Page 9 of Wilde and Deadly

“Am I your prisoner now?” she asked, her voice light but her eyes dark with challenge.

“Are you planning to make a break for it?”

Rowan tilted her head, her hair brushing against his arm. “And if I do? Are you going to tackle me to the ground? Or does this mysterious squirrel army of yours handle the dirty work?”

Her voice was little more than a purr that sent shivers down Davey’s spine.

He leaned in closer, trapping her against the doorframe. “I think we both know I prefer to handle you myself.”

“You could try.” She pushed up to her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his ear. “But we both know how that would end.”

Images flashed through Davey’s mind— tangled limbs, heated skin, breathy moans. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Bristow.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” Her fingers trailed down his chest, igniting sparks beneath his skin.

His pulse hammered as her fingers skimmed over his chest, deliberate and teasing. Every instinct told him to grab her, flip her onto the couch, and remind her exactly who she was playing with. Except that’s what she wanted. A distraction. A carefully laid trap. And if he let himself get pulled into it, she’d slip right through his fingers—again.

He caught her wrist before she could trail her fingers further south. “Not this time. We need to talk.”

Her lips curved, wicked and knowing. “Careful, Davey,” she murmured, her voice dropping into a sultry whisper that sent heat curling low in his gut. “You’re in my space now.”

Jesus Christ.

The way she said his name, low and taunting, like she was daring him to lose focus—it did things to him. He should’ve known better. Hell, he did know better, but knowing and resisting were two different things when it came to Rowan Bristow.

His grin turned sharp, and he leaned in just enough for her breath to hitch. “And what happens when I’m in your space, Rowan?”

She arched a brow, daring him. “You find out exactly how dangerous that can be.”

Oh, he already knew. Had known from the moment she walked back into his life like a hurricane, leaving chaos and frustration in her wake. And still, here he was, standing in the middle of the storm.

“I’ve never shied away from danger.” He dragged the words out slowly, giving her a fraction of a second to react before flipping the script. “Last chance,” he murmured, his lips a breath away from hers. “Come with me willingly, or I’ll have to use these.”

He pulled the cuffs from his back pocket, the metal catching the dim light.

Rowan stilled. Her pupils flared. But not with fear.

Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips, and God help him, his self-control was hanging on by a thread.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He smirked. “Try me.”

For a long moment, they stood frozen in a silent battle of wills. This was always how it went with them. A game. A fight. A dance with no clear end.

Then, to his absolute shock, Rowan’s shoulders sagged. “Fine. You win. I’ll come quietly.”

Wait. What?

Davey blinked, thrown off guard by her sudden capitulation. His brain scrambled to process it, to read between the lines. This was too easy.

She was up to something.

But she stood still, wrists extended, waiting. Daring him to believe her.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” she said softly.

His jaw flexed. He was missing something. He knew it. But if this was the game she wanted to play, fine.

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