His eyebrows rose in surprise. “What makes you think that?”
“You smell like motor oil.”
Ryan looked down at his shirt and jeans and over to his black leather jacket, folded on the seat next to him. He picked it up and sniffed at it.
“I don’t smell anything.”
Elissa shrugged smugly. “Olfactory fatigue. If it’s around all the time, you stop smelling it.”
He grinned and took a gulp of beer. “Big words. I like it. Not a mechanic, but I work on my bike myself whenever possible. Two more guesses.”
“You never stipulated there would only be three guesses.”
“I don’t want to be here all night.”
“You think it would take that long?”
He raised his eyebrows and allowed a devilish smile to lift the corners of his mouth.
“Ugh, fine,” she said.
Elissa stared at him, only allowing herself to become mildly distracted by his eyes, still sparkling with an unknown emotion. He was amused, but there was something else. They’d only just met, yet she was almost sure he would invite her to his place if she gave him the smallest sign she was interested.
“Shoe sales.” Elissa wanted to see what he’d do when she gave him an obviously wrong answer.
Unfortunately, she’d said this as he’d taken a sip of his beer. He choked and coughed. No one could simultaneously swallow and laugh. It was a miracle she didn’t get sprayed by beer. She pushed over an extra napkin and sat back in her chair, a triumphant grin on her face. He wasn’t angry at her suggestion, so perhaps he wasn’t as arrogant as she first assumed.
Once his breathing was under control, Ryan chuckled. “Nope. Strike two.”
Elissa studied him, really studied him. From the tips of his motorcycle boots to the top of his head. Everything was high quality, if plain. And nobody got their hair perfect by accident. Ryan had some money but spent it sparingly on items that were important to him. The boots, his hair, his bike. Those form-fitting jeans. She tapped her finger against her lips.
“What happens if I guess right?” she asked.
“I’ll buy you another drink and tell you my theory.”
“If I don’t want another drink?”
“Raincheck.”
This time, she knew. Those sparks in his eyes weren’t merely laughter or annoyance. He was attracted to her, too. Little butterflies stirred in her stomach, reminding her the feeling was mutual. But one foot in front of another. She wasn’t going home with him, not today, at least.
Elissa tucked an errant strand of her boring brown hair behind an ear, took a sip of her wine, and smiled at him. She had his number.
six
nefarious purposes
Ryan honest-to-god liked this woman. She called him on his usual bullshit, perfectly willing to walk away, and wasn’t at all impressed by his family. Or his money, apparently. Her intelligence and wit had his brain screaming for more, and her body…dear God. He clenched his hands into fists to keep from touching her.
He waited for her final guess. Anticipation swirled through his body, his heart raced, and his skin tingled. Her eyes, blue as a lake on a hot summer day, narrowed.
“Remember, I don’t like games.” A damned cute frown creased the skin between Elissa’s eyebrows. “Even when I win, I end up losing.”
“But you were playing along so nicely.” He couldn’t keep himself from teasing her, flashing a panty-melting smile.
After arranging this date, he’d asked himself what the hell had made him agree to it. He’d known the answer to that, too, and hated the shallowness of it. Half-a-million dollars would motivate anyone agree to a date, even when he was certain she’d only be doing it for his family name and the connections it could give her. Like all the other women from his mother’s social circle. But when his doom waltzed through the door and turned out to be pretty, petite, and smart, he knew she could be the cherry on top of his semi-charmed life.
“What if you don’t appreciate my guess?” She sipped her rosé.
