Page 25 of The Hookup
His puzzled frown didn’t escape her, but he moved, and she followed.
“Is something wrong?”
“You lied,” she said, hurling the accusation at him. Yet, saying those words out loud made her suddenly conscious about the ridiculousness of her confrontation.
“About what?”
“You’re not a bartender. You own this place, and the bar upstairs.”
“I own a lot of bars.”
“As I’ve discovered.” Damn. She sounded like a gold-digger, and this hadn’t been the intent of her accusation.
He lifted his chin, looking defiant. His eyes, the color not as obvious now in the dim light of the hallway, blazed down at her. “Have you been snooping on me online?”
“I was getting membership for the club, and I was curious.”
“What were you looking for?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she replied. “But what I found was interesting.”
“Like what?”
She would have given anything then for the gift of telepathy, to know what he was thinking. A shiver skated over her, and she wasn’t sure if it was from a feeling of humiliation she was trying to downplay, or from the way his voice, low and husky, rolled through her, setting off balloons of wishful thinking inside her fickle head.
For she could be fickle, when it came to men, and she had enough self-awareness to know this about herself.
“Like your bio on the website, and the fact that you don’t work here, you own the place.”
“So I own the place. So what?” His I-don’t-give-a-shit shrug left her feeling silly, because he was right. What difference did it make whether he was a bartender or the owner?
He most likely thought she was a gold-digger, and that was so not the case. “I was trying to see what type of club it was, since your membership isn’t cheap.” It was a desperate attempt to shift the conversation.
“This is an exclusive club . That exclusivity comes at a cost.”
“I needed to know that this wasn’t a shady BDSM place in disguise.”
His brow creased, and he seemed to regard her with a look of amusement. She wanted to disappear beneath the floorboards.
“This is an above-board establishment. If you want that kink, you’ll have to go elsewhere.”
“I only want to have a good time.”
“You want to live up to your nickname, what was it again?”
Heat rose to her cheeks, as their gazes locked. He was humiliating her, and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it. “I wish I hadn’t told you.”
“Don’t be like that,” he replied, with a smile. “You’re a party girl, is what you said. Nothing wrong with that.”
“What?” she asked, feeling slightly shy because of the way he was looking at her.
“Nothing.” He gave a slight shake of his head. “You came here straight from work wearing that?” He jabbed his chin indicating her outfit.
She looked down and shook her head. “I changed in the washroom at work.” No way could she have gone to work in this; a beaded halter neck top and pleated skirt made from shimmery fabric. It was stylish, and sexy, and she knew she looked damn good in it.
“Nice dress,” he murmured. “It suits you.”
She smiled. It was the first nice thing he’d said to her off the island. “Thank you.” Usually, other guys would have made a move on her by now. With Luke? Nothing.
