Burn for Me (Hidden Legacy #1)(87)

“Do it again, and I will hurt you.”

The phantom touch slowly melted away and part of me wanted to follow, wherever it was going.

Mad Rogan was walking next to me with that same confident stride that had made me notice him back in the arboretum, and I knew precisely where he was and how much distance separated us. My whole body was focused on him. I wanted him to touch me. I didn’t want him touching me. I was waiting for him to touch me. I didn’t know what the hell I wanted.

“Did you like the carnations?”

I reached into my pocket and handed him a small red card. “Texas Children’s Hospital is grateful to you for your generous donation. Thanks to you, every one of their rooms has beautiful flowers this morning. They think it might be at least partially tax deductible, and if your people talk to their people, the hospital will provide the necessary paperwork.”

Mad Rogan took the card, brushing my hand with his warm, dry fingers. The card shot out of his hand and landed in the nearby trash bin.

My skin tingled where he’d touched me. This was some kind of torture.

A black Audi sat in a parking spot about twenty feet away. A wide, elegant car, it seemed to imply power and quiet aggression. It was the kind of car a rich man would buy when he decided his adolescent-dream Maserati was too flashy.

“Is that an A8 L Security series?” His Range Rover was armored. I seriously doubted the Audi wouldn’t be. Most Houses owned several armored cars. That’s what kept Grandma Frida in business.

“It’s an A8 customized.” Mad Rogan touched the car door and the engine purred in response. “I’ve made some modifications.”

Of course he had. I slid into the leather passenger seat. The cabin was surprisingly roomy, all sophisticated lines and sleek design, clean, elegant, and efficient. Nice.

Rogan pulled out of the parking lot. The car practically glided. The luxury aspect of the car didn’t do that much for me, but the quality was really nice. Grandma once told me that it took almost five hundred man-hours to assemble one of these, and it showed. He drove it well too. No matter what they tell you, a high-performance luxury car didn’t handle like a typical sedan, and an armored luxury car didn’t handle like one either.

“Did you want something more maneuverable for the city?” I asked. Not that there was anything wrong with the Range Rover.

“Yes. You never know, we might encounter squirrels.”

The Audi slid into traffic.

“We should have sex.”

I must’ve misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”

He glanced at me. His blue eyes were warm, as if heated from within. Wow.

“I said, we should have sex. You and me.”

“No.” Alarm made me sit up straighter.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. Has it been so long since you heard the word that you might have forgotten what it meant?” Okay, that was probably rude. I had to keep this as professional as possible. Calm, just very calm and firm.

“I’m attracted to you.” His voice was confident and assured, as if this whole conversation was simply a formality and he knew he would win in the end. “I know you’re attracted to me.”

Just had to rub it in, did he?

“We’re both consenting adults. Why wouldn’t we have sex?”

Because you’re dangerous as hell, you scare me, and because it would be mind-blowingly good. Which would mean I would want more and more and I really, really can’t afford to fall in love with you. “Because we don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“I’m suggesting we change our relationship.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

He glanced at me again, his face slightly wolfish. He was giving me just a hint of that intensity, a tiny glimpse of what it would be like. It was more seductive than Adam stripping completely naked. I had to be careful, so, so careful . . .

“I think it’s an excellent idea,” Mad Rogan said.

“I don’t even know you. I don’t trust you.”

“You trusted me with your life just yesterday,” he said.

“We were in a life-threatening situation and it was in your interests to keep me alive. By the same criteria, the men with whom you served trusted you with their lives daily. Did you all have sex as well? It must’ve been an interesting army unit.”

“So you want seduction? Dinners, flowers, gifts?” His voice hinted at a mild disapproval.

“No.”

“Seduction is a game,” Rogan said. “You dazzle, entice, and finally seduce. Both parties know what is happening, but they go through the motions anyway. If you pay enough of the right commodity—attention, flattery, money—you will get the desired result. I thought you were above the game.”

“I don’t want to play the game.”

“You want me, Nevada. You thought about it, you imagined it, and you probably touched yourself while you pictured it.”

Oh my God. He just went there.

“Have sex with me, Nevada. You will enjoy it.”

“Do you know what I want? I want a human connection. I want to be in bed with someone who is worth being with.”

“And I’m not?” A dangerous intensity crept into his voice. I might have pushed things a little too far.