Page 37 of Brutal King

“Or, you could also play for me.” I reach over and place a hand on his sleeve, making sure my eye contact is solid as I peek up at him through my lashes.

“What should I play?”

I drop my other hand to the bit of cleavage exposed by my blouse and his gaze follows the movement. “Anything you’d like.”

He laughs at me and my smile turns into a snarl. “Stop that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just, you have to admit it’s funny.”

“You want me to seduce you. How am I supposed to do that when you laugh at me?”

“Stop being funny, and I will.”

“It’s not what I was going for.” I plop back into my seat. I want to cry, scream, claw his eyes out. If it wasn’t because Luca’s life is on the line, I’d give up. I’d say, the hell with it!

As if he can read me like a book, he says, “Don’t give up, Little Bird. You’ll figure it out.”

I lance a piece of bacon and stare at it, imaging the fork sliding into Gideon’s eye.

“Don’t stab me with it. You’ll regret it,” he says casually. “Eye for an eye. Pretty as yours are, I’ll do it.”

I lift my gaze to him and watch him suspiciously. “How can you tell what I’m thinking?”

“It’s one of those many talents I was speaking of. I can read people. That’s how I’ve become so successful.”

“And here I thought it was your evil charm.”

He grins with too much amusement for my liking. “Perhaps if you tapped into yours, you’d get somewhere with me.”

“I’m not evil.”

“Perhaps. But you’re definitely not good either.”

I’m stunned, my mouth parted in preparation for some retort I can’t think of. I shake my head in denial of what he’s just said.

Gideon pauses with his egg halfway to his grinning mouth. “Ah, you don’t like hearing what you know is true.”

I finally snap out of it. “I’m a good person!”

“You’ve done good things. So have I. Doesn’t make us good people.”

“What good thing have you done?” I cross my arms over my chest.

“I’ll tell you one good deed I’ve done, if you tell me one you have. But it has to be a good deed, not just that you didn’t kill someone. I bet you can’t top mine.”

“What are we betting this time?”

“A kiss. No biting. No blood. Just a kiss.”

I purse my lips as I consider his offer. “Fine.”

“Okay. I’ll go first. When I was twenty-five years old, I witnessed a burning building. The firemen hadn’t arrived yet, and an old woman was begging everyone that managed to evacuate to help her find her dog. I was the only person willing to risk my life. I wrapped my Armani around my head and ran in calling out to it. When I finally found it, it turned out to be a taxidermy Chihuahua. I brought it to her anyway, and she hugged it like it was the only thing she had left in the world and I just saved it.”

“Bullshit. Oh my God!” I throw my arms up. “You couldn’t make something up that sounded remotely true?”

“It’s true and I can prove it.” He pulls out his cell phone and types something into his web search. An old article in a New York paper titledHartling Building Destroyed in Firecomes up.

He then points to a specific sentence a few paragraphs in. “That was me.”

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