Page 79 of House of Payne

He places a hand on the wall behind me and leans in close, reeking of cologne, tobacco, and whiskey. “Why don’t I believe you?”

I shrug.

I’m tempted to signal Miss Deveroux and have him taken care of, but I know it’ll only make things worse.

“Let’s say I don’t believe you. I assume you don’t want Noah to know, so how much are you willing to pay me to keep your secret?”

I stiffen. “I’m not going to pay you anything.”

Not just because I can’t afford to. Money won’t buy Steven’s silence.

His eyes flash with amusement. “Oh, you will. I doubt you want Noah to know he has a dirty little girl. It’s hot, don’t get me wrong, but Noah isn’t the kind of guy who would appreciate it.”

I scowl. “You mean the kind of man with integrity?”

Steven snorts. “Whatever you want to call it. You must be really bored if you wound up here.”

“Why I’m here is none of your business.”

His eyes sweep over me, lingering on my chest.

I want to punch him.

“It can be my business,” Steven whispers, grazing my arm. “Buying my silence isn’t just about money. We can come to another arrangement. I bet you’d even enjoy yourself.”

I shove his hand away and growl. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“I like it when they’re feisty,” Steven says, his eyes darkening. “I’mgoing to enjoy this.”

“Stay the hell away from me,” I warn. “I mean it.”

He arches a brow in my direction. “Or what?”

His hand darts out again, and I slap it away. A flash of surprise moves across his face before his expression hardens. I stagger back, my heart hammering.

Of all the people to run into, why did it have to be Steven?

As the son of an influential politician, and knowing how sleazy he is, I’m not surprised that he’s here, but I hate that he recognized me.

I never understood why Noah was friends with such a prick, and now that he won’t stop advancing on me, I like him even less.

Still, I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to me.

“I’m disappointed,” Steven admits as we stumble out of the hallway and into the main part of the club. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. It’s almost like you don’t want me to.”

“Screw you, Steven,” I snap. “You don’t know me.”

With a frown, I glance over the bar, but Miss Deveroux isn’t there.

No one on the main floor is paying attention to us, either.

No one is there to come to my defense.

“We can get to know each other really well,” Steven drawls, each word dripping with innuendo. “Trust me.”

I reach for the nearest weapon—a candlestick—and brandish it in front of me. “Don’t take another step.”

“I thought we’ve been over this.” Steven’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “I’ve got a room that I like to use, and you can even clean it after.”