Crash Into Me (2 page)

He
sat down behind the wheel and revved the engine. "Ready?"

I
was nowhere near ready, but there was no turning back now. The sharp click of
the car's doors locking signaled it was time to go, and with a deep breath, I
pressed a nervous smile onto my lips and nodded. I just hoped this wasn't going
to end up being the biggest mistake of my life.

Tristan
flew through the streets of SoHo, weaving through traffic at sixty miles an
hour as I covered my eyes and silently prayed for my life. Maybe this wasn't a
good idea.

"Are
you going to keep your eyes closed the whole time?"

I
opened my fingers and peeked through just in time to see us swerve around a cab
and quickly closed them again. "Yes. The whole time, which will probably
be about another minute at this speed."

"C'mon,
open them up. You're safe. I won't let anything happen."

Slowly,
I lowered my hands to my lap and worked hard not to dig my fingernails into my
legs. I wasn't usually this uncool, but then again, I wasn't usually racing
through the city at top speeds in a car that likely cost more than Jordan and I combined made in a year.

Tristan's
Jaguar rode like it was gliding on air. The body hugging black leather seat may
have been more comfortable than any piece of furniture I'd ever sat in. A
soothing blue glow emanated from the dash, which was full of knobs and buttons
around a center touchscreen. I may not ever have cared much about cars, but
even I knew this was top shelf.

"Nice
car. Do you always drive it like you plan to wreck it?"

As
he swerved to miss a car stopped in front of us, he said, "Drive it like
you stole it, right?"

Looking
around the inside of the car, I wondered out loud, "You didn't steal it,
did you?"

Tristan
let out a deep laugh that sounded like it came all the way from his toes.
"You're funny, Nina. Nothing like you were back there during the
show."

"Back
there I was working. My boss pays me to be serious." I stopped and
chuckled. "Well, actually, she pays me to be like her personal
slave."

"I
knew there was something more to you than the pretty girl who served the drinks
and disgusting little hot dogs."

God,
he was sexy! There was something about the way words slid from his mouth when
he spoke that made me want to beg him to stop the car so I could press my lips
to his.

I
turned to look at him and his strong jaw caught my attention. Even from the
side, he was gorgeous. Relaxed for the first time since the car had begun
moving, I joked, "I'll have you know those cocktail weenies are a big
hit."

He
turned his head and smiled a sexy grin. "I bet they are."

While
my gaze slid down over his torso and I noticed how perfectly his shirt lay on
his body, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a road sign as we sped past it.
I-95? "Uh, I think you're going the wrong way. The Cross Bronx Expressway
doesn't go anywhere near my house."

He
shifted into third gear and hit the gas, pushing me back against the seat.
"Guess you should have been paying attention instead of hiding behind your
hands."

Fear
raced through my body. Was he serious? "Are you kidnapping me? I mean,
this feels a little bit like kidnapping since you obviously aren't taking me
home."

That
I sounded ridiculous and a man like him probably didn't have to kidnap women
didn't occur to me in my fear. Women likely pleaded with him to take them
anywhere.

"I
don't think they'd call this kidnapping," he teased. "Maybe if you
were tied up or at least had a gag in your mouth."

"Please
take me home, Tristan. We're nowhere near my house and you're scaring me."

My
hands began to get sweaty at the real fear that I had made a terrible mistake.
I didn't know this man, and no matter how infatuated I'd been with him just
hours before, he had total control of me at that moment, something very frightening.

Still
speeding toward God knows where, he took his hands off the steering wheel and
held them up in front of him. "If you want to go home, take the wheel and
turn the car around."

I
frantically grabbed the wheel and the car jerked to the right, racing off to
the side of the road. I panicked, turned it to the left, overcompensating, and
screamed in terror as we began to spin out. Then everything before my eyes went
black.

The
car rolled to a stop on the shoulder and I heard him say my name in a soft voice.
"Nina. Nina, it's okay. We're okay."

