Page 86 of Captive Audience

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I want to know why you went quiet as soon as I dragged your feet into my lap.”

As if the jerk didn’t already know.Because I liked it too much. Because you make me feel things I don’t want to feel.

But I could never voice that. If I softened even an inch toward this man, I’d be done for. “It was unnerving. Have you ever been given a foot rub by a gangster before?”

He frowned. “I sincerely hope that’s not a serious question.”

I pressed my lips together to stifle my grin when a ridiculous scene played out in my head.

“What?” Rook asked.

“It’s nothing.” A laugh bubbled out of me. “It’s just that now I can’t stop thinking about you and your scary Mob buddies giving each other foot massages.”

“Oh, aye.” Somehow, he kept a straight face. “That’s what we do during our meetings. Sit in a circle and play with one another’s toes while discussing important Mob business.”

“Must be why you’re so good at it. All that practice on big, hairy feet.”

“Is that right? Better give me another go, then, eh?” Rook tickled my foot, his other arm wrapped around me like a band of steel.

“No!” I cackled and squirmed in his lap. “No tickling, please!”

But he didn’t relent. He flipped me onto the sofa and pinned me beneath him while taking turns tickling my ribs and my feet.

“Do you surrender?” he asked with wicked glee.

“Yes,” I wheezed, swatting at his hands. “I surrender.”

Rook eased up until we were both staring at each other, breathing heavily.

His hands landed on the sofa on either side of my head. “Well, if I’d known you’d give in that easily, I’d have used tickle torture days ago.”

“Nobody’s that cruel. Not even you.”

He froze, and his smile faded into something softer. “Fuck me,” he whispered. “You’re breathtaking.”

I sighed and turned away. “Rook.”

“I know. You still hate me.”

I faced him again. “It’s not that. I mean, it is, but also—” I sighed deeply. “It’s complicated.”

“Are you unhappy?”

God, how did I answer that? “Not fundamentally. I’m frustrated because this marriage and investigation have been forced upon me. I miss my autonomy. I hate lying to my friends and not being able to see them whenever I want. Mostly, I’m struggling with the way my life is spinning out of control.” I shook my head. “Have you ever felt that way before?”

Rook’s expression turned somber. “Aye. When Niall died. Everything spiraled after that. I was in a dark place until—” He glanced away, unwilling to meet my eyes.

“Until what?”

Slowly, his gaze came back to mine. “Until I found you.”

Thatwas what had pulled him from despair?

Rook had foundCaptive Audience, developed an unhealthy interest in Inferno, and then learned everything he could about me.

He hadn’t stopped there.