Page 60 of Token

“Nothing. Nothing that matters.” Aurora would say Aidan had been hurt and was lashing out. Her sister would say someone should slap him upside his head.

Nate’s mouth tightened a fraction. “Okay, how about this. I want to talk to you alone tonight. Just us. Can we stop by my apartment before I take you home?”

Kennedy stared at him, not knowing quite what to say. “Talk about what?”

“How we’re going to handle your ex-boyfriends in the future. It’s clear we’ll be tripping over them every time we go out.” He said it all with a straight face. Then his mouth eased into a smile. “Plus, I have a French press at home, and I know how you love your caramel macchiato frappes.”

Her heart shouldn’t palpitate at those words, but it did. She couldn’t believe that, after all these years, he remembered.

“I have a French press at home too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But I bet you’re out of caramel.”

Kennedy bit back a gasp. Either he was a master psychic, or he’d recently broken into her apartment.

Nate let out a laugh. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“I’m checking my surveillance video when I get home tonight,” she joked.

“As in, when I take you home after we stop by for a drink at my place?” he asked, his tone one part hopeful and two parts persuasive.

Damn, the man knew how to wear a woman down. “All right, one drink,” Kennedy relented. Later she would blame it on her obvious state of inebriation (she had to be drunk—what else could explain why she would agree to be alone with him in his apartment?) and that thing he’d done to her libido when she’d realized the column of his throat was just as sexy as his abs.

Seriously, though, one caramel macchiato frappe wouldn’t hurt, would it?

16

What on earth was I thinking?

Kennedy could only marvel at the sheer depths of her stupidity. Agreeing to go to Nate’s apartment alone wasn’t just a bad idea, it rivaled the decision hapless college students made in those cheesy horror movies to go into the woods at night instead of toward the running car. Or was she getting that mixed up with an insurance commercial? Whichever, they were one and the same when it came to truly stupid decisions.

Why hadn’t she taken her butt straight home tonight?

“You know we could have had this conversation in the limo,” she remarked as he turned on the lights in the hall.

Nate’s two-story penthouse apartment was equally as luxurious as his sister’s place but double the size.

“So you said in the car,” he replied, his voice dry. “But that wasn’t our agreement. Anyway, I think we’ll be more comfortable here.” He gestured toward the living room that looked like something out of a lifestyle magazine. “I don’t think you’ve been to my place before.” His gaze turned speculative. “Unless Aurora brought you here while I was gone?”

Kennedy shook her head and looked around. Aurora’s description of the place more than lived up to her expectations. Strangely, however, it had a single-family-home feel to it if you didn’t look out any of the windows, of which there were too many for her to count in the initial sweep of her gaze. The woodwork was a carpenter’s dream, the staircase leading to the second floor like nothing she’d ever seen before in anything classified as an apartment.

“So it’s empty while you’re in France?” Kennedy stepped out of her heels with a contented moan. And just like that, his height advantage increased by three inches. The sandals might look great on, but they were definitely not made for walking. Or standing too long either.

“Someone comes in twice a month to dust. And unless you tell me otherwise, my sister picks up the mail once a week.”

“Every Saturday by noon, come hell or high water,” Kennedy confirmed. She fell in step beside him as they entered the two-story living room that had skyscrapers for windows.

Nate motioned to the two oversized couches surrounding a beautiful stone fireplace. “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want whipped cream with your sugar-and-caffeine monstrosity?”

Kennedy smiled in amusement as she padded across the wood floors and a plush area rug to the couch opposite a giant flat-screen television mounted on the wall. “No, that would be sugar overload.” The caffeine would do her good for her ride home. Nothing like falling asleep and having the driver shake her awake when they arrived at her apartment. “Oh, and just because I’m teetotaling it right now, it doesn’t mean you have to. Feel free to have a real drink.”

On his way to the kitchen, Nate turned back to her once he reached the island and shrugged out of his jacket. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he teased.

“Very funny,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

The striptease didn’t stop at his jacket. He proceeded to take off his tie, and then unbutton the first two buttons of his pristine white shirt. Kennedy thought she was handling herself just fine until he removed his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves, exposing a pair of sexy-as-sin forearms. That was when the apartment became unbearably hot and her mouth went dry, making it almost impossible to swallow.

“...for dessert?”

---