When she answered with silence, I lifted my gaze to hers. Her cool blue eyes were soft and kind, offering solace without words. Without another word, I took her hand and led her to the living room. We settled beside each other on the couch, and her eyes took on that apologetic look again. I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled slowly. I didn’t want to talk about Bill’s troubles, but I couldn’t get the shit out of my head either.
She reached out and touched my hand. “I can promise you my life isn’t any more perfect than yours. The way we were raised, you know as well as I do, it comes at a price.”
She could say that again.
“I sure as hell know it,” I muttered. “I can’t say cleaning up his mess is worth any price, though.”
She laced our fingers, like silk and heat coming together. The simple contact warmed my chest faster than the liquor. I wanted to drag her against me then and kiss the lips I’d imagined for days. I wanted to strip her down and bury myself so deep in her I couldn’t remember my own anguish. Slowly, desire replaced my ebbing anger.
She spoke softly. “I love my dad, but when he wants things for me that I don’t want for myself—it’s a hard pill to swallow from a man who’s been a shadow half my life. It took my brothers a long time to break away from the expectations. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will.”
“I have a lot of respect for your brothers. Doing what they’ve done isn’t easy.”
“Thanks to people like you.”
“It’s not just the money, you know. I’m trying to carve out my own dream here. Last thing I want to do is end up like my dad, wrapped up in dollars and cents. But that’s what he wants, of course. Doesn’t give a damn about what gets me up in the morning.”
“You’re passionate about what you do.”
I tightened my grasp, enjoying our contact a little more with each passing second. “After my parents split, I lived with my mom for a few years in Paris. When I came back here for private school and stayed with my dad, I was always looking for details that would remind me of home. I got preoccupied with it.”
“So you were a thirteen-year-old with an eye for architectural detail?”
I grinned. “Pretty much. And now I walk into a property, the building could be totally gutted, and all I can see is possibility. I’m compulsive until it’s realized its potential.”
She dragged her fingertips over my wrist, like she was painting along the vein lines. “I get it. Sometimes I feel that way with an empty room. It’s like a blank canvas. Probably doesn’t hurt that I watched my mom redecorate about a thousand times. Every time she was upset at my dad or something, she’d go on a mission, changing everything around.”
I chuckled. “I’m afraid to ask what you think about what I’ve done with the place.”
She looked around, her eyes seeming to light and pause on little details. “I haven’t gotten the full tour, but the interior architecture is impressive. I think I’m recognizing your style. But it’s definitely a bachelor pad on the surface right now.”
I stared at her in silence a moment, draining the liquid from my glass. I savored the smoky peat on my tongue, but I longed to taste her. Why was I being so careful with her? Why the hell hadn’t I just fucked her against the wall the second Ian left? I should tug her under me right now and take her without another word. But I wanted her words…
“Why did you say yes? With all the shit going on with my dad, I can’t imagine why you’d risk being associated with me.” I held my stare, silently imploring her to give me more.
“I said yes. Does it really matter why?”
“We’re going to be intimate. What’s the harm in being honest, too?”
She glanced up at me with thoughtful eyes. “I’m attracted to you.”
I fought the smile tugging at my lips. “I’m flattered, but I hope there’s more.”
She leaned her head against the couch with a soft sigh. “A lot of what you said about me the other night was true. The way you said it made it sound ugly and shallow, but I’m still trying to figure it all out, what matters and what doesn’t. I can let my parents or my brothers or the society that raised me determine what matters, or I can go with my instincts. Maybe I’m being reckless and impulsive, but…”
“But what?”
“I feel things differently when I’m with you,” she said softly. “You piss me off, Will. The other night, my God. You’re lucky you weren’t wearing your dinner.”
I laughed, and she smiled.
“When you painted my life that way, you insulted me, but you also made me question my world. I’ve been doing more of that since I moved here, but nothing has ever been quite that jarring. And you…want me. You’re not the first person who has, but somehow, the way you express it makes me feel desirable on a primal level that I’ve never experienced before.”
“So in other words, I’m a crude bastard, but you kind of love it.”
She shrugged. “Like I said, I reserve the right to change my mind.”
“I won’t let you.”
She traced the rim of her glass and bit her lip gently. “I’ve said too much.”
“Yes, but that’s okay. I’m glad you did. I asked for your honesty, and you gave it to me.”
Her dark eyelashes fluttered up, framing her hooded gaze. “Except now I feel vulnerable, like I need a piece of you, too.”