“Conservative. You never fool around. Never take risks like that.”
Like what—fucking the enemy in the back seat of his car? “Am I a coward then? Boring?”
Hunter looked wary. “Connor, if you want me to stick around a couple days—”
“Thanks but you finally got a lead on your coffee queen. And I got this. I have nothing to hide. I’ve never done anything outside the law. Nor has Rex.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s not a bastard.”
Connor closed the door after Hunter, hating that his buddy was always right.
He was going to check on her.
He took the SUV and slowly drove along the snowy roads to her apartment. He’d silenced her last night and that had surprised him. He was sure she wasn’t about to give up already, she’d come too far and was too strong for that.
But the way she’d answered his kiss, the way she’d lost herself in his touch made him burn.
That was the one way he could get to her.
He remembered her whispered desire to forget it all when she’d not known who he was. That need for escape had lit an answering wish deep within him. That’s what he wanted again. To drown in the heat of her body, revel in the downright animal intensity of her drive—she’d fucked her way to forgetting everything. With him.
So even though she brought threat, she also offered respite. Because for just a few more moments he didn’t want to have to think. Didn’t want to be responsible. But he was responsible not just for his company, but the whole damn mountain. And he wasn’t going to let Savannah Nash damage any of it. Not even slightly.
But perhaps the cause of his problem could also offer the solution.
He’d keep this enemy very, very close.
He banged on her door, not stopping the pounding for a full five minutes.
“Alright.” She shouted.
Finally. He glanced down at his fist, stretched out his fingers and grimaced.
“Go away Connor.” Her voice came muffled through the door.
She must have looked through the peephole.
“No,” he answered flatly.
“What?” She snapped as she opened the door. “It’s early and I was sleeping.”
Stunned he took in the brevity of her clothing. Tank top. Panties. Both black. Both tiny. Both clinging to her slim curves. She looked so sexy and tousled, he was hard in an instant. “Are you alone in there?”
Fury flashed in her eyes.
Good. That made two of them feeling it. Again.
“You didn’t answer my text,” he said.
“Because I was asleep.”
“I can see that.” He rubbed his head, thrown by all that glorious skin. He’d not seen this much of her the other night. His tongue gummed to the roof of his mouth. Adrenalin juiced through his muscles, priming him to the point of pain.
“What did you want—to warn me off some more? It won’t work.” She took the aggressive stance.
His anger bubbled. “Who’s going to listen to a word you say now? And you know what they’re going to say about you.”
“Ah, the old, double standard.” She nodded. “Because I was slutty enough to have a one night stand with you, nothing I can say can be believed?” She wrinkled her pretty nose. “What makes you think I give a damn about what anyone says about me?” She stepped into the open doorway, her almost naked body exposed to anyone walking by. “It can’t be anything worse than what’s been thrown at me before,” she sneered. “But here’s the thing, Connor. Mud sticks. Even if it’s me, your ‘once-only’ throwing the mud. Some of the mud will still stick. Some of what I can say will make people pause. Make people question. So there’ll be damage. Don’t doubt that.”
Goddamn she turned him on. Like some half-naked Valkyrie, she stood with her head held high, proud and unashamed of her actions. Relishing her threat.
His hands curled into fists and he punched them into his jacket pocket to stop himself shoving her back through the doorway and taking her hard against the wall.
He wanted her. Now. Screw the consequences and stupid complications.
All that mattered was getting hold of her and working all that fantastic energy and passion.
And for all the other mess to just melt away for those moments when he was in her.
Rein. It. In.
He’d control this. He was not his father.
“The only things about to suffer damage right now, are your extremities.” He tried to play it cool. His gaze ran over her. “Maybe you better get some clothes on, you look… chilled.”
“Not at all,” she answered softly. “The cold can’t hurt me.” She smiled wickedly. “And I’m going straight back to bed.”
The vixen knew he was burning and had decided to stoke the flames. And that changed everything. That she wanted it as much as he?
“Best place for you,” he murmured huskily, ready to push her back through the doorway and kiss her all the way to yes.
