Page 153 of Crushing Clover

“How do you know it wasn’t the kraken that lives at the bottom of the pool?” he teased, treading water next to me.

“You’re a menace.”

He moved closer, and I moved back until I ran out of room. The wall of the pool trapped me, and I slid sideways along it until he caged me between his arms.

“You’re only cranky because you got dicked awake this morning.”

“I had to pee!”

“I let you go pee.”

“After you were done!”

His gaze was filled with mirth. “You expect me to resist this first thing in the morning?” he asked, pressing himself against me. Now, his dick was hard. He adjusted it, so it was pressed between us.

I looked up into his face, and I could feel myself smiling. When he was in one of his rare, silly moods, my heart couldn’t resist him.

His grin went from sexy to something softer. Dark eyes scanned my face, studying my expression, then fastening on my lips. When he leaned in to kiss me, I held my breath, warm sentiment flooding through me, even though I tried to stop it. Our lips touched, and he brushed his back and forth, then along my cheek to my ear, planting a kiss on my neck.

“Are you finally falling in love with me, Clove?” he whispered there, making me lean into him despite myself.

I knew better than to answer.

Chapter 31

Warren’s dining room was as intimidating as his office.

I’d assumed I’d never be back in Saint’s father’s house, but for some reason all four of us had been expected at this awkward, stuffy meal. This was supposedly to celebrate the guys making their last payment on Cygnet, but it felt anything but celebratory. Warren’s soliloquy on business droned on, and several times I fantasized about stabbing him in the eye with my fork.

For Saint, though, I could sit through this and pretend Warren was a stranger, and not an old man who’d bought me at an auction and banged the hell out of me before handing me over to his son.

At my right, I could almost feel Lucky’s impatience.

“Can we go home yet?” he whispered to me in a voice so low, there was no way Warren could hear him. Even so, Warren had to see him whispering. On my best behavior, I didn’t respond, keeping my attention on my plate and Warren’s words, in case there was a quiz later.

I wanted to go home, too, right after kicking the old man in the nuts.

It was hard not to worry that any time now, the topic might turn to me. If Saint was planning to hand me over to his father tonight, Lucky didn’t seem to know about it.

Servants bustled in and out, removing dishes and refreshing drinks.

I adjusted one of the shoulder straps on my little black dress, and took a small sip from my water glass, not trusting the wine.

Warren’s speech had moved from business buyouts to home foreclosures—while the rest of us finished our meals and occasionally gave each other the side-eye.

By the time we moved into Warren’s office, I was ready to club him over the head with the fireplace poker, if only to get a moment’s peace.

It felt like I’d met Saint in this very room only days ago, but it also felt like I’d been with the three of them forever. I glanced at Saint, wondering if he was thinking about that day, too, but all his attention was focused on his sperm donor.

“The last of the money,” Saint said when Warren stopped talking long enough to pour himself a drink. He tugged an envelope out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and smacked it down on the desk.

“Most restaurants don’t even break even for the first few years,” Warren grumbled. “Stupid business to go into.”

“We’ve made enough to pay you back. I wouldn’t say we’re doing too bad for ourselves.” Saint looked completely unaffected, even though Warren and his know-it-all attitude was obviously getting under his skin.

Forty-five minutes later, as Warren continued to pontificate about business, I excused myself and headed down the hall toward a bathroom I remembered from the time I’d spent here.

Being in the same house as Warren was making me ill, and listening to him preach at my guys about business, as though they didn’t know what they were doing, was aggravating.

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