The Hunt Masquerade - Milly Taiden Page 0,26

returned.

“So, what? You asked her for my name and information? And she just gave away the information?”

“She sure did.” He flipped her business card from his pocket. “She is a big fan of your work. She was only too happy to give me your name and number. She was so hoping that you would drum up some business for your label because of the party. I’m only happy to oblige.”

Chantal shook her head, and it was only then that she realized that it didn’t matter if she was a brilliant designer. She was standing there, in front of a sex god, wearing a baggy tee with holes the size of tangerines, no bra, and, more importantly, with only granny panties under the T-shirt.

She wanted to melt into the floorboards. What had possessed her to open the door, she couldn’t fathom.

It didn’t explain why Rush was undressing her with his eyes. Chantal pulled at the hem of her shirt. “You can’t just show up at people’s houses unannounced, you know. That is really rude.”

“Is it?” He leaned against the door frame, a smile bending his lips. “About as rude as it is to give a man the best sex of his life and then leave without so much as a goodbye kiss in the morning?”

“It wasn’t the best sex of your life,” she argued, feeling herself blush all the way to the tips of her toes.

Rush leaped away from the door and took a few steps toward her, crowding her space. Chantal had to crane her neck up to meet his eyes. “I assure you, love. It was most definitely the best sex of my life.”

“Then you need to get out more,” she quipped back.

“No. Invite me in.” He was smiling, but his tone had an edge of command.

“I’d rather not.”

“Why?” His confusion made her heart slide.

Did she want him in her small, dingy apartment? There was no way she could keep up the strong, mysterious persona of Chacha now. That had gone out with the bathwater as soon as she had opened the door.

“Why, Chantal?” he repeated, using her name again. Did he know the effect that this had on her?

“Because.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“You’re right, you’re not uncomfortable. You’re positively thrilled that I’ve found you.”

How the fuck could he possibly know that?

Unless Rush turned out to be a mind reader, there was no way he could know that her heart was beating ten trillion beats a minute. He couldn’t know that she was already highly aroused. And there was definitely no way he could know that she wanted nothing more than to grab him from the hall, close the door and fuck him up against the wall of her apartment.

“Invite me into your place, Chacha.”

The way he used her nickname like it was the sweetest word in the world made her shiver. Good lord, she always did just as he commanded. Thankfully, her dumb brain thought better of it with seconds to spare.

“I don’t think that is a good idea.”

“I think we need to talk.”

“We don’t. Haven’t you ever had a one-night stand?” she asked, already knowing and dreading the answer. There was no way a man hot like Rush didn’t get around.

“Never.” His answer took her entirely by surprise. “Let me in, Chantal.”

“I want to understand why you’re here.”

“If you let me in, we can talk about it.”

The neighbor chose that precise moment to swing open her door. “Is everything okay, Chacha?”

“Yes, Mrs. Feldman. I’m fine. I’ll bring your hemmed pants in the morning.”

“Oh, thanks, dear.” Mrs. Feldman stood there, just staring at them.

The only way to make the older woman stop ogling Rush’s butt was to let him into the apartment. She moved to the side, and he quickly followed, closing the door behind them.

“Just so you know,” she said, “if it wasn’t for nosy neighbors, you would still be out there.”

Rush sat on the sofa, patting the seat next to him, much like he had done the night before. It gave her all kinds of flashbacks. The good, dirty kind. That didn’t mean she would just listen. Instead of taking the seat next to him, she sat at her sewing machine. It put distance and a physical barrier between them and the things she wanted to do to him.

It was strange seeing Rush looking so handsome and dressed up in her small, dingy apartment. He filled every single inch of space with his presence. Chantal shifted uncomfortably on her seat, wishing she had pants on. At