Lie to Me

by Natasha Preston

  Kent

  I offered to put this shit together over two weekends, but Heidi was having none of it. She didn't want to come in on her days off, as she's big on downtime to improve productivity. What-fucking-ever.

  Never mind that I don't want to be in the same room as Savannah Dean, which is currently where I am.

  Heidi was stupid to employ her, only giving her a job because she heard some fucking sob story, no doubt. I'm proud of my sister, but we could keep her business in the family. One of our cousins could be doing what Savannah is doing here.

  I ball my hands and breathe deeply.

  Savannah bites her lip and gestures to the boxes with her hand. "Where do you want to start?"

  Though she's always been boring as hell and a meek pushover, the coffee thing excluded, she is without a shadow of a fucking doubt the hottest thing I have seen in my life. Slim figure with a few curves in the right places, long dark blonde hair--which was almost brown when I saw her in winter, I remember--and big grey eyes that remind me of the sky before a storm. Someone with the personality of a Monday shouldn't look like that.

  Heidi keeps telling me to give her a chance, but what's the point? She's not the type of girl I'd hang out with. I prefer someone who wouldn't jump if I called their name. I don't know why, but she seems so emotionless and shady.

  "Clear a space, and open the first box, I guess," I reply.

  "All right." Spinning, she heads over to the boxes and gets started.

  I watch her as we clear a space big enough to put together this massive storage unit. Every move is thought out and precise, but she does almost bump into me a couple of times.

  "Sorry," she mutters, shifting around me again.

  For fuck's sake, she apologises every time we almost bump into each other. Almost. How pathetic is that?

  Her arm grazes mine, and I jerk my head back. She spins around, her hair fanning around her back. Shit, her hair smells like coconut.

  Abandon ship!

  I grit my teeth. Clamping my mouth shut, I haul a large box out of the way and ignore her. She moves over to the other side of the room and keeps her eyes down, seemingly trying not to look at me.

  I shove a stack of paperwork in a box half-full of other paperwork. They really need to get a handle on their filing.

  Savannah moves materials and boxes of needles and thread out of the storeroom. Her long hair falls in her face as she bends down to pick up a small stack of fashion magazines. I now know how it smells, too.

  My dick responds, stirring at the thought of that hair splayed out over my thighs.

  Get it together. She probably doesn't even do blow jobs.

  I bet her face would turn bright red at the mere mention of sucking a dick.

  She picks up a large box, her fingers digging into the bottom. It's probably too much for her to carry. Why she doesn't put it down and leave it for me, I don't know. I fold my arms and watch her shuffle awkwardly to the door in her heels.

  Ask for fucking help!

  I'm not that much of a dickhead that I wouldn't help her. But, apparently, I'm big enough of a dickhead to watch her struggle with it.

  Why doesn't she ask?

  She turns to head out the door, and that's when I see it. A roll of fabric sticking a little too far out on the floor. I drop my arms and open my mouth, but before I can move an inch or mutter a word, she's falling.

  Fuck.

  With a short scream, she hits the floor, face-planting on the box.

  "Shit, Savannah!" I shout, sprinting to where she's lying on the floor.

  Pushing herself onto her arse, she hisses. "Oh God, my wrist. Jesus, it hurts. I think it's broken."

  Well, that's great. She's probably going to sue my sister.

  Savannah lifts her wrist with her good hand and winces.

  I crouch down, and her grey eyes flick to me. I place my hand under hers, gently touching her slim wrist. "Show me," I urge.

  "Why? Do you have medical training I don't know about?" she snaps.

  Her words are completely unlike her. I blink, surprised that she's not only said more than a few words to me, but that they're sarcastic words, too. I'm half-impressed, half-turned on.

  What the hell has gotten into her? The five or six times I've seen her before, she's been quiet and shy. Does pain make her argumentative? I don't know if she's withdrawn because that's just her or if she's hiding something. I don't like that I can't read her. That's how you get fucked over. I would know.

  "Hilarious." I move my hand closer to her. "Now, let me see."

  Removing her good arm, she mutters, "Fine. But don't touch it too hard; it's painful."

