I snorted. “Oh, you mean, can I keep my thoughts on the inside?”
“Something like that.”
I couldn’t be offended. I hadn’t exactly been gentle with my needling of him. The man kidnapped me. Sometimes my sass was enough to warn off even less committed assholes.
“Well, since you’re asking so nicely, I can play whatever you need. But I swear if you make me some simmering bimbo on your arm, I’ll put a stiletto through your eardrum.”
“Do you always threaten everyone with so much violence?”
“Only when they kidnap me and make me think they’re going to make me play a bimbo.” I waved at him in his crisp shirt and suit. “You wake up ungodly early and are more productive before breakfast than I am in an entire day. Men like you only date those sorts of women. What else would a woman on your arm be to you?”
His regard took a heavier quality. I refused to squirm under his roving gaze.
“What role would you like to play?” he asked.
Was there a double entendre under that question? Well... well... well. Mr. Proper had a flirty side. Most beautiful men did, but I appreciated it on Fin more somehow. The way his grin turned playful and his elegant hands steepled together as he waited for my answer.
“Why, Fin, I’m clutching my pearls on the inside.” I gave him a genuine smile, and for a moment his mouth flopped open. So worth it. “But in all seriousness. I’ll do whatever I need to do, to make this plan work. Even if it means straddling a pole and climbing into the bastard's lap. I’ll gut him with an erection if I have to.”
His lip curled up. “Please don’t hold back on my account.”
A soft knock interrupted our verbal sparring match, and I shifted to stare at the shrouded newcomer.
“Captain, come in,” Fin said.
A man strode into the room, and he skirted the desk to stand by Fin. His gaze was heavy and not in a good way. I stared back. I didn’t blink for toy soldiers.
“Miss, can I ask you to stand, please?” The captain said.
I narrowed my eyes. “What for?”
Fin stared at me now, too.
The captain gestured. “Please, ma’am. It’s come to my attention that you have brought several items you can use as a weapon in here.”
“Is there a rule about arming myself?”
He crossed his hands behind his back in the classic military at-ease stance. “There’s a difference in arming yourself and walking off with the silver.”
&nb
sp; Fin made a noise, and I slid my gaze to his. “I wasn’t trying to steal it.”
The captain gestured at me again, and I stood in a huff. When he waved his arm, I dragged the long sharp pair of scissors from the waistband of my jeans and put them on the desk. Then I added the ornate letter opener to the pile.
“Anything else?” Fin asked as he eyed what I’d placed on his desk next to my coffee.
I stared at the wall of books while I dug the butter knives from my boots. Then I fished into my t-shirt, right to my lackluster cleavage, and thunked a tiny screwdriver I’d found in my bedside table last night onto the pile.
I shoved both hands on my hips and glared at their shocked face. “What? I don’t enjoy walking around unarmed. Fin, you have men in pretty uniforms to keep you safe. I have myself.”
Fin snorted. The sunlight gleamed off his carefully tamed hair. I preferred him dressed more casually. “They are here to keep you safe too.”
“Psh... please, if it comes down to you or me, we both know Captain America here is going to pick you over me every time. You pay the bills. I’m the brat with a smart mouth.”
Fin gave me a reluctant nod, and I moved to grab the knives, but the Captain swooped in, took all my weapons, and marched out of the room.
“I don’t think he likes me very much,” I said.