Page 60 of Wicked Heat

“You have immediate access, right?” I ask as Ash comes back from the main house with a Louis Vuitton travel bag over his shoulder. “To the money, I mean. Because I need it by noon three days from now. And what are you doing with that?”

“Borrowing it,” he says, as he plunks the bag onto the bed and unzips it. He pulls out a sundress and passes it to me. “I think it’ll fit you.”

“It’s adorable,” I say, which is true. “But money? Access? Hello? It has to be an electronic transfer, so you’re set up to do that, too, right? Do you need to make some sort of arrangement with your bank? Should you call and let them know?”

He lifts his head, meets my eyes, then crosses to a chest of drawers.

I get the message—he’s got it under control.

I start to ask if I’m right about that, then tell myself to stop. To trust him. “Fine,” I say, after drawing a calming breath. Then I focus on the dress I’ve been carrying around. “Um, this?”

“We call that a dress,” he says. “It’s one I had immediate access to, so…”

I pick up one of the small throw pillows from the bed and toss it at him. “It’s Nikki’s, right?” I ask as he laughs and dodges the pillow. “Why are you handing it to me?”

He looks me up and down in a way that erases all the pillow-throwing laughter. “Because, Brianna,” he says in a voice laced with heat. “I want you in a dress.”

“Oh.” The change in the room’s atmosphere is palpable, and I hope I sound casual when I glance down at the tailored slacks and sleeveless blouse I’d worn for the interview. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Did you think I was bluffing about payment?”

My nipples go hard, and my cheeks heat as the pressure of need builds between my legs. I want what he’s calling a payment, and the only thing that bothers me is that he damn well knows it.

I tell myself that’s just fine. Yes, I ran from him in the past, but this time I won’t. I can’t because that’s the deal.

Which means that by the rules of our deal, we’ll both get what we want.

As if he’s reading my mind, the corner of his mouth quirks up, making him look like a sexy anti-hero from an action movie. He takes a step toward me, a raw heat filling the space between us. He’s going to touch me—I’m certain of it. Just as I’m certain that I’ll melt in his arms when he does. This isn’t a bargain. His terms aren’t really payment at all. He’s simply giving me the money and throwing himself in as a gift.

“Go ahead,” he says, once again looking me over in that hard, hot way he has. “Strip.”

The world shatters like ice.

Desire freezes in my gut, hard and painful, as a wave of fear washes over me. I reach out to steady myself, only to find that nothing is there, and suddenly, I’m tumbling to the ground, my knees unable to support me, my entire body turned limp and cold and afraid.

Strip.

That word. That voice.

Except it wasn’t that voice.

I scoot backward, then draw my knees up and hug them, telling myself over and over and over that it wasn’t him saying it. That I’m not trapped in a room. That I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

Through a tunnel a thousand miles long, I hear Ash’s voice calling my name. Then his hands on my knees. I twist, turning away from him, mortified as reality crashes back over me.

“Hey, shhh. It’s okay. Are you hurt?”

I don’t understand, then realize I’d landed hard on my elbow. I focus on that. The pain. Not the memory. Not the horror.

And little by little, I use that pain to help me focus so that I can follow Ash’s voice back to the world. Back to myself.

“I’m sorry.” My voice is small, like a child.

He’s crouching in front of me, and tentatively takes my hands. I don’t tug them away. “You don’t have a thing to be sorry for,” he says.

I see both understanding and a question in his eyes, like a man who knows that the moon is up in space, but he doesn’t have a clue how it got there. “Are you okay now?”

I nod, surprised that it’s true. Right now, with Ash beside me, I really am okay. I wait, knowing he’s going to ask me what happened. That’s when okay will turn into horrible. That’s when the nightmares will come dancing into the room despite the sun shining outside.