Blue-Eyed Devil (Travis Family #2)(39)

I pushed the button for the eighteenth floor. As the elevator whooshed up, we occupied separate corners.

Hardy studied me with frank interest. His blue cashmere sweater lay softly over the hard lines of his torso. "I appreciate you taking some time out for me today, Miss Travis."

I decided we had to go on a first-name basis. He'd started to say "Miss Travis" with a touch of overdone respect that bordered on mockery. "You can call me Haven," I muttered.

"Haven," he repeated. The sound of my name in that melted-tar drawl gave me a pang of uneasy pleasure.

"What are you doing here?" I asked tersely. "Are you really interested in this condo?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I saw your address on the prequalification form. You're at Post Oak right now. I don't see why you'd want to move from there."

"I'm only leasing that place," he said evenly. "I haven't bought it. And I like this location better."

I narrowed my eyes. "You know who used to live in this apartment, right?"

"Your brother and sister-in-law. So what?"

"So I think there's something weird about you wanting to move into Gage and Liberty's old place."

"You got another apartment available, I'll look at that one too."

We stepped out of the elevator into the H-shaped layout of corridors, all serene in varying shades of cream and gray. I turned to face Hardy, the air between us nearly crackling with challenge. "Eighteen hundred Main isn't that much better than Post Oak," I said. "In fact, in terms of bang for the buck, you're probably better off staying where you are."

Hardy lifted a brow, looking amused. "Are you trying out some new kind of sales tactic on me?"

"No. I'm wondering what your ulterior motive is."

"What's your best guess?"

I stared straight into those fathomless eyes. "I think you've got some leftover hang-up about my sister-in-law."

Hardy's smile fled. "You're way off on that one, honey. We never even slept together. I wish Liberty all the best, but I don't want her that way." He stepped closer, not touching me, but I felt like he was just about to . . . well, I didn't know what. I felt a nervous chill chase down my back. "So take another guess," he said. "You can't keep me out of here if you can't come up with a good reason for it."

I stepped back from him and took a shaky breath. "You're a hell-raiser," I said. "That's a pretty good reason."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I got all that out of my system in my twenties."

"You look like you've still got some left in you."

"No, ma'am. I'm completely tame."

I had an inkling of what he must have been like as a naughty schoolboy, trying to convince his teacher of his innocence. And his sneaky charm was so irresistible that I had to turn away to hide a smile. "Sure you are," I said, leading him to the apartment.

Stopping at the door, I began to punch numbers into the combination touch pad. I was suffused with an intense awareness of Hardy, so big and solid beside me. There was that scent again, insanely distracting.

I punched the last button, barely aware of what I was doing. Although I had used the combination pad a thousand times while I'd stayed there with Gage and Liberty, I must have hit a wrong number. Instead of clicking open, the lock emitted a series of beeps.

"Sorry," I said breathlessly, trying to look anywhere but at him.

"I pushed the wrong buttons. When that happens, It takes a few seconds to clear and reset. You can change the combination to any number you — "

"Haven," he said quietly, and waited until I could bring myself to look up at him.

I gripped the door handle as if hanging on for dear life. I had to clear my throat before I could make a sound. "Wh-what?"

"Why do I make you so nervous?" His voice was soft, reaching inside me to a raw, tender place. A mocking smile touched his lips. "You afraid I'm going to make a move on you?"

I couldn't answer. I can't stand this, I thought desperately. Heat washed over me, color layering on color. My heart worked in painful beats. All I could do was stare at Hardy without blinking, my back pressing against the door while he bent over me. He moved closer, imparting the pressure of his body until I felt the touch of hard muscle in several places at once. I closed my eyes, mortified by the rapid gusts of my breathing.

"Then let's get it over with," Hardy murmured, "so you'll stop worrying."

His dark head bent. He eased his mouth over mine. I put my fists between us, my arms clasped over my chest in a tight blockade. I couldn't make myself push him away, but neither could I let him hold me full-on. His arms went around me, the embrace firm but gentle, as if he were being mindful not to crush me. Our breath mingled, heat surging in restless rhythms.

His mouth shifted, catching at my top lip, then the lower one, opening them. Every time I thought the kiss might stop, it went on longer, deeper, and the back of my throat tingled as if I were being fed something sweet. I felt the silken stroke of his tongue . . . a soft taste . . . another . . . I went weak against him, dissolving in sensation.

His tenderness disarmed me until I almost forgot about the knot of fear in my stomach. I stood there breathing him, feeling him . . . but he was all around me, he could overpower me so easily if he chose. I couldn't handle feeling that defenseless, no matter how gentle he was. Turning my mouth away from his, I broke the kiss with a whimper.