Rand watched the woman with increasing interest as she turned the letter opener over in her hand. The piece was fashioned out of platinum, and the small diamonds in the handle were real. Granted, even the most inexperienced petty thief would know that, and he was beginning to suspect Dani Michaels was nothing if not experienced.
The thought tempted him more than it should.
She swung her gaze up to him even as she stepped back, but she didn’t drop the ornately curved knife. “I can’t imagine my personal history is relevant,” she said.
“You’re not employed by the Palm D’Or Gallery.”
Her smile was noncommittal. “I do a lot of freelance.”
“There was not another buyer for the painting.”
“That’s simply you making a guess.” She tilted her head, regarding him coolly. “Is there a point to this?”
“Must there always be a point?”
“Saves time.”
“I believed what you told me.”
“A lot of people do.” The words were not spoken with pride or even much emotion, and certainly not with any apology. If anything, the woman straightened a little, an actress receiving her bouquet of roses on opening night. She turned away from him then and drifted through the open expanse of his office, her gaze running over his casually strewn treasures—including the tiny crystal figurines that had been his mother’s favorite possession. Other than the obviously pricey letter opener, he didn’t know for sure if she had any idea of the real worth of the contents of his office. He only had a record of the crimes for which Miss Michaels had been caught, after all—and those had been years ago. Perhaps she’d refined both her game and her tastes in the intervening years. And he certainly had believed her little act, back in the Palm D’Or. With her large, dark eyes and her smooth, olive-toned skin, her dark hair scraped back into a tight black chignon and her long, lean body encased in leather, she’d looked like exactly what he’d supposed she was: an employee of some forgettable Boylston Street art gallery where he’d sheltered for a few minutes with Catherine just as the wind had turned fierce.
When such a low-level employee had dismissed him as an irrelevant roadblock in her rush to take a painting off the wall, he should have suspected something was off. Instead, he’d allowed himself to get drawn into her charade, enjoying it more than he should have. And the painting had been intriguing, yes. It still was, thankfully enough. But he hadn’t bought the thing to show his dominance, as Dani Michaels clearly thought. He’d bought it to extend the dance.
Because she was here, after all.
His gaze flickered over her.
“What’s your relationship with the painter?”
“Once again, I don’t see how that matters.”
“You’re her friend, surely.”
“I’d never met her before in my life.”
Rand smiled, wondering at the edge to the woman’s voice. “Why are you fighting me?”
Her smile was instant, and it warmed her entire face. “This isn’t fighting,” she said, gesturing with a now empty hand. He’d somehow missed her slipping the letter opener into her purse, but he had no doubt that she’d done so. “It’s not even good conversation. If we’re through, however, I’m happy to leave. As you pointed out to your assistant, the weather is only getting worse.”
As if to punctuate her words, the wind chose that moment to batter against the plate-glass windows in sharp, percussive bursts. Rand didn’t miss the woman’s shiver. “You don’t like storms?”
“I like them just fine.” She turned to the windows as she spoke, so Rand couldn’t tell if she was lying. “But this isn’t my only engagement this evening, and I do need to be on my way.”
The spear of emotion that twisted inside Rand at her words was unwelcome, but he faced it anyway. He was jealous. Jealous of whomever else claimed this woman’s time, and he barely knew her. “I can take you there,” he said, his words mild, betraying none of the desire that was creeping up within him, setting fire to his blood.
“That’s not necessary.” He could hear the smile in her voice, but she didn’t turn from the window. Interesting. He took the opportunity to regard her a little longer. The woman’s back was exquisite through the tight compression of her long-sleeved dress. Strong, but not overly muscled. Her waist was narrow, her ass rounded, and her legs long but not hammered into hard planes. She wore her platform heels easily, and her dress had the air of an expensive boutique. She wore no jewelry, and today her thick fall of dark hair was trapped in a simple barrette. Everything about her announced that she was a professional.
But a professional what?
“Miss Michaels.”
“I really must be going.” Dani turned, offering a smile. She had a clear run at the door, and she gestured to the painting. “I hope you enjoy it.”
“Let me get you a receipt.”
“That’s not—”
“I insist.” Rand turned to his desk, swiveling the notepad around and tearing free a loose sheet. He jotted down a quick note of thanks, signed and dated it. Dani had followed him to the desk.
“Truly, it isn’t necessary, Mr. Winston,” she said as he handed it to her. She opened her purse, and he heard the telltale buzz of her silenced phone. She didn’t even look at it, but the effect it had on her was instantaneous, her artfully easy manner now going tight as a drum.
“Necessary,” he mused, and something in his voice made her glance up sharply. The shiver of control it took for her to not step back from him was obvious, but Rand wasn’t about to let her get away a second time. “And do you always do only what is necessary?”
“Saves time,” she said again. But her eyes were on his lips, and he felt the attraction between them like a living thing. He lifted a hand, and while her body didn’t flinch, her eyes did.
Another surge of emotion blazed through him, this one hotter, less controlled. He didn’t understand that flinch of hers, the reflex she could not quite quell. But he knew the reaction wasn’t about him, and he wanted her to only think of him in this moment—to have the same intensity of emotion, the same nerves, the same trepidation, even a little fear. He didn’t mind her fearing him. He expected it. But the nature of that fear was what intrigued him.
