Beneath This Ink (Beneath #2)

My nipples hardened in response to his cocky declaration. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, hoping naively that the move would block out the effects of his words and touch. It didn’t.

“So what do you say, Vanessa? You willing to give me a shot?”

I swallowed, and my heart hammered a staccato rhythm in my chest. Pressed so tightly against me, there was no way Con could miss it.

Fixing my eyes on his, I decided that being on the defensive wasn’t going to gain me any ground. So I asked the question burning on my tongue.

“Why?” I asked. “Why would you want a chance with me? You don’t even like me.”

His lips quirked up into a sardonic smile. “I don’t really remember if I like you or not.”

I glared at him. “You’re a pig, you know that?”

The smile faded, and a hard look settled over his features. My attention cut to the door. Con didn’t miss it.

“Oh, no, princess. I told you—you ain’t going anywhere until I’m ready to let you go.” He leaned in until I could feel his breath against my temple as he added, “And I wasn’t joking when I said I might never be ready.”

I refused to look up, knowing that his expression would be smoldering, promising me things I couldn’t have.

“No.” My tone was implacable.

“Look at me.”

“No,” I repeated.

“Then you’re screwed. And not in the way that ends with you coming all over my dick.”

His crude taunt worked. I ripped my gaze away from the studs of his tuxedo shirt and up to his face.

“Like I said before, you’re a pig.”

“And it turns out that you’re not a whore.” He shifted his grip on my wrists to one hand and lowered the other to brush a lock of hair away from my face. “Good to know.”

“Then if you don’t want me to whore myself out, what do you want from me?”

“Like I said, a shot.”

I huffed out a frustrated breath. “But what does that mean?”

“What would you do if I told you I wanted to pick you up at your front door and take you out on the town?”

My blood froze. If that was his requirement, then it was out of the question.

A perfectly executed project wouldn’t matter if my reputation were in tatters. When I didn’t answer right away, Con released my wrists and pushed away from the wall. He crossed to the other side of the coatroom as though wanting to get as far away from me as possible.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, spinning back around to face me.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“That look of horror on your face said it all.” He punctuated his words with a humorless laugh, and I felt my chance slipping away. But the strange part was, I didn’t know if it was the chance at the property or the elusive second chance with Con that I was going to be more devastated to lose.

That can’t matter. But I could be honest with him.

“It’s not personal. I couldn’t publicly date any guy with the kind of reputation you’ve carved out for yourself. Right now, I’m an asset to the foundation. Even if I were to get the property, if at any time my reputation were to become… a liability, I’d kiss my chance at running the place goodbye.”

Con’s eyes lit with something I couldn’t identify. But I was pretty sure it wasn’t defeat. It looked a lot more like… victory.

“So the flip side of your statement means that you wouldn’t have a problem dating someone like me under the radar.”

When had a shot with me moved to dating? Was that really what he wanted? Con didn’t even like me. None of this made sense.

“Why would you even want that? I mean, if I were you, I wouldn’t bother with someone who wasn’t willing to stand beside me in public.” I knew I was damning my own cause with that statement, but it had to be said.

He leaned back against the paneled wall and watched me. With the licks of ink escaping from beneath the crisp, white collar and cuffs of his shirt, his unruly hair, and relaxed stance, he looked like he should be posing for the Toss Me Your Panties calendar. Stop thinking about him like that, dammit.

“I’m not a regular guy, Van. I’ve spent years in the shadows, and I have no problem with staying there.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” I asked.

“You don’t need to know. Suffice it to say, whatever happens between us, for now, I don’t want it to be any more public than you do.”

My mouth fell open into a little O, and a small, vain part of me burned to know why Con Leahy wouldn’t want the world to know he was dating me.

Con pushed off the wall and strode toward me. Three steps and he was once again too close for comfort.

“So what do ya say, princess? Ready to make a deal?”

A deal. I could make a deal. Holy crap, am I really considering this? Yes. Yes, I was.

“Give me your terms, then.”

Con grinned. “You agree to be where I say, when I say, for the next… let’s say… six weeks.”

“Six weeks?” My voice pitched higher with surprise.

“You think I can melt the ice queen faster than that?”

I glared at his use of my least favorite nickname. “I can’t do six weeks. I need the deed before the demolition.”

“One month,” he offered.