Page 45 of The Bratva Betrayal

Testing her reactions.

Her limits.

Seeing how close I can get before she pushes me away for real.

“Maybe,” I murmur, “I’m seeing how guilty you feel about dating my brother.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning… you don’t act very interested in Misha.”

The air changes again, but she still plays the sweet little Irish girl who was attracted to the playboy Russian.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“You keep saying that like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

Her eyes flash. “You don’t know anything about my relationship.”

“I know you look at me too long for someone happy with my brother.”

Cady crosses her arms beneath her chest, and the motion nearly destroys what’s left of my self-control this morning. “You’re unbelievably arrogant.”

“I’m observant.”

“And you think every woman wants you?”

“No.” I lean in close enough to smell the sweetness from the fruit on her fingertips mixed with her perfume. “Just the ones pretending they don’t.”

A flush creeps slowly up her throat before she turns away, grabs her bowl of fruit, and carries it toward the opposite side of the island.

“You are not coming with me today,” she says firmly.

“I am.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m going shopping with a friend.”

“Sounds thrilling.”

She stabs her fork into a strawberry. “Go terrorize someone else.”

“I am terrorizing someone else.”

That earns me a glare. “Does that make you hard?”

She has no idea.

“Are you scared that I’m going to find out that you wear pink panties or something?”

“I think you’re bored.”

I wish.

Cady Gallagher walking into my life carries enough problems to keep me entertained for months.