“Ah, fuck it,” Dani said, startling him again. She stepped into his body, reaching up to draw his head toward hers. “I don’t have all goddamned night.”
She kissed him, hard, and the spears of desire touched together at their tips, igniting Rand with need. Still, he didn’t move forward, just let Dani pull him closer in, sensing that the deepening of the kiss was something she hadn’t planned for. His hands went naturally to her waist and felt large against the curve of her hips, anchoring her almost possessively. She pulled away—or tried to, her body leaning back even as he kept her still and tight. Her smile was satisfied against his lips, and understanding lit through him. She’d won, he realized. By controlling the kiss between them, by taking the initiative and coming to him, instead of waiting for him to come to her, she had won.
“Was that what you wanted, Miss Michaels?” he asked, and he deliberately kept the teasing challenge in his voice.
She drew in a sharp breath, but didn’t take the bait. “Everything I could have hoped for,” she said, leaning back with a smug grin.
He lifted his brows. “Did I just experience sexual harassment?”
Dani’s smile flashed a little more broadly now. “I do apologize, sir. I was just so swept away.”
“Hmm.” He eyed her. “You didn’t seem terribly swept away. I must be losing my touch. Perhaps I should try again.”
“No, no. That won’t be necessary.” Dani’s words were a little too quick, a little too breathless, and she seemed to know it. She licked her lips, then colored at that action as well. “If we’re finished here, I’ll be on my way.”
“But we’re not finished here.” Rand could feel the heat radiating off her, liquid with intensity, and he dipped his head lower. “And you don’t strike me as someone who leaves the game before it’s done.”
“And yet I really need to be going.”
“You can leave at any time, Miss Michaels.” And it was true. He’d dropped his hands from her hips, and she just stood there now in the lee of his body, her eyes fixed on his. Her breathing was unsteady, and a pulse jumped just below her jaw, her breasts rising and falling beneath the narrow slit of her neckline. Her reaction to him was undeniable, and Rand’s resulting determination was direct and absolute. Dani Michaels was going to be his. He could see his hands moving over her body, trapping those breasts in his hands, squeezing them, his fingers teasing the tender nipples until she stood on tiptoe, her mouth slack with need for him, her skin shimmering with heat.
He hovered over her lips, waiting for her to break, and Dani stood frozen before him. He was letting her make the final call, but there was no way anyone would believe she was winning this round.
Not by a long shot.
“Shall I kiss you again?” Rand brushed his lips against hers and they opened on a sigh. He curved his mouth into a hard smile. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Dani didn’t know when the balance of power had shifted, but the taste of Rand’s lips on hers rocketed through her brain like a klaxon call of warning. She nearly groaned as he pulled her to him, his mouth hard, demanding, the thrust of his tongue the ultimate sensual intrusion that somehow felt like she was giving up too much, too soon.
And yet…
Rand’s arms circled around her, his hands dropping down her back until he cupped her backside, kneading her ass through the slinky fabric. Instantly, hot, wet desire pooled inside her, an aching fire that Rand seemed to be stoking with his kiss, his hands, his tongue, his—
He pulled away to stare at her, the abrupt absence of him shocking Dani into a gasp. His eyes were both icy and demanding, and she struggled to regain her composure. She was delivering a painting, for God’s sake. And this man was just toying with her. Or she was toying with him, rather. Something.
“Have dinner with me.”
“What? No.” Dani responded automatically, but the words jolted her back to reality. Because Rand suggesting that he fuck her against a wall? That was a reasonable request, and undoubtedly a damned fine time. But Rand asking her out on an actual date? That was him pulling her chain, and she had no patience for that shit. No matter how polished Dani’s packaging for this little drop-off, there was no way Rand didn’t recognize that she was not in his social class, not by about a billion dollars. Besides, the man had all but admitted he’d done a background check on her; after that, a romantic dinner just didn’t quite have the same ring to it. She stepped away from Golden Boy and smoothed down her dress, though nothing was out of place. She felt like she’d just been stripped and flung to the ground, but she hadn’t—she was together, she was on top of this.
“Why not?” Rand was leaning against the table once more, his arms crossed, his manner mildly curious, while Dani was now somehow over by one of his display cases, her feet apparently knowing to create a distance that her brain was still grappling with. There were dozens more crystal trinkets here, and she wondered about them. Rand didn’t seem like a collector. At least not of this kind of thing.
“Who decorates for you?” she asked, gesturing toward all of the expensive junk. “Your mom?”
“You don’t like it?” The bored drawl in his voice bolstered her, giving her a strength she was irritated to realize she needed. “I’ve been told it makes me seem more human.”
“Good luck with that.” She ran her fingers over the little figurines, each of them perfect and precise, just like the man himself. And completely whimsical, which was not at all like the man himself. Dani turned to see Rand watching her with his challenging eyes, assessing her position. They both knew that she was ready to bolt. They also both knew that Rand wasn’t going to tackle her to the ground, no matter how intense the attraction was between them. As she watched him, his eyebrows slowly drifted up. Okay, maybe she didn’t know whether or not Rand would tackle her to the ground. And maybe she didn’t want to think too much about how that made her feel. “It’s been a true pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Winston.”
