Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(28)

“Yeah, me and my big mouth.” She tossed the sweater down on the bed, and it landed on a curled-up Igor, who meowed in resentment. “I guess I shouldn’t have asked. But I was curious.”

“Well, leave your curiosity at the door. From what I can remember from meeting him, he doesn’t like it if people so much as look at him the wrong way.”

“Jeez, Audrey, exactly how many times have you met this guy?”

“A handful of times. Like I said, he’s one of Logan’s closest friends.”

“And you never thought to give your sister the cliff notes rundown on the man?”

“Well gee, Gretchen, I didn’t think you’d want to bang the guy.”

She sighed deeply. “Is it weird that I’m finding the scars sexy?”

“Yes,” Audrey said flatly. “They’re not cute scars, Gretch. They’re disfiguring.”

“Yeah, but they have a story. He has a story. I like that about him. I just can’t figure him out.”

“Have you considered that he might be a virgin?”

“What? He’s not a virgin.”

“Why does that seem so crazy?” Audrey snorted. “You said he blushes, right? And doesn’t look you in the eye? And that he was scarred at an early age?”

“Yes, but—”

“You think he’s going to get a lot of ladies with a playbook like that?”

“But he has to be close to thirty, if not already thirty. I can’t believe he’d still be a virgin. Can’t you hire hookers for that sort of thing?”

“Gross, Gretchen. That’s just gross.”

“I know, but we were both thinking it.” Gretchen stared into her reflection in the mirror, considering. Was the reason why Hunter kept shying away from any sort of flirtiness that she tossed his way because he didn’t know how? Because he was a virgin?

That seemed weird, and yet . . . the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. He’d been kidnapped when he was ten. Something like that would probably leave him with trust issues and emotional scars, not to mention the physical scars. He’d freaked out when she’d seen him nak*d. And he’d freaked out again when she’d come close to kissing him. He’d also froze like a deer in headlights when she’d flirted with him.

And he’d stared at her note like it was the thing he wanted most in the world. “You might be on to something, Audrey.”

“Of course I am,” her sister said smugly. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

“You mean, hold him down and take his virginity?”

“No! Yuck! Gretchen, that’s a visual I did not want.”

“You brought it up. What do you mean, what am I going to do about it?”

“I mean that the man’s skittish as hell. If he’s a virgin, you’re going to have a hell of a time getting him to come on to you.”

“So I’ll come on to him.”

“But you said he retreats every time you try to get intimate. Perhaps he doesn’t want you to come on to him. Maybe he wants to be the aggressor and you’re not giving him a chance? Is there a way you can level the playing field?”

Gretchen thought for a moment and became a little depressed. The playing field hadn’t been level since she’d seen him nak*d that very first day. There was no way to recover from that. “I’m not sure.”

“He might be off balance and afraid to make a move if he thinks you’re sexually experienced and he’s not. Can you pretend to be a virgin?” Audrey sounded amused at the thought.

“Har de har. I just need to think about it.”

“About pretending to be a virgin?”

“No. About leveling the playing field.” And somehow getting Hunter to forget that she’d seen him in the natural state.

“Good luck, whatever you do.”

Gretchen hung up the phone and chewed on her lip. She looked into the mirror and played with her wet hair, still dripping from the shower. Dress sexy? Nah. She didn’t have the right equipment. It was like Audrey said: Hunter would be off balance around her and continue to be off balance unless she did something to “level the playing field” as her sister had claimed. So that was what she needed to do—get them on equal ground. Somehow. She’d seen him nak*d, though.

An impulsive idea flashed through her mind and she immediately shut it down, hugging her robe closed. He’d run for sure if she did that.

There was a knock at her door.

Gretchen adjusted the belt on her robe and went to the door, but didn’t open it. “Who is it?”

“I . . . me. Hunter. Buchanan.”

As if there would be a dozen other Hunters at her door. Biting back her smile, Gretchen opened the door and glanced out at him. “Hi there.”

He was dressed in a black suit, a black shirt underneath, and a dark gray tie. His hair was impeccably smoothed into a part and he carried sunglasses in his hand. Behind him, a large man easily seven feet tall stood behind him, dressed in equally dark clothing and wearing his sunglasses. Gretchen had never seen him, and alarm immediately rose. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Hunter said. He glanced backward at the man behind him and gave a brief nod. “Leave us.”