Page 15 of Ruthless Redemption

Now, though, her breathing is calm. Measured. The only sign I’m having any effect on her is the wash of goose bumps that awaken under my gaze.

“I’m fine.” Her civility wavers, her tone gaining a hint of annoyance.

“Are you sure?” I gradually return my attention to hers with a slight lick of my lower lip. I don’t need to pretend I’m attracted to her.Temptedby her. That part of our relationship never held a hint of deception. “I could give you something to wear.”

She grows an inch with my offering.

Are you handing over another pawn,amore mio?

She lowers her focus to my jacket and gives a subtle clearing of her throat before returning her gaze to my face with the Stepford act falling back into place. “That would be appreciated.”

I lock my jaw, determined not to cluck my tongue as I steal her rook.

She came out here ready to instigate war and backtracked before swords clashed.

“Like I mentioned earlier, you only had to ask.” I place down my fork, then slide a hand over my tie to slowly loosen it from around my neck.

She watches with interest, eyeing my shirt, no doubt anticipating the rich fabric resting against her shoulders. Would she appreciate my scent against her skin, too?

She remains still, her brows furrowing as I raise the tie over my head and slide it toward her.

“You’re welcome,” I purr.

I witness the moment my intent sinks in. When she realizes the only clothing I’ll afford her is a thin slip of fabric.

Her tightly restrained anger is a work of art.

A masterpiece.

Her cheeks hollow. Her lips lose their color. She reaches for her fork, her fingers white with the tightness of her grip.

Go on,amore mio. Bite. Sink those teeth into me. Let me have your rage.

“I don’t understand the hesitation?” I drawl. “You wanted something to wear, so put it on.”

Her glare is gradual. From picture-perfect princess to viperous hellion in long, stretching heartbeats. She raises her feral stare, nailing me with undiluted fury. “I changed my mind.”

“Put it on, Layla.” I add an edge of malice to my tone. I’m more than happy to do this her way. We can fight, then fuck, then put this bump in the road behind us. “Now.”

She doesn’t move. The only action she takes is to narrow her eyes, intensifying her hatred.

“Interesting.” I reach into my suit jacket, pull my cell from the inside pocket, and place the device on the table. “After sauntering out here in your current state, I thought you were willing to do whatever it took to speak to your daughter.”

“You’re a fucking bastard.”

I shrug. “And you’re a tempting goddess. We use what we have.” I slide my fork into the pasta and twist. “Now put on the tie.”

Her evil eyes attempt to burn me to the ground as she glares and glares and glares some fucking more. I’m sure she’s about to grab her bowl and lob it at my head when she snatches the slip of fabric from the table and tugs it over her head, muttering a string of unintelligible delight under her breath.

She’s gorgeous when outraged. Turbulent and unpredictable.

She might not realize it, but I’ve never cared for her more than I do right now. I’d protect this spitfire with my life. I’d carve her name into my skin to let the world know she owns every inch of me.

The tie settles between her breasts as she gathers her hair out from beneath the material and resettles the strands behind her back, her glower pinning me the entire time.

“It looks good on you.” I grin. “Now eat.”

“No, thank you,” she grates.

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