Billionaire With a Twist(24)
“Well, I’m not onna—on the clock, am I?” I snapped back, embarrassed. I could feel my blush burning my cheeks as I became even more aware of the short plaid skirt, kitten heels, and low-cut red blouse that Martha had talked me into purchasing at the mall en route. “Is it a crime to wear nice things?”
“Depends on who you’re wearing them for,” he growled, sending a look at a nearby frat guy that was pure poison. Frat guy had been coming forward proffering a drink; he back-pedaled like a mouse who’d just seen a lion.
“Didn’t realize you were CEO of my wardrobe too,” I grumbled. Who was he to comment on my outfits? Just because we’d slept together once didn’t mean he owned me. “Look, if you’re taking me home, take me home.”
I tried to stand, and Hunter grabbed my arm to keep me from falling, walking me gently to his car. I leaned into him, savoring his solidity, his strength.
The feel of his hands on me made it very difficult to remember why I was angry at him.
He helpfully reminded me. “I don’t understand why you’re here to be taken home in the first place.” His voice was a tightly wound spring, emotions I couldn’t quite grasp bottled up under pressure. “After what happened last time, I would have thought you’d swear off ‘research’ of this nature.”
I fumbled at the door handle to the car, my face flushed with drink and embarrassment. “For your infor—infor—informayshun, I wasn’ planning to drink at all.” I flopped onto the car seat, nearly strangling myself with the seatbelt. “Dammit! Shit. I’m fine, just—” I waved away his assistance, buckling myself in with only a few dozen fumbles. “Some * spiked the punch.”
“Well, that explains why you’re currently walking as if your legs are made of Jell-O,” Hunter said. “It doesn’t explain why you’re here in the first place.”
“I was doing more research,” I admitted as he started the engine. “Just on the demo—dem—the graphic thing. Not booze.”
I expected him to give me more of a hard time, but he just nodded, tight-lipped. Then: “Did it work?”
I thought of that tagline again, and grinned. “Oh yeah.”
I thought I saw Hunter smile, just a bit, his shoulders relaxing, before he pulled out of the driveway.
The cicadas sang almost as loud as the engine as we flew along the highway. I watched the horizon to keep from getting carsick, silhouettes of dark hills and moss-laden trees and kudzu along a deep sky backlit by the lights of the city that drew dimmer and dimmer as we left civilization.
“Over the river and through the woods…” I murmured.
“To Grandmother’s house we go,” Hunter finished dryly. “Seeing as we’re heading to my house, I can only draw the conclusion that I’m the grandmother.”
“Oh please,” I said, turning to him and contemplating his profile with a lazy grin. I laid my hand on his leg, up on his thigh. Hey, I was drunk. And it was a nice thigh. “Like you could be anything but the big, bad wolf.”
He swallowed, hard.
There was a forced lightness in his tone as he said, “I take it you think I should get a haircut.”
“Don’t you dare.” I shook my other finger at him. “You stay shaggy, Mr. Sexy Wolf.”
I never knew someone could choke on air before.
When Hunter had regained his composure—and I had stopped giggling—well, mostly stopped, I was still giggling a little bit, I find it very hard to stop giggling when I’m tipsy—he went on. “I’m surprised Martha didn’t find you a gigolo before she went off to cultivate her harem.”
“Puh-lease!” I scoffed. “They’re babies. Big hairy whiny drunk babies. Oh wow. I think I just made babies terrifying. Just…giant babies. Hairy. Wow.”
Hunter returned my hand to my own lap, his hand lingering just a second to pat my knee. “You just sleep that off there, darling,” he drawled in that smooth-as-honey accent.
My eyes were feeling kind of heavy…I leaned back into the leather seat and giggled one final time.
#
“Ally. Ally, wake up.”
I moaned fretfully, and opened my eyes. I was compensated for this Herculean labor by the sight of Hunter’s handsome face only inches from mine.
Thankfully, before I could drunkenly decide to kiss him, he pulled away. “We’re home.”
“Oh,” I said, standing. Yep, it was a good thing he had pulled away. I wasn’t disappointed. At all.
Unfortunately, the drive hadn’t been near long enough for me to have sobered up. The second I stood, the lavish grounds of the Knox plantation set themselves a-spinning, and I stumbled.
Hunter caught my arm. “Allow me.”
Heat coursed through my veins at the touch of his strong hands on my bare skin. He was holding me upright, holding me safe…his hands were so callused, and yet so gentle…
He was looking at me so earnestly with those deep dark eyes, shot through with pure gold…
“You don’t have to,” I mumbled, half-heartedly pulling away.
His grip stayed firm, and he smiled, his expression as gentle as his touch. “I do if I want to save my company.” The smile widened, mischievous. “After all, you can’t explain your brilliant strategy from beyond the grave.”