She glanced at me shyly. “At Alrik’s…you refused the drinks he offered.”
She’d noticed that? Huh. What else did she notice? “That’s because I refuse to endure social niceties with a jackass.”
Her shoulders tensed, her mind going where I didn’t want it to go.
Touching the delicate skin of her wrist, I murmured, “A dead jackass. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
She gave me a sharp smile, changing subjects. “You don’t drink on the Phantom.”
“Because I have a better alternative.”
“Weed?”
“That and other things.”
“Your cello.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes lit up, narrowing in calculation. “You told me that first night that you have many laws ruling your life.” She sat straighter as if she’d been building up to asking me this. “What are they?”
I sighed, taking another gulp of my drink.
The tequila didn’t sit well, but I took another gulp anyway.
This was my fault. I’d answered her previous questions, which gave her the illusion that I’d answer more. I’d told her about my family. She’d witnessed how much my own mother hated me. She already knew countless things about me. So much more than I knew about her.
Our understanding of one another was lopsided.
It couldn’t be allowed to continue.
Pushing my drink away, I crossed my arms. “No more.”
“No more?” She tilted her head. “No more what?”
“Answers.”
“But—”
“No more until you answer some of mine.”
She eyed me, worry creeping over her features. “Answers to what?”
“To everything.”
I had an encyclopaedia of things I wanted to know; questions I was desperate to ask. But first, she had to understand that just because I chose to be a gentleman and not enforce our prior agreement, she still had to pay me in other ways, not just her secrets.
The bartender had left his post to talk to an elderly woman by the window. Behind the counter in regimented racks and blue lit displays were oxidised black metal spoons, pressed napkins, and cocktail stirrers emblazoned with the hotel emblem.
Hotel property but with no value attached. Things guests used and pinched without a second thought.
Let’s see what Pim does…
I smiled. “Before we talk, you’re going to do something for me.”
“I am?”
“You are.” Pointing at the display with my chin, I said, “Steal me a spoon.”
Her eyebrows shot up, highlighting how flawless her skin was, how she didn’t need makeup to make her green eyes pop or hours with a hairdresser to ensure her hair tempted me constantly. “Excuse me?”
“Remember our agreement? You’d steal things for me?”
“I remember you saying such things. But I don’t ever remember agreeing to them.”
I smiled. “Oh, you agreed to them by indulging me. Besides, did you think your silence prevented your eyes from answering me? You’re forgetting I can read you, Pim, just like I’m guessing you can read me.”
She pursed her lips, neither confirming nor denying my belief that she was a master at understanding body language.
“Besides, you’ve already stolen a few things on my behalf. That makes you a thief.” I leaned closer, keeping this conversation strictly between us and not the diamond glittery gentry around us. “And a thief needs practice.”
The scent of her skin shot up my nose, grabbing me around the cock. I swallowed my groan as she shifted closer, her neck lengthening into a swan curve, begging me to bite.
“I have that one hundred dollar bill you turned into a house. Can I give you that?” Her voice wavered, soft with mirroring desire. “Surely, that’s worth more than a stupid spoon.”
My heart raced as she shifted closer.
Her knee against my knee.
Her body heat against my body heat.
I forced myself to stay still even though my vision turned hazy and all I could focus on was her. Her smell. Her voice. Her temptation.
“I don’t want money. I have plenty of money.”
She inhaled sharply, a slight shudder working down her spine. “What do you want then?”
Fuck, that was a loaded question.
And one without a simple answer.
“If I told you what I truly wanted, you’d run out of this place so fast I wouldn’t be able to catch you.”
She pulled back, eyes locking onto eyes. She licked her lips, and I fought every fucking instinct to kiss her. I knew she’d taste of tequila and orange juice. I knew she’d be warm. I knew she’d kiss me back.
Christ, this is harder than I thought.
Straightening, I swiped my drink and finished it in two long pulls. “What I want, Pim, is for you to steal me a spoon.”
She shuddered as the heat between us sputtered out thanks to my avoidance of everything we danced around. “A spoon?”
I rubbed my mouth with the back of my hand, enjoying this game because it put me back in power while stripping her of hers. “Yes. Specifically, a black spoon from behind the bar.”
“But you have countless spoons on the Phantom.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” Her growing belligerence made me hide a smirk that she felt secure enough to show attitude and annoyed because it made me even harder for her.