Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(42)

“My pleasure.” He accepts the large serving bowl, and when our fingers touch, our gazes meet. “Lizzy . . . I . . .”

“What?” My body is on fire. My hands are tingling. My breathing is sort of labored.

He meets my gaze. Swallows. “I won’t let you down.”

“Thanks.”

He nods and disappears into the dining room. And for the first time since we’ve started working together, I wonder what it would be like for him to hold my hand across a linen tablecloth during a candlelit dinner.

What it would be like to date a guy like him, a guy who’s unique, not concerned about appearances but only about himself, what he wants, what’s fun and feels good.

I take the daydreams a step further and imagine a quite forbidden fantasy, one that includes James taking me out on the town and kissing me good night.

Unfortunately, my fantasy wouldn’t end with a kiss good night and a promise to call. This fantasy, this illicit dream of mine, would end up with a kiss goodbye, long after the deed ended and the forbidden had been thoroughly explored.

James and I wouldn’t part ways until the wee hours of the morning. If we parted at all.





BEHIND THE WHEEL

Elizabeth

The next three weeks, we work on everything.

First, vocals. The ya definitely has to go.

Next, more manners. Please and thank you and all the manners of a gentleman.

Then, I teach him to dance. And get stepped on like crazy.

And finally, I make him watch some etiquette videos while I organize the suits that we’ll be taking to our visits with the department store buyers.

By the end of it all, I can sense James is restless and exhausted with all the things he’s had to learn, and so am I. A part of me wants to beg him to take me out again, but I dread what that could lead to. That he’ll feel it’s like a date. So I resist. But then it occurs to me that we definitely need to try this one thing. “Do you know how to drive?”

Now that I think of it, I’ve never seen him drive an actual car in any of his stunts. Only motorcycles, Jet Skis, and other crazy engine things. James raises his brows at my question, which I take as a possible no.

“Let’s go. I’ll teach you. Let me drive my car to the outskirts of the city so that you don’t hurt anyone. And for the well-being of my car,” I tease as I grab my stuff to leave.

We drive in silence as the sun sets, and by the time I reach decently empty roads, it’s dark.

“So.” I park on the side of the long stretch of road. “You can do this. Can’t you?” I ask, suddenly nervous.

His whisper is gruff in the dark. He sounds a little amused. “Do you doubt me?”

I hesitate, not certain I trust the guy not to do something crazy with my Audi.

He shoots me a daring smile and opens the door, and before we know it, we’re switching seats. And Devil is settled behind the wheel of my car.

“Okay. So this is an automatic, so it’s much easier than when I started learning on a manual—”

I trail off when he leans over, the clothes rustling in the silence of the car as he slowly takes my seat belt and draws it across my chest with infinite slowness.

I go breathless. The silence is a little deafening, when suddenly I hear the audible click of the belt—his hands lingering on my hip. Our eyes holding as firmly as the seat belt just latched on.

It’s an effort to get my windpipe to start working normally again. “Anyway, as I was saying, you just need to press the ac—”

He straightens, and as I’m explaining, he shoots me a questioning look—“Like this?”—and rams the car so hard and fast I hear a screech on asphalt as we roar onto the road.

He sinks down into the pedal, sending the car tailspinning with a deep and joyous “whoo!”

“What are you doing! Are you insane?”

“A little bit. Hang on.”

He winks, and I shouldn’t be flushed, or scared-laughing either. But I am.

I sink my nails into the sides of my seat and can’t believe how . . . exciting this is. When have I driven my car LIKE THIS?

Never, not in my dreams.

But this guy is driving my car like he stole it, and my heart is pounding like he stole me right along with it, and I didn’t even need coaxing because I was only too willing to go.

Damn this guy. He makes me want to dance. To unbutton the top buttons of my top. Take it all off. Strip to my undies, run down the highway, and laugh until I almost need to run to the ladies’ room to pee because I’m laughing so hard.

I always thought that was ridiculous. That people who needed huge thrills and crazy things to make them happy were missing something. I realize it’s not about missing something; it’s about the experience of things. The way things make you feel—excited, or scared, or daring, or courageous. Being with Devil makes me feel all those things.

We hit an area of the highway where it’s raining, and suddenly the rain is coming so hard that it’s difficult to see.

“We should stop somewhere!” I yell through the sound of rain pounding on the windshield.

“Yeah, I know where. I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.” I groan, rolling my eyes and peering out through the pounding rain.

Rain pounds into my windshield as he parks in front of a one-story, old-looking bar. Only half of the sign is lit, spelling out “WHERE BA” where it should read “NOWHERE BAR.”