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Even her relationship with his father didn’t seem to impact the desire he personally felt for her, which was a troubling development. Not ever, in his entire life, had he imagined he’d be lusting after the same woman his father had bedded.
The sooner he got this squared away, the better.
She crossed the street as though it were a stage and she a prima ballerina, so his eyes were glued to her against his will. As she drew near, he stepped out of the car, willing himself to ignore the fierce explosion of need that was already turning him hard.
“Phoebe.” He greeted with a cool dip of his head. “I’m glad you came.”
“I wasn’t aware I had much of a choice.”
“Nonetheless, this is better than the alternative.”
“Which is?” She challenged, her dark hair caught up in a bun high on her head, with pretty little tendrils escaping down either side of her neck.
“Carrying you kicking and screaming over my shoulder like a recalcitrant child.”
Her lips parted, so delectably, pillowy soft and sweet. He couldn’t help but stare at them. “You wouldn’t dare.” Her tongue darted out, licking the outline of her mouth. Did she have any idea what that small gesture was doing to him?
“Want to bet?”
He saw the way she shivered and hardened a little more. Suddenly, he wanted her to challenge him. He wanted an excuse to reach for her, to grab her, to hold her body to his. It galvanized him into action. He walked around to the front passenger door, opening it without looking at her.
“Inside.”
She made a small sound of disapproval. “Barking commands at me? How very civilized. It’s quite clear you didn’t get your manners from your father.”
“Oh, I’m sure he went out of his way to flatter and charm you, Phoebe. Don’t expect the same from me.”
“I only meant that he was a gentleman at all times, in every way. And you, well, you’re—,”
“Go on.” He stared at her now, goading her with his body language.
“You’re hateful,” she snapped, stamping her foot before stomping around to the side of the car. “I mean that. You’re absolutely hateful.”
“And it would be best if you remembered that.”
The words held a warning; he could only hope they would both heed them.
* * *
For several minutes,she was capable only of focusing on his extraordinary skill and power as a driver. The thrum of the sleek black sports car—flash without being ostentatious—was palpable, but that wasn’t why she felt heat radiating from low down in her abdomen. No, that came down to her awareness of the man at her side, and the way he flicked the gear stick as he maneuvered the streets, his fingers on the wheel catching her eye and capturing her imagination, making her all too vividly aware of what it had been like to be touched by him.
So focused was she on the minute details of Anastasios’ driving that it was several blocks before Phoebe spun in her chair to question him. “Where are you taking me?”
His fingers gripped the wheel tighter, his knuckles showing white.
“Somewhere that we can speak freely.”
“My apartment wouldn’t suffice?”
He cocked her a look of mockery. “I barely fit into your apartment.” He gave his attention back to the road, turning left then pulling up at lights. “Besides which, we should avoid any situation that puts us within six feet of a bed.”
She couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped as he confronted the desire sparking between them head on.
“Then where?”
He turned to her once more, before accelerating the car as the lights turned green. “Does it matter?”
“I guess I like to know where I’m going, yes. Call me crazy, but I’m used to a degree of control over my life.”