  "Yeah, you went down like a sack of shit there."

  "Wow, thanks." She winces.

  For a good minute, neither of us speaks. I don't dare look up at her because I have no idea what I'll find. All I know is that I don't like her being in pain ... and I can smell coconut.

  "I can't see any visible breaks, but it's starting to swell. We should get it looked at."

  Growling, she narrows those pretty eyes. "This is just great. I should have known. Simon can bloody rot. I don't care if he gets eaten--" She clamps her mouth shut, mid-rant. Her pale skin turns pink over her cheeks.

  "What are you going on about?" I ask. Who's Simon?

  Shaking her head, she drops her eyes. "Nothing. Forget it. This really hurts, so I need to get to Accident and Emergency. Can you let Heidi know what's happened, please? I'll be back as soon as I can."

  I'm still kneeling on the floor as she gets up. I should move.

  "Kent? Hello?"

  Snapping back to reality, I leap to my feet. "I'll take you."

  "What? No, you don't need to do that. There's a taxi service just down the road."

  "I said, I'll fucking take you, Savannah. Do you need anything? A handbag?"

  Her slender frame jumps at my volume. She needs to accept help the first damn time and not try arguing against it.

  "Yeah, I need my bag," she says, walking out of the room.

  This is a bad idea. I should just let her get a taxi.

  Jabbing my finger and thumb in my eyes, I groan.

  Dropping my arms to my sides, I sigh and follow her out of the room. I should never have agreed to help Heidi.

  I grab my keys from Heidi's table, and we head out the door. Savannah pushes it with her good arm. I slam my hand on the door above her, shoving it wide open so that she doesn't have to. Looking up at me through her lashes, she smiles in thanks.

  Tapping my fingers against my palm, I ignore her. Or I try to at least. The scent of her hair is still intoxicating. I unlock my car and glance over the road at the cafe where Heidi is getting more coffee. I can't see her, but we don't have time to go looking. Savannah needs medical attention.

  Tugging open the door to my Range Rover, I stand to the side, so Savannah can get in.

  Her light eyebrows rise in surprise. "Um, thanks, Kent."

  Is it really that surprising that I've opened a door for her again? How low is her opinion of me?

  I jog around to the driver's side, get in, and start the engine.

  "I should call Heidi and let her know what's going on," she says, digging around in her bag for her phone. She rests her bad arm on her leg, her eyes narrowing slightly through pain.

  I speed down the road, eager to get her to the hospital and me away from this whole situation. Next time Heidi asks me for help, I'm going to hire someone for her.

  Gripping the steering wheel harder, I listen to Savannah's soft voice as she explains to my sister why we left.

  "Honestly, I'm fine, Heidi. I'll be back after I've had it checked."

  She wants to go back to work. I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure she should rest it for a least a day. The words are on the tip of my tongue before I realise she's nothing to do with me, and I don't care if she goes back to work or fucks off and goes home.

  I don't care about Savannah Dean.

  "Yeah, I'll let you
know as soon as I do. Bye, Heidi." Savannah lowers the phone and cuts the call. Her eyes flick to mine for a nanosecond before she's looking down.

  I watch her pull her full bottom lip between her teeth and chew it like it's a piece of fucking steak. She's either in a lot more pain than she's letting me see or my presence makes her more nervous than I first thought.

  I'm not a total wanker ... at least, not all the time.

  "We're nearly there," I say, giving in to the need to fill the silence and maybe make her more comfortable with being in the car with me.

  Her head rises, grey eyes seeking mine, and she gives me a stunning smile. "Yeah. Thanks again for driving me. It's a lot quicker than waiting for a taxi."

  "That, and I don't charge as much."

  Her eyes widen. "Of course. I'm going to give you money for petrol," she says, flustered as she digs in her bag.

  "Whoa, Savannah. Chill. I was kidding." What the fuck? "I don't want your money."

  She freezes with her hand in her bag. Her face is blank, like she's trying to figure out how to respond.

  This is damn painful.

  "It was a joke." My eyes widen. "A bad one clearly."

  Clearing her throat, she sits back up in the chair. "Right. Sorry. Though I don't mind. You are doing me a favour."

