Now he knew a little more than he did yesterday. He knew her full name. Winter Somerset. His smile flickered again with his satisfaction. He pulled the seat belt across his chest and snapped it home.
Done with making adjustments to the car, Winter slid on her sunglasses. “Where do you want to go?”
Michael quirked his brow. His voice very dry, he said, “The house.”
Chapter Fourteen
Without a word, Cathy put the vehicle in gear and eased it onto the street. The drive to his home would be short. She had been more than halfway to Michael’s place when her car died.
As they left the business district behind, the traffic was lighter. She could not help noticing how well the Lexus handled and responded to her lightest touch. Damn it. It drives like a dream! She compared the Lexus to her own debilitated vehicle, and despondency trickled through her again. The pleasant scent of new leather filled her nostrils. The seat fit her body, cradling her frame in comfort. There was hardly any sound to disturb the smooth ride. Not even the air conditioning marred the near-silence.
The flame of resentment suddenly flared bright. She knew that the furnace of emotion was illogical. It wasn’t Michael’s fault that her car was dead. But the rational part of her mind wasn’t prevailing against what she was feeling.
As they approached their destination, she slowed, parking the vehicle in the driveway. When she got out of the new vehicle, she almost slammed the door. She walked around the front of the Lexus where Michael was waiting for her and held out the keys to him. But he didn’t reach for them. Instead, he nodded at the keys dangling from her fingers. “The Lexus is yours, Winter. It’s leased for two years, prepaid.”
Cathy gaped at him. She knew that she must look foolish with her mouth hanging open, but he didn’t laugh at her. His face remained expressionless behind the dark aviators. The Lexus is mine to drive. She felt relief swamp her. “Michael, I can’t tell you how much I—”
“I don’t want any repeats to inconvenience me, Winter.” The cold, flat statement made her flinch. He walked away to unlock the door of the house and went inside.
She watched him, rooted to the spot where he had left her. She was shaking. She felt as though she had been slapped. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw the keys or viciously key the side of the Lexus. But she did nothing and hated herself for it. She needed the vehicle too much. She was so angry she fumbled with the zipper of her purse, the clumsiness of her trembling fingers making hard work of it. Finally, she managed to yank it open and drop the Lexus keys inside of it.
Michael had left the front door standing open, obviously confident that, just like an obedient bitch dog, she would follow her master inside. She understood with crystal clarity precisely what it was all about. Oh yes, she understood all too well. He was her employer. He wanted her to be able to meet her obligations so he provided her with new wheels. Well, then, I suppose it’s time to earn my generous salary, Cathy thought bitterly.
Her heels beat an angry tattoo on the stone walkway and, when she swept into the entry, again on the granite tiles. She banged the front door shut. She swept a glance around the living area and found it empty. Cathy started quickly up the carpeted stairs, the adrenaline pounding through her veins. She found him waiting for her in the bedroom. He had shed only his sunglasses and shoes. He leaned against the bedpost, his arms crossed over his muscular chest, and watched her enter. His look was assessing and very cool.