Page 9 of When He Lies
Her nostrils flared a tiny bit as she pulled in his sensual scent. Masculine. Woodsy. Sandalwood? Whatever it was, the scent beckoned her forward. She was sure that if she just nestled her nose right there in the crook of his neck, kinda like a kitten, she’d find more of that delicious scent. She even started to lean forward.
Then caught herself. This was not the time for games. She had things to do.
Lightning flashed beyond the window in her room. Seconds later, thunder boomed. She jerked at the sound. Deliberately so. She’d long ago learned to stop flinching at thunder. Reacting now was simply to set the stage.
The story about her parents had been true. There had been a terrible storm. A storm that had wrecked her life. A storm that had sent the car her parents drove careening off the road, into a tree, and then down into a steep ditch. Her parents had died in the crash, while she’d been trapped inside the wreckage and the water had begun to rise and rise as her young voice shouted frantically for help.
“Why didn’t you tell them I was lying, Simone?” His hand rose, and he caught a lock of hair that had escaped her twist. So much for the perfect twist. He gently tucked that lock behind her left ear.
“I didn’t want to get you in trouble,” she returned. A partial truth. “As you said, they had guns. I thought it would be better to keep quiet and get out of there.”
His fingers lingered against her cheek. Slightly callused fingertips, something she had not expected from a man with so much money and power. Most men like him had baby soft skin. Buffed nails. Annoyingly arrogant lives.
But those men were controllable. Predictable.
Something about Ryan was just…off. She’d noticed that off bit when he surged in front of her, immediately shielding her from the men with the guns in the gallery. Nice of him to be a physical barrier for her. Points for him. But…off. Not what she would have expected.
And when he’d threatened to break any fingers that were going to search her, she’d actually believed his words.
In light of those little off issues, Simone felt it necessary to perform a test on him. That was why she had kissed him again. To see how he would respond. His lust had been real enough. So now it was time for an interrogation. One done in her own, careful way. “What did you steal?”
Okay, perhaps that had not been so careful. It had been blunt and to the point.
In response, he laughed. Hard. He had a wonderful laugh. Deep, rich, and warm. His eyes crinkled at the edges, and his white teeth flashed with his grin. Killer. So very dangerous. A man with a gorgeous grin was someone who could disarm people far too easily.
Her stomach seemed to twist.
“I was hoping to steal your heart,” he replied, voice all rumbly and deep and sliding over her skin like the best caress ever. “Guess I didn’t succeed, if you think I’m a liar?”
Oh, so dangerous. And so delightful. She caught herself before she smiled at him. “Why did the alarm sound in the gallery?”
“I got too close to the Claudel. I was one hundred percent serious when I said I was a fan of her work.” His hand slid under her chin, cupping her jaw. “I’ve found that I get far too close to the things I covet. A character flaw that I possess.”
Was he saying he coveted her? Sure seemed that way. Simone didn’t think she’d ever been coveted before. “You touched the statue?”
“I might have not-so-accidentally skimmed my fingers over it.” His stare did not waver. “But do I look like a thief to you?”
She didn’t reply. In her experience, anyone could look like a thief.
More of his warm laughter. “I offered to buy the work from him. If I wanted to steal it, why would I pay for it?”
“You could have just said that you touched the piece. Kissing me was not necessary.”
The darkness of his eyes heated. “Believe me, it was one hundred percent necessary.”
Her toes almost curled. “You’re more than I expected.”
His hand slipped away. Almost immediately, Simone missed the warmth of his touch. How strange was that? She never missed anything. Or anyone. She had no attachments. Attachments led to pain. They led to you screaming in a storm for people who were gone while the water rose and rose…
More lightning flashed beyond her window.
Okay, the current bad weather was getting to her. Stirring up painful memories that were better forgotten.
“One,” Ryan said as his gaze remained on her. “Two, three…”
The thunder cracked.
She’d been so focused on him that the sudden, sharp sound gave her a real flinch. Simone hadn’t realized that he was counting the time between the lightning flash and the thunder’s rumble, not just that loud crack.
