“What? No! Nothing that serious.” She groans. “I should show you.” She peeks out around the wall, down the hallway.
“I think we’re alone,” I tell her. I have no idea what’s going on, but privacy seems paramount in her mind. “The security team’s finishing up on the Mezzanine level.”
She leans back and faces me, slowly taking her sunglasses off, and I stare down into the hazel eyes of none other than Lucy Dupree, disgraced starlet who left the spotlight after an outburst to end all outbursts on national TV.
“Whoa” is the first word that comes out of my mouth.
She flinches. “Yeah. Hi. It’s me. It’s okay if you hate me. I wouldn’t blame you.”
I hold up my hands. “I don’t hate you. I don’tknowyou.”
“Well, I appreciate that, but I’m here to close the book on this thing.” She offers me a tight smile. “I wanted you to know who you’re dealing with so you’d stop with the hunt. That’s what I came here to tell you.” She pushes her sunglasses back onto her face and moves to leave.
Voices reach my ear at that very moment, and Lucy freezes. She spins in my direction, and though I can’t see her eyes, I can picture the worried, frantic look in her green and gold flecks, and I want to erase it.
I reach behind me and blindly try the handle on the door in the alcove. It swings inward, and I step back, motioning for Lucy to join me. She doesn’t hesitate, moving forward into the darkened conference room. I shut the door silently as someone walks past.
Lucy sucks in a breath, and we wait in silence until the footfall disappears. Since it’s dark and quiet, all my senses kick in like a snare drum beat. There’s a tropical scent emanating from Lucy’s skin or her hair, something fruity mixed with a hint of coconut.
As my eyes adjust, I can make out the lines of her jaw. She’s got a diamond face shape, with strong, defined cheekbones. I knew she was beautiful even when she was wearing the mask, butseeing her full face now … even in the dark … it’s obvious she’s a knock-out.
Of course she is. Everyone knows Lucy Dupree is beautiful.
“Do you think they’re gone?” she whispers.
I clear my throat, pawing for the door. When my hand connects with the handle, I crack it open and peer into the hallway. “Coast is clear.” I motion for her to go ahead of me.
She steps out of the room, but I catch her arm. She freezes and shoves her sunglasses up into her hair, giving me a clear view of her eyes. They’re cloudy with apprehension. She arches her brows, and I’m rendered momentarily speechless by her freckles.Your honor, I love them.They were covered by her mask at the gala, but now my fingers itch to feel them. To connect the dots and trace the path from one to the next, like it’s a personal roadmap.
It goes against every rule I’ve held for myself since Tess died. Rather, the one rule I’ve held for myself: Don’t get attached. Before I know what I’m saying, I blurt out, “Let me buy you dinner.”
Her eyes widen. “That’s not necessary.”
“I’d like to, though. You obviously went out of your way to come down here. It’s the least I can do.”
I tell myself this is okay. I’ve gone on plenty of first dates. Even a few second dates. That’s all this is—a token of appreciation and a way to satisfy my curiosity about Lucy. And it’s not even a date.
“I don’t do public outings. Not anymore,” she adds ruefully.
“You could come back to my place. I’ll make you something.”
Her eyes widen even further.
I backpedal. “I mean, only if you’re comfortable with that. I’ve got chicken marinating, and there’s plenty. I think I have a salad and maybe some grapes.”
Grapes, TJ. Really? That’s what you’re offering Lucy Dupree?
Her eyebrows hitch up, and I’m certain she’s going to politely decline, which I tell myself would likely spare me a world ofpotential hurt. But then she squares her shoulders and gives a firm nod. “Alright. Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 13
Lucy
If anyone asks me how I ended up following TJ Wilson to his house, I’m going to say I blacked out and some overeager cowgirl crawled inside my brain and took the reins.
What am I thinking, going to a man’s house when I barely know him? A man whom I absolutely have no intention of knowing.
Beats me. But here we are.