I
looked around at the car and him and saw he was telling the truth. We hadn't
crashed and I was still alive. Adrenaline coursed through my body, and my hands
began to shake uncontrollably. Suddenly, I was overcome with emotion and lashed
out at him as tears began to roll down my cheeks. "You're crazy! You're
fucking crazy! You could have killed me!"

My
crying startled him, and for just a moment he didn't possess that cool exterior
he'd worn since the first moment I'd seen him. His brows knitted, as if he were
in pain, and he leaned in toward me to press his forehead to mine. He cradled
my face in his hands, instantly exciting me. Closing my eyes to mask my
discomfort, I heard him say, "We only know how precious life is when he
come close to death, Nina."

He
sat back in his seat, and I turned to look at him, my emotions all a jumble.
"Why did you want me to come with you tonight? Why did you come find me?
I'm not like those women who were around you at the show. Why me?"

"Those
women don't interest me. If they did, I could have any one of dozens right
now."

Oddly,
that made me jealous. I didn't even know this man, but the idea of him with
anyone else bothered me.

Fighting
back my insecurities, I said, "Maybe they like it when you nearly kill
them, but I don't. Most ordinary women like me don't."

He
stared straight ahead into the night and started the car again. "Don't
underestimate yourself, Nina. You're anything but ordinary."

In
truth, I didn't think I was ordinary, but it was nice to hear from someone
other than yourself sometimes. My cheeks warmed at his compliment, making me
happy the inside of the car was dim. He didn't need to think I was as
infatuated with him as I already was.

Full
of fake bravado, I said, "You have no idea what I am. And where the hell
are we going?"

"I
want to show you something. This is going to take a few, so why don't you
enlighten me as to what you are," he said with a smile that made an ache
form in the pit of my stomach.

"Isn't
it a little presumptuous of you to think I have no plans? It is a Saturday
night."

He
didn't seem bothered by the idea that I had plans or even had a boyfriend. I
had neither, but he couldn't know that.

Turning
his head to face me, he looked at me with those soulful brown eyes. "Do
you have plans?" he asked with an innocence that made me smile.

I
didn't want to admit that I, a young, available, attractive New York woman, had
no plans whatsoever on a Saturday night. I mean, I could have had plans. There
were men interested in me. Just not anyone I was interested in being interested
in me.

But
he didn't need to know that.

"I
did have things planned, if you need to know," I lied with enough attitude
to hopefully hide my fib.

He
chuckled and pushed down on the gas, again throwing me back in my leather seat.
He never asked what my plans were and obviously didn't care. Talk about ego! As
if I had nothing better to do than speed up the Taconic.

We
traveled in silence with the ghostly outline of the trees and the white line on
the side of the highway rushing by making me dizzy. The mood felt awkward, but
I didn't know what to say. Here I was racing toward some unknown place with a
man I barely knew in a car I'd only seen in ads in magazines and movies.

I
only hoped I would be alive at the end of whatever this was.

As
if he read my mind, he said, "Nina, relax. I don't plan to kill you and
leave bits and pieces of you along the side of the road."

Terror
raced through my body. I turned in my seat to face him, tugging the seatbelt
away from my neck. "Who says that kind of thing? Jesus! Now I'm worried
you're actually going to do that. And how do you know what I'm thinking?"

Once
again, he laughed at what I said. "Tell me about what you do when you
aren't hosting art shows."

Slumping
back in my seat, I tried to calm myself. "I guess that's supposed to make
me relax?"

He
turned to look at me for a moment and then turned back to face the road.
"No. It's supposed to tell me what you do when you're not hosting art
shows."

"I
like to read, hang out with my friends, and paint."

And
there it was. The truth of my life in one short sentence. I sounded like some
lame teenage girl who really spent her Saturday nights crocheting booties for
her cat.

"What
do you paint?"

"Whatever
I'm feeling."

"Are
you a good artist?"

