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"You mentioned that your father moved back to Lille?" She raises her gaze to mine. "But you and your family lived in London?"

"Yeah, that's where my brother and I grew up. My father worked in the city."

"And you followed in his footsteps?"

"Not directly." I scowl down at the board. What the hell is taking her so long? Is she one of those people who analyzes every move before they make it?

I drum my fingers on the table, "Why don’t you play as we speak?"

"Why don’t you speak as we play?"

"I’ll tell you more after you play."

"I’ll play if you tell me more."

I lean back in my chair. "This is not a negotiation, sugar."

"Isn’t it? Sure seems that way, considering you’re not coming through on your side of the bargain."

"We still have time, don’t we?" I glance toward the window where the rain is coming down in sheets outside. "After all, how long does your fertility window last?"

"Forty-eight hours," she snaps. "That’s the most I am probably fertile post ovulation."

"That gives us…until, the end of tonight?"

"Exactly. So, if I were you, I’d get with the program." She lays out her words on the board between us.

C

H

I

F O O L

D

"You’re kidding me," I growl.

"More like, you’re the one who’s been kidding me."

"Is that right?" I glare at her and she pales. She flips her hair over her shoulder, then begins to play with one of her locks.

“I mean, how hard can it be to, as you said earlier, turn me over and take me without—"

I hold up my hand, "Think very carefully about what you’re going to say next."

"Without…" she hesitates, "Uh, without…"

"Hold on a second, doll. Let me play my word." I place my letters on the board.

C

H

I

F O O L