Tragic Beauty (Beauty & The Darkness #1)(9)

He parks the car, letting it idle, and opens his hand. “Keys.”

I blink, then reach into my purse and place them in his palm. Without a word, he gets out of the car, climbs the steps on the side, to a landing on the second level, and knocks on a door. I can’t see who answers, but I can see him talking and handing over my keys. Then he’s walking down the steps and back to the car, and I can’t help but notice how the rain is making his white dress shirt stick to his skin, revealing hints of rolling, hard muscle. Something shifts between my legs. A sort of warming, tingly sensation that creeps throughout my body until my heart beats a little faster.

When he settles back into the car, my breath shortens.

“Alright,” he says. “Car’s going to be picked up. He’ll fix it and have it back to my house before morning.”

I stare at him. “I—I can’t pay for…”.

“On the house.” He cocks his head, eyeing me with an odd mix of arrogance and something like concern. “Anything else?”

I don’t know what to say. Then my stomach rumbles, loudly.

“Hungry, eh? Well, I can fix that too.”

“Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

He sighs and looks down. “I should’ve made sure you were okay. I shouldn’t have left you.”

“But—your plans tonight. I thought…”

“I hate those things anyway.”

He reaches up, undoes his bowtie, letting it hang around his neck, then lets loose the top two buttons of his shirt. Then he puts the car in gear, and for the first time, offers a smile. It’s crooked, mischievous and downright stunning.

Seconds later we’re on the freeway again, headed south once more. He looks my way and his voice rumbles through the car. “You said you aren’t from around here, so figure I’ll take you to my house. You can take a warm shower and get into some dry clothes.” He shoots me a look. “That alright?”

I nod and turn to gaze out the window, feeling strange. I’m not used to people doing such nice things for me. The Hanley’s have been the only ones.

“So, what’s your name?” he asks.

“Ava.” I look to him.

“Gavin.”

Our eyes connect for a moment, and it seems like he’s waiting for something, then with a slightly puzzled look on his face he turns back to the road. He grows quiet, seemingly in his thoughts, but that’s alright. I’m not one for conversation.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling into a long driveway at the top of a hill, the twinkling lights of Santa Barbara surrounding us below. Around a bend, a modern, split level house appears, that has me staring. It’s made of tinted glass with shiny metal and black wood, all put together at weird angles, and surrounded by pretty landscaping and outdoor lights that cast crazy sorts of shadows.

I’m still staring when a click sounds, and one of two large garage doors opens. Gavin pulls in slowly, the car rumbling low and beefy, next to three others that sit quietly. They’re all shiny and look expensive, especially the exotic one that sits low to the ground.

When he shuts the car off, I get out and stand. I’m so weak my body wobbles on the heels, but I manage to keep my balance. Off to the side, he opens a door and waits. I walk past him, avoiding his eyes, and hand him his tuxedo jacket as I step into a hallway. Now I’m staring again, only this time at copper walls and some sort of black flooring. It looks almost like concrete, but it’s shiny. And it’s all glowing from a soft light that drifts from somewhere above and below the walls. The effect is striking.

When I feel his presence behind me, I walk forward, my heels clicking loudly over the floor.

Gavin steps alongside and reaches out his hand. “Your jacket.”

I suddenly remember what I’m wearing underneath and shake my head.

He frowns. “Come on, hand it over. You’re soaked.”

I swallow and look down. Water runs off my coat and onto his polished floor. Slowly, I take it off. I avoid his eyes when I hand it over and wrap my arms around myself to cover up.

I look down, not sure what else to do, then notice drops are still hitting the floor. When I look up, Gavin’s just standing there, jacket in hand, staring at me.

His eyes are dark and moving over me, down the plunging neckline of my dress to my waist that’s cinched up tight, and on to my legs. My skin feels hot, like a fever is grabbing hold. I watch him blink, watch the color in his face deepen, then he closes his eyes and turns with a shake of his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

It isn’t until he’s hung my coat and is walking down the hallway that I realize I kind of liked his eyes on me.

I hurry to catch up and follow him through the house. There’s not much to it in terms of furniture, and what’s there, is clean and minimal. There’s not even so much as a picture frame, or a piece of art on the wall. But as we pass by a living room, with walls that meet at odd angles, then up a curving metal staircase that hangs from cables attached to the ceiling, I realize, the house is the art.

We go down another copper hallway when Gavin stops at a door. He opens it and switches on the light, revealing a room with dark silver walls and a large bed flanked by a couple metal nightstands, and a black writing desk along the opposite wall.

“Shower’s through there,” he motions with a point of his finger. “I’ll lay out some dry clothes for you on the bed.”