Page 39 of How to Play the Player

Instead, my mind replays last night at the Brick on an endless loop. Nathan’s hand at the small of my back. The heat of his body as we swayed to the music. The way his eyes had darkened when he pulled me closer. The moment when our lips were a breath apart before reality intruded.

“Focus, Quinn,” I mutter to myself, shuffling the papers for the fifth time. This contract is too important to jeopardize over an almost kiss with a man who still believes I’m a villain.

My computer stutters mid-document, the cursor freezing before the screen fades to darkness. Again.

“Seriously?” I jiggle the power cord, but the screen remains stubbornly dark. With a frustrated sigh, I restart the machine, drumming my fingers impatiently against the desk as the device struggles to come back to life.

A knock at my office door provides a welcome distraction.

“Please tell me that’s coffee,” I call out.

Lyla stands in the doorway, two steaming cups in hand and a knowing smile on her face. “Coffee, yes. And we need to talk about last night.”

I accept the cup gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma. “What’s there to talk about? You were there.”

“I was,” she confirms, settling into the chair opposite my desk, kicking off her heels and tucking her feet beneath her. “And I had a front-row seat to that slow dance with Nathan. Looked more like foreplay than anything professional.”

Heat creeps up my neck. “It was just a dance. For appearances’ sake.”

“Right.” Lyla’s skepticism couldn’t be more apparent. “For the record, no guy looking at you like he did would ask you to dance just to save face. And was the way he looked at you like he wanted to fuck you right there and then also for appearances? Fess up and don’t you dare leave a single detail out.”

“Nothing happened,” I technically lie. While nothing physical happened between us, I can’t necessarily deny to myself something would have happened.

She raises an eyebrow. “That’s definitely not what I saw.”

I sigh. “Okay, so we almost kissed during the dance. So what? Nothing happened. The song changed before anything could. So end of story.”

Lyla leans forward eagerly. But before she can retort, my computer chooses to come back to life, momentarily distracting me from Lyla’s interrogation. “I swear, this damn thing is driving me crazy.”

“This is cute and all, but stop avoiding the subject,” Lyla says. “This is big news. And you’re treating it all like a footnote. What about the bet?”

The bet? Ugh, as if I didn’t need reminding.

A reckless, impulsive challenge that’s becoming more dangerous by the day.

“The bet stands,” I say firmly. “No rules have been broken.”

“Except that now you know he could still want you.” Lyla thinks she’s pointing out a fact when in reality she’s speculating.

“How do you know he wasn’t watching me to make sure I didn’t betray his family again? What if that almost kiss happened because he’s trying to get me to lose the bet?” I counter, though the memory of Nathan’s arms around me invades my brain. “What matters right now is winning.”

“And what would winning really prove, Quinn? That you can resist a man you’re clearly still attracted to? Sure, that’ll show him.” I hear what she’s saying, but I don’t appreciate her sarcasm. She has a good point, however.

Whatwouldwinning actually accomplish other than to vindicate me? Nathan would grudgingly admit he had no proof of my betrayal, but would he ever believe in my innocence? Would clearing my name be enough for me even if he still harbored doubts?

Of course, it would be enough…right?

I push that thought away. “I’m trying to beat him at his own game. What better way to make him eat his own words than toget him to lose?” I pause, a new determination forming. “I’ve been approaching this all wrong.”

“Meaning?” Lyla asks for clarity.

“Meaning it’s time to raise my tactics.” I lean forward, my mind racing with possibilities. “I should’ve known he’d try to pull something like that, try to make me break first. I’d like to see how he handles being the one who’s tempted beyond endurance.”

Lyla must realize I’m dodging, because then she drops her line of questioning. “So what’s the plan?”

“I’m going to make Nathan Knight realize exactly what he’s missing. Push him right to the edge, and then walk away.” A dangerous strategy, but one with a certain poetic justice. “It’s time to play the player.”

Lyla laughs. “Based on that mischievous look on your face, he won’t know what hit him.”

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