“What? I’m not taking your charity.”
“Fine. Do my face then.”
Suddenly, all sorts of X-rated ideas pop into my head too. “Excuse me?”
“I have this black-and-white masquerade tonight. Do my face. I don’t wear masks, they bug the shit out of me. So you might as well paint it on me.”
“Oh, ah, okay. Well I have to be done by ten, I have plans with my coworkers.”
Silence.
“Eight?” I suggest.
“My place,” he says.
At eight, I’m wearing my long white Halloween angel gown with a cute golden halo when I’m taking his elevator. I like Halloween. It’s the only time of the year you get to be anyone but yourself.
I walk into his place and head down the hall into his bedroom, then I pause and catch my breath at the door. Tahoe is wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks. He’s running a comb through his damp hair when he turns to the door and greets me with a bleak frown.
Ah. He’s clearly still displeased about my “odd job” mass email.
“You know you can call me whenever you need anything, right?” he asks, his lowered eyebrows menacing.
“Yeah.” I bring my makeup kit in and set it down on his bathroom counter. He has the biggest bathroom I’ve ever seen, with a long black granite slab consisting of two sinks spaced out by yards of smooth surface.
“Not mass email the whole city,” he specifies as he fills the bathroom doorway behind me.
“It wasn’t the whole city and I want the jobs.” I grin then wave him in and ask him to sit on one of the two leather stools under the granite counter. “So what, did you think something kinky?” I nudge him as I prod him to sit.
“Very kinky.” Our eyes meet in the mirror.
“You’ve got sperm in your head, I swear.” I’m laughing, then our eyes hold in the mirror again and the floor starts to feel like quicksand under my feet. All in black, he is the epitome of a dark knight tonight, and if I were the kind of girl to swoon, I would swoon right now. He smells like pine, and soap, and man.
“So what’s this masquerade…?” I ask as I open the bag with my face paints.
“First tell me what your plans are.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to come with me tonight.”
“Ooooh…no, no, no.” I shake my head as I start opening all of my kits in search of my black pencils, and Tahoe is staring at me intently.
“Odd jobs, huh?” he asks then, thickly.
“I’ll never know what else I’m good at until I try, I guess.”
His lips curl. He reaches out and strokes one finger down my jaw, his voice oddly tender. “You’re good at hiding.”
“Me?”
His finger traces the same path down my jaw again, the touch tingling over me. “All that makeup hiding that beautiful face.” He raises his hands and cups my cheeks and turns me so that our eyes are meeting, not with the mirror between us anymore. He’s looking so deep inside me, I realize no makeup can shield me from this man. Not anymore.
“You’re even better at it,” I accuse, softly. “You hide in plain sight. Life is all a big amusement park for Tahoe Roth, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.” He smirks and lets go of me, the connection gone. “Regina, come with me tonight.”
His voice is coaxing and oh, so very sexy. God. There isn’t even a word for the things this guy’s voice does to my stomach.
“Yeah? Why?” I ask, annoyed on behalf of my body as I lean over him and pick a dark liner.
“I need you.” His whisper bathes warmly over my face.
“You always need me,” I bluff.
He grabs my waist and squeezes as I set the pencil against his forehead. “That’s right. Make yourself unavailable to your coworkers and available to me.”
I ignore him and scan his features and plan my art. “I’m thinking of a black mask. Also, I forgot to mention that if you want my fabulous makeup artist services, it’s sixty an hour.”
He pats my waist, but his hand is so big that half of it ends up patting the top of my butt. “Tell you what. I’ll add a zero to that, just because.”
“Rotund no, T-Rex. But thank you.”
Before I begin drawing, I spot a black mask past the open door, haphazardly tossed on his bed. “You have a perfectly good mask there. No need for makeup, Tahoe.”
“I don’t wear masks. I told you. Now come do me.”
Come do me.
Oh god! I cannot think straight anymore.
I scowl and shake my head, but bend down again and set the tip of my pencil to his forehead. “I don’t buy it.”
“Do you buy that I wanted a reason for you to be here?” His voice turns husky and deep.
I lower my face and find myself inhaling for balance. “You don’t need a reason. We’re friends.”
“Are we?” His voice is so soft, it’s the merest break in the silence between us.
“I don’t know what we are anymore,” I say honestly.
He remains silent and I raise my eyes. His blue gaze hits me like a Taser, so electric I hear my pencil clatter to the marble floor.
I curse.
He slowly bends over and picks it up for me.