Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(52)

I wrinkle my nose. “Scooch?”

“Yeah. Like, get your ass over to the other side. I’m driving.”

I frown at the gearshift and console in the center of my car. It’d be much easier to just get out of the car and run to the other side. I’m wearing a short skirt, after all.

But what the hell.

I lift my legs out from under the steering wheel and, not very gracefully, “scooch.” He watches my legs the whole time, licking his lips as if he’s hoping to get a peek. Then he slides into the driver’s seat and pulls out of his driveway like a bat out of hell.

“So where are we going?”

“I want to show you something.”

“What can you possibly show me in Atlanta after dark?”

“You might be surprised,” he says, shooting me that wicked smile again. “Are you game?”

“Not really, but you seem determined, so I guess we’ll do things your way.”

“Smart lady.” He winks. “Glad to see you’re paying attention.”

“But only tonight.” I narrow my eyes. “Tomorrow, we’re up bright and early to fly to the West Coast show.”

“Deal. Now, step out of your little ‘I’m special’ box, and hang on for the ride. You’ll love this.”

He accelerates and weaves in between a couple of semis before taking off like a man who knows how to get what he wants.

I can’t help but wonder if he wants to impress the girl or lay down the woman, but either way, I trust him. I just hope that trust doesn’t land me in a heap of trouble.

It easily could.

I feel comfortable with this guy, more comfortable than I feel with CEOs and millionaire types. I love that James doesn’t look at money as if dollar signs should be worshipped on the altar of success. It’s definitely part of his charm. Money is a means to pay his bills, and nothing more. I’ve never known anyone who didn’t care about managing and accumulating wealth.

Then there’s Charlie. How many young men would take on their kid brother to raise? Not many.

Men in my crowd would’ve hired a team of nannies or unloaded the kid on a family member. Not James.

He’s such a good person. Maybe I’ve suspected as much from the start. I saw glimpses of his character even when he was fighting at Tim’s Bar.

James is the kind of man who might go in for the kill, but he won’t take it. He might rough someone up, but only if few other options exist. He could’ve taken advantage of me that first night but didn’t.

He’s rowdy, but he’s also honorable.

All in all, he’s more upstanding than anyone I’ve ever known, so that’s something to build on. Right?

I glance at him. He smiles at me.

There’s only one way to find out.

An hour later, security clears us at a checkpoint and waves us through.

“What is this place?”

“A studio.”

“Of course it is,” I say, laughing.

“I may be an amateur in your book, but some of my stunts happen at fifteen thousand feet.” He points to a building. “I’ve been up there many times.”

“You work here?”

“I do. Too much time between jobs, though, so my channel was born.”

As soon as I see a guy leaping off a building, I panic. “But you can’t . . .”

“I have and could again . . .” He parks the car. “But won’t while I’m on your payroll.”

Suddenly, I don’t want him to risk stunt work again. A young guy with an everlasting death wish tumbles off the side of the building while a director waves his arms and shouts, “No. No. No. Not like that.”

“Come on.” He takes my hand. “I want to show you a surprise.”

Surprise? When did he go from “showing me something” to “surprise,” and what does this all mean?

Calm down, Lizzy. He isn’t taking you to Disneyland or an X-rated couple’s retreat. I grin because I like the idea of the first, while James would probably enjoy the latter.

What is it about opposites and attractions?

I follow him until we reach a couple of golf carts and four-wheelers located at the edge of the parking lot. “Hop on.”

“I’m not an adrenaline junkie.”

“Ah, come on. Live a little.”

“Look what I’m wearing. Would you?”

“Sit sideways.” He grins. “Or just hike up your skirt and slide in behind me. I won’t look.”

“Liar.”

“Tease.”

He boards the ATV and starts it with ease. “If you don’t get on, then I’ve wasted your time bringing you out here.” He shoots me a daring look. “You don’t strike me as a woman who likes to waste her time.”

I stare into the night wondering what he could possibly want to show me out here. “My life is in your hands.” I climb aboard, straddling the seat behind him.

“And I take that shit to heart,” he says, pulling my arms tighter around him. “Relax and enjoy the ride!”

He guns it, and I feel like I’ve lost all control, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s his motive.

We reach the top of the ridge, and he steers the ATV down a rugged terrain. To the left is a cabin, but to the right is what I’m sure he wants to show me . . . Atlanta at night.