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“You wouldn’t tell your fianceé about your feelings,” I repeated. “So are your friends supposed to believe that I am just the stupid ditz who wandered through your party last night?”
“You’ll have to earn my trust for me to talk about my parents. I assume you don’t want to talk about yours?”
I shook my head. “Orphan.”
It was easiest to keep cover stories close to real life.
He nodded. “Probably easiest that way.”
I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the story, or if he just wished his parents dead. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about it yet.
“What’s my nickname for you?” I asked him.
“Sir.”
“Seriously.” I kept my lips parted as I began to apply my mascara. I didn’t know why that helped.
He had moved closer to me, and now he ran his thumb over my lower lip before it slipped between my teeth. I set the mascara wand down on the counter, feeling something inside me wobble.
“Seriously,” he said. “But we’ll come to that later. My friends will know—as will my father, and he is the one you’ll have to worry most about convincing—that while I might play with stupid girls, they’re not actually to my taste.”
” And what is your taste?” I asked.
“Sophisticated. Smart. Submissive.”
“While alliterative, those are three traits you don’t usually hear combined.”
“That’s because most people are stupid. They don’t realize the power a submissive holds over the dominant.” He tilted his head to one side. “I really don’t think you’re like most people. But I hope you won’t disappoint me.”
“You don’t have to remind me on a daily basis that you could kill me. Though I notice that you aren’t wearing your gun right now so you must assume that I have a chance of doing the same if we met in a fair fight.”
“How observant of you. I’m fascinated that you studied my body so closely. But don’t worry about me. I never fight fair.”
“I assumed not, knowing your father.”
His hand skimmed up my back, raising goosebumps with his slow soft touch. When he reached the nape of my neck, my back arched faintly despite myself.
Then his hand fisted the hair at the nape of my neck. I let out a soft gasp as he pulled me close, forcing my head back to meet his gaze as he drew me against his hard body. The scent of his expensive cologne enveloped me again.
“I am nothing like my father,” he said. “and you should be very thankful for that.”
He released me. My knees felt weak. He spun and headed for the door.
“Be ready in forty-five minutes.”
“I have more questions.”
“Then you shouldn’t have pissed me off.”
I followed him out of the bathroom as he headed for the door. “What do your friends know about me?”
“Absolutely nothing.” He said. “Which won’t be too surprising to them. Women are generally irrelevant in our world until they make themselves relevant.”
There was a distinct challenge in that line.
Aiden would find I was quiterelevantwhen I was the last thing he saw before I killed him.
CHAPTER6
