One dark brow arched in challenge. “I haven’t even started, sweetheart.”
I opened my mouth to fire back a scathing retort, but the words died on my tongue as Matt’s fingertips grazed my bare thigh, tracing featherlight patterns along my skin. The contactwas electric, sending a jolt of unwanted heat straight to my groin.
“Don’t…” I started, but it came out more breathless than I intended.
“Don’t what?” Matt rumbled, his touch drifting higher in a blatant tease. “This?”
I swallowed hard, trying and failing to dredge up some semblance of resolve as his fingers continued their torturous exploration. “Can you at least let me grab some clothes and essentials from my place? I’m not exactly planning on streaking through Vegas.”
Matt’s hand stilled but didn’t retreat. “My men will handle it,” he said with an infuriatingly calm tone.
“There’s no rush,” I insisted, tamping down the sudden flare of panic. “I’m not going to run off.”
One dark brow quirked upward. “Then why’d you leave in the first place?”
I huffed in exasperation. “Because it’s your place,” I muttered. “I’m not going to stay somewhere that has your stench all over it.”
“And what’s wrong with my place and my stench?” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a seductive purr, his eyes glinted with mischief. “Or do you prefer a dingy dungeon-like cell? Is that your kink? If so, I’d gladly oblige.”
My face flamed hot as his words conjured all sorts of unbidden images. “No, that’s… definitely not my thing,” I managed, struggling to keep my composure. “It’s just… you make me… uncomfortable.” I hated how lame that sounded, but it was the truth.
Understanding flickered in Matt’s eyes, quickly replaced by a knowing look that made my stomach twist. “You’ll get used to it,” he said nonchalantly. Turning his attention to the driver, he added, “Let’s get going, Rudd.”
The engine rumbled to life as the car pulled away from the curb. I sank back into the plush leather, my mind reeling as I tried to process everything that was happening. One thing was abundantly clear—Matt Caine wasn’t going to make getting out of this easy. Not by a long shot.
I sat quietly, my skin prickling with the awareness of Matt’s presence beside me. As the car navigated the neon-drenched streets, my heart sank when I recognized the familiar opulence of the Maxwell Hotel Resort looming ahead. Dread coiled tight in my gut at the prospect of parading through that lavish lobby, half-naked and clad in nothing but a flimsy towel. Rich folks in their designer clothing would gawk, whisper, and judge. I could already feel their eyes on me, a burning sensation that had nothing to do with reality—yet.
I turned to Matt, my voice low but firm as I clutched the towel tighter around my waist. “I’m not leaving this car like this.”
Matt sighed, as if my request was some great inconvenience. He shrugged off his jacket and handed it over. “There you go, princess.”
I snatched the jacket, scowling at the smug bastard. The fabric was still warm from his body heat, and I tried not to think about how it carried his rich, masculine scent. Slipping it on, I felt like a kid playing dress-up—the sleeves dangled well past my fingertips and the hem nearly grazed my knees. But it covered more than the skimpy towel, so I supposed I should be grateful.
As the car rolled to a stop, Matt didn’t wait for me. He exited with the same easy grace he did everything, leaving me scrambling to follow with as much dignity as I could muster while wearing a towel and an oversized jacket.
The second I stepped out onto that immaculate driveway, I wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow me whole. Hundreds of eyes turned our way, drawn by the bizarre sightof a young man in such a state of undress. My face burned hot enough to fry an egg as whispers and pointed stares followed our every step across that gleaming marble lobby.
I kept my gaze trained on the floor, striving to become one with the expensive Persian rugs as we strode through the heart of opulence. Matt, damn him, seemed utterly unfazed by the spectacle, strolling with his usual unflappable confidence.
“You’re going to pay for this,” I hissed under my breath, shooting him a venomous glare from beneath the safety of his jacket’s upturned collar.
The smug bastard actually chuckled—a deep, rumbling sound that should not have sent a shiver racing down my spine. “I look forward to it, sweetheart.”
By some miracle, we made it through the lobby and into the privacy of the elevator without any further incident. As the doors slid shut, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding, sagging against the mirrored wall in relief like a deflated balloon.
Matt watched me with undisguised amusement, a twinkle in those eyes that made me want to punch the smirk right off his stupidly handsome face. Bastard was enjoying this way too much.
As soon as we stepped into his lavish penthouse, I peeled off Matt’s jacket with a shudder. The damn thing reeked of him—rich cologne and something distinctly Matt. It was like wearing a second skin of arrogance and power.
“Got any clothes I can borrow? Preferably something newly washed and less… you?” I asked, holding the jacket away from me like it might bite.
Matt chuckled, nodding toward a door on the far side of the room. “Check the walk-in closet.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Practically sprinting over, I threw open the door and was greeted by a wardrobe that would make any fashionista weep with envy. Rows upon rows ofdesigner suits, shirts, and trousers, all meticulously organized by color and fabric.
I rifled through the options, bypassing anything that screamed “billionaire playboy.” Finally, I settled on a dark silk pajama set. The pants and shirt were both too big on me, but at least they were clean—and mercifully devoid of Matt’s overpowering scent.
When I reemerged, Matt was on the phone, deep in some business conversation that sounded like it involved large sums of money and even larger egos. I plopped down on the plush sofa, waiting for him to finish up. Eventually, he hung up and sauntered over with that irritating smirk still plastered on his face.
