He knelt at the end of the bed, poured a large dollop of oil into his hands, and rubbed them together. 'There's nothing much to tell.'
Somehow, she very much doubted that. This man had as many secrets as his gray eyes had shades. 'So you have no existence outside the realm of this club?'
His voice held an odd edge of bitterness. 'You could say that. Close your eyes.'
She did. He didn't start with her feet, as she'd half expected him to, but her upper legs. His big hands pressing and caressing her thighs, his thumbs scooting along the inside of her leg, teasing her, driving her insane with desire.
Her sigh was a thick sound of pleasure and frustration combined.
Yet as much as she'd have loved to simply lay there and enjoy his touch, she couldn't. She was here to question this man, and she had to keep trying to do that, even through the erotic assault on her senses.
'You implied that you're rich. Considering money has never fallen off trees, you must do something to get it.'
'My family was wealthy. I inherited it.'
The warm scent of honey and citrus curled through the air, arousing her senses almost as much as the steady, teasing closeness of his fingers. But somehow she retained enough presence of mind to continue the conversation. 'So your parents are dead?'
He nodded, something she oddly felt rather than saw.
'Ages ago.'
'In an accident?'
'No, murdered.'
His touch lightly skimmed her vagina, teasing her from behind. She shuddered, and somehow resisted the urge to press into his fingers, to shift and make them slide deep inside, to where it ached so very badly. She licked her lips and, voice croaky with desire, said, 'Oh. Sorry.'
He didn't reply to that, just began working his way up her butt and across her back. Part of her mourned the loss of his touch further down, but his fingers were weaving such a spell that it felt as if she was walking a tightrope above a whirlpool of desire. A rope that was threatening to give way at any moment and plunge her headfirst into those glorious waters.
She wanted to drown in those waters. Just wanted to lay here and enjoy his touch and his presence. Instead, she asked, 'Then what do you actually do?'
'Nothing terribly important.'
She opened an eye and gave him a mock glare. 'I'd really like to know a bit more about the man who intends to make me yodel.'
His soft chuckle shivered across her skin and made her heart do strange little turns. 'Who I am is not important.
What I can do is.'
'Maybe to you.' She paused, then decided to push him a little more. Gentle persuasion certainly wasn't getting her much in the way of information. 'You know, I met a rather sexy plumber on the way to the restroom. In two minutes I found out more about him than I have with you in an hour.
Maybe I should just leave and seek out a partner more willing to share.'
His grip tightened on her shoulder, his touch almost bruising. 'You are mine.'
'I belong to no one but myself.'
The sudden edge of anger in her voice was unforced. If there was one thing guaranteed to raise a shifter's ire, it was the notion of 'ownership.' Way back in the past, before shifters had gained rights in the eyes of the law, they were considered genetic freaks who were more animal than human, so humans had been able to own, and generally abuse, a shifter as they saw fit. Even now, hundreds of years later, the mere mention of ownership or control was a guarantee of a firefight. And Grey, being a shifter himself, should have known better than to use such a word.
'And if I choose to walk out of here,' she continued hotly.
'I will do so, and you had better not try to stop me.'
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His gray eyes showed a moment of indecision, and perhaps just a little frustration, then it was gone, lost to the wintry depths.
He raised his hands. 'If you want to walk, then do so now.' His voice was flat, yet the air between them fairly burned with anger. Not hers. His. And it was aimed as much at himself as her. Odd, to say the least. 'Because if you stay,' he continued, 'you will hold to our bargain. And be very aware of the fact that I intend to make you mine.'
As much as she tried to retain her anger at his words, she couldn't. How could she, when being his for the night equaled many hours of sensual, erotic delights?
Yet as she continued to stare into the stormy depths of his eyes, she wasn't at all sure he was talking about just a night.
The shiver that ran across her skin was part anticipation, part alarm. And totally stupid. After all, hadn't he already stated he was merely cruising? That he wasn't looking for anything permanent?
For that matter, neither was she. Obviously, common sense had flown out the window in the scramble for satisfaction.
'All I'm asking is a fair exchange of information.'
'What I do for a living doesn't affect what we both want—
or what I intend to do to you. Why are you so intent on delving into my life, when, right now, all that matters is quenching what lies between us?'
His voice was still flat, but his suspicion wasn't only in his words but swirling in the heated air between them. He was far too wary to be an innocent man, and yet, something within her just couldn't see him as a killer. Not of innocent, lonely women, anyway.
Or did she simply want to believe that so she could be free to enjoy his touch without regret, without worry?
'I don't think wanting to know a little more about you is unreasonable. Even if both of us know nothing will come of this liaison.' She sat up. 'This is ridiculous. I don't even know why I'm here.'
He raised an eyebrow at that, an almost condescending smile touching his luscious lips. 'You're here for the same reason I am. Amazing sex.'
True, but he was here for reasons other than sex. Exactly what those reasons might be was what she had to uncover.
Amazing sex might be a pleasant by-product of her investigations, but it couldn't be the total sum. Not with this man. 'I'm here to find a man to have kids with. You're merely playing. Truth is, I'm wasting my time with you.'
'Great sex is never a waste of time.'
She swung her legs off the bed and walked over to grab her dress. His expression was amused, as if he didn't really believe she'd actually walk out the door.
And suddenly she knew that's exactly what she had to do.
The suspicion that stung the air, as well as the way he reacted to personal questions, suggested he was well aware that she was here to find out more about him. It didn't matter why he suspected her, just that he did. And if she wanted to retrieve the situation, she'd have to walk out. Staying would only confirm his suspicions—and that could be dangerous.
'Great sex is something I can find anywhere. I'm after a whole lot more.' There was a ring of truth in her words that surprised even her. 'Thanks for reminding me about that.'
She grabbed her shoes, then turned her back on him and walked out.
And tried to ignore the frustrated screaming of her hormones.
Chapter Three
