Page 15 of Vicious Games

I waited until the waiter left to say, “I don’t like raw oysters.”

He took a sip of his water. “Have you ever had raw oysters?”

“Technically, no, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know I won’t like them.”

“You’ll try the oysters.”

“Are you trying to use them as some kind of archaic aphrodisiac to get me into bed, because that’s a total myth.”

Roman leaned over. Out of the view of the guests, he placed his warm hand on my thigh and slowly caressed it upward until his fingertips were teasing my pussy through my silk panties. He then whispered into my ear, “Baby, I don’t need a fucking oyster to get you in my bed.”

My eyes closed as I gripped the table. In that moment, I didn’t give a damn that we were out in public. I just wanted him to move my panties aside and finger fuck me until I came. To my disappointment, he removed his hand and leaned back in his chair to study me.

Pretending that he hadn’t just affected me like a storm in a teacup, I concentrated on straightening my already straight silverware.

After several moments of silence, Roman said, “I owe you an apology.”

I was so startled, I knocked over my water glass.

Three servers came rushing over. My cheeks flamed as I watched them scoop up the ice cubes and lay a clean, dry tablecloth over the wet area, then replace the crystal and china dinnerware.

Once they were finished, I turned back to Roman. “What did you just say?”

I absolutely, positively had to have heard him incorrectly.

Roman chuckled as he laid his hand over mine on the top of the table. “I said I owe you an apology.”

My mouth dropped open.

He squeezed my hand. “Don’t look so incredulous. I am quite capable of apologizing.”

“All evidence to the contrary,” I mumbled.

Again, I got that arrogant eyebrow raise.

I blushed and stuttered. “Well, it’s just that… you’re… well, you! You’re not exactly known for saying you’re sorry to anyone, let alone me. I can think of countless things you’ve done that you should have said you’re sorry for and haven’t.”

His eyes hardened. His hand tightened on mine. What was once a comforting pressure became slightly painful. “Let’s be clear, kitten. I will admit that I may have overreacted to finding out about your plans for France. I should have given you a chance to come to me and ask permission to go.”

My stomach tightened.

Ask permission?

He continued before I could object. “But that does not mean I am apologizing for one damn thing that I have done to make you mine. If given a chance, I’d do it all over again.”

I tried to pull my hand free. He strengthened his grip until my fingertips turned white.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I fumed through clenched teeth.

“Watch your language!”

“Fuck you. I’ll say fuck all I want—fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Roman wrapped his hand around my jaw. “Keep saying fuck and I’ll bend you over this table, push up that disgustingly short dress you’re wearing, and fuck your ass in front of all of these people.”

His threat stopped me short. He was rich and powerful enough to do just that, and not a single damn person in this restaurant would stop him. Why on Earth had I thought I was safer out in public with a man like Roman? There was no safe place with him.

Lowering my voice, I whispered harshly, “I know it was you! I know it was your gun Alfred used. You tried to frame me for murder. Did he even embezzle the money from you, or was that all just a sham as well?”

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