“I don’t know if I like that. I never told him my name.”
Carrying a tub of sour cream, Knight’s eyes cut to me. “Your girl?”
That could be.
“Maybe,” I muttered.
“Speakin’ of her,” he started, reaching into a drawer to grab a spoon, “she needs to tone it down.”
“What?”
He glopped big spoonfuls of sour cream on the potatoes and then his eyes came to me. “You gotta advise her to tone it down. Seen her at my club more than once though never with you. She’s on the hunt. Makes men edgy. Makes her vulnerable. She’ll do what she’s gotta do to get what she wants and they know it. They also know what she wants. She opens it up right off the bat, they take what they want, throw the rest back and they throw the rest back because she gives the vibe they let her in even a little bit, she’ll suck ‘em dry. She needs to watch you, make your moves.”
“My moves?” I asked as he set the sour cream aside and went for the oven door.
“Yeah,” he answered, sliding out the grill pan.
“What are my moves?”
He answered as he put the thick, fillet steaks on the plates.
“The girl in the corner, surveying the scene, playing it cool. You don’t go to them. They come to you if they got the balls to do it which, my guess, they rarely do because they can’t hack not cuttin’ it and losin’ the promise of you. You’re the girl you take out to dinner. Get the good champagne. You pay her attention. Buy her some shit that softens her up and makes her happy. Then you hope all that sweet turns wild when you get her in bed.”
He saw me in the corner?
And he thought all that other stuff about me?
My throat felt clogged but I forced out, “Excuse me?”
His eyes came to me, brows raised. “Am I wrong?”
“Yes,” I answered immediately.
“Bullshit,” he muttered then went back to the fridge.
“Uh… Knight, I would know and you are.”
He didn’t answer. He just came back with a bowl of salad.
Then it hit me.
“Is this you paying me attention, softening me up in order to get me to bed?” I asked.
“You’ll be in my bed, Anya,” he told the plates as he mounded salad on them.
After the brief satin sheets discussion, I wanted to be.
Now.
Not so much.
“Sure of yourself,” I muttered, he turned with both plates and dropped them on the placemats.
Then he put both hands out wide, palms flat on the counter and leveled his eyes to me.
“One thing we got left that we gotta know is covered is that you suit me in bed. That happens, babe, you know there’s gonna be a you and me. Where that goes, anyone’s guess, but however it goes, there’ll be a you and me.”
Right, now he was a gorgeous, scary, psychopath who was genius at throwing out compliments however they came and unbelievably arrogant.