That uncomfortable feeling in his chest twisted again, his own point of weakness. Letting her sleep would be a stupid idea and yet …
You can’t get all pussy-ass now.
Wolf nearly growled. Did it matter if he let her get an hour or two of sleep? Hell, if she was well rested, she might take to the seduction even better than if she was sleepy.
You’re lying to yourself.
Yeah and that fucking voice could shut the hell up. If she wanted some sleep, he’d let her sleep. It was probably the last time she’d have anything like peace, that was for sure.
“Tired?” he asked out loud. “Perhaps you should take a nap before you go home. It’s a work day after all.”
Leaning forward, Olivia put her glass on the coffee table before sitting back against the couch and yawning again. “Maybe I should.” She gave him a small smile. “Getting kidnapped at four in the morning takes it out of a girl.”
“I’m not sorry.” He wasn’t and not only because of his mission, surprisingly enough. He’d enjoyed this little interlude, especially after the past few weeks since Noah died. Just sitting here, talking to her like they used to.
Her small smile widened. “I’m not sorry either.”
That feeling in his chest shifted and he put his hand on his heart, rubbing absently at the ache there. Her gaze followed the movement of his hand, lingering there before darting away again.
She cleared her throat. “Maybe a nap wouldn’t hurt.”
Wolf kept his hand where it was and sure enough, she glanced at his chest again, as if she couldn’t help herself. “Feel free to use the bedroom. I’ll wake you in say, twenty minutes?” He wouldn’t wake her. He’d leave her to sleep for however long she wanted to and figure out how to deal with her inevitable freak-out later.
“That would be great.” She pushed herself off the couch then paused, and this time looked right at him. “Thanks for the chat, Wolf. It’s really nice to see you again. And I mean that. Really nice.”
That made him feel weird too, because when she found out the truth of why he was here, she wouldn’t think it was so nice. Yet right now her expression was very open, very honest. And it was clear she meant every word.
The only person in his life who’d ever been genuine with him, and now he was going to use her.
He rubbed at his chest again, trying to get rid of the weakness that was eating away at him. Because it didn’t matter if she’d always been honest with him or not. His father’s death needed avenging. And then there was his mother …
Anyway, he wasn’t going to hurt her, only seduce her. And he’d make it good for her. Sex was something he was very, very good at indeed.
“It’s nice to see you too,” he said, meeting her gaze and holding it, wanting her to know he was genuine about this at least. “I’ve missed talking to you.”
She looked embarrassed and pleased at the same time, which he found oddly appealing. “Oh, me too. Email really doesn’t cut it.”
There was a moment’s awkward silence, which he made no effort to break since he wasn’t the one being awkward and he kind of liked that she was. Even though he had no idea why.
Olivia clasped her hands together. “Well, okay. I’d better take that nap then.”
“Yeah, go on. I’ll wake you in twenty.”
She gave him a smile then turned and headed toward the bedroom.
He watched her, rubbing at the ache in his chest that refused to go away.
* * *
Olivia woke up dry-mouthed and muzzy, and with the beginnings of what felt like a major a headache. For a long moment, she lay on the very comfortable bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out where she was, because she definitely wasn’t at home.
Then slowly a memory filtered through, of being kidnapped by Wolf. Of the hotel room he’d brought her to and … Oh God, the two glasses of pink champagne she’d polished off.
Great. No wonder her mouth felt like the bottom of a birdcage.
Sighing, she turned over onto her side and contemplated getting up. Then caught a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand. And the time displayed on it.
Oh shit. It was ten a.m.
She sat bolt upright then pushed herself off the bed, having to pause a moment to catch her breath as a wave of dizziness hit.
Hell, what had she been thinking? Drinking at … what? Five in the morning? That wasn’t like her, even given Wolf’s distracting presence.
And speaking of, why hadn’t he woken her up? He’d told her he was going to give her twenty minutes.
Annoyed, Olivia strode to the bedroom door, then stopped.
Wolf was standing in the living area—still shirtless, damn the man—looking down at a hotel trolley that had a number of plates with silver covers sitting on top of it. He was in the process of lifting one of the covers to reveal a stack of very crispy bacon and sausages. The smell hit her almost as soon as she saw the food and yet far from making her sick, she was conscious that she was, in fact, very hungry.
Still. Ten a.m. Her father would be beside himself.
She opened her mouth to ask Wolf why he’d let her sleep so long, but he forestalled her.
“I called your father,” he said without looking round. “I told him you were taking the day off. He wasn’t happy, but he’s okay with it. So why don’t you sit down and have some breakfast?”
She frowned, her head still a little fuzzy. “You called Dad?
Replacing the cover on the plate, he turned and gave her a lazy grin. “I thought you could do with the sleep, so I gave him a call.”
Olivia didn’t know what to say. She’d been expecting all this time to rush home before her father realized she was gone, and now … well. There was no rush. And she could have the whole day off.
An uneasy feeling shifted in her gut and it wasn’t the wine this time. She didn’t take weekends and she very rarely took a vacation, mostly because she never knew what to do with herself.
