Page 2 of His Twisted Game

“I’ll have to pass,” I said, raising the kamikaze, “but thank you. It’s kind of you.”

He stopped a passing server. “Whatever she’d like,” he said, motioning to me. I wasn’t going to object.

“Soda water with a splash of ginger ale and a lime squeeze,” I said. The server nodded and walked away.

“Enough for one night?” the man asked, amusement in his voice.

I tucked my hair around my ear. “I had a few too many.”

“I noticed.”

Those words sent shivers down my spine. How long had he been watching me?

“Do I know you?” I asked.

He leaned forward, resting on his elbows. “I’m curious. Why are you here?” he asked, ignoring my question. “Women like you rarely get out like this.”

I flinched. Women like me?

“Am I right?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye. My mouth opened. “So, tell me. What are you doing out tonight?”

I should have been playful, hinting at what I wanted, making him chase me for the promise of a good time. But I was tired, drunk, and impatient. I wanted to get to the point rather than pretend like I wasn’t in desperate need of release. Besides, he was good-looking, and I knew what I wanted.

“Honestly, I hoped I might find some physical action,” I said as matter-of-factly as possible.

His mouth opened subtly in surprised amusement. “Action? A good girl like you?”

“Good girls can be bad too.”

His eyes darkened, but that grin never left his face. It was like he was analyzing me, trying to figure out what my strategy was.

Why had I said that to him?

His eyes still focused on me. “What do you want? Besides the ‘action.’”

I blushed, but he winked, amusement simmering under the surface of his relaxed posture.What did I want?This probably wasn’t the answer he wanted, but hell, I had already been this honest with him.

I blurted it out: “I want my own library.”

His eyes fixated on me, mulling over my words. “Libraries are important pillars of the community.”

Finally,someone who understood me. “Exactly!” I said. The server brought my drink, and I took a long sip, staring up at him.

“So what would youdofor your own library?” he asked.

“Like, what lengths would I go?” I laughed. “Am I being interrogated?”

“It’s a simple question. What would you do for your own library?”

His eyes blazed down on me, and I hoped that this was his way of flirting. So I considered it. If I thought about it,reallythought about it, I didn’t know what Iwouldn’tdo for my own library. As long as I got a job as a doctor, I’d be able to volunteer at a branch, giving back to a system that had given so much to me.

“Would you do anything?” he asked, his voice smooth as glass.

“Yes,” I said. “Anything.”

A hint of malevolence shined in his eyes, like I had walked into a trap made personally for me.

“I can make that happen for you,” he said.