by Desiree Holt
He shrugged. “Fine by me.” He lifted an eyebrow as the bartender set another full glass in front of her. “Celebrating? Or drowning your sorrows?”
“Neither. Just…” She searched for the right word but couldn’t find one. “Just drinking.”
“I hate to tell you, but you don’t look like you’re enjoying it very much.”
Taylor turned to face him and found herself captured again by the darkness of his eyes.
Eyes without a soul. Now, where did that come from? “On the contrary. I’m having a wonderful time.” She took a healthy swallow of her new drink and nearly choked again. She grabbed her water glass and drained it.
“Mm-hmm. That’s certainly pleasure I see on your face.”
He was beginning to get on her nerves. “You sure are nosy.” She had to turn away from his penetrating gaze. “I’d say it’s distressing to find out after thirty years that your life has been a lie and the one relative you seem to have left denies your existence. Take it from me. Fairy tales don’t really exist.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds pretty serious.”
Anger reached up through her again. Serious was hardly the word to describe her sense of betrayal. All those years of toeing the line. Of stifling rules and the short tether. Of a life with little pleasure, striving for approval that never came. Of her mother’s deep sadness and her grandparents’ autocratic grip on her and her mother’s lives. She felt as if someone had stolen the past thirty years from her, years that were gone forever. Now, she wanted rebellion and payback.
“I’m scrubbing away my past and saying hello to the first day of the rest of my life. Creating the new me.”
Because the old me was the product of a lie and very boring.
Taylor resisted the urge to slip her hand into her jacket pocket, pull out the sheet of paper and re-read the damning words. It didn’t matter. She had them memorized.
I realize now it was a mistake to conceal this from you all these years. You must believe our intentions were nothing but the best. But you know what they say about good intentions. They certainly paved the road to hell for all of us.
The man finished his drink and signaled for a refill. “You don’t look like someone with a past they need to be rid of.”
“Shows you how much you know.” Taylor swallowed the last drops in her glass and the tension in her body eased just a little more. The whiskey was beginning to work its magic on her. The anger still simmered, though. That wouldn’t go away any time soon.
“What brings you to San Antonio?”
A bad decision. It isn’t every day I get thrown out of corporate offices like some criminal or piece of street trash.
“It’s personal.” So just shut up and leave me alone. She waved at the bartender for another refill. Maybe with enough of the liquor in her system she could forget her pain altogether.
“I take it things didn’t go well.” He picked up his fresh drink and swallowed some of it.
“You could say that. In fact, you could say not going well is a major understatement.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Sure. Too bad.” The whiskey in the glass sloshed slightly as she picked it up and licked the drops off her hand.
“Maybe you’d better make this your last one. I’d hate to see you try to drive home after one too many.”
She turned angry eyes on him. “Listen, Whoever-you-are, I’m old enough to know how much to drink. I don’t need a babysitter. And I’m staying here in the hotel, so if I pass out, I don’t have far to go.” She stared at him, then shook her head and raked her fingers through her hair. “Sorry. That was rude of me. I’m just in a rotten mood tonight.”
He reached out to lay a hand on her forearm and even through the layers of fabric his fingers felt like branding irons on her skin. A tiny jolt of electricity sparked its way through her body.
He narrowed his gaze. She saw that he felt it, too. They stared at each other for a long moment. He broke the eye contact first. “Maybe talking to someone will help.”
Yes. Talk to me so I can find out what’s really going on in that pretty head of yours.
He tilted his glass and took another swallow of his club soda. No alcohol for him tonight. He had a mission and he couldn’t afford to have his senses dulled. If he wished for anything, it was that she’d been ugly and abrasive. Someone he could easily dislike. Why does she have to be such an appealing package?
He was already regretting his decision to come here. There were other ways to accomplish the same thing. He should have taken them. Women like her were dangerous to him. Too soft. Too appealing. Too easy to let in under the barriers. And therein lay disaster.
He’d already been through it once. That was enough for him. No, he needed to keep his walls securely in place and sitting here with this woman wasn’t the way to make sure that happened.
Finish your drink and go away, he wanted to tell her. Leave this bar, this hotel, this city. Hide yourself away from me and don’t ever come back.
For the first time in years, he craved a real drink.
She took another swallow of her whiskey. “You can’t do anything about the years I’ve lost. Or make my own flesh and blood accept me.”
“So, this is about family problems?”
She gave a short, bitter laugh. “It would be if I had any family.” She downed the rest of her drink and signaled for yet another one. They were going down more easily now.
“I know I’m just a stranger in a bar,” he went on, “and no one you should take orders from, so consider this a suggestion. I think you should make this next drink your last.”
“Thanks, but I’ll decide when I’ve had enough.” And that might be sooner rather than later.
Taylor concentrated on finishing the drink, the letter still burning a hole in her pocket. The man just watched her with those deep black eyes. Finally, she swallowed the last of the whiskey and gestured toward the bartender for her check. She had no problem signing it, but when she tried to move off her stool she nearly dumped herself on the floor.
Strong hands caught and lifted her. “How about if I walk you to the elevator? Just to make sure you get through the lobby all right.”
“I’m not drunk,” she insisted. “Just a little…weak in the knees.” And she wanted him to keep those hands on her, to touch her, to bring back that electric spark.
The ghost of a smile whispered over his mouth again. “Understandable if you’ve had a bad day. Come on. Let me prove that chivalry isn’t dead.”
He took her arm and led her out of the bar, his impressive height making her feel secure for some reason. They walked to the elevator with his arm around her, steadying her. Taylor leaned in to him and caught his scent, spice mixed with a maleness that somehow reminded her of jungles. Or what she thought jungles would smell like. Panther. She felt the taut muscles of his body through their clothing and wondered what he’d be like naked.
As fast as the thought hit her, she tried to brush it away. Taylor Scott didn’t entertain images of naked men. She even had sex with all the lights out.
If you can call the few fumbling and embarrassing attempts sex.
“What floor?”
“Hmm?” She raised heavy-lidded eyes to him.
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About the Author
A multi-published, award winning, Amazon and USA Today best-selling author, Desiree Holt has produced more than 200 titles and won many awards. She has received an EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and many others including Author After Dark’s Author of the Year. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The London Daily Mail. She lives in Florida with her cats who insist they help her write her books, and is addicted to football.
Email: [email protected]
Desiree loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.
/> Also by Desiree Holt
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Beg Me
Down and Dirty
Interlude
Intermission
Four Play
Game On
Swingtime
Party of Three
All Jacked Up
Top or Bottom
Rodeo Heat
Strike Force: Unconditional Surrender
The Sentinels: The Edge of Morning
The Sentinels: Night Moves
The Sentinels: Dark Stranger
The Sentinels: Animal Instinct
The Sentinels: Mated
The Sentinels: Silent Hunters
Cat’s Eyes: Pretty Kitty
Cat’s Eyes: On the Prowl
Corporate Heat: Where Danger Hides
Night of the Senses: Carnal Caresses
Christmas Goes Camo: Melting the Ice
Treble: Trouble at the Treble T
Subspace: Head Games
Bound to the Billionaire: Made for Him
Three’s a Charm: Double Entry
Heatwave: Summer Spice
Feral: Black Cat Fever
Clandestine Classics: Northanger Abbey
