I grunt in surprise. “Not much of a confidence booster.”
She sets the last petal on the little pile she’s built. “Well, she has a unique way of imparting her opinions.”
“Are you trying to warn me off? Discourage me from getting too close?”
“I suppose I am.” She looks up at me. “Have I succeeded?”
A breath of time passes as we study each other. Two opponents taking stock of each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Our respective thorns.
“No, the opposite. You’ve failed. Miserably.”
A tiny vein pulses, almost imperceptibly, at Finley’s temple as she holds my gaze. I wish I knew what was going on inside her complicated mind. I don’t. But I do know that the attraction I’m feeling isn’t one-sided. Finley’s haughty resistance is more habit than anything else.
If we were strangers, meeting tonight for the first time, we’d already be pressed up against the nearest wall.
But the fact is, I am business partners with Damon King. Our bond is short and shallow. Finley’s ties to the man are long and go back years, decades. Right now, our interests are aligned … mostly. But that could change at any time. Tomorrow or next month or next year.
If King crosses me, or I cross him—which is probably only a matter of time—it’s in my best interest if I can walk away clean.
I should resist the urge to touch Finley. Resist the desire to kiss her and fuck her until my mouth is swollen and aching and my cock is limp.
But Finley is the only woman whose ever made my blood run hot and my heart beat fast. And I’ve lost so fucking much because of my family, because of Los Muertos. I refuse to lose her, too.
Actually, not even lose. To give up before I’ve tried.
So I press forward. “Since no one is waiting for you, what will you do after you leave here? Will you go home, or back to work?” I lower my voice to a gritted whisper, leaning closer. “Or somewhere else, perhaps. Maybe a dark, seedy bar … looking for someone to soothe the ache between your thighs.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Finley’s denial is rendered moot by the way she shifts in her seat, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs.
I set a hand over her knee, my fingers deftly caressing the delicate skin behind it. “What if I tell you I have every intention of fucking you until even your thorns become roses?”
She hesitates for a moment before answering. “I’d say, in my experience, men who make promises like that are incapable of delivering.”
Clarity sharpens my vision, allowing me to see beyond Finley’s beautiful face and bombshell body. I see the tangle of insecurity knotted beneath her skin, the reluctant hesitation that clings to each bated breath.
She is a woman who uses discipline and intelligence to segment her world from chaos into order. She compartmentalizes her sexuality so it doesn’t touch any other aspect of her life. The fact that I’m not someone she can simply fuck and forget is an obstacle she doesn’t know how to overcome.
And it only makes me want her more.
“There’s just one way to find out for sure.”
Finely pushes back her bar stool. “I’m good, thanks.”
4
Finley
I am not good. At all.
Beneath the aloof mask I somehow manage to keep on my face, desire rushes through my veins, vibrating inside my bones as I stride through the club, ignoring the small clusters of those who use Reign to conduct their business affairs.
Their business. And their affairs.
I stop only out of necessity at the bank of elevators.
But someone else beats me to the call button.
“What are you doing?” I drag my eyes away from the sight of Sebastián’s long, elegant fingers.