Dangerous Rock (Dangerous Noise 3)

Her eyes go wide. "That's huge."

I have to chuckle.

"I mean. You were, ahem, also, when we… and, uh… that's a massive tattoo." She's as red as a tomato. "Does it hurt?"

I shake my head.

She reaches for my skin. "Can I?"

"Yeah."

Her fingertips graze my skin. The softness of her touch sends desire to every inch of my body.

But there's affection in it too.

She does care about me.

Even if she doesn't remember.

She looks up at me. Her lips curl into the world's tiniest smile.

Damn, even with the sting of her forgetting, that smile does things to me.

My fingers curl around her wrist. My voice is more desperate than I want it to be. "If you keep touching me like that, I'm going to throw you on the bed and make you come."

Somehow, she gets even more red. "Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be."

She pulls her hand back to her lap, but her gaze stays on my hip.

I leave my jeans half undone. "My lawyer isn't in the office for a while. It will be a week before we can get an appointment."

"Oh."

"I'm sure he'd get it done faster if I asked, but the guy's on vacation, and it's almost Christmas—"

"I don't want to be another asshole client." She swallows hard. "I can wait."

"The paparazzi stuff will blow over soon. You're welcome to stay in this suite until it does." I study her expression. This is what she wants. I just have to frame it right. "Or I can send you back to New York, first class."

Dread creeps into her expression. "I don't know about that…"

She didn't say much about her life, but I got the sense that she's not really happy with her family. Even if all I know about them is that they live in Manhattan.

She doesn’t want to be there.

She doesn't want to be here.

I'm not sure she wants to spend the week with me. But, hey, she does like me. Deep down, a part of her wants this.

"We have a week. Come to Los Angeles with me. We can have fun while we wait."

"Fun or fun?"

I keep my voice playful. "That's up to you."

"Will there be paparazzi?"