Page 87 of Pretty Little Threats

My breaths are shallow, but I hold his gaze, bravely facing his desire head-on and ignoring my own. “That all qualifies as harassment.”

“Good thing you’re my wife, not my employee,” he murmurs, lips coming fatally close to mine. “Soon, I’m going to fuck you until you regret holding out on me.”

Heart fluttering and stomach flipping, I fight to keep my emotions in check. “We’ll see,” I say sweetly. “Ready for lunch?”

He finally presses his lips to mine. The kiss is brief, but it’s enough to make me want to lose myself in all the filthy promises he’s making. “Come on,” he says after breaking the kiss. “You’re going to love this place.”

The rooftop bistro is new and the food is divine. Dare and I settle into our conversation, but unlike every lunch before, this one is lined with tension. His calf rubs against mine under the small table for two. Our fingers brush as we reach for our waters, eyes colliding over the rims of our glasses.

My eyes stray to the way his mouth closes around his fork.

He smirks and his dip to my lips.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

“If you’d look better between my legs or on your back,” I tease.

“Why not both?” His foot brushes my calf under the table.

My heart skips. God, this man is potent.

But then my dad walks in and his presence is like a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head. My stomach drops and I tuck my hands into my lap, hoping he can’t sense this thing between me and Dare. Dad’s gaze meets mine and his eyebrows crinkle. Then he spots Dare and they draw down. My breath catches at the pure rage that morphs my father’s features.

Why does he hate Dare so much?

Dad marches over, leaving his lunch companion to trail after him. The man is dressed to impress, but I don’t recognize him. I usually know the latest deal that Dad’s entertaining. I can’t take it personally; my attention has been a little divided.

Dad stops beside our table. “Rosalynn.”

I beam at him. “Dad. Hi.” As I start to rise to give him a hug, he holds up his hand to stop me. A frown flickers across my face, but I quickly hide the disappointment.

Dare narrows his eyes at me.

“Why am I not surprised you two found out about this place?” Dad shoots Dare an annoyed look.

“When I heard you funded a restaurant, I knew I had to check it out.”

“This place is yours?” I glance around again. Dad has never talked about a restaurant. It’s not in the business model. It’s not even in the financial realm. And, all things considered, restaurants usually aren’t a good investment. Not to mention, if he funded it, the restaurant had to have months of construction to open.

Why would he keep that from me?

A knife of betrayal embeds in my back, right alongsidethe others he’s placed there in the last month alone. Eric. The marriage. Now this?

Dad sighs. “I emailed you about it, but it appears you’ve been too busy.”

I bite my tongue. There was never an email. While I have been at Vista Holdings more than JD Miller & Co lately, this was the agreement. He knows why I’ve been busy. The words are meant to shame me in front of his companion and Dare.

“Who’s your little friend?” Dare asks, taking a sip of his water and grinning as the man bristles.

Dad’s jaw clenches. “This is John Yornson, the head chef.”

“The judge’s son?” My gaze slips over the man again. Funding a judge’s son’s restaurant is...a decision. Dad does nothing without motivation. Is he being sued? Is the company? Would he really try to influence a judge? My eyes move back to Dad. He gives me nothing but an accusing look, as if I’m the one keeping secrets.

“Enjoy your lunch.” Dad turns and leads John away.

Dare watches me watch them walk away. Once they take their seats, my attention slices in his direction. “What the fuck was that?” I snap. “You could have warned me.”

“Would you have believed me?” he asks.

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