Page 49 of Bracing The Storm

“Yes.” I take in his deepening frown and the way his eyes seem to darken a little. Is he jealous? He can’t be and yet I can’t help adding fuel to the fire, just in case there is a bit of that green-eyed monster in him and it’s rearing its ugly head.“The lawyer of the estate? Young, good-looking, flashy sports car. You met him the other day. You two seemed to know each other. Anyway, I can’t eat too much anyway. Who knows where the evening might take us, and I can’t risk looking bloated.” I wink, leaving the rest unspoken, my voice dripping with double meaning.

He takes a deep breath as he puts on a nonchalant expression, but his frown remains etched on his forehead.

Ha!

He can’t fool me. Maybe there is no love lost between Duncan and him. Or maybe he doesn’t like the fact that not every woman’s salivating over him. Whatever the reason, Patrick Walshisjealous. I feel a little triumphant at that. Any victory is a victory, no matter how insignificant, and I’m in this battle to win it.

“That’syour concern?” he says. “If you were naked and spread out on my bed, the last thing on your mind would be how you look. In fact, you wouldn’t be thinking straight at all, what with my tongue knowing how to make you forget the world around us.” He reaches me in a few long strides and holds out his bag of tartlets.

I stare at him, lost for words. He didn’t just say that! I must have misheard him because if he did it would imply that?—

“The plates are in your part of the kitchen. Get two.” Patrick points at the cabinets to my right and something like a smirk spreads across his gorgeous lips. My gaze is glued to them, and I’m suddenly wondering what he tastes like. Not just his mouth, but all of him. His skin. The lower part of his body. His gaze bores into me and his grin widens. “Cat got your tongue again? Want me to help you find it? I would be more than happy to. Just say the word.”

Can the guy read my thoughts or am I just an obvious idiot drooling all over him? His voice is deep and low and oozingwith unspoken promises. My heartbeat quickens and a sizzling sensation travels through my core. I’m burning to take him up on whatever he has to offer.

Damn!

He probably wouldn’t even have to put much effort into anything. That voice alone, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, would be enough to make me come.

I inhale a sharp breath and take a big step back, infusing as much iciness into my voice as I can muster. “No, thanks. As much as I enjoy our meaningless conversation, I need to get ready.”

“What’s the rush? It’s not like Duncan will appreciate the effort. I, on the other hand, would know how to appreciate it in countless ways, over and over again.” He breaks off. The invitation is there, lingering in the air, clear and blatantly obvious. I bite my lip as I wonder what those countless ways are and whether they’d involve his bedroom or mine. Heck, I wouldn’t even need a bed. A sofa, wall, or even the backseat of a car would be good enough as long as he had his wicked ways with me.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I whisper more to myself than to him and turn to leave.

“Lori.”

Patrick’s deep grumble stops me mid-stride. I’m frozen to the spot as I realize I love the sound of his voice and the way my name rolls off his tongue. It feels right, like it belongs there. My chest tightens at the thought. Something’s happening. I don’t know what it is; I can’t put my finger on it. I just know that this goes beyond physical attraction.

I actuallylikehim. Liking a man is a dangerous thing because it always leaves a backdoor open for more. There’s a difference between letting him take you to bed, then forgetting about him come morning, and letting him steal your heart.

Patrick Walsh strikes me as the kind of man who’s stolen a few hearts and left them shattered to pieces in his wake.

I turn to face him. His expression is pained, as though he’s struggling with something.

“What do you want?” I prompt.

“Help yourself to whatever you want. I mean it. What would people think of me if they found you starved to death in my house?” His pained expression is gone, replaced by his previous nonchalant smile. It’s beyond me how anyone can change moods so quickly, but Patrick seems quite skilled in it.

“They’d probably think nothing given that it’smyhouse now.”

His smile drops instantly. I don’t wait for his response; I just turn on my heels and march out the door, keeping my head high. Another triumph for me. Only, this one feels like a dirty move, a low blow that leaves me wondering whether what I’m doing is worth it.

The money from selling the place could help resolve my problems back home, but at what cost?

Once I’m back in my bedroom, I take out my cell phone and text the one person I thought I’d never want to see again.

My fingers fly over the touchscreen, deleting words here and there as I choose my phrasing carefully. In the end, I decide to keep it simple.

We need to talk. Text me back when you get the chance.

I send the text before I can change my mind, then bury my head in my pillow and let the tears flowing from my eyes stain the expensive cotton.

It was right after my graduation from college that I found out I had a half-brother. He had called out of the blue to congratulate me and got me a job with the same investmentcompany he was working for. I thought we could be at least friends, if not family. I thought I could trust him. Until, one day, he called me to his office and fed me to the wolves.

Chapter Sixteen

With the storm howling outside, I don’t hear Duncan’s car pulling up in the driveway. Or maybe I’m too lost in thought, but when the doorbell rings, I almost jump out of my skin, startled. I’m a lot less confident and a lot more skittish than I was this morning, all due to the text message I’m no longer sure I should have sent.