Page 36 of Van Cort
“I had hoped that they wouldn’t be required on this occasion.”
“You’re right. But that leads to the question, what exactly is this unexpected visit for? I thought you were away on a trip?”
“Plans changed. And I thought we could spend some time together. Real time.” My eyes narrow. Is that code for sex? He didn’t seem interested when he dropped me home the other night. As if he can read my hesitancy, he goes on. “I told you about dating the likes of me. Well, I’d like to offer something a little less formal, but something I think you might enjoy.”
“Okay. What did you have in mind?” I attempt to stand my ground.
“Do you trust me?”
I try not to scoff. “Considering our past encounters, no.” It’s a firm answer, and true.
“Well, I’d like to change that.” He grins. And I can see why he never has to date more than once or twice. Every girl is going to give over their hearts and panties with that type of smile. “Are you busy this weekend?”
“Weekend?”
“I want to take a trip. Back by tomorrow evening. What do you say?”
“You’ll have to tell me where we’re going. We talked about trust – you don’t have any of it. I’m not going to blindly go where you lead.”
“Not yet, at least.” Another grin,which makes me smile in reply despite myself. “Look, I want us to have some fun. A trip to Portland.”
I shift my weight, still keeping him on the doorstep. “And if I were to agree, what would I need to pack for this trip to Portland?” I run over all the preparations I’d want to do before a night away in my head. At least I shaved my legs this morning.
“A dress. Something not appropriate for the office.” Mentally, I pick out the red fuck-me dress.
“Will I get my weekend workout in?” God, I’m playing with fire.
“You could pack your running gear,” he says with a straight face, and I remember this is Everett. “You’ve got ten minutes to pack or we’ll miss the train.”
My eyes widen, and I can’t stop smiling at the spontaneity of it, even if he’s not smiling yet. His eyes look threatening, though, which twists something in the pit of my stomach.
“I’ll be back tomorrow evening?” I check, my muscles ready to race to my bedroom.
“Promise.”
“Ten minutes. Wait here.”
I close the door and race to my room, shoving the essentials into my overnight case before folding the dress in. Underwear. What underwear? Black. Simple and sexy. If he wants lace and corsets, he’ll have to give me more time.
I add a pair of jeans and heels and a smart top, and change into something a little less Saturday morning.
Leaving my hair down, I check myself in the mirror, apply a little more colour to my cheeks and grab my light jacket before pulling the case to the door.
Off to Portland for the weekend. I’ll check in. Promise. See you soon.
I hit send to April, so at least one other person knows where I am.
“Ready.” I open the door, and he turns to look at me, cool green eyes drinking me in.
He reaches for my case and offers me his arm. “Shall we?”
An hour later, we’re on our way. Sitting in first class, speeding down the country to Portland.
***
“A casino?” I question, as we enter the space.
He pulls my case and his bag and checks in at reception. “You like money. And numbers. I thought this could be a good mix.”
