“So you were having fantasies about me?” The amusement definitely deepened.
She sent him a look of sheer reprimand from under her long lashes. “Newsflash for you, Ridley, every woman has fantasies about you. That’s your gift. But the fact that you just blew one of the biggest parts of my daydreams about you took your hotness down a notch or two. Zen was very ‘it’ for me. You rocked that cool vibe.”
“You have fantasies and daydreams about me?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know you’re freakin’ hot. The way you look at women, there’s not a doubt in my mind they’re all over you, and you’ve got that hound dog disdain.”
His eyebrow shot up. “Woman. You cannot tell me I’m the thing of fantasies in one breath and say I’m a hound dog in the next.”
She gave him a serious look. “They aren’t mutually exclusive. You are, right? A player? A hound dog? The kind of man who kicks a woman out of his bed right after sex and then loses her phone number?”
His eyes laughed at her. “I don’t take women to my bed, I’m usually in their beds, and I get up and leave. They know the score or I wouldn’t be in their beds in the first place.”
She nodded. “Yep. A player and a hound dog. And just so you know, telling you about my now completely blown fantasy does not mean I’m giving you the go-ahead to make a move on me. Fantasy and reality are two very different things.”
“I see.”
Catarina secretly hugged herself. She had forgotten it was fun talking to another person. She didn’t allow herself that luxury, not ever anymore. Well, sometimes with Malcom, but not like this. Not just saying anything that came into her head. Watching Ridley’s face lose the stone-carved effect and replacing it with laughter was fun. Just fun. She’d forgotten what that was like. Or truthfully, she hadn’t known about having fun in the first place.
They rounded the corner of the second block and started down the third before she remembered he was holding her hand. Before she realized she hadn’t taken a careful look around her to make certain no one was following. The smile inside slipped away. Vigilance was far more important than fun. She actually liked Ridley, even though she was certain he was too beautiful for any woman to ever keep. She didn’t want to be responsible for anything happening to him.
Catarina tried to slip her hand out of his, a subtle retreat, nothing overt that he would notice. He noticed. His hand tightened around hers and he looked down at her immediately. He had eyes that saw everything. He didn’t fail to see her gaze scanning the rooftops and the fire escapes as they passed the buildings.
“What is it?”
His voice was low. Velvet. So soft and perfect she nearly closed her eyes against the mesmerizing sound. She was fairly certain he could growl, she’d heard him do it once. Now, she thought he could probably purr as well. For some reason, the moment it came into her mind, her body reacted, going feminine on her. She decided it was him. Ridley just had a way with women and he was casting a spell.
“Nothing.” She was back to mumbling, her sense of fun fading along with her confidence.
She felt vulnerable and exposed walking beside him. Alone she could stay in the shadows, close to the building if there were no openings, slipping back toward the street if she couldn’t see directly into the alleyways and doorways. Ridley walked straight down the center of the sidewalk, head up, shoulders straight, and he looked like a man no one ever messed with. She was certain most men would take one look at him and scurry away.
Rafe Cordeau was not that kind of man. He would walk right up to Ridley, staring him straight in the eye, and without a single word slit his throat. Or his belly. Her fault. She glanced at their linked hands. Rafe would kill him. There would be no discussion and no way to stop him.
Her heart began to pound and she tasted fear in her mouth. “I don’t know you well enough to hold your hand and it makes me uncomfortable.”
It wasn’t a lie, although she’d enjoyed the moment with him, the moment of fun she’d always remember. Still, she was uncomfortable holding hands because she liked it – maybe a little too much. But she wasn’t a woman who could ever walk openly down a street with a man and feel comfortable. And she wasn’t naïve enough not to realize Ridley Cromer was way out of her league, even if she didn’t have hell following her around.
Ridley’s piercing gaze searched her face and then their surroundings. His eyes moved in a search pattern around them, the alleys, the streets, the alcoves and doorways. Only then did he look up toward the rooftops and fire escapes as she’d done.
“You’re afraid, Kitten, but not of me. Whatever it is you’re afraid of, know that when you’re with me, you’re perfectly safe.”
Supreme confidence. Ridley was a man who had been in dangerous situations, she could tell that. In some circumstances he was probably a very scary man, but no one was in Rafe’s class. No one. She couldn’t explain him to anyone, they’d think she was insane. They’d lock her up and make it easy for Rafe to come get her.
What had she been thinking? She’d let walking with a very attractive man override her good sense. Fun wasn’t worth getting someone killed.
She sent Ridley a quick look from under her lashes. It was there again. The expression that told her she’d made a terrible mistake revealing this side of her. She’d suppressed it for so long, it just came out, as unexpected to her as it was to him.
“I’m used to being alone, that’s all. I’m careful. I don’t want you to think I was flirting with you, I wasn’t.” And she hadn’t been. She didn’t even know how to flirt. She didn’t look at men. She’d made an art out of finding everywhere to look but at any man in the room with her. She’d trained herself from the time she was eleven years old.
“You don’t have to try to flirt, Kitten.” Ridley’s voice was soft, gentle even.
For some reason the way he spoke made her insides melt a little. Her body reacted to just the sound of his voice. She bit her bottom lip hard to try to counteract the effect.
“You smile at a man, or look at him with your gorgeous eyes, and he’s a goner. That’s just the reality of it.”
She refused to wrap herself up in his compliment. She’d never had compliments before. Not ever. Not personal. About her coffee maybe, but not like this. She couldn’t remember anyone being so fun. She’d had her first kindness from Malcom. Now she had her first best time with a man. She couldn’t keep him, but she could have the memories, and when she was alone, then she’d wrap herself up in his compliments and savor them.
The warehouses loomed on the next block. They turned the corner and crossed the street, angling toward the center one. It looked old from the outside. Old and tired. A single light illuminated a heavy door. There were three cargo doors, all padlocked. Ridley scowled at them.