Managing the household and her father’s social and business engagements, plus handling his financial investments and a couple of his side projects, was a busy job and she liked it. It made her feel useful and she knew her father appreciated it hugely, which she also liked.
But she wasn’t sure she liked having a day to simply sit around in a hotel room with Wolf.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “But I’ll just have breakfast, if you don’t mind. I really do need to go home. Dad might not mind me having the day off, but I have a ton of things to do that can’t wait.”
Wolf was silent, his smile fading, leaving an indecipherable expression on his face. Then he turned back to the trolley. There were a couple of clean coffee mugs on it, plus a big stainless steel pot that had to contain coffee.
He picked up the pot. “There’s another reason I want you to stay.” Carefully he poured the steaming black liquid into the two mugs. “You know how I said that I didn’t want to talk about Dad’s death? Well, I changed my mind.” Putting down the pot, he glanced at her again, and this time there was no smile on his rough, handsome face. His eyes glittered with something she couldn’t quite place, whether it was anger or grief, or a complicated mixture of the two, she didn’t know. “I think maybe I do want to talk about it.”
Her heart clenched. He wasn’t an easy man to read, she remembered that from years ago. Most of the time he was laid back and relaxed, and but there were times when that chilled-out exterior would drop and she’d catch a glimpse of something else behind those mismatched eyes of his. Something that looked a lot like anger.
She didn’t blame him if so. Noah Tate was a bastard of the first degree, and the way he treated Wolf made her sick. But since Wolf never talked about it, she’d never pressed, mostly because she’d only been fifteen and hadn’t known what to say to him.
She wasn’t fifteen now though, and the thought that he finally wanted to talk to her about his father made her throat constrict painfully.
Olivia moved away from the doorway
, coming over to where he stood. She looked up at him, barely aware of his half-naked body right now, her attention entirely on that strange combination of emotions in his eyes. “You know I’m here if you want to talk, Wolf. But there’s no pressure if you don’t, okay?” She reached out and touched his arm lightly in an unconscious gesture of comfort. Only to have the heat of his bare skin tingle against her fingertips, making her want to snatch her hand back again.
He didn’t move and yet she saw something in his eyes flare, something that wasn’t the anger or grief or whatever it was that had been there a moment earlier. And suddenly the air between them was full of tension, thick and electric and somehow confusing.
Seconds before, she’d forgotten he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Now, awareness poured through her. Of how close he was. Of how tall and broad he was, and how fragile and small she felt next to him. Of his tanned skin and the fascinating designs inked into it. Of his dog tags hanging between his pecs, the metal shining as a ray of weak winter sunlight caught it.
He smelled good, of cedar and leather, with a musky, masculine undertone that was all him.
Olivia swallowed. This was wrong. Wrong to be feeling this while he was grieving and wanting to talk. Wrong to be so aware of him physically. He was her friend, nothing more and she really needed to get a damn grip.
She took her hand from his arm, hoping it looked like a measured movement and not because touching him was doing crazy things to her heartbeat. Only to have him catch her hand as it dropped, his long fingers wrapping around hers.
“Are you sure?” His voice was low and rough, the look in his eyes making the breath catch in her throat. “I know this has been a shock. Me basically kidnapping you and then taking you here. I just … want to talk to you. In person. And un-fucking-interrupted for a change.”
Her brain was operating way too slowly and she couldn’t think of what to say. All she seemed to be aware of was that he was holding her hand, making heat rise up her arm and into the rest of her body. A wild, restless heat that was totally unfamiliar to her.
She’d never felt this before, not even that last day in the library, when she waited there until after his meeting with her father, hoping desperately that he’d accept her father’s offer of a job and sanctuary, and deciding not to leave until she knew what he was going to do.
Hearing her father’s office door close, she’d darted into the hallway to find Wolf standing there with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and his normal easygoing smile nowhere to be seen. She’d seen the anger in his eyes then, loud and clear, though all he’d said was, “I’m sorry, Liv. I can’t stay. I’m enlisting tomorrow.”
She’d been so disappointed, trying not to burst into tears in front of him and failing. He’d taken her in his arms—he’d only ever touched her one other time—and given her a hug, whispering to her that he was sorry, but it had to be this way.
And she … well, that hug had been the most confusing thing to ever happen to her. There had been something about the heat of his body and the feel of it against hers, about the strength of his arms holding her, and the warmth of his breath in her hair that had made her pulse race. Made her shiver for reasons her sixteen-year-old self couldn’t fathom.
But now … she knew what it meant now.
She swallowed, resisting the urge to pull her hand away from his. Not wanting to give herself away more than she already had.
Oh come on. He already knows. You’ve never been very good at hiding how you feel.
She looked away, letting her hand rest in his and trying not to pay any attention to her racing heartbeat. “Okay,” she said, her voice sounding far more husky than she wanted it to. “Let’s have that coffee then and we can talk.”
But he didn’t let her hand go. Instead she felt one long finger catch her beneath the chin, turning her head back to meet his gaze. “Hey, what’s up?” he murmured. “You’re blushing.”
