Page 108 of Seducer

“I should hate you. Or at minimum, I shouldn’t trust you or anything you say.” She took several steps further inside, mindful of the stilettos she’d never worn. The tall heels accentuated her long legs exquisitely.

“That much I can completely understand. I wouldn’t trust me either. However, I sense you do. Would you like a drink, a glass of merlot? Or would you prefer coffee given the time?” Suddenly, thoughts of the game simply didn’t matter any longer. I enjoyed spending time with her, including in the diner.

My cock was so hard it was painful.

Yet anger lurked in the background.

A smirk on her face was her only answer. But she walked even closer, taking her time doing so. “After the night I’ve had, wine. I don’t think time has any real relevance in your world.”

I opened a fresh bottle, a vintage I’d selected for her from my private stock. She watched me intently as she’d done about every other action I’d taken. “No, it does not.”

“What about the game?”

“I don’t know at this point.” I would wait until I heard back from Christopher before making a single recommendation to my brothers.

“That’s a shame. Did the winner actually receive fancy cars and expensive homes? A job on the executive floor?”

Her questions further embroiled my senses, igniting a fire that would likely never be doused. “The winner of the game is a subjective choice, but it wasn’t officially started. At this point, I don’t think it will be a good idea to go forward with it.”

Sara was thoughtful, still struggling with everything I’d told her as I walked closer, handing her the drink. I had good reason to believe she might toss the wine in my face.

But she didn’t.

She grasped the wine with gusto, purposely allowing our fingers to touch. When they did, she offered a smile, lifting her gaze and locking eyes with me. The simple rub of her finger across mine was a powerful aphrodisiac and she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Be careful, my sweet kitten. I can read your mind.”

Her laugh lit up the room, my cock throbbing in response. She had that kind of effect on me. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“We need to talk.”

She’d never lost her verve, her lust for the game or for life. She’d created her own set of rules, ignoring those long since bronzed as part of the Obsidian legacy. No one had presented such a delicious challenge before.

“About my life. My past.” She looked away, thinking about whether she could trust me with everything that had occurred in her past. I wanted her to tell me, not the other way around.

“I have enemies just like you suggested. The entire company does. We’ve had other companies go to great lengths to keep us from succeeding including by use of embezzlement and threats to a vice president and the person in charge of production and design to betray us. They were dangerous people even though they hid behind a veil of corporate rules and wealth. Is it possible someone learned of my interest in you and decided to use you against me? Yes, but I honestly believe what you’ve experienced is personal and the rumors regarding the Obsidian Society were used to make you more vulnerable. People can stoop to very ruthless methods to get what they want.”

“You included.”

She could easily make me laugh. “Me included. However, if you do trust me on any level, you know I’m no longer playing the game.”

After taking a sip of wine, I heard her stomach growling from where I stood. She wrinkled her nose as she looked up at me. “You wouldn’t happen to have something to eat in that kitchen of yours. Would you?”

Why was her innocence the one thing that could easily keep me from turning completely into my darkness? “I think I can whip something up. Why don’t we go in and find out?”

Sara

“This is incredible. I didn’t know you could cook.” I was shocked that he’d whipped up a seafood pasta, using mostly fresh ingredients. He’d even had pasta he’d admitted to making stored in his freezer. The dichotomy of the man was even more charming. It was also disarming.

He took another bite before pushing his plate away. He’d been like the man in the diner, our conversation about anything and everything but the game. He also had yet to grill me about my past, allowing me to come to terms with whether I trusted him enough.

“It’s a passion of mine, although cooking for one can be both technically difficult and tedious. That’s why I often go out to eat.”

“Alone.”

“I enjoy being alone.”

“Do you really?”

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