She stared at him, regretting not making time to get to know him sooner. Work and, well, her fear of falling for someone again had held her back. But no longer. She smiled at him. “It’s all about perspective, and today, yours isn’t valid.” She lifted her glass toward him. “To Smithson Young, my protector, the most intelligent man I know, and the reason we’re sitting here having a drink instead of filling a coffin.”
He stared at her for a moment, his dark eyes traveling over her before his lip twitched upward, and he said, “To my friend Val, the voice in my ear and the spontaneity and vivaciousness that has made the last few months … interesting.”
Val laughed as he lifted his tumbler to touch her wine glass. She took a sip of the wine and leaned back against the couch. She wouldn’t let the night linger at “friend” if she could encourage a more physical realm. “So, have I made your life interesting in a good or bad way?”
Smithson shifted, so he was facing her. “Good for me. Bad for you.” He reached over and touched the ends of a lock of hair from her wig. “This isn’t you. You should take all this off. You don’t need makeup. No one should come here tonight.” He leaned forward and placed a tentative kiss on her lips.
She opened her eyes slowly and stared into his. He was right. There shouldn’t be any more interruptions. Most men didn’t care what she looked like as long as she was available. Smith was the first to ask her to be herself with him. Well, the first since her husband. But that was a different chapter of another story altogether, wasn’t it? “Me without makeup isn’t a pleasant sight,” she whispered.
He dropped another kiss on her lips and spoke softly as they separated. “Indulge me.” He leaned back and stared at her. “Please.”
Oh, hell, there was desireandheat in that look. She shivered, making sure he saw the reaction he drew from her. “I’ll be back.” She stood and grabbed her glass of wine. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Smith raked her body with his eyes. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”
* * *
He watchedher go into the bedroom, and when she disappeared, he threw back the rest of his Scotch and stopped breathing as it burned down his throat. Liquid courage was what a few of his low-brow acquaintances on the streets of New York had called it.
He stood and made his way to the liquor cart again, filling his tumbler. As he stared at the amber liquid, he tried to come to terms with what he thought would happen that night. He drew a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. His experience with sex ended years ago when Simmons presented that falsified video and birth certificate to him. He closed his eyes for a moment. He’d been celibate for years. Not out of some higher calling but out of self-preservation. Val had been the only woman to pursue him, and he had no idea why. She claimed the interest in him wasn’t a game. He’d never known her to lie, but then again, they weren’t social until Mrs. Henshaw’s funeral.
He heard the shower turn on and took a sip of his drink. He was a fool. Any man in his position would take what was offered. His hesitancy wasn’t because of a lack of attraction. Val’s beauty was world-class, so her attraction to him was confusing. Smith glanced at the mirror and took stock of what he saw. At best, he was average looking, and that was stretching it. He was big-boned with a sharp jaw, thick muscles, and dark hair. The clothes she purchased didn’t hang loosely like the clothes he bought. He liked how they fit, but he shouldn’t get used to expensive things.
Smith knew exactly who and what he was. He was an enforcer. He knew how to fight, how to follow orders, and how to clean up the messes of his bosses. He knew the underbelly of New York like Val knew the inside of a Hermes boutique. No, he wasn’t the type of man to be her companion or to take her to the opera or theater, although he’d love to go. His escorting her would be caustic for her. He couldn’t hide in public, and the looks he received when he walked down the streets of New York told him that people either feared him or had nothing but disdain for him. He’d grown less concerned about both as the years had gone by, but Val’s association with him could affect her status, which was something he didn’t want to happen.
Smith took another sip of his drink. His mind was made up. Tonight, he’d spend the night with Val. A single night in heaven’s arms. Tomorrow, he’d return to the hell he knew and live out the rest of his life. Guardian didn’t need him, and he could find work. He’d always survived. He always would. There was continuous work for enforcers.
The shower turned off, and he took another sip of his drink. Nothing like the rotgut he bought at the corner market a few times a year. He didn’t drink much. A man in his position didn’t have that privilege. He needed to be aware of his surroundings at all times. When caring for Mrs. Henshaw, he’d needed to be available for her night and day. Alcohol, while a nice diversion from life, wasn’t a huge player for him.
When he heard her padding across the floor, he turned toward her. Sweet heavens, the woman took his breath away. The wig was off, and her blue eyes again met his gaze. She had no makeup on, and she didn’t need any. Her full lips tipped at the corners. “I told you.”
“You’re beautiful.” The words escaped in a breath of honesty.
She moved, and the silk robe flowed around her body, teasing what was under the soft fabric. The tantalization worked, his body roared to life, and the fire at the base of his spine ignited, sending lightning bolts of sexual awakening through his nerves. She stopped and poured herself a glass of wine before moving toward him.
Val moved into his personal space. The erotic scent of her soap and the knowledge she had nothing on under the robe caused his hand to tremble. He gripped the tumbler tighter. The woman filled in every dream of the perfect lover he’d ever had. She was mesmerizing.
“Are you hungry?” She purred the words.
“Famished,” he admitted. It was the truth, and God help him; he wanted to bury himself inside her. He slid his hand through her hair at the base of her neck. “It’s been years.” His voice rumbled, and he didn’t try to hide the truth from her.
Her eyes widened a bit. “Years? Nobody?”
She ran her hands up his arms, and his body jumped under her touch. “No. No one.” He dropped his lips to hers and pulled her against his chest. She licked at his lips, and he let her in, savoring the sweet taste of her.So addictive, so enchanting.
Val wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her against his body. She swiveled her hips, and out of pure animal instinct, Smith’s hips ground against her as he lowered a hand to move her against him again.
They danced, swaying in an erotic build of sexual need. Holding each other, grinding against each other while kissing and touching. Val broke the kiss, and he stared at her. Her lips were red and shiny from their kisses. Her pupils were wide, and her cheeks presented a rose hue. “Come with me.” She grabbed his hand and backed away a step. Smith heard the words, but his feet failed to move. She tugged again. “Please.”
He made himself move. His cock straining under the tight denim material. Moving was the last thing he wanted to do and the most urgent thing he could think of at the moment. She walked backward, keeping her eyes locked with his and, God help him, he followed her. He would have followed her to the bowels of hell. Instead, she led him to the bedroom. Once inside, she untied the robe, letting it slither to the floor.
Smith’s heart stopped beating. He’d died and gone to heaven. The woman before him was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her pert breasts were tipped with rose color buds. He let his eyes travel down her body and back up. No one, no model or pinup he’d ever seen, could rival her beauty. She walked backward and sat down on the bed. “I want to see you.”
And just like that, the spell broke. She couldn’t want to see him. He was nothing. She sat up, her legs curling to the side. “I saw what just happened, Smith. Remember, no one tells me to whom I’m attracted. I want you. I want to be with you. Take off your clothes, and let me see you.”
He kept his eyes on hers as he pulled off his sweater, tossing it to the floor. She smiled. “God, yes. More.”
Smith unfastened and unzipped his jeans. His boxers came off as he pushed the denim down his legs. He toed off the socks when he stepped out of the jeans. His cock jutted out in front of him. He reached down and stroked himself. Pre-come tipped the end. He thumbed the moisture and used it to stroke down his shaft.