CHAPTER 15
Scott intended to let Doc walk away, to vanish into the crowd with Mr. Corduroy. After last night’s blunder, he knew he’d earned the cold shoulder, and she certainly deserved a shot at joy, even if it was with a guy who had the allure of a dishrag. But as she moved toward Mr. Corduroy, that insufferable purveyor of insta-love, a raw, seething something clawed at Scott”s insides.
It was a feeling that gnawed at him, dark and voracious, one he couldn”t shake off. The acrid tang of it suggested jealousy, but that couldn”t be—because a man cursed to never know love couldn”t possibly know the first thing about jealousy, could he? Yet, what else could twist his gut like this?
He was moving before he could slap a label on the emotion, striding toward them with purpose. He reached for Doc’s arm just as she paused by Ms. Birdie, his fingers closing a touch too firm, a silent declaration of his presence.
Doc’s reaction was swift, her arm snapping away from his grip, her eyes shooting daggers colder than any ice. “Excuse me.” Her voice was arctic, and it should have cut him to the core—should have, but it didn’t.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Frankie needs to see us,” he lied smoothly, the deception rolling off his tongue like second nature. Well, it wasn’t an outright lie; Frankie had texted, just not for tonight.
Doc’s suspicion was palpable, even as she apologized to Corduroy. Scott watched as the guy’s attempt at charm elicited a smile from Doc, a smile that had no right to stir anything in Scott yet did. It fanned the flames of that unfamiliar, gnawing feeling as he watched another man touch her.
“We need to get going,” he interjected, his impatience not entirely feigned. The longer she lingered with Corduroy, the more the unfamiliar sensation grew, tainting his mood.
Doc ignored Scott and her gaze locked with Corduroy. It was as if Scott had faded into the background.
“No one makes Frankie wait,” he said with a touch more urgency, steering her away, the need to separate her from Corduroy burning through him like wildfire.
Once they stepped outside, Doc made her indignation clear, wrenching her arm free from his hold. “What is wrong with you? I liked him.” The tension that sizzled in the air between them was electric, almost alive.
A gentleman would regret his actions, but regret was a stranger to Scott. “I saved you from a mistake with Corduroy.”
“Mistake?” she echoed, disbelief etched into each syllable.
“You deserve better,” he insisted, and it was true. She did. But why it mattered so much to him, he couldn’t fathom.
“And you think you’re better?” she challenged, her eyes ablaze with a fire that he recognized all too well—it was the same fire that ignited whenever they sparred.
“Fuck, no,” he said, the curse sharp and raw. “But if you’re hell-bent on throwing yourself at someone who’ll never make you burn the way you do with me, then let me at least show you what you’ll be missing.” It was a low blow, even for him, and yet he couldn’t help but lay all his cards on the table. Because if she was going to choose someone, anyone, it sure as hell wasn”t going to be Corduroy. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Her mouth formed a perfect O. “Frankie doesn’t want to see us tonight, does she?”
He could only offer a rueful shake of his head. “Monday is soon enough for her.”
She drew back her hand, clearly aiming to slap him, but he was quicker, capturing her wrist and pinning her gently against the brick wall. “You’ll understand later,” he murmured, locking her gaze with an intensity that belied his casual tone. And in that moment, he vowed silently to himself that he’d spare no expense to see her in emeralds, the color that would make her eyes pop—a lavish indulgence, but then, what was the point of wealth if not for grand gestures?
Her response was a hiss. “There won’t be any thanks coming from me.”
Despite her struggle, he held firm, not willing to let her escape just yet. Instead, he pressed against her, allowing her to feel his desire. A move as bold as the one she’d offered last night, yet driven by more than just lust. “Are you certain of that?”
Doc”s eye roll was a thing of beauty, even in defiance. “While I’m happy for you, I really am, that my nightmare hasn’t yet come to pass, your chance of showing off your skills with that…thing”—she paused and glanced down between them—“you have proudly pressed into my belly is long gone.”
Her fiery response hung between them, and he couldn’t help but marvel at her spunk even while bristling at her mention of that damn dream. Doc would keep the lucky bastard who eventually married her on his toes. A guy that could never be him. He shoved that thought aside and placed his lips against her ear. “What if I told you why I had to decline last night, and why tonight is different?”
“I know why you said no—I saw you with the twins.”
“But what you don’t know…” He paused, ensuring he had her full attention. “Frankie orchestrated that whole scene. She sent me to that club with a clear directive to be snapped looking like I was up for more than just drinks.”
