Beneath These Lies (Beneath, #5)(22)

“Thank God,” I whispered.

Rix spun and stalked toward me. “It ain’t God you should be thanking, duchess. I’m the one making this happen. And I don’t use this much effort for anyone without a damn good reason.”

Anger overwhelmed the fear that had gripped me. “She got into this because of one of your people!”

He stopped in front of me. “She made her own choice to get involved with him.”

“That’s bull. Besides, you have to get her back to cover your own ass.”

“I don’t have to do shit.” Rix’s chin lifted with the proclamation.

“So you’re saying that I’m the only reason you’re bothering to get her back?” I demanded.

He crouched down, a hand on the quilt on either side of my hips. “Glad you’re finally catching on.”

I didn’t like that explanation. I wanted Rix invested on every level. Glancing up at him, I met his gaze. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything except you’re not gonna let that cop put his lips on you again.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Palm shooting out, I slapped against his shoulder, and surprisingly, he stood and stepped back.

Rix crossed his arms. “You want your girl back? You do what I want.”

My glare should have shriveled vital parts of his anatomy. “So it’s going to be like that, then? You already gave me your word that you’d get her home safe. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

His eyebrows drew together. “You don’t question a man’s word, duchess. That’s dangerous territory.”

“But you said—”

“You goin’ out with the cop again, or not?”

I thought of Hennessy’s promise to stop by the gallery and set up a date. Honesty won out. “Probably.”

The muscle in Rix’s jaw tightened and he dropped his arms, taking one step forward and leaning down. “Don’t.” The word came out on a growl, and yet I still felt no fear.

“I—” Whatever I was going to say died when Rix’s head dipped toward me.

“I’m taking my shot, not asking for it,” he murmured before his lips took mine. There was no warm-up, no coaxing. Just . . . conquering.

I went with it, opening my mouth to his tongue and letting him in. My hands had their own agenda, gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer, wanting more. How long had it been since I’d felt that wanting? That absolute need to feel someone’s skin on mine?

Rix’s fingers buried in my hair, tilting my head one way and then the other, changing angles, going deeper. I wanted more, needed more.

But he pulled back.

“Gotta stop or I won’t. Got shit to do. I need to go.” He pushed away from the wall and headed for the door.

“You have shit to do? You have to go? That’s how you’re going to leave it?” I asked, my tone incredulous.

The man had just kissed me like I’d never been kissed before, and he pulled away like I was a leper. Did I forget how to kiss? I knew it had been a while, but was I that bad? Hell.

“You get that you’re mine?” he asked.

“I don’t—”

“Yes or no, Valentina. It’s not a hard question.”

“I don’t know,” I yelled, pushing up off the bed and striding toward him. “You confuse the hell out of me, and even though you should scare me, you don’t. And you make me think about wanting things I shouldn’t—” I cut my rant off short as soon as I realized my filter had slipped, and I was so freaking confused, brutal honesty win out.

Rix inhaled sharply, alerting me to the fact that my hand was pressed against his chest and I’d backed him into a corner. Before I could move it, his wide palm covered mine and held it in place. My gaze clashed with his, and neither of us moved.

“You’ve got good instincts, duchess. I should scare the hell out of you, and you absolutely shouldn’t want a goddamned thing to do with me. And you should definitely never trust me.”

I choked out a surprised laugh. “That’s your pitch? After telling me you want me, you tell me I should be scared and shouldn’t want you or trust you?”

“Tell me to go right now.”

My brain struggled to keep up with him. “You want me to tell you to go?”

“No, but you should. Because if you don’t, I’m gonna be inside you tonight, and you’re not ready for that.”

Was he right? My body was dying for his touch, but he was absolutely not the guy I should be wanting. And as much as the devil on my shoulder urged me to take a risk and tell him to stay, I couldn’t do it.

Why were the words so hard to say?

“Then go.”

He nodded and turned away without another word. My staircase creaked as he hit certain steps. I listened for more sounds of his departure but heard nothing. The alarm didn’t go off, but the house was silent.

What the hell was I going to do about him?

Just like the last night he’d left me at my house, the urge to paint flooded me. I should have been falling flat on my face in bed because I hadn’t slept in a day, but instead I was hypercharged by the desire that Rix had ignited within me.

I stripped off the robe in favor of leggings and a T-shirt, and checked every room in the house to see if he was really gone. He was. I told myself I wasn’t disappointed as I headed to my studio.