Once I was where he wanted me, he rolled up his shirtsleeves, opened the small first aid kit, and set it beside a bottle of Sauvage cologne by Dior. The name seemed to fit him, as did the spicy fragrance that filled the room.
I suddenly felt lightheaded, vulnerable, and more jittery than ever.
“Who was that guy?” He began to clean my wound, his touch gentle yet firm, concentrating like he was performing a unique surgical procedure. “How much do you owe him? And for what?”
Swallowing, I shifted in my seat, thinking of a believable lie. I had never been good at telling fibs when I was a little girl. Dad always knew I was lying. He’d even warned me to be cognizant of my tells when I was nervous, like rubbing my hands on my thighs.
Duke positioned himself between my legs. “You haven’t answered me.”
“You’ve played doctor before?” My brain was fogging with the proximity and closeness of his body to mine. It didn’t help that he smelled so freaking good.
He’s forbidden. He’s the enemy. He’s going to prison for a long time.
No matter how many times I repeated those lines, my body was telling me to fuck off.
With the tips of his warm fingers, he curled my hair behind my ear. “I’m the one asking the questions.”
I’d never been one to fluster easily, but he was making it difficult for me to think.
He placed a small round bandage on my temple. “Are you going to answer me?”
“Maybe when you’re not touching me,” I said honestly.
He studied me as if I was a nutjob. “You’re nervous because of me?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re quite scary.”
Handsome. Deadly. He’s everything I don’t need yet suddenly want. And that want has nothing to do with the job.
I licked my dry lips, waiting for him to respond to my comment, but he seemed mesmerized as he fixated on me.
I sighed quietly. “If we’re done here, I would like to go back to work.”
He blinked as if the sound of my voice broke whatever was going through his head. “Not until you tell me about the bald beast.”
I snorted, more to calm my nerves than anything else. “Beast, huh?”
He lightly touched the scar on my forehead, and I could see intrigue washing over him. “What happened?”
I circled my fingers around his wrist. “Childhood accident.”
“Tell you what. I’ll answer one question from you if you promise to answer mine.”
“I only get one?” I fake pouted.
He narrowed his gaze.
I let go of him. “Fine. Who’s Savannah?”
Brian had made a big deal about throwing Savannah in Duke’s face the other day.
“None of your business,” he snapped.
I’d hit a nerve—a strong one.
“Exactly,” I had the courage to say. “The bald guy is none of yours.”
Fire burned in the depths of his eyes, and the devil came to mind.
