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His voice is thick and his hands are shaking, and holy hell, I’ve never felt this electric in my life. He makes me feel like I’m made of c***k cocaine. Like I’ve got fire running through my veins instead of blood.
Like anything is possible.
“Kage?”
“Yes, baby?”
Baby. I’m dead. “Tell me your last name.”
“Porter.”
“Thank you. Look at us, making progress already. Pretty soon, I’ll know all your darkest secrets.”
He lifts his head and gazes at me. My smile is happy and wide.
Looking very serious, he brushes my hair off my cheek. He says in a husky voice, “I’ll have to make you fall in love with me before I tell you all my darkest secrets.”
“Make you fall in love with me.” He keeps upping the ante in this conversation. I thought I was dead ten seconds ago, but now I’m buried six feet underground.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“So you won’t leave me…even though you’ll want to.”
As I stare deeply into his eyes, my smile fades. A hot, prickling sensation, like a current of electricity, runs through me. The ground seems to be shifting underneath my feet.
I whisper, “So either don’t tell me your secrets or don’t make me fall in love with you. Because once I fall in, even death can’t make me fall out.”
He stares at me long and hard, his jaw working. When he finally speaks, his tone is curt.
“Two things.”
“Which are?”
“Number one: I’m gonna make you fall in love with me. It’s not even a question.”
I huff out a small, astonished laugh.
The nerve of this man. On behalf of feminists everywhere, I want to tell him to stick his arrogant assumptions up his ass.
But also…wow. Just wow.
Because I know it’s the God’s honest truth. He is going to make me fall in love with him.
And I don’t think there’s anything I can do to stop it from happening.
He says, “Paired with the fact that I won’t lie to you, that means I’ll be keeping a lot of information to myself. Consider this fair warning.”
I close my eyes and exhale. “God, you’re intense.”
“Number two.”
When he stays silent, I open my eyes and look at him. He’s gazing back at me with a hard, flinty look in his eyes, like the thought of something is really pissing him off.
I think it’s me, until he says, “He didn’t deserve you.”
Surprised by that, I laugh. “We weren’t really together. I mean, we only dated for like eight weeks—”
“I don’t mean Deputy Dipshit.”
He’s not talking about Chris? Then who else—
When I realize who he means, my heart skips a beat.
Seeing the expression on my face, Kage nods. “Yes. Your missing fiancé. He didn’t deserve the kind of loyalty you’ve shown him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean a woman like you, five years of your life spent waiting?” He shakes his head as if in disgust. “No man deserves that.”
“Believe me, if I could’ve turned it off, I would have. I guess I’m just a loyal kind of girl.”
“So it’s not over? You’re still in love with him?”
He looks at me so closely, I feel like he sees right down into all the hidden corners of my soul.
I whisper, “It’s over. You know how I know?”
“How?”
“Because if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t feel any of the things I feel for you.”
His gaze searches my face. He’s tense and silent, unmoving, until finally he releases his breath and presses a rough kiss to my lips.
“Good,” he says gruffly. “Because I don’t f*****g share. Now let’s go get dinner before I tear you out of that dress.”
He takes my hand, I grab my coat from the kitchen chair, and we drive to the restaurant.
We check our coats at the door. A hostess tells us the other members of our party have already arrived and leads us to our table.
The moment we walk into the main dining room and Kage spots the three men sitting with Sloane, I know it’s going to be an interesting night.
I’ve seen his eyes go black before, but this is something else altogether.
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n true Sloane form, she looks fantastic. She’s wearing a short, tight white dress that exposes acres of cleavage and a pair of red f**k-me stiletto heels that show off her legs.
The men with her all wear identical black suits with white dress shirts and black ties.
They’re all young and well built. They all have dark, slicked-back hair. I can’t tell whose gold watch is bigger.
If it wasn’t for the matching tattoos on their knuckles and the backs of their hands, I’d think they were stockbrokers.
Or morticians.
“You okay?” I ask Kage, standing stiffly beside me in the entrance to the dining room.
He stares so hard at the three men, I’m surprised they don’t explode.
He says, “You know them?”
“No. I’ve never met any of them before. Why?”
“Because they’re trouble.”
But not too much trouble for him to handle, apparently, because he’s already pulling me toward their table.
When Sloane spots me, she grins and waves. The men surrounding her look over at us.
Then something strange happens.
Upon laying eyes on Kage, every one of them falls perfectly still. Their eyes sharpen. Though none move a single muscle, they gain an edge to their posture, as if poised to fight.
“Um…Kage?”
“No matter what happens, let me handle it. You’ll be fine.”
“Why do I feel like we’re walking into a lion’s den?”
His chuckle is dark and humorless. “We’re not. They are.”
- Writer
