“Just forget it, okay?”
“Eat something and it’s water under the bridge.”
“Fuck you.”
I smile. “Are you offering?” I ask. “Because I might not say no.”
The last thing I’m expecting is for her cheeks to flush with color. The blush transforms her features and makes her look young and vulnerable for a moment. It’s extremely endearing.
“Am I embarrassing you, Renata?” I taunt.
She looks back to the ocean as though it can save her from this conversation. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she whispers.
“What am I trying to do?”
“You’re trying to distract me so that you can lower my guard and take advantage of me,” she meets my gaze for a fleeting moment. “But I’m onto you, Kian O’Sullivan. Predators comes in all different shapes and sizes.”
That fucking pisses me off. I’ll cop to being a lot of things. But a fucking predator? No, that’s not me. Never has been.
I slam my fist down on the table so hard that the glass of water by Renata’s side falls off the edge and shatters the moment it hits the ground. “If I were anything like the predators you’ve known in your life, you’d be worse than dead right now,” I snarl.
She rears back, and I see the fear zip across her eyes. But she recovers fast. “I’m not scared of you.”
“And why is that?”
She stops short, as though the answer hasn’t occurred to her.
“Admit it, Renata,” I press. “You’ve admitted it in part already. I’ve been the face inside your head for the last twenty years. Deep down, you know I saved you that day when I killed your father.”
She’s angry. I can tell by the tense way she’s holding herself. But the only reason she’s this angry is because I’m fucking right.
“I’ve spent my life hating you!” she hisses, planting her hands on the table and pushing herself up onto her feet. “Don’t twist that to mean something else.”
“And why have you spent your life hating me?” I demand.
“Because you killed my father!”
I wag my finger in her face and tsk. “Wrong. It’s because your brother taught you to. It’s because he’s brainwashed you into believing I’m the enemy—when he was the enemy all along.”
She shakes her head. “No. Stop it. Get the fuck out of my head.”
If it weren’t for the obstruction of the table between us, we’d be nose-to-nose. I’m both angry and turned on. Which seems to be my permanent state of mind whenever I’m with Renata.
“If I’m in your head, little girl,” I snap, rising to my feet along with her, “that’s your fucking problem.”
She stares me down, the fire blazing in her eyes. She’s about to say something. But then she changes her mind. Instead, she grips the undersides of the table. I notice her knuckles paling slightly…
And then she flips the entire fucking thing at me.
I recoil back in time to avoid getting hit. Food and plates and cups go everywhere. It’s a cacophony of breaking glass, splattering food, the tablecloth flopping in the wind.
And in the midst of it all is her—those bright eyes so hot they could burn.
We stare at each other like that for a long moment. My fury peaks—and then quickly cools into hardened diamond.
“Guards!” I call coldly over my shoulder.
Her eyes dart from side to side. Clearly, she hadn’t noticed the two men skulking behind the greenery on either side of the boardwalk. They emerge soundlessly and approach her from either side.
Renata turns. “No! Get away from me. Both of you!”
They don’t listen, of course. They work for me.
She screams as they grab her. Her legs flail about as though independent from her body. She’s overpowered easily, but she still keeps fighting. Even as my men carry her down the boardwalk, she never stops.
What I should be thinking is, This girl is insane. Best to dispose of her at once.
But what I’m really thinking is…
What will I do with her now?