“You seem tired,” he says, reminding me that I probably look like a bag of shit. I’m once again bothered by it, and my hand goes to my hair and tucks my black waves behind my ears.
“A ten-hour shift will do that,” I murmur to the window, keeping to my plan, not looking at him and staying way on the other side of the back seat so there’s no risk of touching him, either. It’s a good plan, but for it to work, Theo needs to abide by the rules, too. Except I haven’t told him the rules.
I feel something brush lightly across the side of my thigh. My body temperature starts to climb, and I whip my leg away. “Tired but still stunning.” Another brush of my leg.
Oh my goodness, I wish he would stop. I mentally calculate how many more minutes in this car I need to endure with him before I’m home. Seven, if the traffic is good. It’s gone ten at night. I should be safe. He’s pulling no punches now. It’s frightening, but beneath the steel front I’m working hard to keep in place, I’m relieved and delighted that he’s giving me a little peek into his mind. I was attracted to him the moment I looked at him. I didn’t want to be. I picked him to pieces, weighed up the hulk of a man before me and concluded he was bad, bad news, but it didn’t even dent the allure, no matter how much I willed it to. He’s too magnetic. Too captivating.
It’s frustrating.
It’s exciting.
It’s…I bite my lip and cross one leg over the other, squeezing the pulse away. He feels dangerous yet safe. It’s completely contradictory. He looks dangerous, acts it, and he definitely felt it when he was pressed into my back. My thighs tighten, and I fight to rid my mind of those wayward thoughts. I can’t seem to control my head when he’s close, so I better make damn sure I control my body.
I hear a light laugh—a laugh that’s smooth and laced with knowing. “Tell me,” he says under his breath, “what are you imagining now?”
I’m so glad I’m facing away from him, because it means he can’t see how wide my eyes go. “Actually, I’m imagining my bed and how good it’s going to feel when I sink into the sheets.” It all just comes sailing right on out.
“Sounds good,” he muses.
“It will be.”
“My bed would be comfier.”
My plan and my rules go to shit. I swing to face him. I haven’t seen his bed, and I don’t plan to. Though I expect it’s massive—it’d have to be to accommodate his huge body—and extremely comfy. “I very much doubt it.”
“Then we should test it.” He looks serious, yet there’s a playful edge there.
“Test it?”
“Yes.”
“And how would that work?” I ask.
“You want a diagram?”
“Oh, that’s cute.” I laugh.
He shrugs. “It’ll put the debate to rest.”
I open my mouth to tell him exactly where he can put his debate, but snap it shut again when something comes to me. He’s goading me. This big, powerful man is pressing the buttons of a little nurse girl. For what? Why? “What do you want from me, Theo? Sex?” Being to the point is the only way forward. “Just a good screw?”
“I assure you, I have no shortage there.”
I expect he’s right, and I have no reason for that statement to hurt, but it still stings like a bitch. I bet they’re all dolly birds, too—glamorous and well-dressed. Unlike me, currently stinking of antiseptic and looking like I’m an hour away from being carted off to the morgue.
“Then why?” I counter.
He grabs my jaw, squeezing my cheeks. “What’s your story, Izzy White?”
It clicks. His motives are suddenly too clear, and it hurts like hell. Penny, his showing up out of the blue, all the women in his bed. The fact that I divulged a few too many hints of my dark past. He wants to save me. Like he did Penny. I wrench my face from his grip. I don’t need saving. I fucking saved myself. “Are you on some kind of mercy mission?” I ask, undeniable resentment lacing my question. “A big, scary man out to save all the weak, vulnerable females he stumbles upon?”
He blinks, and for a second I think it might be because I’ve injured his ego. But then I sense anger, his hard face etched with lines of fury. It only fuels my own rage. What does he expect me to do? Fall to my knees in gratitude that he’s bulldozed into my life and waved his sword? Rip my clothes off and offer my body in return for protection?
