actually need sugar. What I need is something you can’t provide.”

His frame, which had been so relaxed leaning against the car a second ago, goes taut with tension. He straightens to his full height, forcing me to tilt my head back as he approaches in two quick strides.

“There is not a single thing on this planet,” he says with quiet-yet-vehement confidence, “that I cannot provide.”

His words stun me, rattle me to my core, leave me reeling without anything to grab onto to defend myself. What he said felt so… specific.

Like he would provide forme.

But that’s crazy. Right?

I need to find solid ground. Find a way to push back on the oddly enticing way his voice has just worked its way into my veins.

“Alright, then,” I hiss with vicious sweetness. “Got a tampon?”

I have to admit that I expected to get a bit of a victory there. I thought I’d see some surprise in him, some shakiness or hesitation in response to my blunt mention of menstruation, a subject that would send a lot of men running for cover.

But he merely blinks lazily back at me and says, “Not on me.”

Then, in a smooth movement, he’s taken a step back towards the vehicle and opened the passenger door.

“Get in.”

“Why?”

He raises his brows in a sort ofI can’t believe I have to explain thisexpression.

“Because I’m taking you shopping.”

“You… What?” Once again, I’m centreless and grappling for a response. Darragh somehow manages to strike the perfect, bizarre balance of unpredictability that steals my own balance in turn. No wonder he’s built such a vast empire, one to rival my family’s. He probably keeps both his enemies and his allies on their toes at all times.

"You heard me,” he replies. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not,” I say, shaking my head at the insanity of the suggestion. “I’m just going to ask one of them-”

“They’re not there. At least, the two couples with the women left.”

“How the hell do you even know that?”

---