You really want me to eat brruusseels sprouts.” Either Finn doesn’t like his boss, or he fears him. My irritation quickly changes into curiosity. Why not ask, now that he’s being honest? “On a scale of one to ten, how angry will your boss be when he discovers you’ve partnered with me?”
His body stiffens around me. “Zero,” he mutters.
“You mean the worst, like a hundred.”
“I mean zero, like a dead man who doesn’t rate.”
I swallow hard. Not at his explanation but more so because of the sudden tension I feel in his body. “So, he’d fire you over this?”
Finn doesn’t answer.
“Then I need to make this partnership worth it. Can’t have you risking your career for the sake of helping mine flourish.” His earlier message about testing me after the fun we had last night still stings. But reaffirming that this is a business arrangement between us is the best way to progress.
“Just follow my feckin’ directions,” he gruffly says. “Understand?”
“You lead. I follow.”
“Good. Now that that’s settled.” I gasp as he tugs me up onto my toes and into his chest. “One more wee detail you best prepare for,” is all the warning I get. With a dip of his head, he presses his lips to mine.
And kisses me.
It’s light and gentle and shockingly enough, so unFinn-like. It’s not an innocent kiss or an overtly seductive one.
And it sure as hell isn’t clumsy.
My eyes flutter. Why isn’t it clumsy?
As if sensing my confusion, he glides his tongue between my lips and deepens the connection. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and lean into him. Wanting to discover exactly what I missed before.
He groans and breaks away.
I blink as he locks eyes with me, running his fingers across his smooth jawline while trying to hide how his cock is as hard as Bethlehem steel inside his loose-fitting track pants.
What would push him to the breaking point?
I shrug.
His eyebrows arch.
“That was . . . nice.”
“Nice?” He scowls.
“Sweet. Less abrasive than our last kiss.”
“Nice,” he mutters.
“Yes.”
“You don’t say?” Casual, no-hurries, no-worries Finn is gone. Replaced by a man three steps shy of tackling me to the ground and proving me wrong. Yes, that kiss was something. Full of promise. Surprising. Finn has been holding out on me.
He studies me for several seconds. “Yer taking the piss.”
“Just testing you, Double-O-Seven” I toss his words back in his face. I brace myself for his reaction. Will he kiss me and prove my point, that he knows a thing or two about kissing? Or will he change the subject and maneuver our conversation over to one more to his liking?
My lips part in surprise as Finn bursts into laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“Deserved that, didn’t I?”
“A few times over.”
“Remind me never to get on yer bad side.”
“Finn, you can’t help but piss people off.” I sigh. “And I should be angry at you. You kiss . . . fine enough.”
“Fine enough?”
I shake my head. “With more skill than you led me to believe. Or maybe it was that beard . . .”
“Bloody nuisance, it was.”
“But the question of the hour is why? Why did you kiss me? Was it another test of yours?”
“Practice,” he tells me. “You’re my beour now. Get used to kissing, cuddling, and me whispering sweet nothings in yer ear. We need to be convincing so no one will feck with what’s mine.”
I turn away from him, disappointed. I shouldn’t be. We work together, that’s all. Pretending to be a couple is part of it. So why do I wish that kiss meant more? I feel him watching me and want nothing more than to put some distance between us.
“See you in another ten kilometers,” I tell him, prepared to take off running.
“Clarissa, wait.” He says my name softly, like a caress, and I can’t help but turn his way.
“That kiss . . .,” he smiles softly at me, “it wasn’t a test.”
“What was it then?” I gasp, shocked.
“That, Clarissa, was a taste,” is his smug reply. “See if you can catch up to me this time.” And, with that, he’s off.
I give chase, my body responding to the challenge.
But it’s my thoughts and feelings for this confusing man that has some catching up to do.
14
Finn
The underground is thick with cigarette smoke, loud conversations, and big-headed lads looking for a fight. Little mind is paid to us as I lead Clarissa through the crowd. Something I’ll remedy sooner rather than later.
“This place is mobbed,” she hollers over the noise. She’s looking hot. Casual