What If I Never (Necklace Trilogy 1)

“Allie works for the world-class auction house Riptide in New York,” Dash adds, saying what Tyler has not. “We won’t have her for long, but I have a feeling she’ll leave a lasting impression.”

I’m instantly unsure how to take the comment. Is he complimenting me or reminding me that I don’t belong here?

My eyes meet his again, and that punch is still there, but there is something else, something I cannot read, nor do I have time to contemplate. Susie answers with, “I have a few items from movie sets I can donate. Do you have a card, Allison?”

“I do,” I say, reaching in my purse and handing her a Riptide card. “You can email, text, or call. And thank you for any donations.”

“Of course,” she replies. “Anything for Dash.” She turns to face him. “Let’s talk about your next project. The one you can do with me.”

Dash holds up his hands and says, “Let me get through the one I’m writing now first. Call Bella. She knows more than I know, or so she thinks.”

“She’s always been the brains in your operation,” Tyler says dryly.

“There’s a reason why she’s my agent,” Dash replies, a lift to his lips that isn’t quite a smile nor is it a smirk.

The two men stare at each other, a crackle in the air between them, that’s hard to miss, as if they’ve spoken beyond the obvious words, and nothing pleasant.

Susie though, appearing oblivious to this interaction, be it by choice or ignorance, quickly chimes in with, “We all know who has the creativity in the group,” Susie interjects, “and it’s not me.” She eyes Dash again. “That’s why I need to partner with people like you.”

Tyler’s lips thin. “I need to check on the guest of honor,” he says, glancing down at me with a piercing stare as he adds, “Meet people, Ms. Wright, and remember what we talked about.” With that command, and the reminder that I work for him, not Dash, he fades out of the circle.

Dash arches a brow at me.

And for reasons I can’t explain I react defensively, my arms folding in front of me.

“Why don’t you, me, and Bella have lunch?” Susie asks Dash, unconcerned about Tyler’s absence.

Dash is saved a reply as a good-looking man with sandy brown hair joins our little circle. Susie lights up at his appearance. “The best stuntman in the business,” she says. “Good to see you, Joe.”

Dash uses Joe’s presence as an opportunity to step closer to me, catching my elbow heat igniting with the touch. “Why don’t we go outside and talk?” he asks softly, urging me to walk with him.

And I do because frankly, I’m unable to think clearly when he’s touching me. Really truly, I’m quite angry with him and me, that he can snub me and still impact me this much, this easily. Which is exactly why, the minute we step outside and he pulls me into a corner of the patio rather than melding us with the crowd, I round on him with demand. “Why are you even here? You and Tyler clearly don’t like each other.”

“For you, Allie,” he answers softly, his voice butter soft and silky, but I refused to be seduced. “I came for you.”

My chin lifts in defiance. “Because you wanted to tell me to go home again?”

“I’m not going to tell you to go home again.” His hand not so discreetly settles at my waist, a hot branding that weakens my knees. “I think we can make this auction successful together.”

“But you said—”

“And I was wrong,” he admits, the confession taking me off guard. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I know that, too,” he says. “If I made it seem as if that wasn’t the case, I’m sorry.”

My lips part in surprise and for good reason. A second apology drives home sincerity. And most men, or rather, the men I know who are as powerful as Dash Black, never apologize, at least not and mean it. Further unraveling my resistance to his charms this night, he adds, “But I also can’t seem to help myself.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I reply, breathless and I’m not sure why aside from the fact that he affects me in ways no other man ever has. And I barely know him.

“I don’t either,” he says, and it feels like a confession, that only adds to my confusion. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“There you are, Dash. I swear I need a drink and a friendly audience.”

At the sound of Bella’s voice, Dash’s hand falls away, but not before he promises, “We’ll talk later.”

There’s an implication in those words, that “later” means, much later, when we’re alone, or at least I think there is. I’m not sure of anything ever with this man. I’m not even sure I’m over being angry with him and I’m pretty sure I should run from him.