“You don’t seem very weak and vulnerable to me,” he grates. “But in answer to your question, no. I’m not out to save you. I’m…” He fades off and swallows hard. Reclaiming my jaw, he applies a pressure that’s almost too much. “I’m here because I can’t get this fucking face out of my head. I want you to come to dinner with me.”
I stare at him in stunned silence, now at a loss for words. According to him, only the unwise say no to Theo Kane. But being unwise would be to dip my toe in Theo’s world. Being unwise would be to explore the reactions he evokes from me. Being unwise would be to allow the sense of safety he offers to distract me from my mission to keep myself safe. And what’s he going to do when I say no, anyway? Put that gun to my head? I laugh under my breath. Bring it on. I’ve lived half my life with an imaginary gun held at my temple.
I reach up, intending to yank his hand away from my face, but Theo drops his hold first and shoots back in his seat, as far on the other side of the car as he can get. His eyes are wide, his face tight. “Go,” he orders. “Go before I do something you clearly don’t want me to do.” The car stops at a red light. He looks away.
“Like what?” I know he doesn’t mean he might hurt me. “Kiss me? And what makes you think I would let you?”
“You wouldn’t have a choice, and not because I would force you.” His hands meet the seat in front of him, his fingers clawing into the leather. He’s restraining himself. “Go, Izzy.”
I’m out of the car quickly, my feet hitting the pavement in time with my thumping heart. The bright lights and buzz of London are a mere blur and white noise around me as I hurry down the street toward my apartment, his words whooshing in my ears.
Casting a look over my shoulder, I see his car still sitting at the light, though it’s now green and the sound of impatient horns adds to the fuzz of noise around me. The Bentley eventually starts to crawl along, sticking close to the curb fifty or so feet back. Even his car looks threatening, creeping along behind me. My pace quickens, and I round the corner, seeing my apartment up ahead. The sight offers me no comfort. A quick glimpse over my shoulder tells me Theo’s driver has followed me into my street, still crawling at a snail’s pace, the fiasco of annoyed cars behind not prompting him to put his foot down or pull over. Because Theo will be telling him what to do, and only the unwise say no to Theo Kane.
“Damn you,” I murmur, reaching the steps that lead up to my front door. His Bentley rolls to a stop, but no one gets out. The blacked-out window of the back prevents me from seeing Theo inside, but I know he’s looking at me, probably even more pissed off, and if he continues to stare, I think he might burn a hole through the glass. I look to Callum in the front—no tinted windows there hindering my view—finding him sitting still, hands on the wheel, focused forward.
I reach for the handrail that leads up the stairs to my front door, keeping my eyes on the car as I take backward steps up, waiting for him to get out. But he doesn’t.
The front door opens behind me. “Izzy, what the hell are you doing?” Jess asks, coming down the steps to join me. I flick her a quick look, finding a Mars bar at her lips, her eyes now on the posh Bentley still stationary by the curb. “Who’s that?” she asks.
“Him,” I breathe, feeling all kinds of unstable and unsteady. The car starts to slowly pull away, leaving me and Jess following its path down the road until it takes a corner and disappears. My legs give out, taking my arse down to one of the concrete steps. “Oh my God,” I gasp, shock kicking in.
“Fucking hell.” Jess joins me on the step, her hand coming to my knee. “The guy from the alley? With the mansion? What happened
?”
“He turned up at work. Insisted on bringing me home.”
“Then how come you were walking?” she asks. “I saw you from the kitchen window when I was getting some wine.”
“I got out at the light,” I explain, bringing my hand up to my chest and glancing down the street. “After he told me to go or he’d do something he’d regret.”
She withdraws, uncertain. “What?”
“Not like that,” I rush to explain. “Like kiss me. He wanted to kiss me, and he said I would never be able to stop him. And he didn’t mean because he’s built like a brick shithouse and I am not.”
“Oh, wow,” Jess whispers. “But you said there was nothing.”
I clench my eyes closed and exhale my confession. “I lied.”
“But why?”
