Behind Closed Doors (Behind Closed Doors #1)(24)

“How long?” he immediately repeats.

“Six months.”

“Are you in law school?”

“Not yet. Why?”

“Why not?”

“I’m not ready,” I say, barely containing the defensiveness in my tone. “Is this twenty questions, or what?”

“So the answer is money,” he says, ignoring my smart remark and nailing the answer as to why I’m not in law school, but I’m not about to tell a total stranger my personal business.

“That’s really not your business.”

Those green eyes of his glint. “In other words, I can strip you naked and have my way with you, but I can’t ask about school?”

“No tomorrow, remember?”

“Except we’ll be together tomorrow.”

“Semantics,” I counter, my hands settling on my hips. “And you know it.”

“Answer the question,” he urges softly, but there is another command etched in his tone.

My first reaction is to play dodgeball again, but the man is being blackmailed. He’s looking for reasons to trust me, just like I am him. “I have a plan for school,” I finally say. “I’ll start in two years.”

“Why not now?”

“Now isn’t always an option.”

“Which means what?”

My brows dip. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“No.”

“Fine. I want to work only part time during law school, thus I work two jobs now.”

“What two jobs?”

“Why does that matter?” He just stares at me, and wanting this over, I give in. “Oh, good grief. I wait tables at night and on most weekends and work for an attorney during the day.”

“I offered you ten thousand dollars for the unit.”

“Your point?”

“That would help your situation.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“What if I make it one hundred thousand?”

It’s a test. Or a bribe. Whatever the case, it’s offensive, and I take a step back. He drops my bag and follows, fingers splaying on my back, pulling me to him. I flatten my hand on his chest, holding him at bay. “I don’t want your money,” I hiss, “and I don’t want to go with you to Vegas.”

“That money would make your path to law school easier.”

“I can’t be bought. And easy always has a price.”

“There is no price but that unit.”

“I’m not making you pay for the damn unit. Actually, if I decide you can have it, you can have it for the seven hundred dollars it cost. My friend loaned me the money and I have to pay her back. And you know what? If I were sure Stephanie was alive and that you broke no law, I’d just give it to you now and make you go away.”

“And if I were sure you weren’t involved with Stephanie—”

“You still think—”

“You still think.”

I inhale and let it out. “We don’t trust each other, yet I was about to climb on a plane and into your hotel bed.” I look up at the ceiling. “What the hell was I thinking?” He cups my face and forces my gaze to his, and before he can speak I say, “Either you’re a low-down * who’s manipulating me or you’re a fool because sex is what got you in trouble in the first place.”

“I told you I’ll get you your own room in Vegas. In fact, that’s probably the smartest thing for both of us.”

“I’m not going.”

He kisses me, a soft brush of warm lips gone too soon. “I’ll get you your own room,” he repeats.

“You convince me of this by kissing me?”

“I didn’t say I’d keep my hands or mouth off of you.”

“You’re always kissing me.”

“You kissed me first,” he says.

“Don’t remind me.”

His lips curve. “I’m going to remind you.”

My fingers curl around his shirt. “But you accused me of blackmail.”

“You accused me of murder. That trumps blackmail.” He releases me and grabs my bag again. “Molly will know you are with me. You’re safe. I’m the one at risk if you’re up to something.”

I glower. “You’re not very good at this whole seduce-me-along-for-the-ride thing.”

“Then I’d better try harder.” He drops my bag again and drags me to him, fingers twining in my hair, and gives me a curl-your-toes kind of deep, hot kiss that promises a whole lot more steam to follow. “How’d I do this time?” he asks, tearing his lips from mine.

“Better,” I confess, “but—”

He kisses me again, deeper, hotter, and then demands, “How about now?”

“Terrible,” I pant.

He gives me one of those low, sexy laughs. “Then by all means, give me a chance to improve.”

“You think you can?”

He drags his thumb across my cheek. “Try me, baby.”

He can. Oh yes, I know he can. “I’ll go, but we tell Molly, and I’ve already texted a friend.”

His hands settle on my shoulders and he gives me a direct look, those green eyes downright piercing. “I’m not the fool you accused me of being. I haven’t touched a woman since this blackmail started.”