“I think, under the circumstances, you should call me Rand.”
“Rand, then.” Dani nodded. “But I can see myself out.”
He tilted his head, but if he was surprised or disappointed at her abruptness, he didn’t show it. It wasn’t until she slid the letter opener out of her purse and waved it at him that a flicker of interest slid across his face. He’d expected her to take it. And why wouldn’t he? He’d read her file. And against her better judgment, she nearly had taken the damned thing, too. A crack of far-off thunder drew her attention to the drenched cityscape outside and she allowed herself a smile. Must be the altitude up here; not enough oxygen for her. “Almost forgot that I had this,” she said, setting the platinum-and-diamond-studded blade down on the table next to her, deliberately at an awkward angle to the perfectly positioned crystal bowl and lamp. It must look jarringly out of place to someone with a IV after his name. The thought cheered her.
Rand didn’t try to stop her as she exited his office, the door to which was fortunately only locked from the inside. He didn’t say anything at all, in fact, and she felt the familiar rush of satisfaction, also spiced by the familiar taste of danger. This man was bad for her. He made her want to do foolish things.
But if they were foolish things that he couldn’t catch, well…
She’d made it all the way to the outer office when she glanced over to the lights on Pearson’s desk. They were flashing red now, but she didn’t think too much about that, given that the woman was gone and there was no one manning the phones. Then she punched the elevator button, and that flashed red as well.
Flashing red elevator buttons were never good.
Shit.
Dani turned to see Rand silhouetted in the doorway of his office, the rain still pounding the glass of the windows behind him. It looked really cold out there, cold and wet. Which wasn’t going to be any fun at all, she had a feeling.
“Miss Michaels, it appears you have removed something from my office.” He held up the letter opener. “I’d thought I’d been quite clever, watching you as closely as I was. But once again, you have proven me wrong.”
Dani shrugged. “Score one for the con.” By his own admission, Rand hadn’t been the one to catch her. The flashing lights on Pearson’s desk console must be some sort of tech, quite a few levels up from the jobs she usually ran. And who microchipped crystal bunnies anyway, for the love of God?
Still, that didn’t mean she had to give in gracefully. He wanted to find the silly thing, that was on him.
Dani lifted her chin as Rand approached, his gaze drifting over her. She felt its scorching heat as he lingered on her neck, her breasts, her legs. “Now where could you have hidden something of mine?” he murmured. “Not your purse, I think. Too simple.”
That did make her smile. “Simple is sometimes smart.”
“And nobody would accuse you of not being smart—usually. And yet, you could have just walked away from my office without any memento at all, and guaranteed that you’d never see me again. Why didn’t you do that, I wonder?” Rand was close enough now to touch her, and he lifted his left hand to Dani’s temple, sliding it down until his fingers rested lightly on her neck, just over the point where her pulse was thumping quickly. Rand’s smile was all the acknowledgment he gave of her reaction, but it was his other hand she focused on as he traced the collar of her zip-fronted dress down, down, until his fingers caressed the small chrome pull between her breasts.
“I seem to recall this was zipped down just slightly farther,” he said. “You’ll forgive me if I notice such things.” And with a quick, efficient move, he dipped his fingers into the vee of her neckline and drew out the tiny crystal rabbit, holding it up to the light. His gaze never left hers, however. If he’d tracked the spike in her pulse when his soft fingers had grazed her breasts, he gave no indication.
Dani smiled coolly, also not breaking eye contact. “Well, you got me. Losers walk, so I’m outtie.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not quite so simple as that.”
Rand’s voice was deliberately slow, lazy. As if he knew with each passing word her tension level would ratchet up a notch. “The system is alarmed to notify security automatically in the event of any breach, and given the nature of the work we do here, a uniformed police officer is on duty at all times. Those individuals are even now on their way up to arrest you, as a matter of standard procedure. I can call them off, of course. And I’m more than happy to do so.” His smile grew a little more certain, and Dani felt her back go up. “In exchange for dinner.”
She blinked at him, startled. “You’re going to have me arrested if I don’t go out with you?”
“Not at all.” Rand bent closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “I’m going to have you arrested for attempting to steal an item of extreme sentimental value from me. You will spend the night in jail as I decide what charges I’m willing to press for such a violation of my trust and my personal sense of security.” His lips twisted cynically, but the interest in his eyes was very real. He weighed the small crystal rabbit in his hand as if it were gold bullion. “Or, if you agree to have dinner with me, I’ll call off the police. It’s your choice.”
Dani sighed and shook her head, then leaned up on her toes to caress Rand’s lips with hers and cup his chin with her hand. He really did have the most unbelievably beautiful mouth, she thought. It fit the rest of his criminally gorgeous face to a tee. She sighed as she eased back down on her platform heels, her fingers dropping to trace his lapel, smoothing his perfect suit against his perfect body. Then she smiled and met his gaze again, noting the hard, intense shot of victory in his eyes.
“I’ll take my chances in jail.”