The VIP Room(58)

“Were you close to her?”

“Yes,” I said softly. I tapped the couch. “It’s why this monstrosity is still in here.”

A soft grin lit up his features and I momentarily forgot to breathe. “It adds charm,” he decided.

There was another pause, but I was surprised that I didn’t find it uncomfortable. Tristan was so at ease in silence that I couldn’t find it in myself to be bothered by it.

“You never answered my question, you know,” I reminded him softly. I noticed that he had stubble lining his strong jaw and chin. I longed to reach out and trace it, but held myself back.

“I can’t give you answers to your questions,” he said, his voice husky and low. I almost shivered. He had the greatest voice. “All I know is that I’ve been thinking about you since Saturday night and I’ve been regretting the way that I treated you. I’ve been beating myself up really, especially when Martin told me you refused a ride home. I drove around for a half hour looking for you, hoping that you’d made it home okay.”

My mouth parted in shock as I listened to him. “You did?” I breathed. “But that’s ridiculous. You barely even know me.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” he argued, eyebrows furrowing. “And despite what you may think, I always make sure women get home safely.”

For some reason, I believed him.

“I took a cab,” I told him softly.

“I figured you did. But I just wanted to be sure.” A brief pause. He ran his hand through his hair again, finally glancing back at me. “It was driving me crazy. And I had no idea how to contact you. I only knew your first name. So imagine my surprise when you come striding into my building on Monday afternoon, practically spitting fire as you took me down a notch.” He gave a small laugh and I felt my stomach flutter. “I couldn’t help but be intrigued. That’s why I want to have dinner with you. It’s as simple as that.”

“Wow,” I said, staring at my TV screen before looking down at my lap. My heart was beating a mile a minute. “You really are a charmer, aren’t you?”

I saw his smile out of the corner of my eye. “Has anyone ever told you that you are highly suspicious of people?”

“Can you blame me?” I countered. “I liked you when I met you on Saturday night. And look where that got me.”

His face softened. I felt him take my hand, his strong thumb brushing the sensitive skin of my palm. “For the record, I am sorry for that night. I was a complete * to you and I don’t have any excuse for it. I’m not sorry that I met you though, just for how I treated you.”

I didn’t know what to say. My face felt warm and I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “It’s a lot to take in, Tristan.”

“It’s just dinner.”

I sighed. Even if I did want to have dinner with him, to have an opportunity to turn this into something more, I couldn’t. I had my career to consider and no one, not even Tristan Blackwell, could take that away from me.

“I can’t,” I told him, a part of me already regretting my words. “My firm has a strict policy about dating clients. And your building…it’s a huge deal for me. I can’t screw this up, I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t deterred. “A business dinner then,” he suggested easily. He gave my palm another swipe, but this time with the pads of his fingers. “To discuss exactly what I want. For my building, of course.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed at his flirting. His fingers moved to the underside of my wrist and I caught his gaze, noticing his broad grin.

“Finally I get you to laugh,” he murmured, gazing at me with an intensity that reminded me of the night we met, the way he’d looked at me as he thrust powerfully between my shaking thighs.

I cleared my throat. My mind was already fogging over with desire, so I looked away. The last thing I needed was for him to be a distraction.

“What do you say, Noelle?”

“I…” I bit my lip. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think it over.”

“Take as much time as you need,” he told me, sincerity shining in his voice.

I relaxed, glad that he would let me decide. Because if he’d pushed me anymore, I would’ve caved and given into him. I wanted to. He probably knew it too. He was the head of Blackwell Financial for a reason and I was beginning to suspect it wasn’t just because of who his father was. Tristan had a vicious business sense. And he didn’t like to lose.

“I like you like this,” he murmured lowly. In surprise, I looked at him again.

“Like what?”

“All soft.” He pushed back a tendril framing my face. “Honest. You won’t let me get away with anything, will you?” I smiled, despite everything. “But I also like you when you’re working, busting my balls.”

“You like that? Are you a masochist?” I teased, raising a brow.

Another grin. “Maybe.”

We looked at each other for a little while. I took in his straight nose, his full lips, his dark eyelashes. I felt flushed. My whole body was humming with awareness. I knew he felt it too.

When he spoke next, his voice was rough and husky. “I should go. I promised to leave you with your virtue in tact and if I stay any longer, I won’t be able to keep that promise.”