Page 48 of Merciless Heir

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Page 48 of Merciless Heir

He finishes his drink. “Of course I don’t. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Why do you really want to find the tiara?” I need to find familiar footing. A safe place. This seems about as safe as it gets.

“I told you.” He looks at me. “Money.”

“Truth.” I finish my drink and he refills it. I’m aware he’s a little tipsy, just at the edges, but I don’t make the mistake of thinking he’s any less dangerous than he usually is. I stop and consider my thoughts. Dangerous? Yes, he is, in ways I can’t quite define.

“And you?”

“Money,” I say.

He doesn’t drink. “This is where we both have a sip. Because I’m both right and you’re lying.”

“You’re drunker than I thought.”

“I’m not drunk,” he says. “You’re in it for money and thrills. Are you going to steal it?”

“You’re not playing fair.”

“Answer.”

“It’s my turn.”

“Answer,” he says, his voice soft.

Am I? Yes. No. I don’t really know. So I say that. “I don’t know.”

“Truth.” And he has another sip.

“Why did you really take me to your place?”

“To talk.”

I point at him. “Lie.”

He stares into his drink a moment, then at me. “Thing is, I keep fighting it, but…” Now he lifts those blue eyes to mine. “I want to kiss you, Sadie. Do you want me to kiss you?”

Everything stills. Then my heart starts to beat hard. “Yes.”

We’re not playing anymore. And I don’t know why I said that. I don’t like backing down from challenges, but I’m not stupid. I go to take a drink when his hand comes down on mine and he takes my glass from me. He’s so close his breath warms my lips.

And then he kisses me.

It’s soft, sweet, and almost not there and I crave more. This time, I return the favor, and his mouth is perfect on mine. Again and again we tease each other, my stomach swirling, dipping, flying and he makes a sound.

I don’t know what it is. A low thing, almost like a sigh. I might not know, but my body does, and it’s like a dam breaks within, and need and passion come tumbling out and I wrap my fingers into his shirt, bringing him in.

He kisses me, hot and urgent. Mouth open, tongue there, and I let him in. I kiss back with the same deep hunger. It sweeps through me. And kiss tumbles into kiss.

We’re wrapped about each other, his hand on my cheek, my throat, against the side of my breast and then my waist as we roll into each other.

I’m drowning, more of this and I’ll be naked in his arms and I’ll forget why I came here.

That’s the only reason I end the kiss.

Not fear or a dark wave of the prospect of losing myself in him, because like I’m going to do that.

Somehow, I find it in me to pull free, untangle from him.




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