“Your idol thought so.”
The headache that had been forming since the pounding on my door started erupted full force. “It’s far too early to deal with you.” I went to the door, opened it, and then stared at him pointedly.
“Have breakfast with me.”
I looked at him like he had fifteen heads and not one of those fifteen had a brain. “Are you on drugs?”
His white teeth flashed when he smiled. “Get your coat.”
I looked at myself. “I’m still wearing my pajamas.”
He looked at my sleep pants and T-shirt pointedly. “Oh, is that what those are? I can’t tell the difference between your day clothes and these. Both are equally ridiculous.”
My mouth fell open. Then snapped shut. Then fell open again. “What did you just say to me?” I growled.
“Time’s a wasting. Wouldn’t want you to be late for work,” he said, pointing at the insanely expensive watch on his wrist.
Of course even at six a.m. he looked completely put together wearing dark trousers, black shoes, and a navy-colored crewneck sweater (probably cashmere) with a white T-shirt beneath it, and topping it all off was a black wool coat. Even his hair was perfectly styled to look effortlessly messy.
“You’re completely insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you,” I said, still holding the door.
He came over, and just when I thought he’d finally gotten the hint and was taking his sorry butt out the door, he stopped, grabbed the door from my grasp, and slammed it closed.
“We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way,” he said softly. There was a dangerous note to his voice. “You can come willingly or I can drag you out of this apartment by that blond hair of yours.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” I seethed.
“Try me.” He glared back.
We stood there glaring daggers at one another until I sighed. “Fine. But you’re buying me a coffee with caramel. And whipped cream.”
He smiled; it wasn’t a pleasant sight.
“Ugh! Put those white teeth away. It’s too early for me to have to see that.”
I swore I heard him laughing when I walked away. I didn’t bother to look back on my way to my closet, but I did yell over my shoulder, “Oh, and I’m going to need a donut! A big one.”
***
He took me to the Dunkin Donuts not far from the DMV. He wouldn’t let me drive, saying he knew the minute I got into my Jeep I would speed off into the morning and he didn’t feel like having to hunt me down.
Of course I was angry and hurled insults at him the entire time he was shoving me into his car. But once he shut the door behind me and I sank back against the buttery soft leather of the seat, I decided that maybe riding with him wouldn’t bethatbad.
He was driving a Porsche Cayenne, a crossover SUV that I knew probably set him back at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. It was white with a butter-colored leather interior and boasted upgrades such as heated seats (in the front and the back), navigation, surround sound, satellite radio, interior ambient light (which was actually rather soothing to my headache), and a freaking heated windshield. I didn’t even know you could heat a windshield.
I stopped checking out everything the minute he opened his door and slid in. The last thing I wanted him to see was that I actually liked his car. Then he might start thinking I liked him. Which was never gonna happen.
“Do me a favor and say nothing,” I said as he turned the car on and the seat warmer began to spread heat throughout my back. I wanted to sigh in pleasure.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved my Jeep and it was great in the snow, but it wasn’t luxurious at all. I mean my windowszippedopen and closed. This car was just pure luxury.
To my surprise he actually did as requested. The ride to the Dunkin Donuts was just too short. I actually found myself wishing it were further away so I could sit here longer, in the heat and leather with the soft hum of classical music playing in the background. Even after he parked and climbed out, I sat there, not ready to deal with whatever reason he dragged me out to breakfast.
In truth, I was exhausted. I didn’t get to bed until late because I’d been at that stupid charity ball and it took me an hour to get home. Then I tossed and turned half the night. I kept dreaming he was putting his hands all over me, and his lips… His lips were in places I actually never wanted them to be. So I would wake up frustrated and annoyed only to fall back asleep and have it happen all over again.
I was still committed to ruining his plans and hopefully run him out of Alaska to never be seen again, but I was also hoping for a little space, a little time to get over my embarrassment over how my body responded to him last night.
He opened the car door and leaned in, his face just inches from mine. “Did you plan on getting out?”
