“Just like a Kane,” he replied with devastating calm, hating himself for every word that fell from his lips, not believing a single one of them. “Running away.”
She spun around. The air crackled. “Fuck off,” she said, her soft whisper more threatening than any scream. “Like I said, I’m working. So unless you want a tattoo, you can get the hell out.”
He stared at her, took in every perfect, enragedline of her body.I dare you to kiss me, she’d smirked that first time they’d gone out. Poking and prodding and demanding and taunting him until he’d pressed her up against her front door.
The scratches on his back faded every year, but he’d always carry her marks. And he’d take any reason to steal a few more minutes in her presence, to take a few more hits of these unwise emotions.
“Fine,” he heard himself say. “Then give me a tattoo.”
Chapter 2
LIVVY HADnever been good at maintaining rage, which had turned out to be quite the problem when it came to staying away fromcertainpeople she was supposed to despise with all her might.
She cracked out a laugh, her anger giving way to genuine amusement. “Shut the front door, Nicholas. Behind you, on your way out, I mean.”
He grew still when she laughed, but his dark blue eyes were expressionless. She supposed some people would call him cold, but she knew him too well for that. For all that he was three years older than her, they’d essentially grown up together. She’d seen him happy, devastated, grief-stricken, and angry.
Not since they’d broken up, though. Since then, she’d only seen him cool and controlled. Or hot, his face twisted in savage pleasure as he fucked her. Those were his default modes when it came to her. And she’d never let on how much she missed those other emotions.
“You don’t think I’m serious?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes and paced back to her table,unable to stand being so close to him. “You mean about my inking you? Yeah, no, I don’t think you’re serious.” She knew exactly why he was here, had figured it out the second she’d spotted him in his car, his features shadowy but unmistakable. The man might be brilliant when it came to business, but covert he wasn’t. He’d parked right under a streetlight.
Nicholas had always liked order. Black and white. And above all else, he was loyal to his family and C&O—or Chandler’s, as it was called now.
When something unexpected happened, when the patterns in his life were interrupted, his immediate instinct was to circle his wagons and make sure those two things were protected. And he was trained to see a Kane—even her, maybe especially her—as a threat.
She could never let him see how much that hurt her. Let him think she wanted nothing from him, except his body... and maybe not even that anymore.
A muscle in his square jaw twitched. His features were too blunt and harsh to be called pretty, but he was beautifully compelling in the same way a blade was. Sharp. Lethal. Devastating.
His fingers went to the knot of his tie. It took her a second to realize what he was doing.
Oh no. She tensed. No, no, no, not histie.Goddamn it.
Did he know? Could he possibly have any idea how much she loved watching him unfasten the Windsor knot at his throat?
Livvy traced her tongue under the edge of her upper teeth as the expensive silk whisked against Egyptian cotton. He carefully folded it around his hand, and she had to fight not to press her hand over her belly at the jump of excitement there. That deliberate, neat gesture always did something to her.
The times they’d come together over the years, he started the night like this. Tidy. Then she eroded every ounce of his control, until he was a naked, stripped animal, hungry for her.
She remembered the first time she’d taken notice of him in a charcoal-gray suit. She’d been fifteen, and he’d walked into her house with her brother, still wearing the corporate uniform he’d donned for his summer job at the family company. His lanky frame in the finely tailored dress slacks and jacket had made her look twice, then a third time.
He’d been wearing a red tie that day. She remembered, because it was the first time she’d imagined grabbing the thing and dragging his lips to hers. He’d gone from a family friend to the object of her teenage lust in a few seconds.
Bastard had imprinted on her. Now she was helpless against his formally clad figure.
Oh, he knew she was affected. He couldn’t be so dense. He must know because he was standing there allhot. Andsuited. And, and, and... rubbing his thumb over his tie like he knew exactly how she wanted him to drag it over her body. Or wrap her up in the silken bindings.
Stop. Drooling.
Nicholas neatly placed his tie in his pocket and pushed the sides of his jacket away, his hands on his hips. Asshole! What kind of sexy show-off power pose was that? Andwhydid she find it so sexy?
News at ten. Area woman finds powerful, confident man sexy. In other top stories, water is wet and puppies are goddamn adorable.
She averted her eyes from the way the jacket framed his white shirt stretched over his flat belly. Disciplined guy that he was, she bet he still woke up daily at five in the morning to work out. Every year she hoped she’d find him less attractive, but when she peeled that fucking delicious suit off him, he was all tight, lean, muscular flesh. All hers. For a night, at least.
“Where do you want me?”