“Because I’m scared by it,” I admit with an apologetic smile. Jess isn’t hacked-off like I expect. She looks in shock herself. “He’s dangerous,” I say. “I shouldn’t be attracted to that.” My eyes drop. “But he saved me from that arsehole who…”
Jess’s hand reaches for mine and grips hard. She knows where I was going with that. “Don’t,” she warns. “Don’t give that bastard a second thought.”
I shake my head, frustrated. “I’m trying not to.” I look at her and smile sadly. “Theo would rip him to shreds without a moment’s hesitation or regret. That’s how it should be. A man should protect a woman. Not hurt her. And a woman should feel safe with a man, not afraid. I’m not scared of Theo, Jess. He isn’t dangerous in the sense that I think he would physically hurt me. He’s dangerous because I feel so safe with him.” I’ve never felt safe before. Not truly. I like it. And I don’t want to.
My friend gives me an understanding smile, curling an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into her. “The fact that he’s dangerously handsome, rich, and built like a gladiator helps, too, I suppose.”
“And that,” I agree quietly, resting my head on her shoulder, my mind running away with me. Theo had no intention of getting out of that car and coming after me. He was simply making sure I got home safely.
Chapter 4
There’s someone at the door,” Jess calls from her bedroom, forcing me to vacate my cozy bed. I’d heard the knock but hoped Jess would answer so I could continue to ponder just how comfy my bed is. Very comfy, actually.
“I’ve got it,” I grumble, whipping the sheets back and dragging myself to the edge as I look at the clock. Eight o’clock. Who the hell is banging on the door at this time of the morning? I grab my T-shirt and wrestle it on as I hurry down the corridor to the door, swinging it open to find a young lad in a courier uniform.
“Morning,” he chirps, holding out a small box to me as he ogles my bare legs.
“Morning,” I grunt in return, taking the parcel from his limp grip and helping myself to the clipboard in his other hand. I scribble across the paper and shove it into his chest, backing away and shutting the door on his cheesy smile.
I make my way to the kitchen to fetch coffee, hearing Jess somewhere behind me. “Who was that?” she asks, towel drying her hair.
“Delivery.” I slide the parcel onto the worktop and start making coffees, putting an extra heaped teaspoon of coffee granules in my mug.
“What time you starting?” She flops down into a chair at the table and accepts the cup I hand her.
“Two.” Collecting the box, I join her. “Last shift.” I give her a toothy smile that’s returned, extra toothy. “I need to pack, find my passport, get some dollars.” I start to rip open the package.
“You haven’t done that yet?” she asks incredulously. “Izzy!”
“I’ve been working my arse off,” I argue, not meaning to suggest that Jess hasn’t. I give her an apologetic smile when she gapes at me. “Or I’m just not as organized as you.” I backtrack a little, blindly pulling the box open. The truth is, I needed to wait until today to exchange some money. It’s payday, and I’ve been skint for the past week. I have no excuse for not packing or finding my passport. “Oh, and I need to get a new phone.”
“You do?” Jess’s forehead becomes a sea of lines. “Then what’s that?” She nods down at the box in my hand, and I follow her stare, peeking down at the now unwrapped package. An iPhone box stares back at me, and I lift the lid to find my iPhone. Not a scratch or dent in sight.
“What the hell?” I mumble, turning it over in my hand. “I left it in the alley in a million pieces.” It bleeps loudly, and I jump in my chair, my phone jumping, too, right out of my hand. “Shit.” I fumble to catch it and fail, and it tumbles to the kitchen floor, landing with a crash.
“Oh my God, you’re the clumsiest person I know.” Jess laughs.
I look at the phone on the ground at my feet, facedown. “I didn’t send it to be repaired,” I say, confused. “But here it is, fixed and shiny like new. And it’s turned on, Jess.” My eyes narrow. “And a message came through.”
“Oh,” she breathes, the penny finally dropping. “Him?”
“Who else?” I ask, my mind going off on a tangent, my nervous hands starting to twist the bottom of my T-shirt. But what about last night? He was so mad. And then he had Callum crawl along behind me in his big, flashy car to make sure I got home safely. The man is a big fat contradiction.
