“You have note cards?”
“Yes, Mac found the guest list and pulled the biggest players in the room. I want to know their names and what they do.” Mac’s research never ceases to amaze me.
“Archie Guldner is going to make a play for governor in the next election,” he says. “There is a chance he could win. I need to play both sides until I can get a sense of who is likely to win.”
“You’re good at that, aren’t you? Reading situations. That, or you have a lot of moxie, as my grandfather would say.” He hasdone things that could have gotten him killed, but he’s come out unscathed. If anything, he’s ahead. He’s got a knack for that.
“Yes, I am rather good at it,” he admits. “It’s a skill set I started working on from a young age.”
“Your father was abusive.” Shit, I said that far too fast and cold. “I apologize. I could have expressed that more thoughtfully.” I have to remember that I’m not around my family, and blurting random things out may not be the best idea. They’re used to my directness.
“Don’t change the way you speak on my account. Yes, he was an abusive asshole. One that thought he had me under his thumb.”
“Making the people close to you fear you more than they respect you will lead to your demise. I struggle with this,” I admit. Not with my family but with the men that work for us. I spoke carelessly about his upbringing. I can give my own issues.
It’s not because I’m trying to cause people to fear me. It’s simply my demeanor and the whispers about me. When people think you’re cold and don’t have feelings, it scares them. Empathy is a tool many latch on to, and if they think you don’t have any, they know no amount of words they give you will stir you.
“I know.” He puts his hand down on my bare thigh. “I don’t think you should waste time on it. You’re small and a woman; as much as they shouldn’t underestimate you, they will. You win people over by being steady. You’re an even force, and predictability isn’t always a bad thing. It can bring comfort and understanding to many people. Being reliable holds far more weight than people realize. Don’t underestimate it the way people do you.” He gives me one of his charming smirks. “We know where that can get them.”
“Dead.” I place my hand on top of his. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you remind me a bit of my mother. The things you say.”
“I would never take that the wrong way. As your husband, I would hope that in time you could hold me in the same regard.”
“So that I’ll kill for you,” I find myself teasing right back. Everything he told me in the hotel suite is still fresh in my mind.
“I don’t think having you kill for me would be hard.” He actually chuckles, making the conversation lighter.
“You’ve killed before?” I ask.
“I have.”
“How many?” My curiosity is piqued now.
“Is this one of those car games to kill the time?” A small laugh leaves me, surprising me.
“I guess I’m not good at small talk.” I shrug.
“Yes, when I have to. I don’t favor it.”
“You do have a very clean-cut background, considering all things.”
“I killed my father.” I set my cards down. “My second favorite kill.” Oh, this is new information or as Bonte would call it, tea.
“You’re full of surprises.” I swipe my tongue across my bottom lip. Is it weird that this little game of ours is somehow turning me on? “Who was your favorite?”
“Not sure you’re ready to hear that one yet.”
“I am.”
“You’re adorable when you pout.”
“I don’t pout.” I scowl. He kisses my bottom lip.
“Your bottom lip says otherwise.” He kisses it again, and that urge to crawl back into his lap hits again. “Let me get your door.” I glance back out the window. I hadn’t noticed that the vehicle had stopped moving.
When he slips out of the car, I touch my bottom lip. Was I pouting? It’s not the worst thing, I tell myself. Pouting can be a tool to get what you want.
Paxton opens the door for me, offering me his hand. “There are cameras,” he warns before he steps aside, unblocking the view of everyone.
