Samantha couldn’t quite work up the courage to speak. She began to tremble with nerves, thinking about what to say, and was exasperated with herself for the anxiety.
With it came an unbidden memory, a face from her past. The man in her mind’s eye was old enough to be her grandfather, with salt-and-pepper hair and cold, dark eyes. But he too had been rich, and commanding.
She was her own woman, and wanted to think she was strong enough to live her life the way she wanted, without painful memories overshadowing things. But the truth was, she just didn’t know if she’d wind up hating herself for what she wanted.
“You won’t find any judgment from me, kitten.”
Samantha gaped for a moment. Kitten? He’d called her kitten?
She’d just been insulted. She should have felt insulted.
She didn’t.
“I . . . I’m curious,” she finally admitted, feeling her cheeks flush the same color as the wine she was drinking. “I’ve heard about Devorar and I . . . I thought someone here might have some answers for me.”
“Answers to what questions, Samantha?” As he’d promised, there was no censure in Elijah’s tone. Instead there was heat—enough that Samantha felt herself start to burn as the flush spread from her cheeks through the rest of her body.
But she froze as thoughts of her mother came wending their way into her mind. Another reason she had held herself back from going after what she wanted.
Her mother’s . . . vices . . . had nearly ruined her daughters’ lives. If Samantha weakened, gave up control, was she any better?
“I . . . I think I’d better go.” Closing her eyes against Elijah’s penetrating stare, Samantha pressed her hands to her temples and turned away. It was tempting, so tempting, to give in to what she was quite certain she wanted.
But the memory of her mother’s mistakes was a reminder that giving in to temptation could lead to disastrous results. No matter how much she felt this need, deep in her very core, she shouldn’t have come here.
“Samantha.” Elijah’s voice was firm as Samantha began to walk away. She turned back halfway, not enough to see the gorgeous man again, but enough that she was confronted with her own work of art.
The sensual visual overwhelmed her senses and made her ache.
“Come back anytime.” There was a note of concern in Elijah’s voice that made Samantha hesitate. Not all men were like the ones who’d flitted in and out of her mother’s life. Rationally she knew that.
But this man was gorgeous, wealthy as sin, and likely into some very kinky things, given that he had opened a BDSM club in his resort. That was enough danger to send Samantha running, even as she nodded, acknowledging his offer.
Even though, rather than walk away, she found herself wanting to tangle her fingers in that messy golden hair. Wanting to tilt her head up to receive his kiss.
She said nothing, though she felt his penetrating stare on her back as he watched her. It caused heat to simmer low in her belly, a sensation she’d never felt before.
The sensation didn’t abate, not even as she exited the resort and walked to her car, a ramshackle bucket of bolts she’d purchased two years earlier, when she’d first moved to Mexico. She sighed as she slid into the driver’s seat, the image of Elijah’s sexy-as-sin face and his interest in her warring in her mind with the memories of that other man.
Samantha twisted her lips together as she put the key into the ignition and turned.
It was going to be a long night.
Linger Page 27