“I’m sorry. I...” She forced her spine to straighten, but her knees were still wobbly. “I thought you wanted me.”
“I’m a man, Brittany. A man who’s had way too much to drink. Throw yourself at anyone in my condition and you’ll likely find a taker. It doesn’t mean anything more than what you saw on the beach tonight.” He paused and added, “Or didn’t see.”
She blinked, unable to believe he’d just said that to her. Had he really just said that to her?
Then the rest of what he’d said hit her with a cold knife of pain that seemed to go right through her chest. “Did you have sex with them?”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The “What do you fucking think” expression said it all.
She felt destroyed. Everything she’d thought...
She’d been wrong. Horribly wrong.
“Look, I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” he said a little more gently. “You’re a nice girl. But you can’t goaround throwing yourself at men like that. Not everyone will pull away.”
Ouch. Direct hit. He didn’t need to say it. The “get lost” was clear.
Roger that.
Her confidence was sunk, her heart shattered, leaving only what remained of her pride. “Right,” she said flatly. “The next time I decide to do that, I’ll make sure it’s with someone who has all your experience. It must be tiresome having women always throwing themselves at you.”
He gave her an uncertain look, as if he couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not.
She was. “Sorry to bother you, Dynomite.”Asshole.“Don’t worry. It won’t happen again. It was my mistake.”
One she wouldn’t make again. Ever.
Brittany needed to remember that now. Somehow he’d managed to time-warp her back five years for a few minutes, but she wasn’t an impressionable twenty-two-year-old girl anymore. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice—or for the third time, if you counted the temporary lapse of sanity in the bar.
He was gorgeous and a fun guy to be around, but the one guy/one girl thing was totally beyond him. And as she didn’t do meaningless sex—or threesomes—she wasn’t in danger of falling for his act again.
The fact that she’d very nearly just fallen apart at a kiss didn’t mean anything. Of course, he could kiss like a dream. God knew, he’d had enough practice.
By the time he’d pushed her through the door of his house—not an apartment—and plopped her none too gently on a couch that looked as if it had been made out of material from a cheap, rip-off Chanel suit in burnt-orange polyester, she’d recoveredallof her senses. Even the ones that would normally be a little dazzled by sucha gorgeous specimen looming over her and directing all that angry masculine energy at her with eyes narrowed, jaw muscle ticking, and fists clenching.
Did he actually think he could intimidate her?
She would laugh if she weren’t so angry. She narrowed her eyes back at him. “I’ve had a long day, Johnny, and I don’t appreciate being manhandled and pushed around. What the hell is going on here, and where is my brother?”
Five
John was so angry, he didn’t think. Which seemed to be a frequent occurrence around Brittany. It wasn’t just the kiss or that she was here—in Finland, for fuck’s sake!—but if anyone found out the truth...
“Gone,” he snapped.
Dead. Just like they all could be if someone had followed her and learned that not all of them had perished in Russia.
He regretted the harsh response as soon as he said it. Though “gone” could be interpreted a couple ways, she knew instantly what he meant and flinched as if he’d struck her. But her shock seemed to be from the abrupt manner of delivery, not from the content of the message. “He’s dead,” she said with toneless finality.
John debated lying to her again. He probably shouldn’t be confirming or denying anything to her, but he just couldn’t do it. She’d somehow known that Brand was dead, and he’d given her false hope. He couldn’t prolong it.
He nodded.
But it didn’t make the pain in her eyes any easier totake as she stared at him with that stark, hollow look on her face.
“Damn it,” he said, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I’m sor—”
He didn’t get the apology out. Suddenly, she jumped up from the couch to face him. It wasn’t without effect, but probably not the effect she intended. His nerve endings flared with instant awareness. And all those wrong feelings he’d had from that kiss? They were back. Full force.
