Page 16 of Sexy Dare (The Sexy 1)

She nodded, letting him take the suitcase from her hand.

“Don’t you have a club to run?” she asked.

“Yes. And two partners to help in case of emergencies. Getting you out of here and settled at my place is an emergency.”

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout, and it was all he could do not to kiss her and taste that plump flesh for the first time. He understood she was frustrated with the situation, that doing as he said bumped up against her independent streak, but she was also smart and knew that he was right about her apartment and its location.

“Come on.” He followed her out the door, waited as she locked up, and together they headed for his car.

She settled into the plush seat, the sweet scent he’d come to associate with her filling the air around him. Little by little, in the smallest ways, she was making herself a part of his life. He broke into a sweat because despite how hard he was pushing her to move in and be safe, he was breaching his own defenses in the process.

She’d be living in his house, a room apart from him. And though he wanted her in his bed, he had a gut feeling once he tasted her, touched her, had her, she’d burrow so deep inside him, he’d never get her out. He’d never felt this way about any of the women he slept with before. There was something different about Faith and it shook him to his core. The core he was determined to protect from more pain and loss.

He cleared his throat. “So I have a doorman who won’t let anyone up who isn’t cleared on a list,” he said into the silence that had overtaken them as he drove.

“That’s good.”

“I’ll drive you to the store in the morning, and I can work from there during the day.”

She froze, turning slowly in her seat. “You don’t need to be by my side twenty-four hours a day.”

One hand on the wheel, he glanced at her. “Do you want to be alone in the shop when your brother shows up?”

She sighed and shook her head. “No.”

“Then me working from your store it is.”

Before she could say another word, he turned into the parking garage beneath his apartment building. In silence, he guided her up the elevator, taking her silence as nerves.

They walked down the bright hallway, a stark contrast from where she lived. He unlocked the door and unset the alarm before letting her step inside.

“So here we are. I’ll give you the code and a set of keys, but you’re not going out alone. Not until your brother is behind bars. Speaking of, did you tell the police about him?”

He rolled her luggage inside, closed and locked the door.

“No. I didn’t. If it wasn’t Colton, I didn’t want to send them after him and anger him even more. Besides, we have no proof it was him. If the police find fingerprints on the brick, they’ll have evidence then. Can we stop talking about this?” She turned away and he stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey. It’s going to be okay. Let me show you around the place,” he said to distract her from her problems.

She perked up at the subject change. “Show me the palace,” she said.

Grinning, he mock bowed and walked her through the overly large apartment he’d rented. When the nightclub was starting up, he and the guys shared an apartment for the first six months until they realized they might kill each other. They’d spread out to their own places, and since the club started earning right away, with the addition of Jason’s trust fund from his errant father, he’d moved into this gorgeous spread.

“The kitchen is fairly new and large for a Manhattan apartment,” he said as they passed the entryway.

“Wow,” she said, peeking inside. “This is amazing. Do you use it much?”

He shook his head. “Not my thing. I’m not home for meals very often. But while you’re here, consider my kitchen your kitchen.”

“You know I will. This is a great apartment. Big for Manhattan.”

He nodded. “I rented this place because there were two extra-large bedrooms and my family is from Florida. This way my mom can come visit, and up until a few months ago, my sister would come by, too. Now she lives in New York City, as well.”

“You mentioned your mother. What about your father?” Faith asked, as he walked through the living area with his large-screen television and ultra-comfortable oversized sofa.

“That is a long story for another time.” One he wouldn’t be getting into now. “But my mom insisted on flying up and helping me match colors so I could impress any women I brought home,” he said with a grin. “Typical mom, she wants her kids married and settled.” Savannah Dare might have gone the nontraditional mistress route herself, but for her children? She wanted the best.

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