Page 12 of Fast & Reckless
Now her mind ran wild as she fantasized about running her palms along that jawline to feel the dark stubble dusting it, or tracing those abs to see if they felt as taut as they looked. And maybe sliding a hand under the waistband of those boxer briefs to see if that bulge felt as big and hard as promised.
“What the hell are you doing here at this hour?” Even his fresh-out-of-bed growl was hot.
She dragged her eyes back up to his and her mind back out of the gutter. She had to get him dressed and into thecar.Definitelydressed. That part was imperative. “Press event? In London? Violet was sure you’d still be sleeping. I said, ‘Absolutely not! Will knows how important this press event is! I’m sure he’ll be on time and ready.’ ” She raised her eyebrows to emphasize her displeasure.
His head dropped back, and he groaned. “Fuuuuuuuuuck. Okay, what’s the address?”
“Uh-uh. No way am I leaving you, Sleeping Beauty. You’ll never show up on time. Now get dressed and let’s go.”
“But—”
“Go.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but then gave up, turning and stalking away from the door, leaving it gaping open in what she could only assume was an invitation to come in. He was already headed down the hallway and a moment later, she heard the house’s old pipes bang as he started the shower. When she rounded the corner into the living room, she was confronted with a blinding explosion of pink and floral, from the ruffled curtains to the tufted sofa. Crocheted doilies and china figurines of cats covered every flat surface.
“Nice place,” she shouted.
From down the hall, she heard a door crack open. “It’s not mine,” he yelled over the sound of the water. “It was the only furnished house to let in this backwater.”
“It suits you,” she yelled back.
She heard him grumble an oath before the door slammed shut. Suppressing a smile, she turned in the direction she guessed the kitchen was. It looked mostly unused, but there were two wineglasses, both still half-filled, on the counter. Two? She took a step closer and the mystery was solved when the toe of her shoe snagged on a lacy pink bra that had been discarded on the floor.
Nice. Very on-brand, Will.
Whatever he got up to after-hours was his own business, she supposed. Although she was battling a totally inappropriate flash of envy for last night’s faceless hookup.Somebodyhad gotten to indulge in all those fantasies she’d just been entertaining. Whoever she was, at least she was already gone.Thatwould have been awkward.
He didn’t have any real food in his kitchen, but she did find a Keurig, so she made a cup of coffee and dumped it into a travel mug (pink and floral, from the gift shop at Historic Melford Hall). Ten minutes later, he appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, freshly shaved and dressed in a thin black wool pullover and dark jeans. His hair was wet, but with one rake of his fingers through the thick dark waves, it arranged itself into a perfectly artful mess. Rude.
“Seriously? Ten minutes in the shower and you look like that? It isn’t fair.”
He grinned broadly. “Are you flirting with me, Mira? I thought we decided to keep things between us professional.”
“Doesn’t seem like you need me as an outlet for your charm.” She pointed at the bra in the corner, where she’d kicked it.
He had the grace to look mildly embarrassed. “She was just—wait, did you just call me charming?” He leaned against the counter and a smug smile tugged at his lips.
“Nope. Turn it off,” she said sharply. “Take your coffee and let’s go.”
He looked from the pink travel mug to her. “Am I supposed to drink out of that?”
“If you don’t, I will,” she said, shoving it into his chest anyway. “Now, come on. Violet’s probably about to strangle you.”
When they reached the car, Violet had already moved to the front seat with the driver, leaving the back for her and Will.
“Nice of you to join us, Will,” Violet muttered as Mira and Will slid into the back seat. “Are we all set? Yes? Fine, wake me when we get there.”
For several minutes, they sat in silence as the car rolled through the bare winter countryside. Mist hung low on rolling hills. Even after so much time away, it still felt comforting and familiar. Mira pulled her eyes away from the view to check in on Will, who was looking at her. The moment their eyes met, he looked away and took a sip out of the pink travel mug.
“What’s your deal, Miranda Wentworth?” Will asked abruptly. “It’s been weeks and I’m realizing I don’t really know anything about you.”
“No deal,” she said, schooling her face into its best professional mask. “I’m every bit as boring as I seem.”
He shook his head. “Nope. You grew up in Formula One. That’s not boring.”
“Only partly,” she corrected. “My mother lives in Los Angeles. I also grew up there.”
“Obviously.”
