“Wait, wait, wait.” She stops, twists back toward me. Not only is this embarrassing, it’s a downright joke. “Look, Blair, I didn’t order these books.”
Her beautiful mouth quirks. “Like I said, I don’t judge, Devlin. What you read is your business. But I thought you didn’t need any help in the romance department.”
She says it with a little lilt to her voice, like it’s a challenge.
I smirk. “I assure you, Idon’tneed any help.”
“Oh, I know.” She folds her arms. “I’ve seen all your women.”
It’s my turn for a brow to lift in question. “Have you been looking through my windows?”
She gestures toward them in frustration. “Everyone looks in there. You don’t have curtains. We’re all witness to your exhibitionist behavior.”
“I have a bedroom.” It comes out seductively. Can’t help it. It’s my go-to voice.
“One that I’m sure will give someone herpes as soon as they step foot inside.”
With that, she starts to walk away again, and I can’t help but be both ticked off and completely turned on. But this woman isn’t getting away from me that easily. She’s like a rare bird. Once I’ve seen her, I must have more than just a glimpse. I want to own her.
“Now, hold on a minute.”
She pauses. “What do you want? I have things to do.”
What do I want, Devlin?What can I possibly say that will keep her in my presence for two more seconds? “What if I don’t want the books?”
She clicks her tongue. “Well, I’m not taking them back. There’s no telling where your hands have been.”
I chuckle. Oh, Blair. If she’snotjoking about STIs, then she’s joking about STIs. “Where would you havelikedmy hands to have been?”
Her face turns red. “I’m leaving.”
I scamper to catch up, and man, can she walk fast. “Sorry. That was a bad joke. Just so you know, my hands haven’t been anywhere bad. I’ve been working on an experiment.”
She lifts a palm, giving me the stop signal. “I don’t want to know the details. Whatever it is, it probably involves copious amounts of lubricant and penicillin.”
The fact that she’s insinuating my experiment involves sex is downright insulting, maddening and giving me a boner. “For your information, I wasn’ttellingyou any details.”
“Good. Because I don’t want them.”
I don’t know what makes me say what comes next. I really don’t. Probably my whole glutton-for-punishment thing that I need to talk to a psychiatrist about. Or maybe it’s the fact that she’s walking away and this could be the last time I see her before she’s engaged to someone else. A man who’s better for her, who’s right for her, who won’t give her a life of misery.
A man who’s better than me.
But even that thought doesn’t stop me from word vomiting, “Your ball’s tonight.”
She stops again. Turns around. Cocks her head and stares at me with fire burning in those perfect chocolate-colored eyes. “Why would you say that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She sucks in her cheeks and juts her hip out. “You’re not going to that dance.” It is a statement that sounds like a warning.
I throw attitude right back at her. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good.”
“Great,” I snap.
“Fantastic. Because Storm Grayson’s coming, and I don’t want you screwing things up for me.”
