Page 12 of Crashed
He growled. “Alex…”
The rough sound sent an erotic tingle down her spine. “Whatever. I take it this is what you want me to parade around in for you tonight?”
“Yes. There should be shoes there as well?”
He was back to being Mr. Chill. Good. This was an arrangement, a deal—granted, a sick and twisted one—but in the end, they’d both get what they wanted, nothing more.
The building would be out of his hands, and she’d never have to answer to him again, and that’s all that mattered.
He’d said himself he wasn’t interested in a committed relationship, and she’d do well to remember it. “Worried I’ll embarrass you in front of all your stuffy suit friends?”
He sighed. “No. But cutoffs and a Metallica T-shirt won’t fit the dress code. We’d be turned away at the door.” He was quiet a heartbeat. “And I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Jesus. If he tried to be nice, she wouldn’t survive the next few months. “Well, you’ll have to excuse me for questioning your motives. I’ve recently learned your good deeds come at a high price.”
She could almost hear his teeth grinding down the line.
“I’ll see you at my place at seven thirty sharp.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Yes. You will.” Then the phone went dead.
Crap.
Deacon looked at his watch. His little viper should be here any minute.
He’d been off his game all day, his mind fixed on Alex.
After their phone conversation this morning, he’d begun to doubt his plan. But drastic situations called for drastic measures.
She was afraid of her own feelings, afraid of what might happen if she got close to him. He’d seen the way she looked out for his sisters. The way she almost clung to them. She was afraid all the time, afraid that one day she might lose them, too.
But she hadn’t been able to hide her response to him when he’d shown up at her place. He’d seen the longing in her eyes. So much so, he’d been tempted to come clean, tell her everything, tell her the way he felt, but then that fear, that wariness had rushed forward and she’d withdrawn from him, throwing up that damn wall. He knew in that moment his only option was to move forward, continue on with his plan. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, he knew this, but if he eased up, gave her an inch, told her the truth, she’d run a mile. He just had to chip away her defenses, get under her skin, prove to her that she could trust him, that he wouldn’t disappear on her.
Not this time.
He’d let security at his apartment know Alex was coming. She would be spending a lot of time with him over the next three months, and he wanted her to come and go as she pleased.
He wasn’t surprised when the quiet, almost hesitant knock came. He didn’t waste time answering it, afraid she’d change her mind and run before he got there.
When he opened the door and laid eyes on her, he was glad he still held the door handle. His mouth went dry and his dick hardened at the sight of her. She was wearing the dress he’d picked out. He’d had a friend of his open her shop after Alex had agreed to his conditions. As soon as he’d seen it, he’d known it was the one.
The deep red was the same shade as the petals tattooed on her upper arm and shoulder, and the dress hugged her curves in all the right places. He dropped his gaze and stifled a groan. The shoes looked sexy as hell, and slightly edgy, like the woman herself.
He’d never seen her in heels before—never seen her in a dress, for that matter. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, her gaze darting everywhere but at him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his apartment, and when she did finally look up at him, he could see she was trying to appear unaffected.
But she was biting her lower lip, something he knew she did when she was nervous.
“You look stunning.”
“Um…thanks.” Her gaze darted away again, widened.
“Holy crap, this place is huge.” Her hair hung down her back, sleek and sexy. His fingers itched to reach out and touch.
He chuckled. “Thanks. I like it.”
She eyed him, and he saw that spark she got right before she put someone in their place. “It wasn’t a compliment. The place is like a mausoleum.”
