“What about it?”
“You didn’t tell me what it is.”
“No, I didn’t. Did I.”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep it from stretching up to broadcast the fact that he was enjoying himself. He allowed silence to fall and just drank her in for a minute. Best way he’d found to get people to talk was to say as little as possible. Nothing like a good stretch of quiet to get the guts spilling.
But she just stood there looking like she’d been sculpted by Pheidias himself, giving as good as she got. Very nice.
“Not afraid anymore, Red?” Good. His curiosity hadn’t been evident in his voice.
Oh, he’d heard it, but he didn’t think she had.
She scoffed and scanned the area around them again. What was she looking for? “Of you? Please.”
The fun ended immediately, V’s teeth slamming together. He hated liars. With a passion. “You’re not gonna try telling me it wasn’t fear I saw in those eyes back there…are you.”
A flicker of alarm flew over her expression before she hid it. “I’m not?”
“No. You’re not. Because that would be bullshit.” His voice hardened even more. “Believe me, I recognize the expression when I see it.”
“You should. Look at you.” Her arm came up so she could glance at the sleek silver watch on her wrist.
Was he keeping her from something? Tough shit. “Somewhere you need to be? Late for an appointment, maybe?”
She shrugged, unconcerned, and he was suddenly overcome with an uncontrollable urge to smash her unflappable air to pieces. “How long have you worked this place?”
Ugh. Shut. Up. You immature, nasty prick.
Confusion put a miniscule wrinkle in the creamy skin of her brow. “Pardon?”
“How long. Have you. Worked. This place?” He pushed himself off the door, the soft whoosh of it closing them together in the quiet hallway. “Do you charge hourly or a flat rate? Do you keep a permanent room upstairs or do you make your men pay for it per visit?” He’d reached her at that point and had to clench his fists at his sides so he didn’t give in and brush his fingers over the flawless skin covering high cheekbones. Was it as soft as it appeared? “Can you cancel your next appointment so I can take you upstairs right now and make you scream?”
Vincente watched something wild skip over her expression at that last question; those soft pink lips even parted on a gasp. But then anger swallowed the lot and he got a front-row center to the reaction any self-respecting woman would have to being propositioned.
She lit up with a blazing fury that left him unable to hide his grin. Expecting it, he easily caught the hand that flew like a bullet toward his face, but had to move fast to catch a sharp knee on the side of his thigh instead of in his junk where she’d been quite accurately aiming. Her other hand came up as she grunted in frustration—this time with a closed fist? Shit! He almost laughed out loud. His pleasure in her actions didn’t stop him from snagging that wrist, also, and holding both in a loose but unbreakable grip.
“You big…you…pussy! What. Did I hurt your feelings when I agreed with you on how you view yourself? So you imply that I’m a prostitute? Seriously? Why? Because I’m half-decent-looking and wearing heels in the daytime? Seriously? And do you even realize what a loser you painted yourself by offering to hire me? Get your hands off me,” she snapped, almost as though only then realizing he still held her. She blinked when he immediately heeded her order but didn’t hesitate to take an unsteady step back. She didn’t get far when her back came up against the wall.
“Am I wrong?” he asked, privately astounded at the accuracy of her short rant. Pissed, actually, that she’d read him so well. “My bad. And you’re right. When I see a woman like you, strolling through the place like she owns it, which I know for a fact she doesn’t…” He inched closer, liking the nearly inaudible catch of her breath. Her eyes darted from his chest to his face a few times. “She’s alone…” He closed the remaining distance, so close now that he could see glimmers of gold in her eyes. His voice softened—and not on purpose. “Half-decent looking? Come on, Red. You look like you were created for the specific purpose of lying under a man. And you know it.” Not a man. This man.