Page 239 of The First Taste
"Yes, I know Charles Adams. He has been by Remy’s side for ages. He is definitely an esteemed figure." Dare bobs his head, seeming a bit perplexed. "Any idea why he would be meeting with the head accountant of Morgan Oil?"
Clive shakes his head. "That I am afraid I do not know, sir. If you would like, I can take your coats. You can wait by the fire that I have laid in the living room."
"All right, all right." Dare shrugs out of his coat and hands it over.
I freeze, looking at Clive with some bewilderment. I need my coat as a kind of armor against the Morgans. Besides, my fists are balled inside my pockets. If I took the coat off, I would have to figure out what to do with my hands.
My lips twist. "I’ll keep my coat, thank you."
Clive lifts a brow but does not respond. He bows again and heads off, disappearing behind a door made of the same wood paneling in which the interior of the long hallway is clad.
Dare walks a little way down the hall, opening a door on the left. He strides through it, expecting me to follow. I frown and hurry after him into the living room. The name of the room made me think of something closed off and cozy.
But the room is vast and has a distinctly masculine energy. There are huge, overstuffed leather couches lining the walls, wood paneling on almost every surface, and the mounted heads of deer, goats, and even a lion. In one corner of the room stands a full-size stuffed bear, fangs and claws outstretched. There are a few bookcases here and there, but most of the floor is taken up by plexiglass displays of smaller creatures that have been stuffed and are posed in the most menacing fashion imaginable.
Dare saunters over to a brown leather couch near the fireplace and sinks down onto it, a pout on his face. He watches me closely as I cross the room and take the seat furthest away from him on the same couch. Our gazes clash, and he raises an eyebrow.
"Would you like a drink?"
"A drink?" I shake my head. "No thanks. I’m here to do business, not have fun."
"Very well," he says. He gives me a little smirk and sits back, pursing his lips. His eyes glitter blue-green with menace.
"You know, in all my hurry to get you to agree to talk about my brother on tape, I haven’t asked you a very important question."
I cross my legs and tilt my head. I’m busy looking around, trying to guess how much the trophies that I see displayed in the room actually cost. Were they secondhand, perhaps? Or could I factor in a vacation and a hunting trip for every single one?
It would easily be in the hundreds of thousands of dollars.
"What question is that?" I ask.
"How was the sex?" He grins at me. "I have to say, Burn doesn’t seem like the kind of man who makes a satisfying lover. But I have been wrong before. So how was it?
I sputter, shocked. "What?"
"I’ve always wanted to know what women like about Burn. I mean, he is charming. But how does he even get women into bed? It cannot be very pleasant to someone so self-involved. He is verging on narcissistic, and I think it’s very telling."
"You can’t be serious. That’s very personal." Turning red as a beet, I scowl at him.
Inside, I am really beating myself up because I allowed myself to be put in this situation. Though I can’t see how I could’ve avoided it, I feel stupid.
Dare, on the other hand, seems to be thoroughly enjoying this moment. "I’m just testing the waters. You know you have to be quite explicit when I take your statement. You can’t just say that you had sex. I won't be satisfied with that."
I put a hand to my cheek, feeling like I might burst into flames from the embarrassment he is clearly causing on purpose. The knowing look in his eye makes it even worse.
Standing up, I start to pace the floor. "You know, that gives rise to another question. Why do you want to hear about your brother’s dirty laundry so badly? You don’t seem to me as though you particularly enjoy spending time with me. So, there must be a reason behind your insistence on getting everything on videotape."
He puffs out his cheeks and shoots me a tiny glare. Then he shrugs, clearly irritated by the question. "What business is it of yours?"
Is it strange to say that I get a little pleasure from finding something that is so off-putting to him? I turn on my heel, trying out a smirk on him. It seems to make him fidget, his long fingers drumming rapidly on the brown leather of the couch.
Good. Turnabout is fair play, after all.
"So? Are you going to tell me? Or is it a secret?"
He snarls, jumping up off the couch with surprising speed and grace. He moves towards me, opening his mouth to respond to the question. But just then, I hear a distant voice. The voice is feminine, and it ends with a distinctive, tinkling laugh. I turn my head and realize that Dare has frozen in place, his expression turning black like a thundercloud.
He gives himself a shake, and then he’s on me, grabbing me by the arms and hissing a direction at me. "Let’s go. Come with me."
