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I swallow hard and wrap my arms tight around myself—as if trying to hold the pieces of me that he’s just cracked open. To remind myself why I can’t let down my guard.

“And this morning, when you said there are ‘walking red flags’ there, what did you mean?”

His mouth curls into a lazy smirk. “Bikers and vets and ex-cons. It’s a motorcycle clubhouse.”

My jaw slackens as I stare at him. I know jack shit about MC clubs beyond some over-the-top TV drama, but suddenly Cade’s tattoo—the flaming skull—makes sense now.

“You’ll fit right in,” he says casually.

I blink, torn between disbelief and offense. “Wait, you’re taking me to a club full of ex-cons, and you think I’llfitin there?”

Cade laughs, deep warm rumbles filling the room. “Come on, Luciana. We both know your taste runs a hell of a lot darker than the garden-variety criminal. Those guys? Piece of cake for you.”

Luciana. My heart stutters to a halt. Notprincess—his usual taunt—but my real name. The one only he calls me. The one that makes me feel like he sees beyond everyone else. Like he knows me.

Or so my stupid heart wants to believe.

I arch a playful brow, ignoring my pulse’s slow ascent. “You know, Cade, that’s the first time you’ve actually said my name when you weren’t talking to Saint.”

He drawls lazily, “That can’t be true.”

“Trust me, I’d remember.” And because I can’t resist, especially since he’s in such a rare, agreeable mood, I shoot him a look from beneath my lashes and settle against the table in a way that I know emphasizes the curve of my hip.

“Now, I was going to hang you out to dry for presuming to know my taste in men, but I’ll let it slide . . .” I drop my voice to a throaty purr. “Ifyou say my name again.”

Cade’s expression doesn’t change as he crosses one large boot over the other on the low coffee table. “No can do.”

“No?” My lips curve as I up the ante. “What if I begged?” I pull my lower lip between my teeth and twirl a lock of hair between my fingers.

“No, princess.”

“Come on, Cade,” I lean forward, making damn sure he can see my cleavage. “I’ll make it worth your while. Say my name, and I’ll—”

“Nope.”

“Don’t fucking interrupt me,” I snap.

That does it. Heat flares in his gaze, but he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he leans back and gestures for me to continue.

Now that I have the floor, my confidence wavers. My mouth opens, but nothing clever comes out. “Well, I was going to suggest . . . making you dinner.”

He snorts, utterly unimpressed. “Try harder.”

“Fine.” I throw my arms up. “One kiss.”

His eyes track me like a predator sizing up prey. “No.”

My jaw drops, caught somewhere between shock and disbelief. “No? Come on, Cade. I know you’re a bargaining man.”

The air shifts. The playful edge between us disappears, replaced by something heavier. Darker. A warning buzzes in the back of my mind, telling me to stop, to quit while I’m ahead. But I never back down from a challenge.

Cade gives me a slow once-over, saying nothing. Then he plants his feet on the floor, points to his lap, and issues a gruff command. “Hop on here and show me your piercings.”

Thesmirk falls off my face, replaced by the erratic thud of my pulse. Panic, heat, and something dangerous coil low in my belly.

The force of his will is like a wall closing in. I’m cornered. And he knows it.

My voice wavers. “I . . . anything but that.”