Page 8 of Ruthless Lord

“Good. I don’t either.” He takes a drink, still watching me, before slowly coming around the kitchen counter. “Alright, now it’s my turn to ask you something.”

“What’s that?” I face him, heart racing as he approaches, coming right at me. What a big, monstrous, beautiful man. There’s still a splatter of blood in his hair from where he wiped his hand.

“When this is over—” He lightly takes my hand and guides my glass to my lips. I take a little sip, thrilling over the strange gesture. “Are you going to brag to your country club friends about how you fucked a handsome stranger from the wrong side of the tracks?”

My eyes widen. My heart does a little stutter dance and my mouth immediately waters. “Who said I’m fucking you?” I whisper. This time, I reach out and push his glass up toward his lips.

He seems to like that as he drinks. “The way you’re looking at me.”

“We haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“And we never have to if you decide you want to leave.” He gestures toward the door. “It’ll never be locked.”

“Good to know, but I mean, I hope that’s a metaphor. This isn’t a great area.”

His laugh is low and soft. The sound rolls down the little hairs on the back of my neck. “You like being funny, don’t you?”

“Better than being boring.”

“It’s how you keep all this inside.” He puts a hand on my chest. Holy shit, it’s a simple gesture, not even on my breasts but near my heart, but it makes my breath come fast.

“That’s a really weird and presumptive thing to say.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” His hand moves up my neck toward my cheek. I let him touch me. I move a little closer, wanting him to touch me more, thrilling at the danger and the promise.

We’re dangling, suspended, still in the maybe-maybe-not. I’m not sure I want this and he’s not sure if I’m going to run screaming. I know he’ll fuck me senseless if I let him. And I know I’ll love it if I do.

Only I’m as terrified as I am excited.

I want to stay in this moment. It’s this exact feeling I’m always searching for. A break from the normal. A deep scar in the skin of my life. These moments are so rare and they don’t come around that often, and I’m afraid that once it’s over, I’ll be finished. No more excitement for me. Back to family, expectations, and a future already written down in memos and codified in contracts.

Stefano’s on the outside of all that. He’s dangerous and beautiful. This is a man who hurts people, apparently for fun.

He saved my life when he really didn’t have to get involved.

Now I’m in his beautiful apartment, afraid of where this is headed, but wanting it more than I’ve ever wanted in my life.

“Tell you what,” I whisper, barely audible over my own hammering heart. “Let’s make a deal. If you answer a question completely honestly, I’ll let you do what you really want to do.”

He licks his lips. “What do I want to do, baby?”

I’ve never been calledbabybefore. I always thought I’d hate it, but not coming from Stefano.

From him it’s like a promise. Like he’ll take care of me. Give me things. Make mefeel.

“You want to kiss me.”

He nods slowly. “Yes, I do. Ask your question.”

I take a long drink of wine. My glass is almost empty. “Why do you fight at the warehouse? It doesn’t look like you need the money and I’ve never heard of you before. So why did you compete tonight?”

His lips stretch into a vicious smile. It’s the kind of look that could tear me in half if I weren’t already gutted. He leans in close, invading all my personal space, crushing any chance of escape.

“You really want to know?” His thumb brushes my cheek. “I get in that ring, break my knuckles, and bleed, all forfun.”