I can’t figure him out for the life of me. I know I shouldn’t ask, but my curiosity gets the better of me.
Mandy mentioned the Boyd brothers own the famous Club 69 venues, and Kellan definitely owns the arrogance of Mr. Universe, which is often a sign that he’s successful. That and the fact that he drives such an expensive car. Yesterday at dinner, he kept evading my questions. To be honest, I’ve no idea what the big deal is. It’s not like being a nightclub owner is something worth hiding, although I guess everyone needs a break from reality.
“What exactly are you doing, Kellan?” I ask. “Jobwise, I mean.”
“I like to entertain my guests.”
“As in clubs?”
“Not in that kind of way. You have the wrong Boyd. I invest in my brother’s clubs.” Another evasion and so clearly a lie. He points to my plate, his tone a bit sharper than before. “Tuck in.”
The accent comes through so pronounced it vibrates its way through all my hidden spots, and I almost topple off my chair. If he notices my growing discomfort at being alone with him, he doesn’t mention it.
Obviously I can’t force him to tell me more about his life.
I take a few hesitant bites of egg omelet and force myself to chew and swallow slowly. The rich taste of full-fat registers somewhere at the back of my mind, but all I can focus on is the scent of aftershave wafting from him and the fact it’s doing strange things to my body.
Like impairing my breathing.
And making it very, very difficult to focus on anything but him.
“Caught a cold last night?” Kellan stops eating and turns to me. His piercing gaze reminds me of dark green meadows and the mystery that comes with them.
“Why?” Narrowing my eyes at him, I put down my fork and take my coffee again to warm my hands. I might be hungry, but there’s no way I can eat around him. Not when we’re alone in his way-too-masculine house and he’s looking at me with a combination of disdain and intensity that makes me too aware of my body’s reactions to him.
“You sound breathless. And I haven’t even made you come yet.” His brow shoots up, and a lazy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
He’s such a jerk!
“FYI, it was cold outside. I froze my ass off out there and probably caught a cold.”
“Or you’re into me.”
“I can assure you I’m not.” I raise my chin and stare him down with as much frostiness as I can muster. “I’ll grab some aspirin from town.” I emphasize the last part so he won’t get the impression I want to stick around.
“No need. I have some.” He gets up. His back is turned to me as he begins to rummage through the drawers. Eventually, he pushes an emergency kit toward me and sits back down. “Feel free to take whatever you need.”
“Thanks, but I won’t be around for much longer,” I say.
In fact, sticking around is the last thing I’d do, but I keep that to myself.
His frown returns, and for a moment, his eyes remind me of emeralds—cold and hard. But the impression disappears quickly and makes room for the nonchalant, almost contemptuous expression that he seems to sport whenever he looks at me. It’s either contempt or lust, like he can’t decide which way to feel about me.
I bet the words ‘jerk’ and ‘arrogant prick’, which pretty much sum up our first encounter back in NYC, have etched their way into his ego, and now he’s scarred for life at the idea some skirt doesn’t think he’s God’s gift to the female population.
He can’t take rejection.
It’s no longer a question. It’s a fact.
“You know,” he starts with a smug grin, “the streets out of town are flooded. There’s no hotel so, as things stand, you’ll have to tolerate me for a little longer. You can keep busy by helping out with the livestock.”
A kind of challenge flickers to life in his gaze, like he thinks I’d never dirty my hands.
The condescending prick!
I add that to my mental dictionary of words that perfectly describe Kellan.
“When’s the mechanic coming?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Did you call him or not?”
“The lines are still down. The storm must have hit a phone pole.”
I take a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “So you haven’t called him, like you said.”
“I never said I did. I only said I would.” His eyes catch mine, the glint in them naughty and devilish. “But no worries, you’re not imposing, if that’s what you’re worried about. The guestrooms have been vacant for so long, I’ll be happy to entertain you. I’m very good at it, as you’ve probably noticed.”
“I’m sure you are.” I cock my head to the side, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do you have enough food for the three of us?”
I can’t quite picture Kellan being the kind who stocks up before a hurricane hits.