Page 65 of The Bad Guy

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He leaned close to my ear, his whisper sending a shiver down my spine. “The deal is still on for the evening, you know.”

“I know.” This time, I intended to avoid any more interaction than necessary. I’d stay strong.

The car pulled into a private garage at the base of a shiny high rise. When the door closed, Sebastian helped me from the car and walked me to the elevator.

“The penthouse is wired similarly to the house. If you pass the front door, I’ll get an alarm. The elevator won’t open for you, and the stairwell has a keypad.”

I stepped onto the waiting elevator. “What if there’s a fire?”

“I’ll save you.” His matter-of-fact tone had me arching an eyebrow.

“You’ll save me? I didn’t think the bad guy ever saved anyone but himself.”

He entered a code for the penthouse, and the elevator doors closed. “You think I’m the bad guy?”

“I know you are.” I leaned against the back wall of the elevator as we moved smoothly upward.

He leaned next to me. “Every bad guy is the hero of his own tale.”

“Seriously?” I gawked at him in the reflective door. “The hero?”

“I saved you from that dimwit, gave you a castle full of your favorite things, and am prepared to lay down my life for you in case of fire or other calamity. What about all that?”

It was so insane that I couldn’t help but smile. “If I were a lit teacher, I would likely comment on the importance of perspective. Sadly, I’m a science teacher, so I can tell you, without reservation, that your facts are baseless conjecture.”

The doors slid open and revealed a luxurious penthouse with views that would take even a New York realtor’s breath away. Dark wood floors, floor to ceiling windows, and rich furnishings. Masculine and polished, the space had been meticulously decorated to fit Sebastian’s tastes. Simple, Spartan, but somehow luxurious at the same time.

I tried to make an unimpressed face, though the sunlight streaming through the windows kept drawing my eye.

“It’s not as nice as your little Trenton cottage, but it’ll have to do.” Sebastian closed the door behind us, then strode into the wide-open living room.

A noise from the kitchen caught my attention.

Rita stood at the expansive granite island and chopped strawberries. Her being here was whiplash on my mind; I’d just seen her at the house for breakfast.

“When did you get here?” I walked over to her.

“Mr. Lindstrom sent the helicopter for me.” She shook her head. “Never again. Dios mio, never again.”

I glanced at him over my shoulder as he fiddled with his phone. “Bringing your cook? You are spoiled.”

“No, I’m spoiling you.” He tapped his screen, and low music filtered through hidden speakers. “I usually order in if I’m in the city, but I brought Rita to make you more comfortable. She’ll stay in the suite below us. Though her services won’t be needed tonight. I’m taking you out.”

Out. Possibilities for escape blossomed in my mind and wilted just as quickly. Sebastian wouldn’t risk losing me in the city.

“Lunch will be ready in an hour.” Rita wiped her hands on her apron, then dropped the knife she’d been using into a metal lockbox.

I pointed at it. “Really?”

Sebastian sank onto a leather couch and put his feet up on the plush ottoman. “Really.” He waved his hand at the stunning view. “Now that we’re here, please regale me with your plan for escape.”

I snagged a strawberry from Rita and strode to the window. The ripe fruit burst in my mouth as I took in the equally mouthwatering cityscape. The sun floated high overhead in an azure sky, and Central Park beckoned from just a few blocks away.

“I’m glad you asked.” I turned and took in the navy polo that sat perfectly on his broad chest and the jeans slung low across his hips. “First thing is to kill you when you’re asleep, then raid your bank account, and finally escape to the Amazon where I will open my own world-class field school.”

He nodded. “Solid plan. I like it. Just one question, though. How are you going to take me out?”

I held my hands out and made a show of inspecting them. “I could strangle you.”

Rita gave me an awkward glance, then disappeared into a large pantry.

“I’m afraid you simply don’t have the strength necessary for that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. When I’m motivated—and I am—I can do just about anything.”

“Want to try it?” He patted his lap. “See if you have the strength before you fully commit to this plan?” The sparkle in his eye was damn sexy even though we were discussing his potential murder.

“No, thank you.”

“Do you have a plan B?” He let his gaze trail down my body. “One that gets even more physical than the strangling scenario?”

“How do you mean?”

“If you sat on my face, I’d be more than happy to suffocate, just so long as you came first. And I can guarantee you would.” He licked his lips.


Tags: Celia Aaron Billionaire Romance