Trista Ann Michaels by Wicked Lies Page B

serious expression. “So long as you don’t expect me to always bow to your every demand.”
    Marcus snorted. “Are you kidding me? I happen to like your stubborn streak. You,” he gripped her chin and pulled her face toward his, “can fight me all you want.” He placed a quick kiss on her lips, then smiled. “That doesn’t mean, though, I will always let you win.”
    She grinned wickedly and pulled her face from his grasp.
    “So, it’s like that is it?” he murmured as he watched her lift her glass and take a large sip.
    His lips twitched as he realized she might get drunk just to prove to him she could. Sinclair didn’t like being bossed around. He’d known that about her since the beginning.
    Bossing her around was never his intention. He just liked pulling her chain. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he loved her. It had been for a long time. Sitting here, watching her, touching her, it was even harder not to say the words.
    How would she take it? Would she run? Would she freak out? Or would she say it back?
    Sometimes, he’d swear he saw love in her eyes, but he’d thought he’d seen it in others and been wrong. He’d learned his lesson the hard way—the lesson not to trust women.
    Sinclair was different. She wouldn’t play him for a fool. She wouldn’t lie to him. His smile faded. Not like he was lying to her. God, he was such an idiot.
    Her gaze narrowed as she watched him suspiciously. He had a feeling she knew something was up. He needed to tell her, but not here. Not yet.
    “You know,” she began. “I keep getting the feeling you’re not telling me something.”
    “Like what?” he asked, as the waitress placed a basket of bread on their table.
    “Are you sure there’s not something bothering you?”
    Marcus waited until she walked away before replying. “No.” He forced himself to smile again. “I was just thinking about putting you over my knee for deliberately disobeying me.”
    Her lips parted slightly and her eyes went wide briefly before a light flush moved over her cheeks.
    He moved closer and lowered his voice. “Your ass would look incredibly sexy all red from a spanking.”
    She swallowed and he inwardly smiled at the realization she liked what he was saying. She tried to cover up her reaction by narrowing her eyes at him.
    “You wouldn’t dare,” she replied.
    “Try me,” he purred.
    She gave him a shrewd look. “I just might.”
    Now it was Marcus’s turn to try and cover his surprise. God, he hoped she did. She lifted the glass and took another sip. Her cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink from drinking the tea too fast. He reached out and set the glass just out of her reach. She frowned and leaned forward to grab it, but he grasped her hand in his, stopping her.
    “Sinclair. We haven’t eaten a lot today, so it won’t take much to make you drunk and I want you sober tonight.”
    Her head tilted as she studied him. “Why? What’s so important about tonight?”
    He started to say why it was so important, but the waitress returned to take their order. After Sinclair placed her order, she asked. “Could I get a glass of water with lemon?”
    “Of course,” the waitress replied, before taking the menus and walking toward the kitchen.
    “We have a few minutes before she comes back. What’s so important?” Sinclair asked, looking at him with her no-nonsense stare that made him squirm.
    Marcus took a deep breath as he leaned on his elbows and clasped his hands in front of him. “I love you,” he said simply. “That’s what’s so important.”
    He lifted his gaze to hers. She sat silently staring at him, her mouth open in shock.
    “Say something, Sinclair,” he murmured.
    Her mouth moved but nothing came out, at least at first. “You love me?” she asked, still obviously shocked.
    He didn’t say anything, just watched her, his hands clasped tightly, his fingers clenched. His whole body felt tense and anxious as he waited for her