Page 71 of Dirty Play

“Yeah?” I keep my face neutral.

“Where the hell are we?” She shifts in her seat.

“My place.” I glance at her like it’s obvious.

“Yourplace?” She blinks.

She stares at me like I’ve just told her I’m secretly a lizard person.

“Rowan.” Her voice rises slightly. “You said you were dropping me off.”

“Did I?” I smirk.

“Yes!” She makes a strangled noise.

“I said we were getting dinner.” I pull up to the circular driveway, killing the engine before turning to her.

“And we couldn’t do that in a restaurant?” Her eyes narrow.

“Could’ve.” I shrug. “Didn’t want to.”

Her mouth opens, then closes.

“You…” She throws her hands up. “You can’t just kidnap me, Rowan.”

“You got in the car willingly, baby.” I grin, unbuckling my seatbelt.

“And if I say I want to leave?” she groans, rubbing her temples.

I lean over, bracing one hand on the console between us, bringing my face close to hers.

“Then I’ll take you home. But we both know that’s not what you want.”

She swallows, her pulse visible at the base of her throat. She exhales, long and slow, before throwing me the world’s most skeptical look.

“Fine.”

That’s all I need.

I hop out of the car, coming around to open her door before she can even try to protest again.

Livia steps out, her eyes immediately scanning the house.

“Jesus, this is…” She lets out a breath, taking in the glass walls, sleek modern architecture, and wide stone steps leading up to the grand entrance. “This is ridiculous.”

“So, you like it?” I ask, guiding her toward the front door.

“Ihatethat I like it,” she scoffs.

“Then you’re gonnahatehow much you’re about to love the inside.” I chuckle, pushing the door open for her.

She stops dead in the foyer, her head tilting back as she takes in the high ceilings, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, the grand staircase, the modern art pieces on the walls that I didn’t pick out.

“What the hell is this?” Her voice comes out slow like her brain is buffering.

“My house.” I shrug.

“No, this is not a house,” she says, still frozen in place. “This is some billionaire’s sex den.”

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