His two faces settled into one. "What? No."
"A cat? A parakeet? Goldfish?"
Why was he laughing at me?
"No, none of those things."
"Then you can spare an hour to feed yourself."
Dropping my head, I realized a second too late that the softness under my cheek was his cashmere overcoat. Deciding to give in just once, I left my head there and felt the hard planes of muscle under his clothes as I inhaled pine and wood smoke.
I knew it was dangerous territory—he was dangerous territory—but what harm could come from a few seconds of weakness?
I pushed away the automatic answer. I had one night; less than that, really. A few hours to let him take care of me, to pay for a meal somewhere and then take me back home. I could give that to myself.
When the vehicle came to a stop, I sat upright and looked out the darkly tinted back window. "Wait, where are we?"
"My house."
The driver opened the door and stood to the side, and I felt myself rising with Burke as he got out with me in his arms.
"No, honestly, I can't have dinner at your house. I can't be at your house."
"Why not?" He hadn't set me down so I could walk on my own feet, meaning his gorgeous face was inches from mine. My body swayed with his movements; they reminded me of a jungle cat.
The bright, welcoming lights of the house made me close my eyes. I had to be tougher than that if I was going to stand my ground. "Because I don't know you."
"Then we'll fix that tonight."
"You have an answer for everything, don't you?"
"It's a good idea in my line of work."
His line of work was illegal.
I tensed as we walked over the threshold, my muscles cramping in defense. It was a terrible idea to let him have his way, even once.
"Do you ever relax?" he murmured, and my eyes flashed open.
I couldn't say why that offended me in particular, but it most likely had something to do with the fact that I hadn't been able to unclench around him. "It's your fault."
"Is it?"
He settled me on a sofa, and I inspected my surroundings. Opulency was a given; white walls and white furniture with statuaries and paintings which probably cost a small fortune discreetly scattered around.
"I don't belong here."
Both of his brows went up at that statement, and he sat beside me. "Why not?"
Spluttering in disbelief, I gestured wildly. "You—me—obviously."
"I apologize if I make you uncomfortable."
A man in a white uniform came into the room with glasses on a tray, offering them to me and Burke. I waited until he'd left before saying anything else. "You're kidding me, right?"
"About what?"
"Shall I repeat my previous well-articulated statement?"
