Page 11 of Reclaim (Deadly Hearts 3)

Our gaze simmers for several seconds before he sits back.

“Expand where?” he asks shortly.

“Wherever I can,” I say, stumped. I don’t know this city, nor how it is split up into turfs. “Got a weak link?”

He snorts. “Always.”

I take a look around the club again, but I see no sign of Tiff. Adam has got men all around him, but no women. At all.

Dammit.

I stand up and then sit my ass back down next to his on the banquet. He shuffles over a little bit and turns to look at me. I rest my hand on his thigh and lean in. “How about we take this negotiation somewhere a little less…busy.”

He smiles, a slow sexy smile that definitely makes him look older than his cute face says from further back. I’d place him early thirties, maybe, up close.

“I know a place,” he says, reaching out to cup the side of my neck, his thumb sliding over my throat and applying just enough pressure to make me squirm. “You aren’t what I expected,” he adds, removing his hand and gesturing one of his team over.

“Meaning?” I ask, before I’m hauled to my feet and scanned for the tracker that is lying dormant in my neck.

The man’s hands slide under my dress, but I take the opportunity to step on his toes and grind my boot down. “Touch my knives and I will gut you with one, or both of them. Got it?”

Adam snickers. “Leave it. I like it.”

The hands disappear and he stands up again. “Clean,” he says and turns off in a huff.

Adam stands up, giving me an interested look and holds his hand out for me. I take it and then surprise him by lacing our fingers together as he leads me out of the back.

I note that I was right about the jeans.

We slip out of the back door, and he opens the passenger side of another black Hummer. Must be the car of note round here. I climb in, glad I’m in boots and not six-inch heels, and wait for him to get in.

He stays silent as he sets off, but when he slides out into the city traffic, he says, “You asked what I meant before. I’m not sure what I expected, but I didn’t peg you as a woman who would exchange sex for a place at the table.”

I grit my teeth and take massive offense to that. “Who said I am?” I bark.

He chuckles. “Feisty. But isn’t that what you’re offering?”

I have to play this very, very carefully. Again, I slide my hand onto his thigh, and he glances at me before turning his attention back to the road. “It’s not a transaction,” I murmur. “There’s heat here. I like to explore heat,” I purr in his ear, resting my finger lightly on the back of his neck. “I think we could be a force to be reckoned with, both in the bedroom and on the streets. Don’t you?”

“Mm,” he murmurs. “I do.”

He stops at a red light and turns to face me, leaning his elbow on the steering wheel. “You’re exactly my type of woman, Ruby,” he says.

“Oh?” I ask. "Most men prefer blondes,” I say, doing a bit of digging.

He laughs. “I didn’t mean your looks, although you are a complete smokeshow. I like strong women,” he says with meaning.

Oh. Interesting development.

Seems I’ve got a little Subbie on my hands. I won’t lie and say that my stomach doesn’t jolt at the thought. Not that I would ever do anything to hurt my men, but the big bad man on his knees is always a massive turn-on. Although, I haven’t seen much to say this, so far, quite pleasant, and articulate man, is the big bad.

“But I agree with your assessment,” he says, turning back to the road as the light goes green. He sets off again. “Have you ever heard of Solitaire?”

I frown. “Exclusive members only club deal?”

“That’s them.”

“What do you want with them?”

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