Page 71 of Lord of Debauchery

I turned around to face him, offering him the same tight-lipped onceover as he’d given to me.

“Do I look presentable enough?” he asked, the harshness I’d seen earlier gone from his eyes.

“Yes, much better. Almost relaxed.” He had two light jackets with him, both hung over his arm.

“Well, good. I do enjoy meeting your approval.”

“Coats?” I was curious why.

“Where we’re going, they might be needed. Are you ready to go?” He whipped out his dark sunglasses. Wearing them meant I couldn’t stare into his dazzling eyes.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise. Would it?” He backed away, holding out his hand for me to grasp.

I looked at it for a few seconds, trying to calm my nerves. Why did I have the distinct feeling everything had changed between us? It was amazing that the moment our fingers touched, the electricity returned, tickling every nerve ending.

He didn’t hold back, pulling me toward the massive garage on the far end of the property, heading directly for a keypad hidden in plain view. I was surprised he didn’t hide the code used, not even by standing in front of the mechanism. When only one bay garage door opened, the smell of vehicles was instantly apparent.

As I was led inside, I was floored by the sight in front of me. There were at least ten pristine vehicles, several of them on lifts perched high. The concrete floor had been painted a cobalt blue and there were red and black mechanic’s toolboxes lining one of the walls. I shouldn’t be surprised the space felt slightly warm. I could see heating and air conditioning vents in dozens of locations.

The vehicles were all spectacular, several foreign sports cars worth millions of dollars flanked with a couple of trucks and an SUV as well as at least two Mercedes. Every color was primal, which suited the powerful man perfectly.

And right there in the middle was a fabulous shiny Harley. “You own a motorcycle.” He let go of my hand and I felt the loss immediately.

“Not just any motorcycle. The Harley Davidson used in the movie Easy Rider. Well, one of six of them anyway. Lovingly restored.”

I couldn’t help myself, inching closer. It was as if everything I’d told Janie I wanted in a hot alpha male had come true. “Stunning.”

“We’ll take a ride one day. But I don’t like leaving her out in the open.”

“I can understand why. Incredible.” I scanned the garage, shaking my head. “No American muscle cars?” I asked, the moment one of those I would remember for a long time. I adored cars of every type.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. I have another offsite facility that houses several older muscle cars including Pontiac Trans Ams, Camaros, Corvettes, and Mustang GTs, including one Shelby edition. They are my true babies, but I only drive them to keep them in top condition. These are my everyday vehicles.”

“Poor baby, forced to endure such buckets of rust for your everyday travel.”

“Careful there, little miss. I might just turn you over the hood of one of these cars and spank that incredible bottom of yours. It might be sexier over the Harley.”

“You wouldn’t dare. At least not right now.” I turned around to face him, unable to keep from smiling. “You continuously have surprises up that long sleeve of yours.”

“But I’m not wearing any sleeves. Be careful constantly daring me. You should know by now I do so love a challenge.”

I pressed the flexed fingers of one hand against his chest and I shook my head. “Forever the bad boy. You’ll need to show me that other collection one of these days. I do so love sitting behind the wheel of a Trans Am.”

“Maybe. But only if you learn to be a very good girl.” He jerked off his shades briefly, devouring me with his eyes.

They were suddenly dark again, the man looking right through me. Or maybe he was picking me apart. I hated feeling slightly ill at ease around him but that was the way it was for the moment. “Never. You already know that.”

“I do. Sadly, I do.”

Goddamn, the man’s stare was piercing. Swallowing hard, for some reason I felt for my throat, fingering my pulse of life. “So, which of these buckets are we taking today?”

“How about the Mercedes convertible? We can turn on the heat if it gets a little chilly.”

“Oh, luxurious. Sounds lovely.”

With nothing in his hand, he offered no concept of where we were going. I knew better than to ask. After helping me inside, he moved slowly behind the car before climbing in. For some reason, I didn’t think he enjoyed driving himself, but I found out quickly I was oh-so wrong.