Scarlett Red: A Billionaire SEAL Story, Part 2 (In the Shadows) (7 page)

Lifting my chin, his expression is hard as granite. “I do have one question. Who is Hayes?”

I swallow and literally feel the blood drain from my face. “Hayes?”

He nods but doesn’t release me. “You called him a ‘twisted motherfucker.’ Call it a hunch, but I doubt you go around using that kind of language all the time.”

Blow it off, Talia!
I pull from his hold. “He’s no one,” I say and start to step around him, but Bash clasps my arm.

“T…” When I look up, he turns me back toward him. “Why did you take the shot?”

I blink. “What?”

He moves until his broad chest is almost touching mine. Sliding his thumb along my jaw, he pauses beneath my ear. “Why did you choose the vodka?”

Instead of kissing you?

I’ve been trying to ignore the tingling each time he touches me, but this time when he applies gentle pressure before moving his thumb down the side of my neck, I burn. Deep scorching heat that shoots straight to my toes.

Before I can think of a proper response, he lowers his head.

Oh, God! He’s going to kiss me
.
This is a bad idea. Right?
Despite my thoughts, a jolt of lust curls in my belly, stealing my ability to speak.

His mouth stops a breath away from mine. “Regret it now?”

Frustration and relief war in my head, while desire shoots straight past my chest and vaults to my brain, demanding I press my lips to his. I resist the strong temptation with everything I’ve got. If I kiss him, I know it’ll be for all the wrong reasons. The main one being… he’d just be a substitute for the man I really want.

Why can’t I forget about you, Sebastian?

A satisfied smile curls his lips right before he closes the distance. The moment he connects, I take a step back and somehow manage a calm tone while my heart thumps at a crazy, rapid-fire pace. “I think it’s best if I go back to my room now. Thank you for getting me out of that bar safely, Bash. I really appreciate it. It turns out you were right. Talking to Donald will have to wait until tomorrow.”

I shove my bra and phone in my purse and head for the door. Just as I put my hand on the door handle, Bash says from a few feet behind me, “You think the hired help is beneath you, is that it?”

I turn to him, not liking his assumption or sarcasm. “I’ve never considered myself above anyone. Ever. Just because you stripped off my clothes while I was
unconscious
, don’t presume you know anything about me.”

He glances down at my ring hand on the doorknob. “I know enough.”

Okay, so I participated in an impromptu spin-the-bottle event, but it was only because he assumed that I planned to ignore his offer to take me to Donald, so of course I had to prove him wrong. Why have I let this man get under my skin? Maybe he should feel some of that itchy burn. “You want to know why I took that vodka shot? Because
there wasn’t anything there
. No spark.”

He barks out a laugh. “Does the truth
ever
come out of your mouth?” Crossing his arms, he adopts a confident stance, perfect biceps and corded muscles flexing underneath his heather gray T-shirt. “I know chemistry, and you and I, we’ve fucking got it in spades, sweetheart. Once you’re ready to admit I’m right about
that
too, know this….” His brilliant blue gaze slices into me. “When I kiss you, I’ll
own
you, and you’ll be the one pulling my clothes off.”

“Arrogant ass!” I snort. “Do you even
own
a razor?” I don’t care that my dig sounds as pretentious as he accused me of being a second ago. The guy has just pushed one too many buttons. Ignoring his chuckle, I start to turn the door handle when he switches to an autocratic tone.

“Don’t leave here again without me.”

I swivel around, feminine hackles raised. “You’re
not
my keeper.”

He lowers his arms to his sides. “Have you ever been kept? Really kept?” he asks, his voice quietly intense. “The way a woman like you should be?”

Something in his voice hits me hard and my bones start to melt at a traitorously embarrassing pace. I straighten my spine and speak past the sudden scratch in my voice. “No self-respecting woman would ever let herself be
kept
.”

“So you haven’t.” The pleased purr in his statement, followed by a lion-like curl of his lip kindles the tiny fires flickering through me into a raging blaze. His gaze drops briefly to my left hand. “It has nothing to do with a flimsy promise behind that piece of metal around your finger.”

When he takes a step forward, I cinch my hand tight on the handle, ready to bolt, but his mesmerizing voice holds me captive. “It has everything to do with giving yourself over in a complete physical sense. I can show you exactly what that feels like.” His focus travels from my face, down my body and back, leaving a singing path in its wake. “And you’ll love every aching minute of it.”

Why are his words hitting me right in the gut? He’s talking like I’ve already agreed. I shake my head to snap myself out of his hypnotic sexual lure. “Stop trying to seduce me.” His sudden dark smile reminds me so much of Sebastian, I grit my teeth and take a deep breath through my nose. “Seriously. Just stop.”

“Are you done arguing with me?” he says in a calm, even tone. “Especially after what happened today.”

He’d switched gears so fast, I blink a couple times before it occurs to me what he’s talking about. He’s referring to me not going anywhere without him. “It’s Martha’s Vineyard for Pete’s sake. Today was a weird circum—”

“
T…
” He cuts me off, dogged determination in the stubborn lines on his face.

