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The redness from Patricia’s slap had faded, only the slightest tinge of pink remaining.
“Contemplating slapping me?” he joked, always with that deadpan voice.
“Not yet,” she murmured. “But I suspect it’s just a matter of time.”
He chuckled, and she was completely taken aback by it, even though she couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t a wholly happy sound.
There was a tiredness in his eyes that she didn’t think was driven by the late hour. She recognized it because it was the same thing she saw whenever she looked in the mirror.
She was lonely…and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. So along with the loneliness, she carried around a boatload of resignation.
She wanted off this particular treadmill. And it looked like Matt did too. She was beginning to feel like he might be a kindred spirit, that he was as lonely as she was. But there was something else there as well, something lurking deep beneath the surface.
He was…haunted. It was the only word she could think to describe it.
It called to her in ways she couldn’t explain, couldn’t understand. The only thing she did know was…this thing between them…
It was dangerous.
Chapter Four
Liza pushed away again. And he let her go. She was wrestling with a decision.
Sleep with him or walk away.
In truth, he should be facing the same dilemma because she wasn’t wrong when she called this a mistake.
Unfortunately, any internal debate ended the moment his lips touched hers in that elevator. Hell, it had probably ended during that dance, when his fingers stroked her smooth, soft back.
He wanted her. More than he’d ever wanted another woman, and he was arrogant enough, cocky enough about his skills as a lover, to know he could seduce her into his bed.
But he didn’t want to resort to seduction. He wanted her to come to him willingly, without reservation, so he’d made more small talk, showed her as much of himself as he was able, in hopes that it would be enough to convince her to spend the night with him.
Liza resumed her previous spot, leaning back against the arm of the couch, turned sideways to face him.
“It’s late,” she mused.
“It is.”
“I should be face down in a pillow by now, especially after the week I’ve had, but instead I…”
“Second wind?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
He felt the same. His mind kept telling him he should be sleepy, but his body hadn’t gotten the word yet, too focused on the gorgeous brunette sitting next to him.
She was absentmindedly toying with the ribbon on a present he’d stashed on the table behind the couch earlier today. It was meant to be Patricia’s Christmas present, but she hadn’t taken well to his assertion that they should stop seeing each other.
Part of him had been surprised by her response because he didn’t doubt for a moment that she had no feelings for him apart from sexual desire and a strong attraction to his bottom line. If she was a gold digger, perhaps he could understand her losing her shit and slapping him. But Patricia was wealthy in her own right. She didn’t need his money. She just wanted it.
His surprise faded when she mentioned Liza, pointed out the way he’d been staring at her all night. He hadn’t hurt Patricia’s heart; he’d wounded her pride. She demanded the attention and admiration of every man in her vicinity, and because she was beautiful, she was accustomed to receiving it. She’d been livid that Matt had made the cardinal mistake of finding another woman more beautiful.
Once he understood the reason for her fury, the slap made sense, and he’d taken it as his due. Because he had been staring at Liza.
Liza suddenly realized what she was doing. She stopped fiddling with the package, picking it up. “Was this for Patricia?”
“It was.”