  "No money, Savannah."

  Fucking hell.

  I make a left, and the hospital is just up ahead.

  She sighs. "I hope I don't have a long wait. The last time I was here, it took almost three hours to get my foot looked at."

  "What did you do to your foot?"

  "Dropped a kettle on it. Thankfully, it was filled with cold water, not hot."

  "So, you're accident-prone in general."

  Tilting her head, she cuts me a look. "I've only had to go to the hospital twice in my whole life. Well, three times after today."

  "What was the other trip for?"

  Turning away, her shoulders bunching over, she sucks in a breath. Well, I've hit a nerve. She doesn't say a word, but the walls go so high, I'm surprised she hasn't jumped from the car yet.

  That was weird.

  Her body is rigid as she stares out the window, like she's alone in the car. It's still awkward, so thank God we're here. I pull into the car park, and by some miracle, I find a space right away.

  The second I stop, she takes off her seat belt. "Thank you for the lift. I appreciate it."

  Am I really about to do this? "Look, I'll come in and make sure you're okay."

  "You so don't have to do that. I'll be fine from here."

  "How will you get back?" I ask.

  "A taxi."

  "And what if the driver attacks you? How will you properly defend yourself with only one good arm?"

  Her lip quirks. "Really, Kent?"

  "You never know."

  "I think I'll be fine."

  My chest burns with ... anger? Annoyance? I'm not sure, but it, she, or the fact that I've not been this attracted to a woman since my ex is pissing me off.

  "Savannah, I'm coming."

  "All right," she concedes and tugs the door handle with her good hand. I didn't think it would take long for her to back down. "Thanks."

  I groan and look up. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? I could hardly go back to Heidi's office alone though. She'd have had my balls for leaving Savannah alone at the hospital.

  Getting out of the car, I lock the doors and walk around the front where Savannah is waiting. With a little half-smile, she turns and walks toward the Accident and Emergency entrance.

  "How's the wrist?" I ask, striding beside her.

  She's got a proper march on. She must be in a lot of pain. I have to walk inhumanly fast to keep up.

  "It hurts."

  The double doors slide open as we approach, and Savannah heads to the reception desk.

  The chick behind the desk, probably only a few years older than me, looks at me first. Her eyes linger a little too long.

  Just do your job, for fuck's sake. I'll get to you in a minute.

  "How can I help you?" she asks.

  Savannah clears her throat. "I fell and hurt my wrist."

  The woman--Carlin, according to her name badge--is totally my type, but coming on to her in the middle of her shift and in a busy Accident and Emergency room is probably a no-no. Not that I'm not up for the challenge.

  "Okay," she says, averting her eyes and finally looking at Savannah. "I'll just need to take a few details."

  Usually, I wouldn't let something such as work, public spaces, or human decency get in the way of a shag, and the vibes Carlin is giving me guarantees me naked time, but there's something about having Savannah right here that has me biting my tongue.

  I'm supposed to go back and put flat-pack storage systems together for my sister, too. I don't want to let Heidi down; that's what it is.

  "Thanks," Savannah says after giving Carlin all the details she requested.

  I take one last glance at a missed opportunity and follow Savannah to find a seat.

  3

  Savannah

  I slump down on a plastic seat and clench my teeth together. Why am I irritated over Kent and the receptionist making eyes at each other? They can do what they want, right? I shouldn't care. Well, maybe I'm irritated because I'm the damn patient, and she was more interested in shagging him with her eyes.

  Not that I blame her. It's difficult to look away from him.

  Kent's gaze follows me as he leans back in his seat. He looks wary, scared of me almost. That makes for a nice change. Though, in reality, he's probably just wishing he were anywhere else.

  "You okay?" he asks cautiously, his voice wavering, showing real emotion. In that second at least, he cares if I'm all right or not.

  "Yes, I'm fine. You don't have to sit around with me, if you don't want to."

  Bugger off, and speak to the woman who would undoubtedly take you into the restroom right now.

  His eyebrows knit together. "Did I dream our conversation in the car? I thought we'd established that I was staying."

