Going Down Fast (Billionaire Bad Boys 2)

“Yes.” She understood his pointed correction. Alex wouldn’t want any more of a connection to Ian than Ian did to Alex.

“You have your father’s eyes,” she couldn’t help but note.

His expression changed, going from warm to cold in an instant. “I hope that’s the only thing you think that bastard and I have in common.”

Riley raised her eyebrows at the bitter tone. Okay, she understood he had his reasons, but she was a stranger.

Ian shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling beneath his tailored, dark suit. “What can I say? Only a bastard would live two separate lives with two separate families at the same time.”

“You do lay it out there,” she murmured.

His eyes glittered like silver ice. “It’s not like everyone here doesn’t know it.”

Though she ought to change the subject, he’d been open, so she decided to ask what was on her mind. “If you’re still so angry with him, why come for his birthday?”

“Because my sisters asked me to,” he said, his tone turning warm and indulgent.

A hint of an easier expression changed his face from hard and unyielding to devastatingly sexy once more.

“Avery and Olivia are much more forgiving than me,” he explained.

She smiled at his obvious affection for his siblings. As an only child, she envied them a caring, older brother. At least she’d had Alex, she thought and glanced around looking for the man who’d brought her here. She found him on the dance floor, still with his mother, and relaxed.

“Back to introductions,” Ian said. “You know my name; now it’s your turn.”

“Riley Taylor.”

“Alex’s girlfriend,” he said with disappointment. “I saw you two walk in.”

That’s what he thought? “No, we’re friends. More like brother and sister than anything else.”

His eyes lit up, and she caught a glimpse of yet another expression—pleasantly surprised. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all night,” he said in a deep, compelling tone, his hot gaze never leaving hers.

At a loss for words, Riley remained silent.

“So, Ms. Riley Taylor, where were you off to in such a hurry?” he asked.

“I wanted to rest my feet,” she admitted.

He glanced down at her legs, taking in her red pumps. “Ahh. Well, I have just the place.”

Before she could argue—and if she’d realized he’d planned to drag her off alone, she might have—Ian grasped her arm and guided her to the exit at the far side of the room.

“Ian—”

“Shh. You’ll thank me later. I promise.” He pushed open the door, and they stepped out onto a deck that wasn’t in use this evening.

Sticky, night air surrounded them, but being a Floridian, she was used to it, and obviously so was he. His arm still cupping her elbow, he led her to a small love seat and gestured for her to sit.

She sensed he was a man who often got his way, and though she’d never found that trait attractive before, on him, it worked. She settled into the soft cushions. He did the same, leaving no space between them, and she liked the feel of his hard body aligned with hers. Her heart beat hard in her chest, excitement and arousal pounding away inside her.

Around them, it was dark, the only light coming from sconces on the nearby building.

“Put your feet up.” He pointed to the table in front of them.

“Bossy,” she murmured.

Ian grinned. He was and was damned proud of it. “You’re the one who said your feet hurt,” he reminded her.