His face lit up. “Staying away from the fray of my business, nothing more.”
“Why were you shot? Do you know who did it? Are the police involved?” The questions seemed to flow easily.
Every time he crowded my space, my heart skipped a couple of beats. Tonight was no exception. Without touching me, he guided me against the back counter, his body only inches from mine. “Have you thought that maybe you don’t want to learn anything about me?”
“Why would that be?”
“Because it’s entirely possible you won’t like the answers.”
Frowning, I knew he was right. “Fair enough. We’ll skip that subject.” I took a sip of wine, every inch of me quivering from the closeness. This was his way of fighting back, keeping me on edge. “One last question. Are you a killer?”
The slow and steady smile crossing his face wasn’t an admittance, but something equally nefarious. He planted one hand on the counter beside me and I followed the line of his arm, my eyes stopping on the skull with a sword running through it. It was quite possibly the most beautiful tattoo I’d ever seen.
“Don’t answer that question,” I added. “I think women fantasize about big, bad, dangerous men in books and movies, but don’t realize when they’re faced with one, the reality is much… different.”
“Is that so?” Without asking, he took the glass from my hand, placing both on the counter. With both his hands now firmlyplanted on the counter, I was wedged in. Almost as if I’d become his prisoner.
The closeness was oppressive, yet his subtle actions of dominance were definitely seductive. My throat was dry, and my usual chatterbox self was finding words difficult. “Yes.” He lowered his head and I thought he intended on kissing me. I even lifted my chin, although my lips were parched.
“I guess I’ll need to change your way of thinking.”
He was taunting me as he’d done before, testing my resolve or perhaps asking for my judgment of him. Whatever the case, my nerves were frayed. There was no reason. He’d done nothing overt or anything considered threatening. Well, maybe to Randy. But if he’d made the statement as Montgomery told me, the burly man had deserved the angry challenge.
I placed my hand on his chest, every inch of my skin feeling flushed. Without thinking, I ducked under his arm.
He snatched my wrist, yanking me back. The symphony of moves was almost in perfect rhythm to the piano music and for a few seconds, we did a little dance, an unchoreographed taste of passion. But when he cupped both sides of my face, I was pulled into a quiet vacuum where there were no sounds other than the rapid beating of my heart, nothing else around us.
Only the intense look on his face before he captured my mouth.
In the beautiful moment of tasting him, hungering for him, there was no need to remind myself once again this was only for one night.
But what a night I knew it would turn out to be.
CHAPTER 11
Fleur
Electric.
There was no denying our connection, the powerful draw that exploited an uncontrollable passion. Montgomery whisked me into his arms, determined to remain some primal image of the very type of alpha man I’d desired.
I’d always thought getting to know a man before sex was wise. Job. Family. Hobbies. Likes and dislikes. Now all my beliefs were easily tossed out the window. All I needed to know was that he was sexy as hell, a damn good kisser, that his mouth and tongue were lethal weapons, and his cock was huge. I mean gargantuan huge.
I might be shorter than him by several inches, but I was by no means a tiny woman. Which was why as he carried me up a winding set of stairs, I not only felt self-conscious, but also concerned about his injury. There was no change in expression, the lust in his eyes lingering, the clench of his jaw continuallycapturing my attention. His hold tender yet firm. Possessive. The word continued to ravage my mind.
Which was exactly what it seemed he was eager to do.
Once inside the bedroom and after flipping on a single light, he stood at the end of the bed. Just as soon as a sly smile slipped across his face, he tossed me in the middle. I could tell he wasn’t expecting me to scramble to my knees, offering an even more heated version of the same expression he’d worn for the past few minutes.
Determined.
There was something entirely different about his eyes, especially when he shifted them in my direction.
Undressing me.
Searching my very soul.
Prepared to devour every inch, tasting and taking like the dangerous man he truly was.
