I suspected I was staring back at him in exactly the same way.
“Thank you,” a cool male voice interrupted.
It broke the spell between us, and the man blinked, turning his gaze toward the person who’d just spoken. Irritation flitted through his eyes as he peered at Clay, but it vanished a heartbeat later.
Once again, the men conducted a wordless conversation as they exchanged a look, and the result of it did not make the man happy. He withdrew from me and slid his hand away from Clay’s leg, until he was no longer touching either of us.
We were silent while he pulled up his pants and clenched them closed with a fist. What had happened? The mood had turned cold as soon as Clay had thanked him—
Ecstasy and agony no longer lingered in my system, but my brain was slow to restart. What was it Clay had said earlier? How if I told the man thank you—it meant it was over and he was supposed to go downstairs?
Oh.
He’d just told his friend to leave.
The man climbed to his feet and cast his gaze down on me. It looked like he wanted me to say something, to ask Clay if he could stay, and I opened my mouth . . . but nothing came out. I was out of sorts and hadn’t a clue how to put what I was feeling into words.
So, the man turned and walked away, but rather than head for the stairs, he went the other way and disappeared into the restroom.
Clay extracted his hand from my top and refastened the clasps of my corset as I remained leaning against him, too stunned to move. Once my corset was closed, he pushed down the sides of my skirt so I was decent again, then shifted me in his arms so I was seated sideways. I stared at my legs draped over one of his, my heels on the couch.
He used a hand to turn my head toward his, and his mouth sealed over mine. His kiss was slow and methodical. Once again, it felt designed, and I couldn’t help but think it had an agenda. He used his kiss as a tool to pry everything else out of my head, to force my focus onto him.
And only him.
It worked. I was unaware the man had reappeared and was standing in front of us with his hands on his hips and a firm look on his face. His gray suit was back in place, and I was dressed, and we looked like we had earlier. As if the experience we’d shared hadn’t happened.
But it had. My underwear was still resting on the ottoman where he’d dropped it.
The man stared at Clay with demanding eyes, but the body beneath me filled with tension. Clay was displeased the man had returned.
“Thank you.” This time it was more forceful and a clear dismissal to his friend, who I was starting to suspect wasn’t exactly a friend.
The man’s tone was an even mixture of disbelief and offense. “Clay.”
“We had a nice time together,” he said. “Let’s not go ruining it.” When that didn’t get the results he wanted, Clay’s expression hardened. “Okay. Do you want your privileges revoked?”
The man jerked back as if Clay’s threat had physically landed on him, his face soured, and he threw a hand up in the air like an angry surrender.
Whatever, his eyes screamed.
Then he exhaled loudly, turned, and marched off like he couldn’t get away fast enough.
What in the world? I swallowed a breath and my tone turned skeptical. “You said you two are friends?”
“We are.” Clay’s arms settled around me, and some of the tension he’d had relaxed away. “It’s complicated.”
Obviously. When it was clear he wasn’t going to explain, I fought the urge to pry. He was private and not in a forthcoming mood right now. If I were easygoing about it, maybe he’d be more likely to open up to me later. “All right. Does your friend have a name?”
His shoulders lifted on a heavy breath. “No, he doesn’t because I was the one you were with tonight. There was no one else.”
Did Clay think the man would only become a separate person if I had a name assigned to him?
His mouth pressed to mine, erasing all my thoughts except for one. I was curious to a fault, and this complicated man was irresistible catnip to me. He was a mystery, and I would solve him, one way or another.
NINE
Clay flew to Jacksonville first thing Monday morning, and was gone all week.
Noir didn’t seem to mind. She was settling in nicely to her home and no longer hid from me when I came over for my nightly checks. In fact, it wasn’t long before she was trained to come running when she heard the chirp of the alarm system each time I opened the door.