Page 31 of Power
“I can buy you a new outfit.”
“What, are you rich?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He tensed underneath me, his fingers freezing in my hair. Shit. I’d clearly hit a nerve. Now that I thought about it, the signs were everywhere: the luxury hotel suite, the casual offer to buy clothes. Whatever he did for work, he was successful enough tostay downtown instead of commuting to the suburbs. But why was money such a sore spot? Most men would flaunt their wealth.
“I just mean buying clothes instead of picking them up seems excessive,” I backpedaled, but his silence spoke volumes. I propped myself up to look at him. “You know, one of the beauties of this being no strings attached is that I don’t have to overanalyze everything I say. I clearly hit a nerve, but I have no idea why.”
His muscles softened slightly.
“Want to tell me why money is such a touchy subject?” I challenged.
“Want to tell me why you don’t do relationships, Trouble?”
“Nope.” I popped thePwith extra emphasis. “What I do want is breakfast. And since you’re weird about money, I’ll buy.”
He smirked, and I couldn’t help noticing how his abs clenched as he shifted.
Poor guy. Maybe he was one of those men who wanted to appear wealthy, but was actually buried in debt up to his eyeballs and couldn’t afford anything beyond the appearance of riches. In other words, he was actually broke. That had to be why he was so sensitive to the money question.
“What if we did tell each other everything?” he mused, propping himself on his side. “It could be interesting, sharing things with someone we’ll never see again. This no-strings situation might bring out honesty we wouldn’t share with anyone else.”
I cocked my head. “Why do I get the feeling you have an agenda behind that statement?” That damn smirk again. “Look, we can decide what we share as we go, but here’s the new rule number one, which bumps all others down the list. Don’t fall for me, and I won’t fall for you. Got it?”
“That’s an incredibly important boundary of yours.”
“Iron-clad. Do you agree to the terms or not?”
“You’re an excellent negotiator, Scarlett?—”
“No last names.”
Though that was silly, wasn’t it? My last name wasn’t what Iwas trying to protect. It was my feelings. And my spectacularly messy life.
“Now, come on.” I hopped up, trying not to feel smug about how his eyes tracked my naked form. “Breakfast. On me. Then we’re going on an errand.”
“An errand?” He groaned, running a hand through his already-mussed hair. “This is supposed to be a fun weekend.”
“It’s a fun errand.”
“Those two words don’t belong in the same sentence.”
“Okay, think of it more like a field trip. We’ll have an hour drive to get there.”
“Anhour?” The look of horror on his face was almost comical.
“It’s a beautiful day,” I said, snapping open the curtains and gesturing at the cloudless sky. “We could use some fresh air.”
He studied me for a long moment before sighing. “Fine. But we’re taking my bike.”
I blinked. “You have a motorcycle?”
“You find that strange?” There was that amused half smile again.
“You don’t look like the motorcycle type.”You look like theluxury car with a drivertype. But maybe your car got repossessed, and you bought a motorcycle in its place.
“Helps clear my head.” He crossed the room to me, planting a kiss on my temple that I absolutely refused to swoon over. “Besides, like you said, it’s a beautiful day for a drive. And I get to feel your arms around my waist the whole time.”
Something warm fluttered in my chest.Dangerous territory, Scarlett.