But his phone buzzed.
Saved by the freaking bell.
He pulled it out. Hunter’s name flashed at the top of the screen, but it was the text that stunned him.
Spotted three amateur pharmacists in Penworth. Thought you’d want to know.
Those assholes who’d hurt Savannah? Connor’s muscles snapped. Penworth was another resort only an hour or so’s drive away. Less than half an hour in the helicopter. He shoved his phone back in his pocket.
“I have to go.” He swivelled on his heel, not looking at her again else he wouldn’t leave at all. “I’ll check on you later.”
“Don’t bother.”
Oh god, she was going to kill him with her attitude. He was fucking it out of her. Soon.
“Of course I’ll bother.” He turned on the bottom step, still not letting himself look again. “We have unfinished business.”
But he had other unfinished business to see to first.
Chapter Ten
Savannah bristled and slammed the door. She didn’t want to be checked on later like some problem child. She’d wanted him to step inside and press her against the wall. Kiss her. Touch her. Take her.
And for a moment, he’d looked like he was about to. And he’d looked as pissed off as she felt. She’d wanted to vent her anger and frustration on him. Use him again to find those moments of mindlessness and release. That relief.
Stupid, stupid body.
Snatches of the night’s dreams flashed in her mind. Connor had featured in every one. But he’d walked away without a second glance.
Unfinished business?
It wasn’t sex he was talking about. It was her threats. Empty threats.
What did she think she could really say about his father? She had no real dirt on him. Nothing other than the poor taste of dishing out share tips like he was tossing after dinner mints to beggars outside a banquet. But the arrogance of it galled her.
She’d spent the night wondering about Connor. The icicle? Was he really a workaholic?
It didn’t fit with the idea she had of him as being a spoilt playboy. Hadn’t he been born into an empire? He’d never had to go a day wondering where the next rent check was coming from because he owned the whole freaking town… he wasn’t that driven, was he?
When she went into work Luca smiled at her. “Thanks so much, last night was a record for us.”
“Great.” What with the entertainment she and Connor had provided and all, everyone had been extra thirsty. She readied the bar, gave Dante another lesson. Tried to keep as busy as possible.
But there was the door-checking thing.
Every. Single. Time… that freaking door opened she looked up—her heart seizing.
Every. Single. Time… it wasn’t him, she breathed again.
Connor didn’t show for the entire shift. She was not disappointed. It wasn’t like she’d been mentally sparring with him all day. Thinking up come-backs to imaginary accusations and flirts. Nope. None of that.
She worked hard, glaring at
Luca when he dared ask if she was feeling alright. If she was okay for a ride home.
“I’ll be fine.” Back on her own. Just the way she liked it.
And the sooner she got the bar tidied, the sooner she’d be walking swiftly home alone again.
Two minutes past closing, Connor walked in. Damn doorman must’ve thought he was on staff or something.
“You serve him,” she told Luca.
“I don’t think that’s what he wants.”
“I don’t care if that’s not what he wants,” she snapped.
But Luca was already walking out to the kitchen.
“Traitor,” she called after him.
Connor stepped up to the bar. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Late?” She pressed her hands on the wood. “What are you late for?”
“A really cold reception.” He smiled. “I’ll take a beer.”
She turned and pulled one from the fridge.
But when she put the bottle on the bar she saw the swollen, bruised knuckles on his left hand. Her heart skidded as her blood turned to icy slush. “What did you do to yourself?”
He stretched out his fingers with a wince, then curled them round the bottle. “What do you think I did?”
She didn’t want to think. “I’m not a fan of violence.”
“Nor am I.”
She hesitated. “Was it...”
“The jerk who put that crap in your drink? Yes. It was.”
“Did you go after him?”
“Yes.”
Appalled, Savannah’s head spun. What had he been thinking? Those guys were psychopaths.
He really thought he was King of the Mountain, didn’t he? Like it was his freaking duty to take care of each of his subjects? “I didn’t need you going off to protect my honor.”
His lips twisted. “But I was honor bound to help you.”