The Bandit (The Stolen Duet 1) - Page 78

“I want us to have dinner together.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’ll starve you if you don’t.” I considered if it was smart to show her my hand, but she made it necessary to remind her why she should be afraid.

She glared, and I pretended I hadn’t noticed the way her chest rose and fell with each deep breath she took. Besides, it was the fight in her eyes that captivated me. Like she could keep me from starving her if I wished.

“Golly gee, but they are both such equally repulsive choices.” She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and stuck her finger to her chin. “However, starving does not agree with me, so I guess I’ll have to accept your invitation.”

“You do me an honor,” I returned with equal sarcasm.

She opened those pouty pink lips to one up me, but I grabbed her around the waist, stealing her chance. She stiffened when I slid my hand across the small of her spine. My fingers tingled just as she shivered, and then our gazes met.

She felt it, too. She had to.

With her face upturned, I couldn’t ignore how she licked her lips. Everything—dinner, seduction, revenge—it all fled, leaving only one thing behind…

I pulled her into me.

She had nowhere else to go.

Lust had already clouded her judgment.

She was mine.

“Angel?” She sounded uncertain.

My shirt shifted under her fingers as she clenched the material. Her breathing was no longer steady. It shook along with her body, and I wondered how fast I could melt Mian’s ice.

“Angel,” she groaned.

This time, I answered. My lips took hers, and I swallowed the surprised gasp that escaped. My little bandit pushed to get away until I growled. Her whimper of defeat was muffled, but my dick still felt it.

Slowing the kiss down, I nudged gently at her lips until they parted and then I waited. Her nails dug into my chest now, urging me on.

Perhaps she was confused.

I fought my smile and took pity. Licking slowly across her plump bottom lip, hinting at what I wanted and waiting for her to take the bait.

She stiffened. But just as quickly, she softened, gave in, and timidly she offered her tongue. I felt it brush my lips briefly as it sought out mine.

Check fucking mate.

I pushed her away. “Did you learn that in the strip club or spreading your legs for money?”

“Excuse me?”

“I know you work for Caesar?”

“Who the hell…” she trailed off. “You think I’m a stripper?”

“And a prostitute. You saying you aren’t?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t work for Caesar.”

‘Then why were you in his club? I know it wasn’t for the entertainment.”

“How did you know I was in his club?”

“You didn’t think I’d let you go without keeping an eye on you, did you?”

“Stalker,” she hissed.

“Why were you in his club?” She crossed her arms and stared. “It wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

“If you must know, I was looking for work.”

“And you thought fucking was constructive?”

“I didn’t know that was part of the job description.”

“Bullshit.”

“I didn’t!”

“You have ears, don’t you? Even I’ve heard of Caesar’s back door dealings.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter because I didn’t get the job. I blew it.”

“Literally or figuratively?”

She shook her head with disgust. “I hate you.”Chapter Twenty-NineWhen death is knocking at your door, do you ignore it even if it has a key?

ANGELI stepped fromthe black town car that arrived without warning and made my way up the steps. I knew the call would come, but I was hoping I’d have more time and more answers. I had an hour car ride to prepare myself for this meeting and spent the last twenty minutes smoking when mymental pep talk failed.

Grey, the Knight butler, stood by the doors waiting to open them on my arrival. The Knight estate was a massive symbol of the wealth my family had stolen over generations. It was three times the size of my father’s home and a century’s worth of our family’s dark history. Only with the death of The Bandit was the estate inherited by the next in line. Since my father died before his time, it never passed from my grandfather.

Grey escorted me to my grandfather’s bedside. Alon Knight was seventy-five years old and required formality as a sign of respect. The butler announced my presence before bowing and taking his leave. I stared at the man who rejected weakness even as his body grew old for all to see. He sat ramrod straight, his white hair meticulously brushed, and his aging face relaxed with the impression that control was still his.

“I’m disappointed, Grandson. You should know better than to keep me in the dark.” He stirred his tea and took a sip. “The book is missing.”

“It is.” I wasn’t surprised he knew. He had eyes and ears everywhere, and I didn’t doubt one of his sources was among my men. He should only hope I never identify him because not even grandfather could protect him.

Tags: B.B. Reid The Stolen Duet Billionaire Romance
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