Page 48 of Hero & Villain
His eyes gleamed as he leaned closer, as if he were about to share gossip. “No idea, but there has to be a story there. They both live at the Providential, which is the cleanest hotel in Vegas. Maybe they’re secretly married with fifteen children.”
The image of that brawny brawler and the Valkyrie covered in tiny humans had me gurgling. “At least twenty, and their whole conflict is actually about him forgetting to load the dishwasher after dinner.”
“Makes sense. Do you like it?” he asked, turning me to face him instead of the beautiful pool surrounded by greenery and exotic flowers. He was more beautiful to look at. I wanted to touch his face, to feel his stubble and the softness of his mouth.
“Yes,” I answered, somehow not poking him like a weirdo.
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you like about Vegas? Is it the aridity? It’s true that very few people miss humidity once they’ve had dry heat.”
Oh, that’s what he was talking about. Vegas, not his mouth. What was wrong with me? So many things. I needed to get out of this dress. Its cuteness was killing me. This seduction was killing me. Or the mass murder of a seduction that was going on right here. “Right. Vegas. I like Vegas for the regular hours and the paycheck.”
His smirk wanted to be bitten off his mouth. “You almost sound like you were thinking about something else. What else do you like, Pinkie?” He moved closer, that smirk curving into something absolutely…
I took a deep breath and dragged my eyes off his mouth to his eyes. Soft brown eyes like melting milk chocolate. I spun around and walked quickly away from him to the other side of the bridge before I fainted at his feet. “Greek kebabs.” Like I could stab him with kebabs and then maybe he wouldn’t be so delicious. Only maybe that would make him even more delicious.
He laughed and followed me out of the garden, down the sidewalk to the street where his pink hybrid waited for us.
Neat to-go boxes were already in the back seat of the car, so there was nothing to do but find somewhere to eat.
He drove out into the desert, revving the engine of the ridiculous monster until fifteen minutes later we got where it was dark enough to see the stars, even though Vegas still shone in the distance.
“Light pollution,” he said with a shrug and then started filling plates for both of us. “But the stars are still better than anywhere on the east coast. What do you miss about Boston?”
“Maestro, Toni, Straw, you know, the best things in life. Also, there’s this chocolate shop just a few blocks from my apartment, or where I used to live, it wasn’t really mine…”
I took a big bite of vegetables and chicken off my kebab to keep from saying anything else about Clint and his mother. Seduction. Right. Focus. Maybe I’d just eat. Seductively.
We ate together in awkward silence until he pushed a button and the whole roof became a thin membrane that kept out the cold, but not the stars. I stared up, forgetting about everything other than those brilliant diamonds.
“Free,” I murmured.
“Who’s free, Pinkie?” he asked, leaning back in his seat and looking up.
I put my own seat back without losing sight of those glorious lights. “The stars are free to enjoy, and no matter how much money you have, you can’t put them in a box with a price tag onthem. Diamonds are cheap imitations of stars, don’t you think?” I looked at him, and his eyes shone brighter than the stars.
He took my hand, spreading my fingers with his. “Interesting. Despite the resemblance, diamonds are pressurized carbon while stars are still burning. How would you get a diamond to burn?”
I stared at him, and my heart pounded, racing while I stared at him, soft eyes, slight dimple, and those lips that could be so soft and sweet, sweeter than anything else. “Everything will burn if you increase the speed of its molecules fast enough.”
He raised a brow, glancing down at my mouth in a way that made me all hot and melty. “Friction carefully applied might be very conducive.”
“Kiss me.”
He smirked, cocking his head as he brushed his hand over mine, sending off a flock of butterflies in my chest. “Aren’t you still hungry?”
“For you.” This was seductive talk, right? Cringe-awful was synonymous with seduction. Everyone knew that.
He grinned full-out. “Why do I feel like we’re talking cannibalism? Maybe the way you’re gripping your kebab stick. Are you sure you won’t stab me if I kiss you the wrong way?”
“Do you mind being stabbed?”
He laughed and shook his head, eyes dancing. “I don’t mind being stabbed, but think of the slivers. I hate slivers. You’d have to sand your kebabs before you stabbed me with them.”
I rolled my eyes and placed the stick on the box in the back. “Now I’m safe. You can do anything you want with me, and I won’t stab you.”
His eyes flickered with heat as he leaned closer. “Anything I want?” he breathed.
Seduction. This was seduction, only I wasn’t the one doing it.
