“What? No…I wasn’t trying to tackle you.”
He flashed her an honest to goodness smile, filled with playful teasing.
God, she wanted to touch him, cup his handsome face in her hands and kiss him. What are you thinking? Salvaging a miniscule of composure, she twisted her neck, so their lips weren’t in quite such close proximity.
Peering upward, she cleared her throat, simmering, “I was beginning to wonder if you had any teeth behind those lips.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re smiling.”
His throaty laugher echoed through the expansive room.
Not trusting her lack of self-control, she moved sideways casually inspecting his apartment…or at least pretending to. The furniture was built on a largescale and appeared to be designed with comfort in mind. Sunlight streamed through the wraparound windows showcasing the rich, earth-tone colors bringing warmth to the modern elements of steel and wood.
Tugging the rubber band from her hair, she casually dragged her fingers through the tussled mass. Ember could feel the heat of his gaze fixed upon her every move as she refastened the pony.
Big windows, big view, big ego. No doubt it was a dose of urban living at its finest and way out of her league. Not that I want to be in his league.
“Nice place. I thought you lived next door to me.”
“I grew up there, so it’s still home to me. I’ve been staying there, helping out, since my dad’s knee replacement.” Nash strode into the kitchen, removing his tie and unfastening the top two buttons of his shirt. Gesturing toward a waxy, raspberry-colored smear located about six buttons down, he mused, “What is it with you and your lip gloss?”
“I can have it cleaned.”
“Na, it’s okay. Maybe next time you can aim for my skin instead of my shirt.”
Ember wasn’t sure which skin he referred to, but she decided it was probably best not to ask. That’d be like stepping on a mound of fire ants expecting not to get stung.
Nash retrieved two glasses and a bottle of single barrel whiskey from the bar cabinet. Ember shook her head slightly, declining the offer.
“Wine?”
“No thanks.”
“You don’t want to have a drink with me?”
Is this a trick question?
“Not sure that’d be a good idea.”
His brow perked at the hint of indecision lurking in her answer.
“You just took on a boardroom full of seven of the biggest names this side of the Mississippi. I’m sure you could manage a drink with just one.”
“You’re probably the most ruthless out of all of them.”
“If you define ruthless as determined ambition then you’re probably not too far off.”
The silkiness in his deep tone drew her in. Ember faced him head on, questioning in a soft voice, “Why didn’t you tell me you were trying to buy Walker Ranch?”
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Ember searched for her purse which had landed by the door when she tripped. Seeing her mother’s image on the screen, she held up her pointer finger. “Excuse me a sec. Hey, Mom. I’m in the middle of a meeting. Can I call you later?”
“Is everything okay?” June fought to control the apprehension from heightening her voice.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Ember moseyed toward the window, watching the sun sink southward, beginning its nightly departure.
“Okay. Are you sure? I saw glass and you falling and—”
“Honest, everything is fine. I tripped and my meeting is in a skyscraper downtown. I promise, I’m all in one piece. I’ll call you later.”
“All right, sweetie.” She released a deep exhale. “Good luck at your meeting. Love you.”
“Thanks. Love you too.”
A glass half full of whiskey dangled from his long fingers. “This situation must be hard for your mom. Watching you take on all the responsibilities of the ranch. Having you be away from home.”
Ember turned to peer at his eyes. Intuition burned in her tummy.
He didn’t so much as budge.
Not even a blink.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve been away from home, Nash. I’ve been on my own since I was nineteen.” Her gaze narrowed. “But somehow I get the feeling you already know that.”
He made zero attempt to deny the claim, instead he merely raised the glass to his full lips and took a long draw of the umber-colored liquid.
“Your mom…she clairvoyant or something?”
“Something like that.” Ember folded her arms across her chest. “Are you going to answer my question?”
“It’s a difficult question.”
“Not really.”
“Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting you,” he paused, “to show up.”
Alarm bells rattled her bones.
“That all you got to say?”
The air shimmering around them grew taut. All the warm and fuzzy feelings that had been gathering force fell away, dissipating into the fog now clouding her brain. Something was there, hidden beneath the fine exterior of the man at her side. She knew he was either lying, hiding, or cheating.
None of which were acceptable.
An indignant scoff erupted in her chest. Ember’s arms felt heavy and encumbered as they fell to her sides. “Yeah, well, I’m here. Guess you better get used to it.”
Turning on a heel, she picked up her purse and walked toward the door.
“You’re leaving?” A puzzled frown weaved between his dark brows.
“I don’t like to be lied to or fucked with. You seem like a smart man, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she said flatly.
He reached up, flattening the palm of his hand to the door, hindering her escape.
“Not even a little fucked with?”
She stood there, breathless, staring at his shirt front. The drift of his warm breath floated over the top of her head. Without moving, she peered upward sliding him a dark glance. “Not even the tiniest fuck.”
Wicked playfulness gleamed in his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to help you out with a tiny fuck.”
Fire erupted inside, sparks of awareness pushing through her veins. Thoughts fractured, unraveling her composure to bits. If she didn’t leave in the next few seconds she’d either cry or kiss him.
Neither would be good.
Ember tried to speak, but nothing came out. She licked her lips, forced a swallow, and tried again. “I’d expect nothing less. I’m sure you’re a real big prick.”
He turned the knob and opened the door. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our talk.”
“Fuck you, Nash.”
His blue eyes danced with amusement. “Maybe next time, Ember.”
As furious as she was, Ember couldn’t stop the idiotic grin from seeping into the apples of her cheeks as she strutted across the hall to the elevator and pushed the button. As she waited for the elevator, the burn of his stare penetrated her backside, causing her to squirm.
The doors opened. Ember stepped inside, turned, and popped one leg to the side as if she were showing off a designer gown at the Oscars. As the doors began to close, she flipped him the bird, presenting him one final fuck off.
Savoring the solitude of the small confines, she caught a glimpse of her flustered image in the mirrored doors. Ember murmured in disgust, “Nice, real nice. Why am I letting him get to me?” Fury and disappointment meshed. Casting an index finger at her reflection, she concluded, “Because you’re the fucking yo-yo.”