“Our word is good enough.”
“Perfect, love.”
“What do you want me to do? Anything could meananything.” I need to know. It’s never a good idea to agree to something you know nothing about. This is the kind of crazy shit that binds people into offering up their first-born child.
“How about I tell you what I want if I win?”
I sigh, tightening my grip around the stem of the glass. “But you know what I want. It’s fair I should know what you want, too.”
His brows arch with defiance, and he shakes his head. “Either we do this my way or not at all.”
The air between us crackles with tension. But the chance to keep the restaurant, to escape this contract, is right there within my reach. I have to seize that chance regardless of whatever ace Knox is keeping up his sleeves. “Fine. We do it your way.”
“Perfect.” A sly smile curves his full lips.
I stare at him for a beat and for the millionth time try to figure him out. There’s another question on my mind that I need him to answer. It won’t change my decision to go ahead with the game, but it would make me feel less antsy. “Why are you offering me this chance? You went through a lot of trouble to get us to this point. This is the sort of game that I definitely could win. That means you don’t get the payment for the debt or any compensation for what my father did.”
He drags in a slow breath, drinks the last of his wine, and sets the glass on the table. “Let’s just say I’m a betting man and I find you interesting, Isla Monroe.”
That right there… It wasn’t a compliment. This is the lion playing with his food before he devours it. The food. Aka me.
"Okay," I whisper, nodding slowly. “I guess I’m ready to play when you are.”
"Alright, love." His voice drops to that dangerous register that makes my pulse skip. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”
I drain the rest of my wine in one gulp, letting the alcohol burn away the last of my hesitation, then place my glass next to his.
"You first." If he goes first, I can see what kind of riddles he has in mind.
“Here’s your first riddle.” His eyes lock onto mine, glittering with dark amusement as he leans against the wall. “I have a tongue but never speak. I can move but have no legs. You can open me without a key. What am I?”
I stare at him, my mind racing through possibilities.A tongue but never speaks... something that moves without legs... can be opened without a key.
My first thought is it must be some kind of animal, but that doesn't fit. Animals with tongues do make sounds, even if they don't technically speak. And the part about opening without a key throws me off completely. What opens? A door? A box? But those don't have tongues or move on their own.
I think hard while Knox watches me with that infuriating patience, like he has all the time in the world to watch me struggle. The bastard is definitely enjoying this.
Think, Isla.Something with a tongue that doesn't speak. Something that moves but has no legs. Something you can open...
Think, think, think, think, think.
And then it hits me. Oh My God, it’s so obvious I almost laugh out loud.
A zipper.
It has to be that.
The tongue is the pull tab; it moves when you use it, and you can open it without needing a key. Simple. Almost too simple for someone like Knox, but maybe that's the point—he's starting easy to lull me into confidence.
"A zipper," I say, trying to keep the smugness out of my voice.
Knox's mouth inches into a slow, amused smile that makes my stomach flutter in the most annoying way possible. "Clever girl." There's something in his tone—part admiration, part condescension—that makes me want to slap him, but of course, I can’t do that.
“I suppose it was kind of easy.”
He rests his head against the wall and gazes at me. "I was wondering if you'd overthink it."
“Thank God I didn’t.”
