He turned so she couldn’t see anything except the back of the elevator and how fine his ass was. She concentrated on that and not the fact that they were in a small, enclosed space. “He’s a drama queen. He’s not going to kill anyone. He’s definitely not going to kill Eli Nelson because he won’t find the fucker without me.”
A hard smack. Yes, he was definitely coming to the end of his rope.
He slapped a hand at the buttons and the door closed. He made not a single move to let her down.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ian.”
“I’ll bar you from the building.”
“That’s going to be hard since I own half of the top floor.”
A small pause. “No, you fucking don’t.”
It was time to point out a few irrefutable truths of his situation. “We didn’t have a prenup, babe. Even if we did, this is property you bought after our nuptials. Texas is a community property state. What’s yours is mine. On the happy side, I have a ten million dollar condo I’ll share with you. I even bought thousand thread count sheets. I know you have sensitive skin.”
He let her down with a little shove, placing distance between them. His hand shot out, pressing the button that caused the elevator to stop mid-descent. “What the fuck are you trying to pull, Charlie?”
She preferred it when he was carrying her like a sack of flour. At least there had been a connection then. Now she felt the space between them. And the tightness of the elevator. “I’m trying to make things right.”
“You can’t. I can’t ever trust you again.”
“Ian, I made a terrible mistake. I should have trusted you. I should have told you what was happening.” That was her real crime. She’d thought he would help her, save her, but she hadn’t risked it. From the day her father had kidnapped her until that moment when she’d taken Nelson’s drug, her life had been a careful balancing act, a constant game of not tripping over the landmines of her father’s world. Everyone in that world wanted something from her and they were all willing to hurt her to get it.
She hadn’t known there was trust and love and softness in the world until she’d met Ian Taggart.
“I would have had you taken back to the States and placed under custody,” he explained. “You did the right thing if you wanted to stay out of the rendition pool. You played me and you played me well.”
“You knew something was wrong, Ian. You knew it, but you didn’t do a damn thing about it because you were in love with me.” If she could just get him to admit it, maybe they had a chance. Her hands were starting to shake. Just a little. She could handle it.
“I was thinking with my dick. I don’t do that anymore. You cost me my job, Charlotte. How on earth do you think I would ever give you another shot? Do you want to kill me this time?”
“If I wanted to do that I wouldn’t be here.”
He leaned against the elevator wall, studying her through hooded eyes. “Or, the more likely scenario is you need intelligence for your boss and you think you can seduce me again. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m attracted to you. You’re exactly my type. Big tits, nice hips. You’re not some petite little thing I could crush. I wish it wasn’t true, but I want to fuck you hard. I want to do it here and now. You might have control over my dick, but it won’t change a damn thing. I’ll fuck you and then I’ll kick you out of this building and then I won’t give you another thought.”
She hated how much his words could torch her, but she’d figured out a long time ago that this was the price she had to pay. This terrible vulnerability was the price all women paid for loving a man. If she closed herself off, built up a wall between them, then she would never get back to that place where she’d been loved and safe and pure. God, loving him had made her pure, and she hadn’t felt that way in such a long time.
She reached out to him, letting her fingers brush the bristly skin of his jawline. He hadn’t bothered to shave. “I always think about you.”
He forced her hand away. “No, Charlie. Not like that. If you want to throw down, I’ll do you, but I won’t listen to that shit again.”
Because it wasn’t shit. Because he’d loved how she’d loved him. He couldn’t fool her. He could lie all he liked, but it was there in his eyes.
“Will you kiss me?” It would all be worth it if he would put his lips on hers again.
His head shook, a sharp rejection. “No. I don’t kiss.”
“You did.” He’d kissed her so long. He’d spent what felt like hours drugging her with kisses.
“I don’t now.”
“So you haven’t kissed anyone since me?”
Ian’s lips curled up in an evil little smile. “I’ve fucked probably a hundred women since you, darling.”
But he hadn’t kissed a single one of them. It made her heart leap. “I haven’t kissed anyone either. Not in all these years.”
His eyes went stony. “I don’t care.”
She had to find a way to make him care. “Will you just let Adam look at the data I collected?”
“I’ll find my own,” he replied.
“God, you are so stubborn.”
“It would do you well to remember that.” His phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and grimaced. “Speak of the devil. What is it, Adam?” He snarled into the receiver. “No, I am not fucking my fucking wife in the fucking goddamn elevator. I’m having a discussion with her. And she’s not my fucking wife. And tell security I’ll start the goddamn elevator when I’m good and ready. You know I can fire you, asshole, so watch it.”
He slid the phone back in his pants and jabbed the button on the elevator.
“I forgot about the claustrophobia. I’ll have you at the bottom in a minute.” He sounded almost tender, but then seemed to remember he shouldn’t do that. “When we get to the lobby, you don’t have to worry about close spaces because you never have to walk into this building again.”
The elevator slid down the shaft, and Ian turned away from her.
The doors opened, revealing a pretty young woman in a yellow skirt and a blouse that was at least a size too big for her. She wore glasses, and her dark hair was in a messy bun.
She’d been smiling, but she lost it once she looked at Ian. She looked like a deer in the headlights of a raging oncoming truck.