Free The Gilded Cuff by Lauren Smith Page B

between them— “is crazy too. I don’t sleep with guys I haven’t dated and I definitely don’t let strangers spank me.” He raised one brow, that single action a challenge.
    “Or boyfriends?” The soft stroke of his voice stirred honeyed desire in her.
    “Not boyfriends either.”
    One corner of his mouth kicked up into a rakish smile. “I’ll be the first man to lay my hand on you.” He played with the spatula, eyeing it in serious contemplation. “Maybe not just my hand…but don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll love it when I give it to you.”
    Her mouth dried up completely. And a heat wave flooded her from head to toe so badly that she braced herself on the counter to stop from toppling off the barstool.
    Emery cracked two eggs over the skillet and flicked molten gold eyes on hers. “This was your idea, Sophie. You wanted to be my sub. Intimacy, both sexual and otherwise, is part of the bargain, at least for me.”
    Sophie flinched. Intimacy? Was she ready for that?
    No. Hell no.
    The last time she’d been intimate and let her guard down, a man had gotten inside her heart, and then nearly killed her when he walked away. That had been five years ago and the pain had only barely started to ease. She couldn’t live through that again, couldn’t bear to be on the end of a one-sided relationship at the end of the day. Sophie was convinced Unrequited Love was her middle name. And she had no intention of sharing herself so openly again. The last time she’d really cared about a guy, she’d made the mistake of sharing her job with him. Letting him see how important her work was hadn’t brought them closer. Instead it had driven him away. She couldn’t erase the look on his face from her mind, either, as though she’d lost her sanity when she tried to tell him she was helping to save lives by writing her articles and researching cold cases for patterns. He’d said her interest in the morbid subject was “unhealthy” and she should be writing articles about house decoration tips, or recipes for parties, as though her career was little more than a glorified hobby.
    Sophie would never forget how she’d felt when he’d left: torn between rage and hurt, tears burning her eyes, and her throat so tight she couldn’t breathe. The worst thing in the world was opening yourself up and being rejected. She couldn’t let that happen again, not on Emery’s terms, when he was demanding an emotional intimacy she couldn’t give him.
    It was time to leave. She’d get her story another way and figure out who had kidnapped him without risking herself in the process. She slid off the stool, her worn ballet flats silent as they touched the ground. Slowly she reached for her clutch purse on the counter, training her eyes on Emery’s body as he kept his back to her, cooking the eggs. Her heart kicked into a panicked rhythm as she struggled to remain calm, stealthy in her escape.
    The smell of his cooking was heavenly, wrapping around her, teasing her stomach to the point that it grumbled. Loudly . Sophie froze. But Emery must not have heard her stomach because he didn’t turn around. Thank God, she thought and quickly tiptoed toward the kitchen door. With one longing glance over her shoulder at Emery, she didn’t see the hulking mass blocking her path until it was too late.
    Whump!
    She collided with solid muscle and large hands fell to her shoulders, rooting her in place as she prepared to struggle.
    “Say, Emery, your little sub’s making a run for it,” announced a familiar voice.
    The man who held her still was none other than Royce, Emery’s friend from the club, the one who’d brought her right to Emery and practically shoved her into his lap.
    Emery didn’t even turn around. He merely laughed. Cocky bastard.
    “Thanks Royce. That saves my bodyguard the trouble of tracking her down before I unleashed the pack of wild dogs on her.”
    Wild dogs? He’s kidding, he’s totally kidding . Sophie bit her lip and