Behind Closed Doors (Behind Closed Doors #1)(25)

Shock rolls through me at the unexpected confession and I inch back to study him. “Is that a warning?”

“It’s me gambling on you. And like I’ve already said, I’m not a gambler.”

“Me going with you is me gambling on you, as well.”

“Then let’s hope we both win.” He releases me and lifts my bag again. “Shall we?”

My eyes meet his and I search for any reason to stay, but what I find is hot embers and burning promises. He wants me. I want him, and I’m so sick of saying no to everything but work and worry. I’m not saying no to him.

I walk past him and go down the stairs, feeling him behind me but not close, as if he’s giving me space to change my mind. I know this as surely as I know that I’m taking a risk on him.

I grab the doorknob and exit onto the porch, digging my keys out of my purse, the midday sun warm while Vegas will surely be hot. Jason is a short delay behind me, taking it upon himself to lean inside and lock the door before pulling it shut, but I step beside him and lock the dead bolt this time for extra measure.

As if on cue, Molly’s door opens. Jason shocks me by draping his arm over my shoulder, our intimate stance making it clear that we’re friends with benefits at the very least. Molly steps onto her porch and her eyes go wide at the sight of us—or rather Jason, who she’s staring at.

“What are you doing here?” she demands, waving her hands in the air. “You are supposed to be in Vegas!”

“I’m on my way, ma’am,” Jason assures her. “And Skye is coming with me.”

Her eyes go wide and her grin follows in an instant. “Oh, really? Now, isn’t that fun and interesting.” Her brows knit and she glances at her watch. “But tell me about fun and interesting later. If you have any flight delays, you’re screwed, Red Bull. This is for the television show. You can’t be late.”

Yikes. He had mentioned time and the television show and I’m not about to be the reason he misses it, so I grab Jason’s belt and tug. “We have to go.” I drag him forward and down the stairs.

He laughs and follows. “So I’ve been told.”

We start down the sidewalk and while I feel safe with Jason, I’m now more cautious than I’ve been with him. It’s a thought that has me turning to walk backwards and calling out to Molly, “See you tomorrow night!”

“Good luck in Vegas!” she shouts. “And have fun! You never have fun.”

I cringe at what escalated to “too much information” way too fast and head for Jason’s sports car, rounding the hood with him on my heels. “No,” I say, turning on him, holding up a hand. “I’ve got my door. We have to hurry. I’m fine.” And I am, especially since it was his nature to be a gentleman. I like the contrast of bad boy, poker player, and manners. A lot. Too much.

He hesitates but nods his acceptance and uses his key clicker to pop the trunk, I assume to stash my bag, but I don’t wait to find out. I slip into the car and in a flash he’s joined me and revved the engine. “?‘See you tomorrow night’?” he says, repeating what I’d told Molly. “Making sure she knows when you’re to return, I see.”

“She’ll worry.”

“Or think you’re in my bed and I’ve convinced you to stay.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Since I have two jobs to be back to, one of which by Sunday afternoon, that’s not going to happen.” And somehow, I think that’s for the best, for him and for me.

“I’m betting Molly’s more confident in my ability to be persuasive than you are.”

I doubt that, as I’ve kissed this man. And touched him. And seen his tattoo and, and, and . . . “Molly’s a groupie.”

He laughs that sexy, playful laugh that makes it easy to forget how intensely on edge he really is. “I don’t even want to think about what bingo nights are like with that woman, but I like her. She’s hilarious. And as for me keeping you in Vegas, don’t put it past me to tie you to a bed and keep you there.”

Tie me to a bed? “What happened to getting me my own room?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t try to get an invitation inside.”

“So you can tie me up?”

He cuts me an amused look. “Only if you ask.”

“Don’t hold your breath on that one.”

He laughs, and somehow I know I’ve just challenged him to a game he’s much better at than I am.





CHAPTER SEVEN


THE DRIVE TO the private airstrip is short, and before I know it, Jason has pulled into what I assume is a hangar. I drive rather than fly because then I’m in control. And I like control. All of it. So what am I doing here? But I am here, and Jason halts our path a few feet from a sleek jet I guess to be big enough to hold at least twenty, but not big enough to make me feel safe. Okay. Not much will make me feel safe in a plane.

“Don’t you need to park your car somewhere?” I ask.

“They valet it to a garage.”

“So you’ve used this airline before?”

“Many times.” He surprises me and reaches up, caressing my cheek. “We’ll be safe. I promise. Of the many vices I have, a death wish is not one of them.”