Jess’s eyes are bright and excited as she dips and collects the phone from the floor. “The screen is cracked.” She hands it to me across the table while my heart works its way up to a vibration in my chest. My shaky hands accept my iPhone, and she nods, encouraging me to look. I take a long breath and close my eyes, seeing Theo as clear as day in my darkness. His face; his body; his sharp, bristly jaw. I hear his words, threatening but encouraging. I shiver and open the message.
Callum will pick you up at seven this evening. I’m taking you for dinner.
You will be gracious and accept.
My shakes go up a notch, making the phone tremble in my hold, and Jess is beside me in a split second, pulling her chair closer and taking the phone from my trembling hand, replacing it with my coffee. “Okay, let’s talk about this,” she says, resting her forearms on the table, like she’s set for a board meeting. “What’s putting you off?”
“I told you last night.” I neglect to mention that I expect he’s not exactly a law-abiding citizen.
“You’re worried you’ll get attached and it won’t work out?”
I shrug. “Guess so.”
“But wouldn’t it be nice to have sex with a man because you really want to, and not because you simply want to prove to yourself that you can?”
She’s hit the nail on the head. Sex has always been purely a means to prove I’m not scarred for life by the bastard who tormented me. It doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I want it. My dalliances are almost robotic for me, and always without attachment. I’m not ruined. I’m just…a little broken.
Jess stands and pats my shoulder, smiling softly. “Please, Izzy, just do it. He’s obviously into you.” She wanders off, leaving me at the table. “I’ve never seen you in a tangle over a man before. Don’t be afraid of feeling safe. You deserve to be.”
I watch her until she disappears out of the kitchen as I turn the phone in my hand repeatedly, searching for all the reasons why I shouldn’t go to dinner with Theo. They’re nowhere to be found. They’ve abandoned me.
* * *
I wasn’t quite with it for my entire shift, my focus and concentration shot. Susan pulled me aside at the end of the day, concerned I was coming down with something. She insisted on taking my temperature and, of course, it was normal. I told her I was fine, just a little tired after back-to-back hard-core shifts, and she accepted, offering to do handover so I could get away on time and get a good night’s sleep. I was immensely grateful, since I’ve still not packed and have a list as long as my arm of things to do before leaving for Vegas. Including texting Theo back to politely decline his offer. Or demand. Whichever. My phone has been burning a hole in my bag all day.
Her eyes shine like diamonds when I round the corner into her bay. “Here she is,” she singsongs, pushing her palms into the mattress on either side of her waist to push herself up, hissing and spitting.
“Mable, stop moving,” I scold, passing her the control device for the bed. “Use this.”
She takes it from my hand and shoves it back to the bed, ignoring me. Because she has a more important matter on her mind. “So, the hunk who was here yesterday.”
“The fracture isn’t healing, then?” I say, my way of telling her not to go there.
“No, it’s not.” She waves a hand dismissively through the air. “The hunk.”
I screw up my face in defeat. I’ve been looking after this woman for two weeks, and I know her well enough now to know she won’t let this go. She’s a stubborn old bird. “What about him?”
She gives me an impish grin. “You been telling me porky-pies, my love?”
“No.”
“You said there’s no man in your life.”
“There isn’t.”
“Then who was the delicious hunk?”
“Theo.”
She cocks her head, eyeing me suspiciously. “Come on, Izzy. Give an old, crippled lady something.”
“So you want to be crippled now, huh?”
“Tell me.” She pats the mattress.
“I don’t really know him,” I say, ignoring her offer to take a seat on her bed and opting for the chair instead. Besides, it’s against the rules to sit on a patient’s bed.
“You wanna change that?”
“I’m not sure.” Just as I answer, Susan rounds the corner, though I can’t see her face or body, only her curvy legs. Because nearly her entire form is hidden behind a huge bouquet of flowers.
Gentleman Sinner Page 5