CRAVING THE WRONG MAN

DANGEROUS PLAY

MIA~

Rhett's entire expression changes.

The amusement disappears first, followed by whatever small trace of softness had been sitting behind his eyes. What replaces it is darker, harder to read, and suddenly I am painfully aware of what I have just asked.

I am standing in front of a man who could know more about my father's death than he has ever admitted, a man who has neither confirmed nor denied Saint's accusation, and I have just asked him to make me his old lady.

Great, Mia. Just great.

“Mia.”

Something about the way he says my name makes my stomach tighten. When I meet his eyes, there is a faint curve at the corner of his mouth, but it carries none of the warmth I saw earlier. It looks too dangerous.

“Do you even understand what you're asking for?”

His voice is calm, but the question settles heavily between us.

I look away for a second, mostly because I suddenly need somewhere else to put my eyes, and that is when I hear the quiet scrape of his boots against the concrete.

When I look back, he is walking toward me.

Earlier, I had been bold enough to cross the distance between us myself, but watching him close that same distance makes my confidence feel considerably less impressive. I instinctively move backward, and his gaze drops briefly to my feet before returning to my face.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “You were very brave a minute ago.”

“I still am.”

“Are you? Then why are you backing away from me?”

I lift my chin. “Because you're too intimidating.”

A low chuckle leaves him, and there is something almost boyish about the sound despite the dangerous man standing in front of me.

“At least you're honest.”

“Well, you asked.”

“I did.” His gaze lingers on me. “And apparently honesty is something you have plenty of when it comes to asking me to do things that could get you killed.”

Despite myself, I almost smile.

Then the reality of why I really want this settles over me again.

I need somewhere Saint cannot reach me. But more importantly, I need to protect my baby.

Whatever Rhett is hiding, whatever connects him to my father's death, we can take slow steps with that soon. But right now Black Reign is powerful enough to keep me safe for now.

If becoming Rhett's old lady is the price, then I will pay it.

“Besides being Saint's brother and the president of Black Reign,” he says, his voice becoming more serious as he approaches, “Do you know my other identities?”

I hesitate.

He watches me carefully.

“Or did you simply decide that because I hate my brother, I'd make a convenient shield and rebound for you?”

“I don't care about whatever else you are.”

That wipes the amusement from his face.

“I just want to be your old lady.” I say more firmly now.

His gaze stays on mine for several seconds before he asks quietly, “Even knowing what you believe about me?”

My chest tightens.“You mean my father.”

“Yes.”

“You are a suspect in my father's death. And you never denied it.”

Rhett's expression becomes unreadable. “Neither did I confess to it.”

“That doesn't make me believe you're innocent.”

“I never asked you to because I'm not”

The answer catches me off guard.

He comes to a stop directly in front of me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back slightly.

“You know what you're doing?” he asks.

“I do.”

“No, Mia. You're making a deal with a man you don't trust because you're hurt by a man you did trust. Those are not the same thing as knowing what you're getting yourself into.”

“I know enough.”

“Then tell me what being my old lady means.”

“I'll learn the rest.”

His jaw tightens slightly. “That's not good enough.”

“Then tell me.”

For the first time, something like frustration flickers across his face.

“Being mine would not be some convenient little arrangement that protects you until Saint gets tired of looking. Black Reign isn't Night Saints. We don't operate the way your husband's club does. If you take that position, you're attached to everything that comes with it. My business, my enemies, my name, my people, and every problem that comes looking for me and most importantly.” He stops “My needs”

My pulse picks up.“And if I can handle it?”

“Then you better be certain you're not saying yes simply because you need somewhere to hide.”

That earns me a quiet breath through his nose, almost like he cannot decide whether to be amused or annoyed.

“You really don't know when to quit.”

His gaze settles on my face again, and his voice lowers.

“You're really asking me to put you under my protection publicly. Do you understand what that means in my world?”

My breath catches.

Rhett's attention drops briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes.

“And if somebody tries to hurt you because they know you're mine?”

“I'll deal with it.”

His mouth twitches.

“That answer is exactly why I think you're either incredibly brave or completely reckless.”

I smile despite myself.

He notices. That look in his eyes changes again.

“Don't smile at me like that.”

“Why? Affecting you much?”

I glance at his mouth before I can stop myself. Heat crawls over my skin.

The words surprise even me.

Then a slow smile appears on his face.

“I haven't convinced myself to behave around you.”

My heart gives a hard, unexpected beat as he said that.

I stare at him.

He shakes his head with a quiet laugh, as though he cannot believe he said it aloud.

“You really want to know what you're getting yourself into? You're standing in front of the answer.”

My breath catches.

He lifts one hand and gently brushes his fingers beneath my chin, tipping my face upward. The tenderness of the gesture almost undoes me because it does not match the man everyone else seems to fear.

“You think I'm dangerous,” he murmurs. “You should.”

His thumb moves slowly along my jaw.

The space between us seems to disappear without either of us moving.

His gaze drifts to my lips again, and this time I do not pretend not to notice. My pulse is so loud I am certain he can hear it. I should be thinking about Saint. About my father. About the baby. About everything that could go wrong.

Instead, I am thinking about what it would feel like if Rhett stopped holding himself back.

He lowers his face slightly.

My breath trembles. “You have no idea what I can do to you here, do you Mia?,” he asks, his voice all husk and heavy.

My voice comes out softer than I intend. “Maybe I want to know.”

His eyes hold mine. “That,” he says quietly, “is a dangerous thing to tell me.”

“Why?”

A quiet low chuckle leaves him, but there is no humor in it now.

His hand remains beneath my chin while his other arm settles lightly around my waist, careful of my injury but still enough to make every nerve in my body wake up.

I should be nervous.

I am.

But underneath that nervousness is something I have not allowed myself to feel since Saint.

Rhett's face lowers another inch down, I can feel his breath against my lips.

My eyes almost fall shut. For one suspended second, I am certain he is going to kiss me.

Then he stops.

The warmth disappears from his expression as his gaze drops.

Not to my mouth.

To my hands.

I realize too late that I have wrapped both of them around my stomach again.

Rhett's eyes stay there with a slight crease. His body becomes completely still.

When he finally looks back at me, the teasing is gone from his face.

“You keep touching your stomach.”

My heart begins to pound for an entirely different reason.

He studies my face, then lowers his gaze to my hands once more.

“Did you get hurt there, Mia?”