Any Time, Any Place (Billionaire Builders #2)(22)

“Yeah. We’re good.” Dismissed, Dalton rose, filing his papers back into the organized folders. “I’ll see you Tuesday morning. Text or call if you have any questions. My private cell number is on here.” He plucked a card from his wallet and pressed it into her outstretched palm.

A shock bolted right through him the moment his fingers brushed hers.

WTF?

She jerked back, eyes wide as a strange energy enveloped both of them in an almost misty fog. His dick roared to life, aching hard, and Dalton gripped her hand as he tried to figure out why his heart twisted in a longing ache for something he didn’t know.

“Raven?”

Her name ripped from his lips as a question.

Pure fear flickered over her face. She snatched her hand from his, cradling it tight to her chest, and whirled away from him. “See you Tuesday.”

He opened his mouth to call out for her, but she’d already disappeared.





chapter eight




Raven woke up with test stomach.

Holding back a groan, she tried to breathe past it. It was a condition that had plagued her all through school, even though she’d never been a nerd or obsessed with perfect grades. It was more like being at the mercy of a lousy number. One wrong answer, even though she knew the material, could skew an entire letter grade. Her father used to make her plain toast with a touch of marmalade to help soothe her stomach. He’d always known test days and anticipated her needs.

God, she missed him.

Fighting back a sigh, she checked the mirror before she headed out to the bar. She donned her usual outfit: jeans, tank, and Skechers sneakers with high wedges. She left her hair loose and messy, since she wasn’t serving food, and deliberately veered away from makeup. No need to impress the man. They were both there for business, and maybe she’d gain more traction on his past. The image of his face turning cold and hard when he told her about the car accident haunted her. She’d been so intent on digging for information, she hadn’t prepared for the emotion behind it. He was someone who understood what it felt like to lose a parent in an accident. Somehow, she’d kept her idea of him separate from any feelings, as if his accusations against her father had numbed him to the power of grief. She was just beginning to realize it was going to be harder than she thought to revisit the past.

She’d be more confident in her abilities to handle Dalton Pierce if he hadn’t done the worst thing possible and touched her.

A shiver raced down her spine. The moment their skin had met, a jolt of pure feeling shook her body. She wished she could compare it to the unpleasant sensation of being shocked when her fur glove hit metal, but it was deeper than that. A hungry need pushed through her blood and burrowed into her gut, urging her to move closer to him, screaming for her to let the touch linger.

Hell no.

Instead, she’d jumped back and run away. Raven didn’t even care if she looked like a coward, she only knew it was key to her survival that she get far away from him.

But today, there’d be no touching. She was ready, dressed in armor, and focused on gaining information without being vulnerable.

She drove to the pub, unlocking the doors and flipping on the lights. The vast space was quiet and hummed with the energy of people endlessly rushing in and out, now ghostly on this Tuesday. Brewing a pot of coffee, she got ready, making sure she’d moved everything off and away from the bar. Setting up her workstation at a table midway back, she sorted inventory files and made her agenda for the day.

The warm breeze blew in as the door opened. She looked up.

Damn him for being so hot.

There was something about men who worked with their hands that had always turned her on. She had a tendency to attract the starving artist types or bad boy rockers, but Dalton’s craft was just as swoonworthy. The simple white T-shirt molded to his carved chest, and the jeans were faded and worn to cup his ass in exactly the right places. His golden hair was tied back in a short ponytail. He looked like Matthew McConaughey, one of her fave celebrity crushes. The longish nose and deep voice that dripped sex. The powerful aura and big hands that gripped tool cases and beams of wood. Even the work boots made her drool. Yep, large feet, too. Why was she surprised?

“Morning.” He set down the materials and gave her a smile. “Got a lot of stuff to bring in.”

“Need help?”

“No, ma’am. Part of the contract. I take care of everything.”

He dropped his gaze to her breasts, sweeping lower, then back up. Her skin tingled. She cleared her throat, hating how virginal she was acting around him. For God’s sake, she’d been around the proverbial block or two! She deliberately headed toward the bar. “Good. I made coffee. Want some?”

He chewed at his lip, looking a bit fearful. “Don’t know. Did you use the whole coffee tree this time?”

“I like my coffee strong.”

“Like your men?”

This time, she tossed him a careless smile. “Nope. I like my men one way only: committed.”

She appreciated his deep laugh. She could handle a lot of missing qualities in men, but a guy without a sense of humor left her cold. “I can do committed.”

Raven crossed her arms and tilted her head. “For the night?”

That slow, wicked grin hit all the right places in her girly bits. “The night, the weekend, the month. For as long as we’re happy. Isn’t that what life is about?”