Hudson smirked. “Not sure I believe that.”
Before Tyler could get off a retort, his phone buzzed again. This time when he looked at it, though, he got a look on his face that she knew from years of observing him meant a whole lot of trouble for someone else.
“I hate to do this, but I have to go. Just had a little break on something I’ve been working on for years.” He pocketed the phone and started to leave, but then turned back to Felicia as if he’d remembered a dinner casserole was in the oven. “Hey, I have tickets for the Dixon Library masked ball fundraiser tomorrow. I know it’s short notice for a date, but would you like to go with me?”
“Sure,” she said on autopilot, years of training for one goal had that effect on people. However, the excitement she would have felt a few weeks ago because of the invitation never appeared. “That sounds like fun.”
“Great! I’ll text later to work out the details.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and nodded at Hudson. “See ya, Carlyle.”
Tyler hustled out of the penthouse, stopping only long enough to say what she figured was a thank you to Helene on his way out the door. Watching him go barely made a blip on her emotional radar. But even a sideways glance at Hudson made her heart speed up. God, she’d been so obsessed with her preconceived notions that she’d missed a six-foot-tall variable who was always asking about her underwear. What had he told her about the danger of assumptions? Yeah, she’d definitely made an ass out of herself when it came to Hudson.
God, what was her deal with wanting unobtainable men? Unless… She turned back to Hudson, taking in his uncharacteristic glower aimed squarely at Tyler’s retreating back. It didn’t take someone with years of observation experience to realize that Tyler wasn’t on Hudson’s list of favorite people. The past problems with Sawyer seemed to have disappeared so the only reason she could think of for Hudson to be glaring at Tyler was because of her. It was a biased hypothesis, but it made sense. The question was, how to test it?
“Congratulations,” he said, turning his body to her but never quite looking at her. “Looks like you’re finally going to get to cross that whole date Tyler thing off your to-do list.”
“I think I’ll wear the black dress. Your favorite from the museum fundraiser,” she teased, wanting to gauge his reaction. “Or you could come with me tomorrow to pick something out. I’m sure you probably feel like you’ve spent enough time with me already…”
She let the opening for him to shut her down dangle in the air, her heart pounding against her ribs in anticipation and hope. Finally, he dropped his incendiary
gaze to hers, and her breath caught in her lungs.
“Yes.” The single word came out almost like a growl.
A flush of desire rushed up her body with enough heat to make her want to fan herself. He wanted her, that much was obvious, but did he want her like she was realizing she wanted him? “So you don’t mind taking me shopping for another man?”
The idea of doing the same for him made her blood pressure skyrocket. Jealousy was a bitch that way.
“Why should I?” The same primal possessiveness from the other night flashed in his eyes, revealing the lie of his words—and he was lying there was no doubt about it. All those lessons hadn’t been just lessons for him, either. “Remember, I’m Henry Higgins at your service.”
Giving in to the urge to push him a little farther to see if he’d reveal the truth, she pressed her hand to his solid chest and rose up on her tiptoes so she could whisper in his ear. “Thank you.”
Heat blazed in his eyes, but he didn’t make a move. Stubborn man.
Knowing she had to go now or make a fool of herself in his mom’s penthouse, she dropped back, her lips tingling as if she’d actually kissed him. She sucked in a deep breath and gave him a shaky smile before following Tyler’s lead and, after offering her good-byes to Helene, strolled out of the penthouse, adding an extra little bit of sway to her hips.
He wanted her. He wanted her a lot. And she was betting he wanted her for more than just a quick fuck; otherwise, he wouldn’t look like he was ready to tear Tyler limb from limb. Right? Every good scientist knew when it was time to test out a new hypothesis and Felicia was very, very good at her job. She had the tools, thanks to Hudson’s lessons, and now she was going to use them on him. It was time to become a honeypot of the non-ant variety.
She pressed the down button for the elevator and tried not to remember Hudson’s words that she wasn’t his type, because she was. The past month had shown that. Now all she had to do was get him to realize it like she had. “Just you wait, Henry Higgins, just you wait.”
Chapter Seventeen
The dressing rooms on the private shopper floor of Dylan’s Department Store were plush. Thick carpeting. Solid doors. Full-length mirrors showing off three angles. Felicia felt way out of her comfort zone the next day, and that was before she stepped into the black, floor-length jersey gown with a low-cut back covered only by a few, barely-there crisscrossed straps. Once she was in it, and wearing the borrowed heels from the shoe department so she didn’t trip over the hem, she took one last look in the mirror as she smoothed the clingy material over her hips.
“Flirt. Tease. Draw it out,” she said, repeating the mantra she’d distilled Hudson’s advice down to. “You can do this.”
World’s lamest pep talk complete, she stood as tall as possible—never discount the power of an extra inch—and tried to strut in too-tall heels out to where Hudson sat in a trio of chairs directly outside the dressing room. Instead of looking out of place in the dainty chairs, they only emphasized his size and made him look like lord of the manor. It was enough to make a girl’s knees weak and other parts of her soft and wet.
“So, what do you think?”
He looked up from his phone, and his jaw tightened.
Good sign? Bad sign? No sign? Time to add in another variable into this experiment in seduction. “I know it’s a little conservative from the front.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Conservative?”
“But then you see the back.” She turned around, which meant she couldn’t see his face, but she didn’t need to in order to feel his gaze. It burned against her skin and yet he didn’t make a move, didn’t say a word. The butterflies were rioting inside her and her nipples were pointed peaks brushing against the soft jersey of the dress. This is what he did to her without even trying. It wasn’t fair. Time to use his own logic against him. After all, he was the one who said you always want what you can’t have. “I can just imagine how Tyler’s hand will feel pressed up against the bare skin of my back as we dance.”
“I’m not sure I can,” he said, each word clipped short.