Page 64 of The Daredevil

I slipped into my cotton pajamas, wishing I’d brought my sexy silk nightgown on the trip. But it was fall, so it was more practical to bring warmer clothing. Seducing a guy hadn’t been my plan until now.

After adding some leave-in-conditioner for my curly hair, I exited my bathroom to find my luggage near the bed. When I finished putting everything away, I went out to the living room to find some nature show on TV.

Sitting on the couch, Royce busied himself with his phone. He looked fresh and relaxed. His hair appeared toweled dry, which made it a shade darker. Wearing a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants, he stretched his long legs across the coffee table, crossed at the ankles. I swallowed the dryness from my throat at the captivating man blessed with such good looks.

Even in casual clothing, he looked just as delicious as he did in a suit. If Royce in a suit was escargot, then Royce in a T-shirt and sweatpants was a juicy burger that satisfied me. Smiling, I wondered what he’d think if I shared my comparison of him to food.

Food.

I sucked in a breath as the revelation dawned on me. I’d always been careful about what I ate and never saw food as something “fun.” It had consumed my psyche—pun intended—as a child, a teen, and a young woman. Even now, I had reservations about my eating disorder, which derived from so much more than food. But food was the tangible thing I could describe. And yet here I was, comparing Royce to it with no reservations.

My chest constricted, not from stress or anything negative but from a liberation that shook me awake. Royce had somehow released a chain that had trapped me. I blinked back the hot pressure building behind my eyes. God, I didn’t need to add another layer of confusion today. I accepted the liberating gift, which I would contemplate more on later. Right now, I had a desire that needed to be released.

I walked over. “Thank you for bringing the bags in.”

He stopped typing on his phone and turned to me. “You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”

“Better.” I sat down beside him, trying to plan my seduction. I’d never done anything like this. It both thrilled and scared me.

“Good, because I don’t like to see these worry lines on this beautiful face.” He rubbed the space between my eyebrows.

“You have them too.” I pressed my finger to his forehead.

He gripped my hand and held it. “That’s because I’m worried about you.”

All my playfulness disappeared, replaced by something so serious my heart hammered loudly. Could he hear it?

I looked into those green eyes. “Why?”

The green turned glacial, and the pupils darkened within seconds. “Because I care about you.”

Why was my throat dry again? “As a friend or as your girlfriend?” I didn’t dare say fake girlfriend because that word diminished my importance, and I didn’t like it.

A smile formed on his lips. “Both. If you hadn’t agreed to stay here with me, I would have made you.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to.” Grabbing a throw pillow beside me, I whipped it at his chest, but he blocked it swiftly.

“Wanna bet?” He grabbed the pillow behind him and taunted me.

What exactly did he believe he could make me do? This recent development shifted my plan to seduce him. My new scheme took root.

“I’m game. What are we wagering?”

“The loser has to answer a question truthfully or do one thing he or shefearsbut wants to do.” That arrogant smirked enticed me more than it should.

I had questions for him, and I was certain he had questions for me. What I feared but wanted to do was exactly this:seducehim. I had other worries, but this particular one—this person—had overwhelmed me, and I had to resolve it by facing the issue. Perhaps then I could move on and concentrate on the job I was hired to do here. Not that I wasn’t performing well or getting my work done. I just couldn’t get him out of my mind.

“I’m game,” I said. “Since you thought of the rules,I’llpick the game, and it comes with one more little rule: the first one to get three whacks in the head from the pillow loses.”

“Fine.” His mouth moved in a smile.

I jumped up from the couch, rushed to the armchair, and grabbed the biggest pillow. “Do you dare have a pillow fight with me? Or are you afraid?”

“One must overcome one’s fear in order to be victorious.” He whipped the pillow at me, but I blocked it with my massive pillow.

A silly pillow fight ensued, with me running around the living room screaming and laughing. He snatched several throw pillows and pitched them at me, one by one. He was quick, and I ducked and dodged while trying to block the flying pillows from hitting my head. I didn’t get a chance to whack him at all.

“How do you like that, hmm?” he said.

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