Page 194 of The Rules
Ben blinked. That? He hadn’t expected.
"Mad?"
“I was angry,” she said tightly. “You made my life hell those first few months—every shitty task, every impossible deadline, and I don't forgot what you assumed about me the first time we met.”
Her voice wavered, not with weakness but with fury that had been building for too long. The emotion rose in her chest, hot and sharp.
"I wanted to mess with you. To make you feel the same heat you made me live in every single day."
Ben absorbed that. Let the silence settle around it like smoke, taking his time to process her words. Then—
"So it was revenge. So you wanted to turn me on and then walk away." he said, his tone calm, almost amused.
Katherine turned to glare at him, finally meeting his gaze directly.
“I didn’t want to ruin you. I just wanted to flip the script—for once.”
Ben hummed, a low sound in the back of his throat. He wasn't angry. Wasn't hurt. He looked very, very interested, like he'd just discovered a new side of her he'd very much like to keep playing with.
And maybe? He liked her more for it.
Ben shifted beside her. Kath could feel the mattress dip slightly with his movement, the sheets rustling as he turned toward her more fully. The darkness didn't hide his intensity—it only made it sharper, more focused.
"Then tell me this," his voice dropped lower, quieter—like this one question cost more than the rest. "Why did you come back for the third dance?"
Katherine’s silence stretched, her gaze shifting like she needed to find the right shelf in her mind to store the question on. It touched something quiet. Personal.
She'd spent so long building defenses against him, against this exact type of moment—where he would strip away her excuses and make her face the truth. Her pulse quickened, but she kept her breathing steady, refusing to let him see how much the question unsettled her.
“Not just about the money,” she said, her voice defensive, clipped. “I needed a reason. Ian would’ve asked questions if Ipassed on a high-ticket guest. Saying no without cause draws attention. You know how it works—we don’t reject unless they’re drunk, grabby, or violent. You weren’t any of those.”
She hesitated. Just a breath.
“I could’ve said you were. Lied. Claimed you crossed a line, and that would’ve been it—problem solved. But I didn’t want to put you in that kind of position.”
Her eyes flicked toward him, sharp and unreadable.
“Especially when it wasn’t true.”
Her voice was calm. Controlled. Legal-grade logic. But it was a shield. And he knew it. She could tell by the way he watched her, waiting for the real answer beneath her careful explanation.
Ben nodded, slowly. His eyes never left her face, studying her with that infuriating patience that made her feel like he had all night to wait for her truth.
"Fair," he said quietly. "I hadn't thought of that."
A pause stretched between them, heavy with unspoken things. Kath felt her pulse quicken as she waited for him to accept her answer and move on. But she knew better.
"Still," he said, his voice softer, pressing gently against her defenses. "That doesn't explain what came next."
Kath stilled. The sheets suddenly felt too warm, too tight around her legs. Her skin prickled with awareness as his words hung in the air between them. She knew exactly what he meant.
"You didn't just come back," Ben continued, his tone measured but relentless. "You gave me more. Got closer. Why?"
Her stomach dropped. Her mouth dried. The question stripped away all her careful explanations, all her rational justifications. It demanded the truth she'd been avoiding since that night—since she'd knelt between his legs and changed everything.
In a sudden, childish impulse, Kath yanked the blanket over her head, hiding from his penetrating gaze.
"Because I don't want to talk about this," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.