"That's
usually in the eye of the beholder."

He
arched one dark eyebrow and looked over at me. "Then I'll have to judge
your work for myself sometime."

Why
was he talking like we were a couple or moving toward being that? We'd spent
all of an hour together and now he was making plans to see my artwork. Yet he
hadn't made any effort to even hold my hand or kiss me.

What
was with this guy?

"Are
we almost there?" I asked, uneasy about this entire thing.

"Almost."

As
if my question had been a cue, he took the next exit and in minutes we were in
the middle of pitch black nowhere. If I was worried before, now I was almost
terrified. Scenes from every horror movie I'd ever seen flashed through my
mind, all leading to the same ending. Me murdered and in pieces along an
isolated country road and my sister devastated because I had forgotten the one
thing she'd always told me not to do—get into cars with strangers. Ever since
her house was broken into and ransacked, she'd been nearly paranoid about
strangers, which I'd thought was a bit of an overreaction, but now I was
thinking she had the right idea.

"Can
I ask a question and have you answer with more than one word or one sentence
that really says nothing?"

He
stopped the car at a stop sign and turned to face me with a devastatingly sexy
grin on his face. "Yes."

I
couldn't help roll my eyes. He was either the most insufferable person I'd ever
met or one of the funniest. I couldn't decide which. "Where are we going
and can you promise me you're not going to do anything awful to me?"

"That's
two questions, Nina."

The
car began to roll again, and I let out a heavy sigh, hoping his dry humor was
an indication that I wasn't going to be killed anytime soon. "Okay, can I
ask you two questions and get straight answers?"

"Of
course. You can ask whatever you want and I'll answer."

"I'd
like straight answers."

His
mouth hitched up at the corners into a sly smile. "As straight as you
want."

"Where
are we going?"

"To
see a house I'm planning to buy."

"Really?"

He
turned his head to look at me. "Do you want that to count as your second
question?"

And
after being scared shitless and almost killed, then confused and finally
frustrated by his vague answers, I had to laugh. "No."

"Then
what's your second question?"

"Are
you going to do something awful to me out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Without
a word, he stopped the car and put it into park. Then he leaned over, nearly
touching my cheek with his lips, and pointed out my window. "That's the
house, and I have no plans to do anything you wouldn't like or even love. What
do you think of it?"

He
was so close and smelled so delicious that I couldn't think clearly. I turned
my head slightly and his lips brushed my skin, sending a jolt of electricity
straight to between my legs. Pressing my thighs together, I turned toward the
window and pretended to look up at the house on the hill.

"It's
nice."

"It's
twelve million dollars."

Holy
shit! In my mind, I counted the number of zeroes on a check for twelve million
dollars. Then I imagined what I could buy for twelve million dollars. And even
all that probably wouldn't fill the house I was looking at.

His
breath drifted over my neck, and I leaned back slightly, wanting so much for
him to kiss me or touch me with his hand. He did neither, though, even as he
remained there so close.

In
my ear, he whispered in a voice that hit me somewhere deep inside, "See?
Nothing bad."

Just
when I was sure he would do something, he sat back in his seat and began
driving back toward the city. My mind and senses were reeling. Never before had
I wanted to feel the touch of a man's lips on me so badly, but he never made a
move. The experience left my emotions raw, and I feared saying anything more as
I was sure I would embarrass myself, so I sat silently as he drove toward Sunset Park, speaking only when he asked me where I lived.

When
he finally pulled the car up to in front of my building, my feelings were all a
mishmash. I felt happy about the fact that he hadn't killed me, but it seemed
that he never had any plans to do that or anything else, including anything
sexual. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like he just wanted company. I guess
I had been that, but my infatuation had secretly made me want so much more.

"Thank
you for coming to see the house, Nina."

"Okay.
Thank you for not killing me out in the middle of nowhere, I guess," I
said with a smile, sad our time together was over, likely forever.

"I'll
watch you get in."