No kidding. She tightened her jaw and steeled herself to give him a steady, level look back, as if nothing was wrong, nothing at all. But that stare of his was mesmerizing. She’d always loved how he had one blue eye and one green. Heterochromia it was called, or that’s what he’d told her when she’d asked about it once. Not that it mattered what it was called. She simply found it beautiful, that crystalline blue matched with the leaf green, the colors vivid through his long dark lashes …
His mouth curved. “Liv? You can answer any time.”
Oh, right. He’d asked her a question and now she was staring at him like a lunatic.
A question he already knows the answer to, come on.
A wave of sudden annoyance caught at her, partly driven by her own helpless reaction to him, because yes, of course he knew. He must. He wasn’t stupid, no matter that he always talked his own intelligence down, and neither was she.
“You know why I’m blushing already.” The words were out before she could stop herself.
His eyes widened, which made a small part of her very satisfied that she could surprise him. Because really, she was getting tired of being the only one who was flustered. She didn’t like how out of control it made her feel, and come to think of it, she was starting to feel a bit peeved that she didn’t rock his world in quite the same way as he rocked hers.
She stared back at him, making no move to pull away. There was no point now, not if he knew how he affected her anyway.
“Yeah,” he said slowly, searching her face. “I guess I do.”
“So why ask me then?”
He didn’t let go of her hand and that finger under her chin stayed exactly where it was. Her heartbeat was banging like a damn drum in her head, and she wanted to pull away with just about every part of her.
But something small and defiant and stubborn held her still.
“Maybe I wanted to check something.” The finger beneath her chin moved, trailing very lightly down her neck. Goose bumps erupted all over her skin and it was all she could do not to gasp or take a quick step back.
“Check what?” Shivers of excitement were chasing all over her skin and her voice sounded husky. And it annoyed her. What was he doing? What was he looking for? An admission that she was attracted to him? If so, why?
His finger paused in the hollow of her throat and she knew he could feel her pulse. And that it was fast. Too fast.
His gaze held hers, intense all of a sudden. “It’s been six months since I’ve been with anyone, Liv.”
Wait, what? Was that an … invitation?
No, it couldn’t be. He didn’t feel that way about her. He was her friend and he’d never done anything to make her think he felt anything more for her. She didn’t want to go there, she just didn’t.
Swallowing, she said, “I thought you wanted to talk about your father?”
“Yeah, well, maybe I changed my mind.” His finger moved lightly on her skin in a gentle stroking motion, while his gaze dropped down to her white nightgown. “Maybe I want to do something else.”
Something else …
Olivia jerked away from him before she was even conscious of doing so, taking a couple of steps back to put some distance between them. She was breathless, her heart raging behind her ribs, her pulse rocketing, and her skin strangely hot and tight. “I don’t … know what you’re talking about.” Her voice sounded thick and unsteady.
Wolf stared at her. “You know what I’m talking about, Liv. I think we both know what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, and I thought I was your friend.” She couldn’t get her breathing under control or her heartbeat. “Was that why you brought me here? To … to…”
“To what? Fuck you?”
She’d long gotten used to Wolf’s filthy mouth, but hearing that word in conjunction with herself made a hot, electric thrill shoot straight down her spine.
He couldn’t mean it, though. The whole thing was too weird. The kidnap, the hustling into the hotel, and then the strange questions he’d asked her. Not to mention the look on his face when she’
d stupidly thought the champagne and the candles had meant something else.
She couldn’t afford to believe he could mean it.
“No,” she said, hating the way the word came out so shakily. “You don’t want that. It doesn’t make any sense. You said this wasn’t a date.”
The intensity of his gaze felt like it was burning right through her. “It’s not. I never fuck on a first date.”
Again that hot thrill, and this time moving lower, between her thighs. Her brain was going places she didn’t want it to go, sending images she didn’t want to see rioting through her mind. Wolf naked. Wolf touching her. Wolf fucking on the first date. Wolf fucking her …
“No,” she repeated, shaking her head violently. “No.”
There was a tense, heavy silence.
Then he was moving toward her, fast and fluid, and she only had time to stumble back a few steps before he was right there in front of her. He grabbed her hand and, before she could stop him, brought her palm flat to his chest, right over his left pec, pressing it down onto his skin. “You want me, Liv. I know you do. I can see it in your eyes.”
She froze, what little breath she had left rushing out of her.
He’s correct. You do.
But not like this. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it.
He made no move to do anything else, merely held her hand against him, that intense uneven gaze holding hers.
The heat of his body was blistering. Hard, muscle. Tanned skin slightly roughened with hair. The steady, slow beat of his heart.
She’d been so good, so careful. She’d never imagined touching him, because she wasn’t a masochist. It was bad enough being hopelessly in love with him let alone to fantasize about anything else.
But now she was touching him and it was …
No. No, she couldn’t do this. It was too close to what she desperately wanted and it was becoming obvious to her that she was simply a convenient body. He didn’t want her. If in fact it was actually sex he wanted in the first place.
She jerked her hand away from the furnace of his naked chest.
Only for him to take one step even closer, his other hand sliding into her hair, his big palm cradling the back of her head, his fingers pressing gently against her skull. Then before she could react, he lowered his head, and that wide, beautiful mouth was on hers.
The Undercover Billionaire Page 7
