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There’s a bristling silence.
Then Reid makes a soft, exasperated sound. “I see we’ll get nowhere with this discussion now.”
I can barely see him around Holt’s broad, grungy, tightly muscled back, but I make out him dipping his hand into his suit for something—before he leans around Holt and offers me a business card.
“If you change your mind, Ms. Potter, you know where to find me. There’s still time to do something sensible. I’m trying to help you,” he insists.
I just stare at him flatly.
I’m not taking that stupid card.
He seems to realize it when he pulls his hand back with another barely-there sigh.
“Fine. Good day to you both, then.”
Good day?
I don’t breathe a word as he turns around and walks back inside The Nest with stiff strides that do nothing to dispel the idea that he’s a machine in a human skin.
But the second the door closes and Holt turns to me with that self-satisfied look on his smug-ass face?
Yep, I lose it.
“What was that?” I snarl. “Who asked you to do that?”
Holt’s face blanks. “Uh? That’s the guy from the bank, right? He was bothering you.”
“Duh, that’s the guy from the bank. Yes, he was bothering me. No, I didn’t need you to come swooping in trying to white knight me, Holt. I had it under control.”
That actually gets me a skeptical, amused look as Holt cocks his head. “From the way I saw it, your idea of ‘under control’ involves three to five years in prison for assault. Think you wouldn’t even be able to talk old Sheriff Langley out of bringing charges.”
“They’d never convict me.” I narrow my eyes, clenching my fist. “And I really doubt anyone would take me to court over pelting your sorry ass, either.”
Holt just grins, slow and dark, his teeth white against that sinful black beard. “You gonna hit me now, Libby? Your hero?”
Holy hell. No, that did not just come out of his mouth.
“Not if you look like you’re gonna enjoy it so much!” I sputter.
He laughs, rich and full and deep.
The sun catches those strange whiskey-eyes, turning them into pure, glittering gold. “You’re a violent little pixie, aren’t you?”
“You really hankering to find out how violent?”
I’m so not ready when he steps closer.
When he fills up the space around me, I realize I had no clue what summer heat really was until I felt him. His body too close to me, and now I can smell him, too—the scent of concrete and masculinity and hard work.
Something hot and sharp underneath that should smell bad, but it just gets me dizzy with…
With him.
Ugh. I hate the weird, tingly feeling cutting through me.
It’s like a million sparks going off, and I want to just scream with the rawness and wildness of it burning up inside me.
It’s got to be a trick.
There’s no earthly way I actually want Holt Silverton.
Hell to the no.
Especially when I start feeling awfully dirty myself. His eyes dip over me, and he leans down, purring in his rough, velvet voice.
“Go ahead, little lady,” he breathes. “Hurt me.”
I do the only thing I can.
What feels like a reflex with him.
I slam my hands against his chest and push until my arms burn.
It feels like a desperate act of self-preservation.
Because something about him does something to me when he’s this close.
It’s like pheromones getting up in my head, drugging me, turning my brain into mush while my whole body just ignites.
It’s like I can feel the anger he inspires in me all over my nerve endings, but that heat…
That heat ain’t rage.
I gulp a deep breath. He moves a step back. Barely.
This time, on steady ground, there’s no knocking him off-kilter.
Guess them big old steel-toed workman’s boots are a heck of a lot sturdier than dress shoes. Or maybe I just grossly overestimated my own strength against a titan.
But he’s watching me with his eyes narrowed.
It’s like we’re playing poker, and I just gave away my hand.
Screw him, I’m not out yet.
I fold my arms over my chest like I can contain my racing heart if I just cage it, slitting my eyes right back at him.
Two can play at this.
I can do those skin-stripping stares, too.
And we’re like two territorial cats as I ask, “Why’d you chase him off, anyway? Don’t you get everything you want if he takes my land?”
“Nah,” Holt says. “That delays my timeline and the town’s. The thing with government seizures is, I have to buy it at auction later. A lot more competition then. It could be years before they even put the land up. The city council wants to close on this mall deal this month.”
I can’t help rolling my eyes. “Nice to know you’ve got such altruistic motives.”
“Hear me out.” He spreads his hands. “There’s a way for us both to get what we want.”