“
Fine
,” I huff, exhausted from his mental gymnastics. Opening the door, I stalk off to the quiet sanctuary of my room.

T
he moment the sunlight hits my eyes, they pop open. I lay in bed trying to fall back to sleep, but all I can think about is the wildly erotic dreams I tossed and turned to. Every single one featured Bash talking to me about what it means to be his
kept
woman. And even though all he did was talk, I’m laying here in this massive king-sized bed with a painful ache between my thighs, wondering if there’s a female equivalent to blue balls. If any man’s voice could drive a woman to the brink of sheer sexual frustration, it would be Bash’s ultra sexy bass whispering in her ear.

And God, do I ache. Rolling over, I decide exercise may be the only thing that’ll expel some of this pent-up passion. If I use the indoor pool now, no one should be around. I’ll have it all to myself. The throbbing continues and just as I punch my pillow, my phone rings. Surprised by the early call, I glance at the ID, then click the answer button. “Hey, traitor. Please tell me Simone and Nicolai were worth ditching your best friend for.”

“My God, they’ve been so worth it!” Cass says with way too much pep for such an early hour.

“Don’t hold back,” I say on a yawn. “Tell me how you really feel.”

Cass laughs. “I’m just so psyched to have some amazing shots to add to my portfolio. Sergio liked my shots so much, he booked a couple more shoots while we’re here. You uh, don’t sound very awake.”

“Congrats on more work. And I sound tired because it’s six in the morning here.” I yawn again.

“Ah, that’s right. I always forget time zones. Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to see how it’s going, you swinging single.”

I chuckle as I stretch. “Actually, I’m in investigative mode.”

“What? You’re working on your book? That doesn’t sound like any fun, Talia. I told you not to bring your laptop.”

“I listen to you about as well as you listen to me.” Running my fingers through my hair, I slide out of the massive bed and tell her what happened to the fan I’d sent to Hawthorne and the mysterious second fan who showed up later, while I pull out my laptop and turn it on.

“Wow! Okay, I admit that’s sad about the lady, and very strange about the second surprise super fan. I’m sure your mind is going, but please don’t spend all your time working. That kind of defeats the whole purpose of why you’re there.”

“I only came for
you
.” I snort while I pull up the photo Delia Chambers had sent me from the themed reader dinner in honor of my last book’s New Orleans’ setting. Luckily, she’d also provided the names of everyone who’d shown up. Sure enough, Mr. Sheehan was listed among the attendees. Dark-haired with a round, expressive face and a barrel chest, he looks like he’s in his mid-forties.

“I really am sorry I couldn’t come, Talia. I’ll make it up to you. In the meantime, you should take advantage of the social events going on. Isn’t tonight supposed to be the masked ball? I was so looking forward to wearing that kickass black dress I bought last month in Paris. You and I together at a masked event again…ah, such fond memories.”

“You’re not the one who had to cart your drunk ass home,” I say as I send the picture to my phone.

Cass
tsks
. “I know you got your very first
some, some
that night, chickie, so don’t pretend you don’t have fond memories of crashing that costume party. Do you think your Robin Hood actually showed for that coffee date you totally missed the next day? I can’t believe you never used your investigative skills to hunt down that man. He was hella hot!”

I haven’t tried because Sebastian and I had already crossed paths before I “met” him at the party that night. Eight years before, actually. He didn’t remember meeting me during such a dark time in my life, and I prefer to keep it that way.

“We were heading on different paths, Cass. He’s probably married with a couple of kids by now,” I say in a dry tone.

“Well, this second time around will be even better.” She lets out a wistful sigh. “And, now that you’re three years wiser, I’m sure you’ll totally have the men at that ball on bended knee. Please tell me you brought the gown with the low scoop that exposes your entire back? They’re going to drool all over themselves. Promise me you’ll take time away from investigating to go. That way I can live vicariously through you.”

The pout in her voice tells me she really was excited about attending that event, at least. Of course, it does make me wonder why she prefers fairytale scenarios to real life—even her photography features beautiful people living exclusive and elaborate lifestyles—but I know not to ask. Cass has her own dirty laundry shoved to the back of the closet too. Part of our mutual respect is that we get each other’s need to keep our baggage firmly tucked away.

“Yes, I did bring the backless dress. That’s one event I thought would be fun to attend.” I smirk as I realize that, like Cass, I like the idea of hiding behind a mask. There’s just something incredibly appealing about the opportunity to conceal myself in a veil of anonymity, even if it’s just for an evening.
God, a therapist would have a field day with me.

My phone beeps with an incoming message, making me realize I need to start moving if I want to squeeze that swim in before the pool gets crowded. “I’ll be sure to make the most of it for the both of us.”

“You’d better!”

My screen shows a message from Cynthia responding to my quick reply to her last night when I got back to my room.

Cynthia: Glad you’re feeling better. Dancing rocked, but now I need a massage. You must get one! One guy in particular has the BEST hands. ;)