Beneath This Ink Page 12

I refused to look up, knowing that his expression would be smoldering, promising me things I couldn’t have.

“No.” My tone was implacable.

“Look at me.”

“No,” I repeated.

“Then you’re screwed. And not in the way that ends with you coming all over my dick.”

His crude taunt worked. I ripped my gaze away from the studs of his tuxedo shirt and up to his face.

“Like I said before, you’re a pig.”

“And it turns out that you’re not a whore.” He shifted his grip on my wrists to one hand and lowered the other to brush a lock of hair away from my face. “Good to know.”

“Then if you don’t want me to whore myself out, what do you want from me?”

“Like I said, a shot.”

I huffed out a frustrated breath. “But what does that mean?”

“What would you do if I told you I wanted to pick you up at your front door and take you out on the town?”

My blood froze. If that was his requirement, then it was out of the question.

A perfectly executed project wouldn’t matter if my reputation were in tatters. When I didn’t answer right away, Con released my wrists and pushed away from the wall. He crossed to the other side of the coatroom as though wanting to get as far away from me as possible.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, spinning back around to face me.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“That look of horror on your face said it all.” He punctuated his words with a humorless laugh, and I felt my chance slipping away. But the strange part was, I didn’t know if it was the chance at the property or the elusive second chance with Con that I was going to be more devastated to lose.

That can’t matter. But I could be honest with him.

“It’s not personal. I couldn’t publicly date any guy with the kind of reputation you’ve carved out for yourself. Right now, I’m an asset to the foundation. Even if I were to get the property, if at any time my reputation were to become… a liability, I’d kiss my chance at running the place goodbye.”

Con’s eyes lit with something I couldn’t identify. But I was pretty sure it wasn’t defeat. It looked a lot more like… victory.

“So the flip side of your statement means that you wouldn’t have a problem dating someone like me under the radar.”

When had a shot with me moved to dating? Was that really what he wanted? Con didn’t even like me. None of this made sense.

“Why would you even want that? I mean, if I were you, I wouldn’t bother with someone who wasn’t willing to stand beside me in public.” I knew I was damning my own cause with that statement, but it had to be said.

He leaned back against the paneled wall and watched me. With the licks of ink escaping from beneath the crisp, white collar and cuffs of his shirt, his unruly hair, and relaxed stance, he looked like he should be posing for the Toss Me Your Panties calendar. Stop thinking about him like that, dammit.

“I’m not a regular guy, Van. I’ve spent years in the shadows, and I have no problem with staying there.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” I asked.

“You don’t need to know. Suffice it to say, whatever happens between us, for now, I don’t want it to be any more public than you do.”

My mouth fell open into a little O, and a small, vain part of me burned to know why Con Leahy wouldn’t want the world to know he was dating me.

Con pushed off the wall and strode toward me. Three steps and he was once again too close for comfort.

“So what do ya say, princess? Ready to make a deal?”

A deal. I could make a deal. Holy crap, am I really considering this? Yes. Yes, I was.

“Give me your terms, then.”

Con grinned. “You agree to be where I say, when I say, for the next… let’s say… six weeks.”

“Six weeks?” My voice pitched higher with surprise.

“You think I can melt the ice queen faster than that?”

I glared at his use of my least favorite nickname. “I can’t do six weeks. I need the deed before the demolition.”

“One month,” he offered.

“Three weeks,” I countered.

“Done.” The word was a decree, but I wasn’t satisfied yet.

“What if you don’t feel like you got your ‘fair shot’ with me? Would you back out and leave me hanging?”

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me. And actually give me that shot.”

I arched a brow. “Trust you? You want me to put my entire career on the line, and your only reassurance is ‘trust me’?”

“It’s called a leap of faith, princess. Besides, you got any better alternatives?”

I didn’t—and he knew it.

I inhaled a shallow breath and asked, “What about sex? Because if you think that’s a given, you’ve got another thing coming.”

His lazy grin was pure sin. “Sweetheart, if I can’t get you in my bed in three weeks, I don’t deserve to call myself a man. And when I get you there, it won’t have jack shit to do with that deed.”

Heat streaked up my body, licking at my chest and neck. I was getting in way over my head. He was too confident. But what other choice did I really have?

I held out my hand, pleased to see it wasn’t shaking. “It’s a deal.”

Con came toward me slowly, and took my hand but didn’t shake it like I’d anticipated. Instead, he backed me into the corner one more time.

“This ain’t the kind of deal you seal with a handshake.”

Shock prevented my protest from forming, because the only thing I could focus on was Con’s mouth descending on mine. His big hands cradled my jaw and angled my head. His lips were hot as they took mine, his tongue delving inside. It wasn’t a polite kiss. It was a show of dominance. Memories of that night rushed back, and goose bumps prickled along my skin. By the time Con lifted his head, we’d sealed the deal so well I was going to need to change my panties.

I made my way back to the table, legs shaking and mind racing with what I’d just done. With what I’d just agreed to do. I was dating Con Leahy in secret… Sweet baby Jesus.

Before I’d left the coatroom, hopefully a discreet few minutes before he did, Con had programmed his number into my phone and texted himself. Given that our schedules were both relatively flexible, he’d said he would text me the time and location of our first rendezvous.

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