Page 14 of Treason's Temptation
Treason nodded, briefly taking in the room before circling back to me with a mocked salute.
“No second chances in thisNavie. Got it.”
“There you go with that corny shit again.”
“I have more corny shit in my pocket. Let me take you to dinner so I can tell you about it.”
“Dinner?” I laughed, trying to hide the mania in my tone. “I don’t think so.”
He grinned, not losing hope. “Check me out. I make a mean reservation.”
“You're not my type.”
“And what type is that?”
I didn’t have a type, but if I did, Treason surely wouldn’t be it.
“This,” I replied, waving my hand in front of him.
“You don’t pull punches, do you?” His eyes flickered with amusement.
“No, but I will have a drink with you,” I suggested, guiding him to the champagne station.
“Sip slowly before you end up likeZora,” he teased, watching her bump into a table on the far side of the room.
“If I’m ever that drunk at one of these functions, drag me out the door!” I laughed.
He tilted his head, intrigued enough to slide his hand inside mine, “Pour up, then.”
His confidence definitely deserved a drink. It made a boring gala feel like a night off. Even I could appreciate that. If Treason kept entertaining me leaving together would be an option. I teased him about needing my help tonight, and his mouth lifted in a smile that should’ve come with a warning label. He countered, letting me know he didn’t, but enjoyed it anyway.
Treason’s eyes seemed cryptic, stroking his beard. My brows knitted tight, eyes narrowing, trying to figure out why it was suddenly awkward.
“Watch it, one more look like that and I might let you get me pregnant.”
It was so stupidly unserious, a laugh rumbled from my chest. “What?”
“I’m just saying. She’s been begging for a daughter-in-law. It could be you.”
“I’m not the girl you bring home,” I whispered. “I’m the one your mama warned you to stay away from.”
Treason was too arrogant to heed my warning.
“She knows her son is hard-headed. Nothing would surprise her.”
His reply slid down my spine like warm liquor. Treason brought the glass to his lips, sipped, and let the stem dangle between his fingers as the music swelled around us. Politicians were usually easy to identify, but Treason Westbrook was sharper than most. A little colder and harder to distract, but more fun to play with.
That didn’t earn Treason a pass. I still had to protect myself, looking for any sign that the sedative I slipped in his drink kicked in. The dosage was light, so I didn’t question his commanding posture. He just needed more time. We worked the room, Treason becoming increasingly more comfortable with each conversation. His touch took me someplace else, requiring more effort to pretend, but nothing got past Treason Westbrook.
He angled his body, creating a private moment to ask, You good?”
“Yeah, just hungry. The food here sucks.”
“I’m ready to go anyway. C’mon, let me feed you,” he insisted in a low drawl that made everything sound like a challenge and a promise all at once.
Treason didn’t wait for permission to lace his fingers inside of mine, guiding me through the crowded ballroom. I was smart enough to know he was no good, but there was no harm in enjoying him for the night. Men were usually only good for that long anyway.
Chapter 5
