Chapter 3
Chapter Three
He’d carried her poor, injured self out of the gallery, through the ballroom, down the stairs and then along a very twisting corridor until they’d reached their rooms. The man hadn’t even strained with the effort while she’d just hung out all comfortable in his arms and made occasional soft and despondent sighs.
She’d worried the sighs might have been too much, but, nope, they seemed to have done the trick.
She was the poor, stressed, incredibly vulnerable personal assistant who’d almost lost her job. She couldn’t handle going out into a terrible storm. Men had pointed guns at her.
Seriously, the part with the guns had been stressful and not on her bingo card. If given the option, Simone would have preferred to avoid a gun scene. Violence was not her drug of choice. But that was over, and time to move on to bigger and better things.
Ryan Quinn was a stellar kisser. New point to know about him. As her hands fisted around the lapels of his tux coat and her lips parted beneath his wonderfully plundering mouth, Simone took a moment to savor the feel of his wicked tongue and to enjoy the sensual promise of his kiss.
She was a firm believer in pausing to appreciate the small things in life. Though, honestly, the way he was making her feel did not exactly qualify as a small thing. Desire whipped through her blood and had her heartbeat racing in her chest even as parts of her seemed to melt for him.
So unexpected.
Almost as unexpected as him being a stone, cold…
liar. Which brought her back to the present moment and her predicament.
Sadly. She stopped tugging those lapels of his, and she eased back.
Maybe her tongue licked over his slightly cruel but oddly sexy lips one more time because she just couldn’t help herself, but then Simone had to accuse, “Liar” yet again because she truly did call them as she saw them.
Besides, it was fun to find a man who shared one of her vices.
She adored a good lie, too.
His eyes opened. His breath had gone ragged, and there was no missing the lust staring back at her.
Whatever else he might be fibbing about, the desire he felt for her was real.
Excellent. She hadn’t wanted him to just be kissing her purely as a distraction in the gallery. And she knew that was what he’d done.
But he blinked those deep, dark eyes of his at her, and a little furrow appeared between his brows. “What have I lied about?”
Her own lips thinned. Was he going to stop being fun?
Now? And go back to being boring? That would be a disappointment.
“You set off the alarm in the gallery.” She shifted around on the bed, bringing her legs to the side and sitting ramrod straight.
Simone would have gotten off the bed, but Ryan’s rather large form was in her way.
He bent more toward her. His hands pressed to the bedding on either side of her body. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She rolled her eyes. Did it look as if she had the patience for this? “I didn’t set off the alarm.” Her stare went right back to him. To that handsome, charming, lying face. “That means you did.”
No confirmation. No denial.
“You told the guards the alarm went off while we were kissing.” She could still taste him. She very much liked his taste. Simone swallowed. “Not true. You only kissed me after the alarm sounded. That means you lied to the guards.”
“And yet you did not call me on the lie. Not to the guards. Not to your boss.” He was so close to her.
Her nostrils flared a tiny bit as she pulled in his sensual scent.
Masculine. Woodsy. Sandalwood? Whatever it was, the scent beckoned her forward.
She was sure that if she just nestled her nose right there in the crook of his neck, kinda like a kitten, she’d find more of that delicious scent. She even started to lean forward.
Then caught herself. This was not the time for games. She had things to do.
Lightning flashed beyond the window in her room. Seconds later, thunder boomed. She jerked at the sound. Deliberately so. She’d long ago learned to stop flinching at thunder. Reacting now was simply to set the stage.
The story about her parents had been true.
There had been a terrible storm. A storm that had wrecked her life.
A storm that had sent the car her parents drove careening off the road, into a tree, and then down into a steep ditch.
Her parents had died in the crash, while she’d been trapped inside the wreckage and the water had begun to rise and rise as her young voice shouted frantically for help.
“Why didn’t you tell them I was lying, Simone?” His hand rose, and he caught a lock of hair that had escaped her twist. So much for the perfect twist. He gently tucked that lock behind her left ear.
“I didn’t want to get you in trouble,” she returned. A partial truth. “As you said, they had guns. I thought it would be better to keep quiet and get out of there.”
