“I can’t.” When the words flee my mouth, they fill the air with an intense silence.
I know the world hasn’t passed away in this very second because I see the sparkle of New York City in Luxury’s eyes. Tongue swiping over her bottom lip in trepidation, she murmurs, “Are you some undercover royal or something?”
“Heh.” There’s another bloody first. I’m speechless, although I’ve had this same effect on a harem. I’ve murdered for Luxury Whitson, and the lovely creature simply hasn’t the slightest idea.
I killed Arnold for you. I’ll fuck over a prime opportunity with a secret assassin ring to spare another life.
But I simply can’t disclose such deviant delights because I’d not change myself for her. Not in the way it counts. So, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Why do you say . . . what was it? Undercover—”
“Because! Everything is about kissing your ass, Vic. Grand gestures included. You gave me the worst date of my life. Next, you ruined my first experience of receiving flowers. Argh, I already told you this.”
“What aboutthebestnight of your life, huh? And . . .” I’m seconds away from presenting my next step of atonement when she bites her eyes shut.
“Yes, best night of my life. But I’m sensing a trend, Vic. A date I wouldn’t wish on my worst bully in high school followed byinsurmountablepleasure. Another screwed up date—the double with Graham—the flower fiasco at the flower shop . . . and now, here you are fixing that.”
“Was it a fiasco, really?” Mouth tipped in a cocky grin, I stand, clutching the bouquet behind me.
Luxury folds her arms, which causes the towel to slide down her frame. She clutches at it a second before I can feast my eyes on her delicious, chocolate nipples and palm-worthy tits.
“Yes, a fiasco, Vic. Because the other night, you . . . you flirted, danced, andentertaineda woman who wasn’t me. Now, you wanna fix things.”
“What’s so wrong with that?”
“You cannot have your cake and eat it too!” Luxury’s eyes flicker over her shoulder at the raising of her own voice.
With wicked amusement in my eyes, I ask, “What’s cake for?”
“It’s . . .” Sighing, Luxury breaks off with the shake of her head.
“What shall I do with the cake, Luxury?” I reach through the window, my fingers skimming her cheek.
A glittering of longing flashes in her gaze. She executes the soft, silky voice that brings a massive rise out of my cock. “Don’t say cake like that.”
“Like what?” I groan and lean in, nibbling the hollow of her neck. “Don’t say cake like this?”
“No,” she snips as I start to climb over the windowsill. “Did I invite you in?”
Clutching the frame between us, I grovel. “Luxury, you must forgive me.”
“Don’t say my name like that either.”
Concealing a grin, I widen my stance. “I’ve asked to explain.”
I search Luxury’s face, but her eyes rivet every other direction but my own. “Good night, Victor.”
“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow night.”
She deadpans, “I’d rather spend my Friday night bleeding my wrists into a bed of roses.”
“On the contrary, you’ll want to say yes.”
“Oh?” She bubbles with barely contained laughter.
“Because you’re pleased with my flower choice, you appreciate the gesture, and you’re quite fond of me.”
“What is this, two truths and a lie? The first is true, by the way. Love the flower, amazing gesture. I don’t hate you, but I’ve developed an aversion to you. Likeextreme.”
“Alright, I’ll swap the third reason you’ll accompany me to dinner.”