Wicked Burn(31)

“This area is pretty dodgy for a woman to be living in by herself, isn’t it?” Vic asked when they exited the stairwell on the fifth floor and Niall led him down an unfinished hallway. He chose to ignore the irritated glance that she tossed over her shoulder. Women tended to hate it when a guy said things like that, but hell . . . it was a real concern, wasn’t it? Any * could have stopped that door from closing just as Vic had a few moments ago, and had Niall at his mercy in the vacant building.

“The warehouse district has the lowest crime rate in the entire city,” she stated as she inserted her key into one of the doors.

“Not surprising, seeing as how it has the same population as Mars,” he responded mildly.

She pressed her lips together and pushed open the door. “The neighborhood looks a little rough, but that doesn’t mean that drug dealers and gangbangers are hiding around every corner. Real estate in the West Loop is an excellent investment, given the number of people who want to live downtown these days and the limited supply of property and residences.”

She paused to face him just inside the doorway. He liked the fire flashing in her eyes in response to his smugness.

Christ . . . Niall’s eyes. Distilled soul fire. Two and a half days, and he’d forgotten just how explosive an impact they had on him.

He forced himself to look away and examine the space where they stood, sure that if he kept staring at Niall, he’d have her flat on her back on the dusty, unfinished wood floor in two seconds flat.

“Sounds like you’ve done some research into the matter,” he conceded as he walked around slowly, examining the space. The interior wasn’t finished, of course, and the floor was cluttered with lumber, sheets of drywall, and crates of various building supplies. But what he saw, he liked. Eleven-foot ceilings and plenty of windows. The far wall opened onto an enormous outdoor terrace. It would be a bitch to heat in a Chicago winter, but the east-facing view of the skyline was completely unhindered by a single obstacle.

“It’s going to be entirely open on this level?” he asked.

“Yes, except for the powder room and closets,” Niall replied from behind him, her voice warming at what obviously was a favorite topic. “It’s a soft loft design. I’ve got twelve hundred feet downstairs and another thousand upstairs for the bedrooms.” She raised an elegantly arched eyebrow at him in a subtle challenge when he turned to face her. “That’s another reason why buying into this ‘dodgy’ neighborhood was such a good idea. I never could have have afforded all of this wide-open living space if I bought a place in the Loop.”

Vic just smiled and headed up the stairs. “If you think this is wide-open space, then you should visit my ranch in Montana or my farm downstate.”

“Is that an invitation?”

When he heard the tone of her low, husky voice Vic gave up all pretense of being the friendly neighbor. He spun around on the stairs, hands on the railing, and leaned down over her upturned face.

“Was that?” he countered.

He watched as his innuendo registered in her consciousness and sexual awareness followed quickly on its heels. The tip of her tongue traced her lower lip in an anxious gesture, making him tighten with lust. The fact that she wanted him was just as obvious as ever, although not nearly as blatant as the stiff ridge of his cock as it pressed against the suddenly constraining fly of his jeans.

“Why did you tell me not to call you the other day?”

Her lips fell open in surprise at the harshness of his question. “I just didn’t want you to worry about me. Not that you would or anything,” she backpedaled quickly.

“What happened? Why were your parents so upset?”

“A . . . a family member had been hospitalized.”

Vic straightened from his predatory stance when he noticed her pallor. “Is she . . . he”—Vic paused, eyebrows raised until Niall nodded at his second guess—“going to be okay?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure that was all that was wrong, Niall?”

“Isn’t it enough?” she asked. For a few seconds she just stared at him silently.

“Why don’t you show me the wide-open space of your bedrooms?” Vic suggested eventually. He held out his hand to her. A measure of relief swept through him when the solemn expression on her face disappeared and she laughed.

“There isn’t much to see,” she teased as she moved past him down the hallway.

Vic smiled, his eyes lowering to the sexy sway of the shapeliest little ass he’d ever seen. He begged to differ. In his opinion, there were plenty of prime views around here. His cock surged uncomfortably when he thought about spanking that butt several days ago.

Niall proudly gave him the tour of her condo. He listened silently while she enthusiastically detailed what the finishes would look like in each room. Vic was glad to see that the construction so far looked like quality work. So many of the firms that put up condos in downtown Chicago utilized cheap materials and shoddy labor and got away with it easily because of the high demand in the market.

Niall exclaimed in surprised pleasure when they entered the master suite a few minutes later and she saw that the walls had been freshly painted and carpeting installed.

“Give me your keys for a few minutes,” Vic requested once they’d examined the half-finished, luxurious master bath.