  "We did, but you seem very ... distracted."

  "The fuck? We've been in here for three minutes."

  I'm acting like a crazy person. Why does it matter what he does?

  He's staying to give me a lift home, not to hold my damn hand.

  My God, today is a bad day.

  Sighing, I try to get a grip on myself. "Sorry. I'm just in pain, and I don't do pain well."

  He folds his arms and kicks his legs out. If someone were walking past, he would trip them. "Don't worry about it. I grew up with two sisters."

  My spine instantly straightens. "Meaning?"

  "Dramatic," he grunts.

  Cheeky bastard.

  "My gender has nothing to do with it! I'll tell you what; lay your arm on the floor, I'll stamp on it, and we'll see if it fucking hurts."

  His head snaps back in my direction, and his mouth parts. I've shocked him.

  I've kind of shocked myself, too.

  My heart is thudding away, sending blood pumping through my body so fast, I might faint while sitting down. This is a little more like the old me. The part I actually liked.

  He gave me a lift to the hospital, and he's waiting for me so that he can take me home, and all I've done so far is be bitchy. Oops.

  "Do you want me to see if they have any pain relief? Or a fucking sedative?" he asks.

  Despite myself, I can't stop the burst of laughter that erupts from my mouth. Kent chuckles, too, and shakes his head.

  "I apologise for the"--I raise my eyebrow at him--"dramatics."

  "That's all right. I understand it's hard to keep a cool head when I'm around. Many women suffer the same."

  I roll my eyes. "Like the receptionist? And I don't lose my mind around you, Kent; you're not my type."

  Actually, that's not the whole truth. Physically, I'm very attracted to him--my pounding heart can attest to that--but he doesn't need to know.

  His jaw tight
ens. "Don't lie to yourself."

  How did he ...

  "I'm not lying to myself or anyone else. I don't want any man." Ever again.

  His eyes search mine for a second. I don't know what he's looking for, but he clearly doesn't find it because he asks, "Are you a lesbian?"

  "Are you for real? If a girl doesn't want you, that makes her gay?"

  "You really are dramatic, Savannah. You said you don't want any man."

  Oh. I blink and desperately rack my brain for something to say to get me out of this. "Well ... no."

  "Well, no?" he repeats.

  He's loving this.

  I fidget in my seat. Where the hell is a nurse? If it could get me away from Kent and this conversation, I would break my other arm.

  "I'm straight."

  "What did he do?"

  I cut him a look. "What did who do?"

  "Your ex."

  What did he do? Wow. That's definitely not a conversation for a hospital waiting room. Or anywhere else for that matter.

  I shake my head and reply, "He didn't do anything. We just didn't work out. Besides, I've never had a proper relationship before. But with, what, forty percent of marriages ending in divorce and everyone cheating on everyone else nowadays, I think I'll pass."

  "So, what's the plan?"

  "Career. What's your plan?"

  "Same." He grins. "And casual sex."

  Of course that's his plan.

  "Have you had a relationship before?" I ask. I'm guessing no.

  "Yes."

  Well, damn.

  I feel my eyebrows rocket to the top of my forehead. Way to keep the surprise off your face. "You have?"

  "We were seventeen. She turned out to be a fucking whore." His words are filled with venom, his teeth bared.

  She must have done a real number on him.

  "Can I ask what happened?"

  "No," he replies tightly.

  Okay then.

  "Savannah Dean?"

  I look up to find who called my name. A lady in blue nurse's scrubs looks around the room. Thank God. Standing up, I give her a smile.

  "If you'd like to follow me," she says, returning my smile.

  I don't look back at Kent because, honestly, the whole conversation since we got here was like a car crash. If he's gone when I get out, I won't be surprised.

  I'd give anything to keep my cool around him--he wasn't exactly wrong when he said I couldn't--but apparently, I can't. Like, really can't.

  He draws me in, and that's the last thing I need. I want to be in the background, forgettable.

  The nurse asks me a series of questions and takes a look at my arm. When she's unable to get a diagnosis, she takes me for an X-ray. After that, I'm led back to the waiting room until a doctor has checked my X-ray.