Page 343 of Reign

“I know.”

“You’re very confident.”

“You said it twice.”

“You made me say it the second time.”

“And you did.”

I glance at him. “Bossy.”

“Yes.”

He stops at the final door in the corridor and unlocks it.

The room beyond is quieter than the rest of the club. Dark wood covers the walls, warmed by dim lights set low near the floor. A wide leather chaise sits in the center, and a private bar stretches across one side of the room.

There are no chains.

No cuffs.

No padded wall waiting to swallow me whole.

I’m almost disappointed.

Then I notice the bottle on the bar.

“Whiskey?”

Luciano closes the door behind us. “Good. You can read the label.”

I look at him over my shoulder. “Are we drinking?”

“I will be.”

That answer is deeply suspicious.

I walk farther into the room.

Two glasses sit beside the bottle, along with a bowl of ice and several neatly folded towels.

I point toward them.

“Why are there towels?”

“You ask a remarkable number of questions for someone who claims to enjoy surprises.”

“I need enough information to determine whether I should keep my shoes on.”

“You won’t need them.”

My eyes move to his hands.

Interest replaces suspicion so quickly it’s embarrassing.

Luciano crosses to the bar and starts unbuttoning his cuffs and pushing his sleeves toward his elbows.

I watch every movement.