Burned Deep (Burned 1) - Page 67
Sure enough, the pity me facade she’d flaunted faded and I saw nothing but triumph. Which not only worried me but also made the tears trickle as she whirled around and disappeared out the door without so much as a thank-you or a good-bye.
Dread mixed with my dismay. The way she’d breezed out of here. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was just the beginning of her torment.
* * *
I survived the weekend. That was the best summation I could provide.
Unfortunately, I’d spent two nights restlessly missing Dane and once again wondering if he was spending his nights alone.
He didn’t call or text, and I had a very good sense of what that was all about. He was forcing my hand. It was a commit along with me or walk away kind of thing, I suspected. Which made me put serious thought into what I might actually be committing to and how fucked up I could be in the end.
The reality of the situation, however, was that every torturous minute that passed without him proved I’d be screwed either way. I couldn’t stand not being with him. Especially knowing what he was willing to give in return by way of the hottest sex I’d ever known.
Thankfully, I had a ton of work on Monday that required my full attention. I met with Patricia to discuss all of the event staff applications Dane had approved for the posted positions.
We were in the middle of discussing interviewing schedules when I caught sight of him. He strutted toward us as we sat at one of the round glass-topped and black wrought-iron tables in the courtyard. His purposeful stride gave me pause.
Patricia noticed she’d lost me and stopped mid-sentence. Dane reached us and he politely asked if she’d mind giving us a few minutes alone.
I gnawed my lower lip in consternation.
“Certainly, Mr. Bax. I’m due for a refill, anyway.” She lifted her cappuccino mug from the table and gestured toward mine. “Ready for another?”
“No, thanks,” I said. “I’m good.” I didn’t need anything else making me jittery. Dane’s stern expression did that all on its own. Not to mention, he looked hotter than hell in a dark-gray suit with a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck to reveal that pulsating spot at the base of his throat I wanted to press my lips to—and the strong angles of his collarbone that I wanted to run my tongue along.
My fingers twitched. If I could just unbutton the rest of the shirt flap and splay my hands over his hard pecs, the way I’d done Friday night …
Sliding into the chair across from me, he set a slim black leather folio on the glass and pushed it my way. “Did you really think you were going to slip this by me?”
The challenge
in his voice was tinged with displeasure.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
His brow jerked.
Had he somehow found out my mother’s devious plot—and that I’d attempted to pay her off with a measly five grand? Measly by her and Dane’s standards, because it was a hell of a lot of money to me.
I tried to breathe. How could he possibly have learned of that? And why would he care, anyway?
I flipped open the folder and stared at the piece of paper inside.
Kyle’s résumé.
Oh, boy. This might be worse.
“He’s really very talented,” I said in Kyle’s—and my—defense. “I’ve seen his portfolio. When we were at the Delfinos’ house. He showed me the Web version on his phone.”
“He’s not working here, Ari.” Dane’s tone was flat and decisive. “You think I don’t know his intentions?”
“Dane. I told him to apply. It wasn’t even his idea. It was mine.”
Dane stared at me as though I’d grown a third eye. “Are you kidding me?”
“No.” I braced myself for his angst. “It’s not a big deal. He and I are not … anything. Just friends, like I keep saying. So it’d be okay. And, let’s face it, you need people who are gifted and trustworthy.”
Sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his massive chest, he speared me with a firm look. “How am I supposed to consider him trustworthy when every time I turn my back he’s coming on to you? What makes you think I’ll tolerate that after the arrangement we made?”
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