Page 35 of Dark Lover

His gray eyes gleamed. “Care to see fer yourself?”

Did he have to make everything a sexual invitation? “Or you could change your mind, take the high road and give the United States government the page.” She was joking, but she wanted to know where he’d stashed it.

He smiled with amusement. “And what would I gain from handing over the page?”

“Self-respect?”

He sipped the wine. “I don’t care about self-respect.”

Did he mean he did not respect himself? She couldn’t imagine anyone living with themselves that way.

“I’m sorry ye got hurt today,” he said softly. “I didn’t think you’d keep up with me.”

He’d lowered his voice into a bedroom murmur. It vibrated across her skin like a massage head. She took a breath, disconcerted, and smiled at him. “I’m rarely underestimated twice. I’ll bet you don’t do it again.”

“Never,” he said.

If he were just a bit less sexy, a bit less seductive, it would make her life a whole lot easier, Sam thought. And if he hadn’t been a captive for all those decades, that would be helpful, too, because there’d be no excuse for his asocial and selfish behavior. She studied him, her gaze searching, and he calmly walked into the living room and sat down on her sofa. He looked really good there. He also looked somewhat pleased—like a lion in its den, about to feed.

His charismatic presence took up most of the room.

She took the adjoining chair, almost doing the Sharon Stone thing as she crossed her legs. He sat up straighter. “Are you sure I can’t entice you into doing the right thing?”

He slowly smiled. “Ye can try, Samantha. Any time…any way.”

Sam smiled back at him and let a heavy silence fall. “Would you consider doing the right thing—if I gave you what you want?”

He grinned, amused. “You’d surrender so easily? I’d be disappointed.”

“I’m pretty good,” she said, certain he’d never hand over an item worth over two hundred million dollars for a roll in the sack with anyone.

“An’ what would ye do if I said I accept?”

The breath rushed out of her. A fist of desire went through her, and she stared at him in shock.

“I’m tempted. But two hundred million dollars is also tempting.”

She breathed. “If you give me the page and it’s checked out to be the real deal, I’ll sleep with you. More than once. Anyway you want.”

He stared, his eyes like smoke.

Sam tried not to think about what he might require in that deal. She stared back, trying not to appear aroused.

He broke the silence. “Yer a woman of yer word.”

“Wow—you trust me.” He didn’t reply and she knew he was thinking about a hundred different ways to get his money’s worth. “I don’t trust you, by the way.”

He gestured at the sofa beside him. “Are ye afraid to sit next to me?”

“This isn’t a date, is it? Or do we have to hold hands? Because as far as I can tell, we haven’t made a deal.”

“We haven’t made a deal.” He smiled slowly then. “I want ye an’ I want the money, too. I intend to have both.”

Sam stood. “No surprise there.”

He stood. “I thought we broke the ice last night.”

She couldn’t believe he was referring to last night, considering his breakdown. And then she told herself sternly to stop underestimating him. His MO was becoming obvious. He was adept at keeping the upper hand and keeping her off balance. He used sex as a weapon in their battle, all of the time. But two could play that game.