Page 11 of Lethal Vows

The fuck-me eyes that look at you with so much fucking sex, it oozes from her.

It’s a strange contrast.

The silver of her eyes to the caramel of her hair.

You would think they wouldn’t match.

But they do.

Fuck, they match perfectly.

“Is this all I’m here for?” She waves her hand at the food, leaning back and drawing away the temptation. Barely. “Because I need to eat, and this…” she looks down at her plate “… I willnoteat.”

“What do you want to eat?” I ask. “Fucking salad?”

“Anything that doesn’t have meat. Or that comes from an animal.”

I lift my hand, and the waitress quickly returns to the table.

“Tell her what you want.”

She checks around at other tables and spots a plate of seasoned vegetables.

“Can I please have one of those?”

The waitress nods and quickly scurries away.

“Really?” I ask, raising a brow.

“Do you have an issue with my choice of food?” Rya asks.

Palpable silence fills the space. She’s not in any way unnerved by me, and I find that as much irritating as I do fascinating.

“Why am I here, Crue?” she asks, unimpressed. How my name rolls off her tongue draws my gaze to her lips again. Those filthy, fuckable lips. I grab my glass of whisky and down the contents. She should not bethisfucking tempting. But defiant girls do have to be shown a lesson and broken in—it’s how it has always been.

“I plan to marry you,” I state.

She pales, and her crossed arms drop. “No,” she replies.

“No?”

“That’s what I said. I am guessing you don’t hear that word too often?” she says, some color coming back to her face.

“Do you think your father would agree with you saying no to me?”

“He doesn’t have a say. I left. Therefore, he has no say.”

“Just because you left does not mean he doesn’t have control of you.”

“That’s precisely what it means.”

“You know it was him who paid for your education?”

“Of course I do.”

“And you know he’s had you watched for all these years, right?”

“Watched?” She shakes her head. “No, he hasn’t.”

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