Page 31 of Fanged Desire
Hunter’s gaze flicked to mine, amusement dancing in her dark eyes. “Good,” she said, drifting closer and flicking water in my direction. “I like keeping you on your toes.”
“So much for therelaxingswim then. I’m starting to think you just wanted to show off your tits in that swimsuit.”
She glanced down, wriggling her shoulders in a way that made the water churn around her. “They are spectacular, aren’t they?”
I wasn’t sure if her cocky attitude had me irritated or aroused. But the burning sensation between my legs suggested the latter.
I cleared my throat, eager to change the subject before she could draw a confession out of me. “Back to my speculations – are you some kind of harpy or something?”
Hunter paddled lazy circles around me, chucking at my indiscreet misdirection. “No, but what makes you think that?”
I stewed over my answer for a moment and instead settled on another question. “How was it that you managed to get the janitor off our backs? I saw him last night – he looked right past me like he didn’t recognize me at all.”
That made her pause her strokes and left her floating in front of me, close enough that I could feel the smooth brush of her legs against my own.
“Who can say?” she said eventually, casting the question aside lightly enough and flashing her usual cunning smile. But those dark eyes were fixed on mine with undeniable intensity. “I can be very persuasive.”
Her legs brushed mine again, intentionally this time. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a shiver down my spine.
My breath hitched automatically and I could have sworn her smirk deepened, like she knew exactly the effect she was having on me. The space between us felt charged, the warm water wrapping around us like a silky cocoon.
“Hunter?” It was more of a breathy exhale than a spoken word.
“Hmm?”
“Why are you helping me?”
That teasing, devious expression wavered for a moment, warping out of existence until all that was left were her piercing, fathomless eyes. Her lips straightened out, and her brow creased slightly, like I was some kind of puzzle she couldn’t quite crack. She drifted closer, a hair's breadth away, her gaze searching.
I wondered then if she even knew the answer herself.
My heart quickened as her hand reached out, gently brushing a damp strand of hair from my face. Her touch was soft, almost hesitant, as if she hadn’t expected me to let her get this close.
Without thinking I leaned into the gesture, some touch-starved part of me savoring the warmth of her palm against my cheek. For a split second, Hunter looked surprised – and then that surprise melted into a familiar smirk.
“Do you get this close with all your private clients?”
Heat flooded my cheeks and I acted on impulse, sending a splash of water straight over her head.
“Hey!” Hunter laughed, dodging the worst of it with an exaggerated flinch, whatever tension there was between us subdued for the time being. “That’s not very professional.”
“I’m off the clock,” I shot back, grateful for the steam that hid the blush spreading across my face.
Before either of us could acknowledge the odd moment of intimacy, the receptionist’s voice cut through the steamy haze like a shower of cold water.
“Ms Flawne is ready to see you now.”
Chapter 13
Hunter
Esmerelde Flawne was a viper poised to strike, seated like a queen behind a massive mahogany desk and draped in soft blue fabrics that looked more expensive than some of the apartments I’d lived in. She was also clearly suspicious of us, considering the way one perfectly sculpted brow rose to her hairline the moment we entered her office.
“My secretary informed me that an old friend had dropped by.” Esmerelde granted me a tight, twitching smile – the kind that said she had already cast her judgment and found us severely lacking, but was too polite to let it show. “But I’m inclined to believe she has been misled.”
Her gaze lingered on me, waiting, sharp as a knife ready to slice through the first hint of dishonesty.
I kept my expression relaxed, letting an easy smile slip onto my face as if I wasn’t bothered in the slightest by her frosty demeanor. “Yes. Well, technically, I may have... exaggerated the old friends part.”
