Page 33 of Seducer

Once inside, I noticed the food had just been placed on our table, the waitress giving me a watchful eye as she passed.

Some people knew evil when they felt it. Perhaps the older woman was more perceptive than I’d given her credit for.

I took my time returning to the table, admiring my wild kitty as she picked at a single fry. She sensed my presence, I could feel it in my bones, but she was trying to avoid eye contact. Was that because our connection was too strong? I hungered to learn everything about her, mostly regarding the woman hiding under the surface.

I slipped into the booth, immediately grabbing a fry and dipping it into the ketchup, which just happened to be at the same time she did.

She lifted her gaze, darting her eyes back and forth across mine. I sensed she was asking herself if she could trust me.

Perhaps that was the moment I decided that someone so fragile and beautiful shouldn’t be left alone. I not only wanted to touch and taste her, I craved discovering everything about her.

Every nuance.

Every desire.

Every aspect of food and drink she preferred.

Movies she enjoyed.

Books she read.

And music she listened to.

Only then could I do what was innate in my system.

Breaking down her defenses and making her mine.

The thought tightened my balls. Soon, the luscious woman with a killer stage presence would learn what crossing a man of my substance would mean.

She would be sent an invitation to the game. It was entirely possible she’d win the prize. I’d be very curious how well she handled herself. That would tell me everything else I needed to know.

Even if she lost, I wouldn’t give a shit. She’d awakened something dark and demonic inside, the electricity we shared phenomenal.

I’d stalk her.

Protect her.

Taste her.

Touch her.

Fuck her.

After that, she would quickly belong to me.

CHAPTER 10

Sara

What did it say about a man that felt comfortable enough to wolf down a cheeseburger in four bites, or to order a second huge ice cream malt and proceed to suck it down like a kid? Or the fact he needed extra ketchup, which made every bite of his French fries sloppy?

Also, what did it say that he just happened to have a mechanic on speed dial? I’d been able to see the face of the man who’d arrived in a big black truck. He’d looked like some bouncer type with far too much testosterone in his body.

Or a hired hitman.

A part of me knew I was being overly dramatic, but Zach was very much the anomaly I’d thought he was. He was also more caring than I’d assumed he’d be. I could tell he was genuinely concerned about what Jerry had done.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Zach as we consumed dinner, my appetite almost matching his. He was entirely different thanhe’d portrayed himself in the office, laughing at half the things I said, lighting up when I appreciated whatever topic he’d brought up.

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