Page 35 of Two of a Kind
Chapter Twenty-Three
What the hell am Idoing?
The same thought had been rattling in his brain from the moment he had left his place. He had told himself repeatedly that he would not seek her out, that doing so would be a really bad idea, yet here he was anyway. But knowing Vexy—Kayla—was so close proved to be too much of a temptation to resist.
It wasn’t just that he wanted to see her again, though admittedly, that was his primary motivation. She had been on his mind like a catchy song he couldn’t get out of his head.
Beyond that, he had questions. Lots of them. Such as: had she known who he was all along? As a local, she would be familiar with Dumas Industries, and his picture appeared in the news often enough to make her knowing not only possible, but probable.
And, if shehadknown who he was, why hadn’t she said anything? Had she feared he wouldn’t have been interested if he knew of her local ties or that she wasn’t the wealthy diva she had appeared to be? Or had she had something more unethical in mind, like an opportunity for blackmail or scandal?
He didn’t want to believe their time together had been predicated on bad intentions, especially since he had been the one to initiate things. The fact that he had seen and heard nothing since her ghosting impression were points in her favor, yet he would have to be either stupid or incredibly naïve to believe it wasn’t a possibility. Spencer was neither. He had come from a long line of cutthroats.
He was a Dumas. Ruthlessness was encoded in his DNA.
Spencer’s irritation grew as his repeated buzzes and knocks went unanswered. A car was in the driveway, the lights were on—someone was definitely home. Was she deliberately ignoring him?
He glanced around the small entrance, half-expecting to find a security camera pointed at him, and finding nothing. Concern briefly overrode his annoyance. A woman living alone should have some kind of security system in place. Then again, every new piece of information he had uncovered about Kayla O’Connell had been unexpected.
She wasn’t a wealthy vixen as he had first thought, but a travel agent in a Podunk town. Her house wasn’t the high-end condo or palatial estate he had envisioned during those many times he had thought of her, but a small rancher in an older suburban neighborhood.
Of course, that suspicious part of him piped up,that gives her all the more reason to screw you, doesn’t it?
He raised his hand to knock again, but before he could make contact, the door suddenly opened and he was face-to-face with a pissed-off looking woman brandishing a ... spoon?
He blinked, and her eyes widened in recognition the same time her mouth gaped in surprise. The hand holding the spoon remained frozen in mid-air, so he took advantage of the moment to drink her in.
She was definitely his Vexy, but she looked quite different from the woman who had been hijacking his thoughts. Wearing simple pink cotton shorts and a matching tank, damp hair curling into loose ringlets, and a face completely devoid of makeup, she was ... even more attractive.
“You!What are you doing here?”
The cynical thoughts he had been having only minutes before vanished, replaced by the desire to touch her again.
As his lips started curling into a grin, she grabbed his arm and yanked him toward her.
“Get in here before somebody sees you!”
He stumbled over the threshold, enjoying the strong grip on his forearm and the scrape of nails against his skin too much to process her words immediately.
She released his arm and waved the spoon at him, flinging drops of what looked like chocolate ice cream into the air. With his much-larger hand, he grasped her wrist and brought the spoon to his lips. He licked it slowly, watching as her eyes latched on to his mouth. Beneath the thin material, her nipples pebbled.
“Mm. Delicious. Not as good as you, of course.”
