Page 11 of Pretty Little Threats

Leaning against the railing, one hand casually holdingon to the top bar, I take a sip of my drink and study the skyline. From the sixty-fourth floor, New York City is a beautiful display of lights whose reflections glitter along the East River.

A gust of wind sweeps against my back, tendrils of my hair whipping and lashing the air, and a shiver skates down my spine. But I’d rather be cold than go back inside. I enjoy working with my dad. I love connecting with him through his business. It’s always been one of the most important things to him.

But the schmoozing and ass-kissing kill me inside.

Sometimes I want the freedom to kick Eric Vanderbelt in the nuts. That’s not how the business works, though.

Every nerve snaps to attention, alerting me to approaching danger. The small hairs on the back of my neck rise. Gooseflesh rushes down my arm, and I brace myself for Eric’s company.

“Careful, you might fall,” a deep voice says behind me.

Oh, thank god, it’s not Eric.

My relief is short lived. Dare is still a monster.

“And will you be the one to push me?” I muse, taking a sip of my martini and not bothering to turn around. I won’t let him think he’s scared me yet again. My grip tightens on the railing, nonetheless.

The air thickens as he edges closer, his energy magnetic and stifling. Part of me desperately wants to turn around to watch him prowl toward me. I furrow my brow and concentrate on the skyline.

Dare stands beside me. “Are you going to give me a reason to push you?”

Guilt gnaws at my insides. I never should have mentioned his sisters. “Why are you here?”

“I was invited.”

As was every member of JD Miller & Co’s board, along with the richest of NYC’s socialites. Dare never comes to these events. Which means he’s here for one reason, and one reason alone.

Me.

He rests his hand on the railing, his pinky brushing against mine.

I swing my head in his direction, startled by how close he is. Square jawline, plump lips, sharp nose, clear, fair complexion and eyebrows any woman would envy, save the little scar cutting across the one on the right, there’s no denying how handsome Dare is.

Too bad he’s on my shit list.

Shifting enough that my hand slides inches away from his, I turn and stare the beast straight in the eye. “You’re trying to scare me.”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe,” I confess. “But if you were going to hurt me, you wouldn’t do it with so many witnesses.”

His mouth twitches at the corners. “You threatened my family.”

“You cornered me and I took a shot.” I shrug. “But you can relax, sweetheart. Murder isn’t my kink.” I give him a pointed look.

“Have you tried it?”

“No.”

He rubs his hand over his chin. “More into missionary, then?”

Oh good, he’s insulting me some more.

“I’m surprised you know what that is. Here I thought you were a virgin,” I fire back.

“Spread your legs, and I’ll show you how much a virgin I am.” He adjusts himself in his pants.

Heat floods my cheeks and I don’t look down. Definitely not.

---