Page 101 of Handsome Devil
But his skin was warm and silky and dusted with hair, and I could feel his hot pulse, and my fingers just had a mind of their own.
Whatever. He was an attractive man. I liked attractive men.
Didn’t mean I liked him.
Or he liked me.
I’d bested him, briefly, in front of his mother, and he needed to try to take some of the power back. That was why he kept putting his hand on my back. He was looking for a reaction. He was checking exactly where the line was drawn; where he had power over me and where he didn’t.
I couldn’t let him haveany, outside my employment situation.
I’m the hero.
I shivered now, remembering how those words had felt against my lips. His mouth so close to mine. I was seriously afraid if he’d kissed me or touched me right then, it would’ve been over. I would’ve kneed him in the balls, and Dane would’ve won. He’d find some reason to fire me, and he could go back to Toronto knowing he’d destroyed me.
But he didn’t kiss me.
You’re the devil.
He didn’t like those words out of my mouth.
Because it was the same thing I said to him when I slapped him in high school?
Well, I meant it then, and I still meant it. I’d always been right about him. He was spoiled, cold, and full of himself. All he cared about was his inheritance. His power. He made that clear last night. There was no room for anything in that frozen heart but himself and his money.
And maybe a few people who were willing to be his loyal subjects?
I was not one of those people.
Even pretending to be one last night had sucked the life out of me.
By the time the car pulled into his parking garage, I’d shored up my defenses nice and tight. Whatever he came at me with, I could handle it.
Maybe, if I was really lucky, he was going to tell me he was heading back to Toronto and I’d never have to see him again.
We drove straight through the garage, into an awaiting car elevator. It was a private car elevator, and once we’d arrived at the penthouse floor, we drove out into a private garage with three empty parking stalls. I had no idea any buildings with private car elevators like this even existed in downtown Vancouver, much less in my neighborhood.
Once we’d parked, Rolf came around to open my door and I slipped out. The garage was a cylinder shape with stark walls of polished concrete. Razor thin wafers of light made a cold grid on the ceiling. A large, gleaming metal door, so smooth I could see myself in it, blocked entry to the apartment.
It felt exactly like the entrance to the icy layer of Lucifer should feel.
Rolf breezed his fingers over a sleek smart screen on the wall and the steel door slid open. We entered a short, posh hallway with an elegant table and chair, and the door closed behind us. At the other end of the hall, there was another identical metal door, and Rolf repeated the gesture over another smart screen. The second door slid open, and I followed him into the apartment.
The first thing that hit me: the penthouse was huge, with soaring, high ceilings. Way larger than I thought it would be.
The second thing: it was not at all what I expected.
It did not look or feel like a billionaire bachelor of the ice king variety lived here. The polished concrete floor extended throughout the entire open-concept living area. The walls were painted in deep shades of charcoal and navy. Some of the furniture was metal and glass. But everything else was almost… cozy. From the wool shag rug that looked like angels slept on it to the warm caramel-colored leather, it actually felt like a place a woman could curl up in and stay for a while.
“May I take your coat?” Rolf asked me.
“Sure. Thank you.” I slipped it off, and as soon as I handed it over, he walked right out the door with it. The metal door slid shut in his wake. There was no door handle.
Not creepy.
I felt his presence before I saw him.
“What is this, a morgue?” I turned to face Dane. “Metal doors that need not open from the inside?”
