Chapter 14 #2
I laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. “Or what? You’ll throw me over your knee and spank me for misbehaving? I’m not a child.”
His entire demeanor instantly alters, the air in the car along with it. His eyes drag down my body in what can only be described as a heated gaze for the way it leaves fire in its wake. “If that’s what you need, then that’s what you’ll get.”
Oh hell.
His dark eyes lock with mine and he stares, unabashed and intense. “Are you going to go out with one of them?”
I want to say yes just to see what he’ll do. Will he actually put me over his knee, lift up my dress and spank my ass? And why on earth does the mere suggestion of that in my head make me impossibly wet and turned on? I squirm before I can stop it and he notices, his pupils blowing out.
I want to keep arguing with him, but there is no way I can tell him anything other than the truth when he looks at me like that. “I wasn’t going to. No.”
“Good girl.”
Shit. My eyes close and I force myself back to the window, needing to relearn how to breathe at a normal rate. Pressing a palm to my cheek, it’s on fire. I feel him lift my phone from my lap, but I can’t speak, argue, or look at him.
“I deleted the app. That’s not how you should be meeting men.”
I listen as he puts my phone back in my purse.
I’m furious with him for being so high handed and doing that without my permission. But I can’t speak without betraying myself, so I just stay quiet. If I decide to re-download it, that’s my call, not his.
After a few tense minutes, he clears his throat. “We’re making a stop at the hospital so I can show you your new workspace and grab you a badge so you can go up to the floor without needing to be let in and then we’ll grab some lunch since I stole you from yours.”
I flip back around at light speed.
“What? Why are you shaking your head at me like that?”
Fear grips my throat, making it difficult to drag in air. “Kaplan, please. I wasn’t kidding about not liking hospitals. Don’t make me work from there.”
Unbuckling his seat belt, he shifts until he’s directly beside me, taking up the entire middle seat with his large frame. He buckles once more, pressing in against me with his size, his thigh against mine. “Tell me.”
I open my mouth to tell him that the last time I was in a hospital, I was in the emergency room, and they were declaring my stepbrother dead before my eyes, his lips blue and his neck flaming red, but the words don’t come.
He knows this about me. I’ve cried and sobbed and broken down about that day to him more than once.
And frankly, I don’t trust him with my pain anymore. He hasn’t earned any truths from me.
So I pick something else.
“I had scoliosis as a child.” Another truth, this one easier to say. “A lot of time in braces. A lot of painful procedures and physical therapy. A lot of time in the hospital.”
Ever the doctor, he asks, “What degree was the curvature?”
“Forty-five degrees. Right on the line. They tried and tried to have me avoid spinal fusion surgery.”
My face drops to my lap, dizzy, but he’s there, cupping my jaw and dragging it back up. “Were they successful?”
“No. I had surgery when I was thirteen, tired of fighting a winless battle.”
“And now you wear heels that no doubt tax your spine.” He glances down at my silver Versace safety-pin-embellished heels and then back up at me.
It’s not a question, but his grimace has me giggling, some of the tension in my muscles easing. “I live for shoes and am no stranger to back pain. But honestly, do you truly need me working there?”
“Having an irrational fear of hospitals isn’t healthy.”
Neither is the way my body is reacting to you sitting this close to me, but that’s life and some things are beyond our control. I wait him out.
“Yes, I need you there, Bianca. I work sixty-hour weeks at the hospital, and I simply don’t have the time to be at the foundation.”
“But I just redid your office,” I protest.
A chuckle. “Feel free to move in there if you like. Don’t frown. It’s not a good look on you.” His thumb hits the crevice of my frown, forcefully pushing it up, and I shove him off me, smiling stupidly, which was obviously his point.
“A frown isn’t a good look on anyone.”
He shakes his head. “Especially on you. I’ll take the statue you made with me. How’s that?”
“You’re negotiating with me now?”
“So it seems. Is that a yes?”
“I’m terrified,” I admit, capturing my lip in my teeth.
His eyes hold mine. “You’re stronger than letting something like a building hold you back. You can do it. I’ll be there with you and Monday we can ride in together.”
“Are you taking our relationship to the next level?” I jest. “Are we becoming friends?”
He grunts, running his hand through his hair, and I shake my head, reaching up and fixing the strands he just mussed.
Strong fingers encircle my wrist, gripping it tightly and pulling it from his hair.
With his eyes locked on mine, he brings my wrist to his nose, inhaling the scent of my skin, my perfume.
Pressing my wrist to his lips without kissing it, he then rests it on his thigh.
A choppy breath comes out as a feverish exhale while warm prickles race up my arm.
My gaze drops to my wrist, trapped against his thigh in the manacle of his fingers and then back up to him.
His eyes are dark, slightly hooded, and he watches my face as his thumb drags back and forth over the sensitive skin of my inner wrist.
A tremble takes hold of me, and I stifle my whimper. “What are you doing?” It’s a gasp and I feel my cheeks heating once more. With lust. With confusion.
He releases me, but he doesn’t push my hand away from his leg and he doesn’t retreat an inch from how his body is pressed to mine. “I’m not the sort of man you want to make friends with.”
“How’s that?”
“Do you know why I’ve wanted you gone so badly?”
A headshake.
“Because I’m attracted to you. And that’s not a game I can play.”