But then he said, “I think I’d better take you back to your car now.”
You could kiss me first. “I’m in no hurry to go home.”
“Hmmmm.” The hand that was holding my cheek wandered south a little, fingers curling around my neck. It was a strange way to hold me, a strange place. But it excited me, thrilled me. “You don’t know me. Maybe it’s better you keep it that way.”
“What do you mean? Of course I know you. I’ve known you for years.”
“But not really.”
I didn’t understand. Was he hiding something? Was he not the man I thought? What I saw was a sexy man, a widower, an old friend, and a successful businessman who had turned his father’s one-man operation into a multi-billion dollar corporation. I also saw a man who could make my blood simmer with just a look. “What do you mean by that? Are you dangerous?”
“You might say that.” His hold on my neck tightened a tiny bit. It was just enough for me to notice, make me shiver a little, but not enough to make me really scared.
“Dangerous, how?”
“Just dangerous…” Moving fast, he grabbed both my arms and jerked them around my back. My heart jumped. I gasped. “Like this,” he said, tipping his head lower, whispering. “Dangerous, like needing things you might not be ready for.”
“What kind of things?”
He gathered my wrists into one fist and walked me backward until my body was smashed between him and the side of the restaurant. It felt so good, being trapped like this, powerless and waiting breathlessly for his next move. I didn’t have to wait long. His mouth slammed against mine. His lips smoothed over mine, and his tongue shoved into my mouth. He tasted so good, like man and wine. He felt so good, hard and hot. He smelled so good too, of need and woodsy cologne.
I surrendered willingly. His kiss was a possession. Hard and demanding and feral. Intoxicating. Wild rushes of erotic need slammed through me with every flick of his tongue, and I moaned into our joined mouths. I ached. I wanted more. I needed more.
When he broke the kiss, I whimpered. He didn’t back away. His body was crushed against mine, and I was so glad about that. My pelvis rolled forward and back in time to the pounding heat throbbing in my center.
“Dammit.” He jerked back, stared at me.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re Katherine’s daughter.”
“So what? I’m an adult.”
“But—“
“But, what?” I didn’t understand what his problem was. Clearly, he was feeling guilty because he was Mom’s old friend. But that wasn’t a problem for me. “Like I said, I’m an adult.”
“Yes, so I can see.” As if to illustrate, his gaze shifted south, landing at roughly boob level.
“So, treat me like one.”
His eyes narrowed for a brief moment. Then he took my hand in his. “Okay.” He hurried me back to his car, circled around the rear to open my door. Once I was in my seat, he went around to the driver’s side, folded his large frame into his seat and within seconds we were roaring down the road. “But I have an idea you’ll change your mind about this.”
Chapter 2
What the hell is this?
I was stunned.
I was speechless.
I was in complete shock.
I had been wrong, when I’d thought I knew Shane Trant. How wrong I had been.
We were at his house, which was completely gorgeous. It was one of those high priced condos in town. He had the top two floors of an industrial building turned luxury condominiums. Huge and gorgeous, furnished with stuff that looked expensive and probably cost a crap ton of money. Recently, I’d started watching home design shows on TV. I’d developed something of an eye for quality. Shane’s house was like a showroom, full of priceless antiques, mixed with sleek, high-priced contemporary furniture. An interesting combination.
Something like the man, himself, now that I thought about it.
That had come as no surprise. I’d expected he would have a nice home.
The problem was one particular room. This one.
It was, for lack of better words, a torture chamber. Dotting the landscape were pieces of creepy looking furniture with big metal rings and heavy chains bolted to it. And in one corner stood a human-sized metal cage. And there were rings bolted to the floor and ceiling. What were those for? I shuddered as I imagined a woman chained up, begging to be freed.
His bulky body was leaning against the doorframe, blocking my exit. “So, now you see why I told you I couldn’t…I wouldn’t take things to the next level?” he asked. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. And I want you. But I’m not the man for you. Because this is what you get.”
“I didn’t know.” I was hugging myself, arms wrapped protectively around my torso.
“You know now.” He motioned for me to leave the torture chamber.
I just couldn’t believe it. This…awful place…belonged to Uncle Shane. Handsome, mysterious, sexy Shane Trant. My mother’s oldest and dearest friend.
Wow. Just…wow.
Dammit. Why? You’re such a sexy, intelligent, fascinating man. Why do you need this?
“Can I get you something to drink before I take you home?” as he stepped to the side to let me pass.
The shock, maybe the gaping, had given me a bad case of cotton mouth. “That would be nice, thanks.” I followed him to the open living-slash-kitchen space. He went to the refrigerator, no doubt top of the line. My gaze wandered around, taking in the expensive furnishings, gorgeous chandelier hanging over the dining table, artwork. By the time it had made its way back to Shane, he was looking at me expectantly. He’d asked me a question.
“What was that?” I asked, my face warming. “I’m sorry.”
“What can I get you to drink?”
Something with a lot of alcohol. “I’ll take water. Thanks.”
“I have some of this flavored water. How’s that?” He pulled a white and pink bottle from the refrigerator. I recognized the label immediately.
“Perfect. My favorite.”
“Mine too.” He filled a tall glass with ice then poured some of the faint pink-colored water to the top.
I scurried over, accepted the glass with a smile and a thanks, and guzzled half of it in one long gulp.
“Thirsty?” he asked, his voice bouncing with laughter.
“A little.” I drained my glass, and he reached for it.