Page 63 of Pretty Little Threats

Dare smirks.

I scowl but quickly wipe it away. It’s too easy to forget myself and react to him. Or maybe he’s that infuriating. Without speaking, I turn away from him and head to the elevators. Dare follows me, the hairs on the back of my neck rising as he checks me out.

The Hugo Boss dress is hardly sexy, but with my C-cups, wide hips, and soft stomach, the fabric clings to my body. The heat of Dare’s gaze swoops to my ass. I add a little extra sway to my hips and hear his pleased hum in response. Only he would make me feel this way in corporate workwear.

“Morning, Ms. Miller.” Irene greets me with a warm smile, though it slips away when she spots the man who’s come to a stop beside me.

Dare’s forearm brushes against mine. He’s too close, but of course, he knows that. Dare lives to make me mad. Refusing to acknowledge him, I pretend he doesn’t exist.

“Morning, Irene.”

She grabs a bagel from her stand. “Hungry?”

Actually, I’m not. Dare made breakfast again, but out of respect for the ritual, I take the bagel and grin at her. “Always. Thank you.”

She waves her hand. “Don’t mention it.” Her gaze cutsto Dare. Normally, she’d fill me in on Dad’s mood, but with Dare here, I can see her unease.

“How’s your granddaughter?” I ask, not wanting Dare to know she might be a source of information on my dad.

The woman’s face brightens once more. “Good. We finally found a physical therapist to help her learn to crawl, and it’s going well!”

“That’s amazing,” I tell her.

Irene nods and glances at the screen above the elevator. The conversation is stiff this morning, and all signs point to the beast next to me.

“It really is,” she tells me as the carriage reaches the lobby. The doors slide open and she gestures us forward. “Have a good day, Ms. Miller.”

I beam. “You too, Irene. Give that baby a hug for me.”

“I will.” She slides her gaze to Dare and frowns. “Have a good day, Mr. Richardson.”

He dips his head in acknowledgement, strutting into the elevator and resting against the back wall. I follow and give him my back, standing as far away from him as I can. The doors shut and my heart skips.

The carriage starts to rise. Unease tightens my chest with each level that passes. I blow out a hard breath and breathe deep, exhaling and trying to expel the nerves.

“You’re scared.” Dare’s voice rumbles through the small space, making me painfully aware of how close he is.

“Like you care.”

“Why?”

I glance at him, my eyebrows pressing together. “Because you don’t like me and I don’t like you.”

He shakes his head. “No. Why are you scared?”

My scoff is sharp enough to cut, but Dare simply waitsfor an answer, unaffected. “You know, for someone so pretty, you sure are dumb.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Dare places his hand on his chest. “Rose, I’m flattered.”

“You missed the insult.”

“Or I’m waiting for you to answer my question,” he fires back.

“Again, why do you care?”

Dare studies me, pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw. That’s what I thought. He doesn’t. And there’s no reason to share my thoughts with him. Facing forward, I focus on breathing and steadying my racing heart. We’re almost there.

I’m aware of Dare shifting closer, but I ignore him and the curiosity sparking in the back of my mind. Or I try to. When Dare wraps his arms around my middle and tugs my back against his chest, it’s a little hard to pretend like he doesn’t exist.

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