“It’s not my celebration,” she says, glaring at the glass in her hand. “As you already know. Maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation if—”

“Careful, my girl. The way you speak sounds as if lemons are on your lips.”

She huffs and then drinks the entire glass before saying, “Better than having shit on them.” She glowers at me, igniting a different beauty in her features. “So why would you want to protect me?”

“Simple,” I state, approaching casually. I grab her empty glass and place it and my bottle down on the center table. “I want to fuck you before you die.”

Her thick-lashed eyes widen, her mouth opens, but she doesn’t appear offended.

Good.

I hate delicate flowers. I like my women with the thorns still attached.

But this is Lyriope. She’s got balls when it comes to trying to pay off the debt her greedy stepfather got her family into. Yes, she’s green, reckless, and never should have borrowed money from the Sidorov family with high stakes as collateral, but I admire her courage. She was naïve in thinking the Russians wouldn’t collect swiftly with no extensions offered, and now could die because of it. She’s over her head and trying to play in the big leagues. She wants to dance in a world she doesn’t belong in.

But I do like that she tried to help her family on her own. She didn’t throw out her ties to Bryant Morelli to hide behind. She didn’t use the name to protect her, nor did she ask Daddy for money. In fact, quite the opposite. You’d really have to have your finger on the gossip’s dying pulse to know she was the daughter of a Morelli’s mistress. A weaker person would fall back on the name to save herself when things got messy. And man, oh man, did it get messy when she went to the Sidorovs for money rather than a Morelli.

Pride makes my prick hard.

A little bit of crazy—which she clearly has—makes it fucking throb.

A smile forms on her face so slowly and so seductively that I consider putting my hand up her dress right this second just so I can touch her and see if her panties are wet. But I’ll control myself… for now.

“Thank you… Mr. Hudson. But I don’t need your protection tonight or any night. And since I have no plans of dying anytime soon… no need for the rush to… fuck me.”

Good girl.

Make me work for it.