His fingers lingered against her cheek. Slightly callused fingertips, something she had not expected from a man with so much money and power. Most men like him had baby soft skin. Buffed nails. Annoyingly arrogant lives.
But those men were controllable. Predictable.
Something about Ryan was just…off. She’d noticed that off bit when he surged in front of her, immediately shielding her from the men with the guns in the gallery. Nice of him to be a physical barrier for her. Points for him. But…off. Not what she would have expected.
And when he’d threatened to break any fingers that were going to search her, she’d actually believed his words.
In light of those little off issues, Simone felt it necessary to perform a test on him. That was why she had kissed him again. To see how he would respond. His lust had been real enough. So now it was time for an interrogation. One done in her own, careful way. “What did you steal?”
Okay, perhaps that had not been so careful. It had been blunt and to the point.
In response, he laughed. Hard. He had a wonderful laugh. Deep, rich, and warm. His eyes crinkled at the edges, and his white teeth flashed with his grin. Killer. So very dangerous. A man with a gorgeous grin was someone who could disarm people far too easily.
Her stomach seemed to twist.
“I was hoping to steal your heart,” he replied, voice all rumbly and deep and sliding over her skin like the best caress ever. “Guess I didn’t succeed, if you think I’m a liar?”
Oh, so dangerous. And so delightful. She caught herself before she smiled at him. “Why did the alarm sound in the gallery?”
“I got too close to the Claudel. I was one hundred percent serious when I said I was a fan of her work.” His hand slid under her chin, cupping her jaw. “I’ve found that I get far too close to the things I covet. A character flaw that I possess.”
Was he saying he coveted her? Sure seemed that way. Simone didn’t think she’d ever been coveted before. “You touched the statue?”
“I might have not-so-accidentally skimmed my fingers over it.” His stare did not waver. “But do I look like a thief to you?”
She didn’t reply. In her experience, anyone could look like a thief.
More of his warm laughter. “I offered to buy the work from him. If I wanted to steal it, why would I pay for it?”
“You could have just said that you touched the piece. Kissing me was not necessary.”
The darkness of his eyes heated. “Believe me, it was one hundred percent necessary.”
Her toes almost curled. “You’re more than I expected.”
His hand slipped away. Almost immediately, Simone missed the warmth of his touch. How strange was that? She never missed anything. Or anyone. She had no attachments. Attachments led to pain. They led to you screaming in a storm for people who were gone while the water rose and rose…
More lightning flashed beyond her window.
Okay, the current bad weather was getting to her. Stirring up painful memories that were better forgotten.
“One,” Ryan said as his gaze remained on her. “Two, three…”
The thunder cracked.
She’d been so focused on him that the sudden, sharp sound gave her a real flinch. Simone hadn’t realized that he was counting the time between the lightning flash and the thunder’s rumble, not just that loud crack.
“I can stay with you tonight,” Ryan offered. He straightened to his full height and stared down at her with a considering gaze. “If you’re afraid, I can sleep right here.”
She rose, too. Her full height which was not nearly as tall and intimidating as his. “If you stay, you’ll want to share my bed.”
“I already want to share your bed.” An instant retort. “But we’re on date three, and I distinctly recall you saying that three dates do not equal one bed so…” He glanced at the floor. “I can bunk down on the carpet.”
It was her turn to laugh.
His head snapped up at the sound, and his wide eyes locked on her face.
She enjoyed the mirth, letting it roll through her because her real laughs were few and far between. When the humor finally settled, she had to swipe away a tear from her left eye.
“I’ve amused you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Yes. I’m not used to billionaires offering to sleep on the floor for me. Quite the novel experience.”
His lips pressed together.
“We both know it’s an offer you didn’t mean. The lights will go out, and then you’ll be kissing me again. But, nice try. Points for the attempt.”
“You don’t trust me.” His brow furrowed.
“It’s not just you. I don’t trust most people.” The true statement just slid out. Something she probably should not have confessed, but it was too late to pull the words back. Whoops. Definitely time to end this date. “I’m tired. It’s certainly been an…interesting evening with you.”
He stared back at her. All intense. Handsome. Sexy.
And not moving.