“Why would she demand such a thing from you, and why would you comply?” There was a note of bewilderment in her voice, mingled with a hint of something softer.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Frankie has invested heavily in the rake persona she”s crafted for me. She’s not about to let her investment go without a fight. She planned those photos, our cozy little scene at the restaurant, and then juxtaposed it with those taken later with the twins to reinforce that narrative.” Some day he might regret breaking his NDA, but tonight wouldn’t be it.
“That’s a nice tale.” Skepticism laced Doc’s words.
He responded not with words but with a kiss planted softly on the tender skin of her neck, savoring the involuntary shiver he drew from her. “The only person I envisioned in my bed last night was you.”
His confession resulted in her pushing against his chest, her strength surprising him into taking a step back.
“You should have said that last night,” Doc snapped, “instead of leaving me to believe that I’d made an utter fool of myself.”
“I couldn’t, because I’m tied up in an NDA with Naked Runway.”
“Yet here you are revealing it when it’s convenient for you.” The skepticism was back in full force.
Damn. She made a valid point. “Convenient is the last thing it is from my perspective.”
Her eyes searched his, as if hunting for sincerity. When they dimmed, he knew what she’d found—nothing but the echoes of a rakish prince more adept at crafting headlines than holding onto relationships, a truth that sat heavier on his heart than any crown on his head.
“And what perspective is that?” she finally asked.
He took a breath, his mission unwavering. “One of a guy who audaciously believes the woman in front of him deserves a scandalous night with a rake before she settles for a man who thinks corduroy is black-tie appropriate.”
“That would be an error in judgment—one I narrowly escaped last night,” she said with resolution.
The gentleman in him wanted to back off, to respect her stance. But the rake? The rake wanted to push, to persuade. “And what if I were to confess that seeing you with others tonight made me uneasy? In a way I”ve never experienced before?”
Her nose crinkled adorably. “Are you trying to tell me you were jealous?”
He traced a line down her cheek, a rogue curl yielding to his touch as he tucked it behind her ear. “What I mean is you stir feelings in me that are entirely new.”
Her snort was dismissive. “Probably because I’m the only woman who hasn’t fallen for your rakish charm.”
“I seem to recall you announcing your plan to give me a second glance.”
“Not you. Your column,” she countered. “And I have been.”
“I’ve given you, the person, a second glance, Doc, and I am enthralled with my discovery. Perhaps, if you did the same with me, as a person, not a column, you’d have a similar experience.” The accent he usually kept polished and subtle now twined through his plea, an unintended, yet earnest reveal of his vulnerability.
“Reevaluating you doesn’t necessitate us sleeping together.”
“But it could?” He was ready to back off, to hail her a cab if she rebuffed him again. “Oh, by the way. These are for you.” He pulled out his five cards from the Flirtation Gala and handed them to her.
“You kept them all?” she murmured, not glancing at the back of them.
He leaned in, hoping his smile was as disarming as he intended. “I saved them all for you. Even wrote my favorite saying on the back just like Ms. Birdie instructed.”
One-by-one she flipped them over and read:
“First looks are often deceiving…”
“…but second glances can reveal secrets…”
“In every jest, there is truth…”
“Turn over a card, as you might a new leaf, and let’s write a midnight story that starts with ‘What if?’”
She stopped reading and shook her head as if she were having a conversation with herself, and she didn’t like the answer herself had just given her.
“You should listen to that inner voice you’re trying hard to ignore,” he prompted.
Her gaze met his, amusement and challenge mingling there. “If we’re doing this, I’m expecting the full rake experience. Don’t give me the sanitized version.”
The groan that escaped him was half frustration, half anticipation. “Can you be more specific?”
“I want something…different. Uncharted territories, not the well-trodden path,” she said, her voice a mix of curiosity and determination.
He had to ask, even as he braced for her answer. “As in dirty talk, Doc, or are we venturing into kinkier domains? BDSM?”
Her cheeks flamed. “Are you into BDSM?”
His laughter was light, trying to ease the tension. “Dirty talk it is. Anything else?”
When she licked her lips, it was as if she’d struck a match, igniting something fierce within him. “Just a heads-up,” she warned, pointing her finger in playful admonition. “Don’t catch feelings. This is just a detour on my road to self-discovery. It’s not a journey to love, but I’m betting it ends with a climax.”
He couldn’t resist the jibe, his confidence peaking. “I guarantee multiple climaxes,” he corrected, signaling for a taxi with a flourish. Her teasing had been a spark, but his promise? That was a blazing commitment.