Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3 (4 page)

Her lips parted—pretty, shiny, pink lips that he wanted to taste with a sudden urgent hunger. “I’m not afraid.”

He lifted a hand to touch the tips of his fingertips to her soft cheek. “I’m not that scary. But you’re afraid of something.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh for the love of— I’ll take the damn coat. But that’s it.”

Another chuckle rose in his throat but he swallowed it down. “What can I do to make it safe for you?”

Two little indentations appeared between her eyebrows. “What?”

“I can send a car for you. Or you can meet me at the restaurant. We’ll be in a public place. What’s to be afraid of?”

“I told you I’m not afraid.”

“Yeah. You are. And I’m damn well going to find out why that is. But apparently not tonight.” He knew when to withdraw. “I have to get to my lunch meeting. We’ll talk again.”

She gaped at him as he turned away with a smile and walked out. He caught the young woman who’d answered the door watching him with a fascinated expression and he smiled at her too.

He exited the building and walked back to his car. Before he put it in gear, he sat and replayed that encounter.

His chest clenched as he imagined what had put that fear into her. He knew a woman like her could be taken advantage of by assholes who were in to power and control and giving pain for all the wrong reasons. Fuck.

He shook his head. It was true he wasn’t used to being turned down. And, honestly, if ever a woman
had
turned him down, he’d shrugged and forgotten about her.

He couldn’t forget Paige Nelson.

Chapter Four

“Oh my God, Paige.”

Paige turned and directed her bemused gaze on Trenise.

“That man is
hot
for you. And he’s gorgeous! I’m not kidding, I’m about to have an orgasm.”

Paige choked out a laugh as she carried the box toward the big table.

“How could you turn him down? Oh my God. If he told
me
he was taking me out for dinner, I’d say, ‘yes, sir, what time?’.”

Paige jerked her head back to give Trenise a sharp look.

Trenise smiled dreamily. “Try the coat on,” she said.

Rolling her eyes, Paige opened up the carton again and pulled the beautiful coat out of the tissue. She slipped it on and fastened the buttons as she moved toward the long, narrow mirror on one wall. Her iPod now played Bruno Mars as she studied the coat in the mirror.

“Beautiful,” Trenise said. “It fits perfectly and that color is amazing on you.”

Red was a good color for her, and this was the perfect shade of crimson that flattered her coloring. “It’s lovely,” she agreed. “It just feels…uncomfortable, taking something so expensive from a stranger. Men like that expect something in return.”

“Dinner,” Trenise said. “That’s not that shocking.”

Paige turned. “And then what does he expect after he buys me dinner?” she demanded.

“I don’t know, but I’d like to find out.” Trenise flashed her white smile. “Too bad he only had eyes for you.”

“You can have him. I hate men like that. Bossy and arrogant. Thinks he rules the world. Thinks he can just tell me to have dinner with him and I’ll do it? Bah!”

Trenise’s smile faded. “Girl, you’re kind of overreacting. I thought he was sort of sweet.”

Paige sighed. “Maybe. But damn. I just got away from a man like that.” Her stomach did a clench of anxiety at the thought that Delmer knew where she worked. She’d managed to move without him knowing where she lived, she’d changed her email address and cell phone number, and her website didn’t display the physical address of the warehouse since all their business was currently online, but somehow he’d tracked down the address and shown up there once. She hadn’t answered the door to him, alone in the warehouse, and eventually he’d left. But she had a feeling he’d be back.

That was the downside of having a storefront business—the address would have to be public. And he’d find her again. But she couldn’t let that stop her from living her life.

“The last thing I need is to get involved with another asshole like that. I’m in charge of my own life now.” Although she was uncomfortably aware that with the threat of Delmer reappearing in her life at any time, she wasn’t completely in charge. Delmer had a long reach. But she wasn’t going to let him stop her from doing this, from starting over in a new city, with new friends and a new business that she was going to make a success of by herself.

“I think you’re judging him kind of harshly,” Trenise said slowly. “You don’t even know him.”

“Sure I do. I know his type.” She grimaced and removed the coat. She moved to a rack and found a wooden hanger for it. “Forget about him. He got his way and gave me the coat and pants. He’s gone and we have work to do.”

Paige continued her hunt for new space despite that phone call from Brad Jaworski telling her he’d have a great spot to show her in a week. Deals had fallen through before and she wasn’t going to wait for him to come through. She kept busy working, scouting out one more spot that seemed good but turned out to be a big disappointment in person, going to her usual weekly hip-hop class with Mallory and hosting a Friday night get-together with friends at her and Kevin’s place.

When Brad called Tuesday to set up a time to view the new location, she was still skeptical but also frustrated at the lack of success she was having. Maybe she was being too picky.

“Am I being too picky?” she asked Trenise on Wednesday, on her way out to meet Brad.

“Well. It’s a big decision. You don’t want to have to relocate twice. And image is so important. I get why you want the right look and location. On the other hand, staying here with low overhead is good for the bottom line.”

“But we’re so running out of space. Well, I’ll see what this spot is like. Brad says it’s the same rent as the other one, but it’ll be amazing if it’s just as good.”

“Good luck.”

Wearing her new coat, because, dammit, it
was
beautiful, she arrived at Heaton Plaza a short while later. Snow was falling and the streets were a mess, but as she approached the building she assessed the neighborhood. All the buildings were well kept, some with awnings. A cute restaurant had what would be a lovely shady patio on the wide sidewalk in summer months. Small boutiques and an elegant-looking hair salon filled many of the street-level spaces.

She walked up to Heaton Plaza and was struck by the beautiful architecture. She gazed up. Not a skyscraper by today’s standards, only about eighteen stories high, but impressive nonetheless with restored brick exterior, big arched windows on the main and second floors and an attractive entrance flanked by granite columns. She loved those windows, but window units were always priced way higher.

Paige entered a foyer with high, arched ceilings. A staircase on the left climbed to the second floor, wide marble stairs with polished oak banisters. Beside it were brass-doored elevators. The lighting was clearly new and modern but had a charming antique feel.

She stopped and turned in a slow circle to take it in. It had all been amazingly refurbished with new materials but the charm of the original structure remained.

Nice.

She approached the frosted-glass-and-oak door of number 101, wondering if Brad was already there. The door was unlocked and she walked in, facing a small reception area with a counter. The wall behind it didn’t go all the way to the ceiling and was lit by funky LED track lights. Exposed ducts and beams above had been refinished attractively in matte black.

Paige could picture a couple of love seats on either side of the reception desk. One of them would sit in front of one of those beautiful arched windows she’d admired. On the inside, the old brick in shades of mocha and café au lait had been blasted and cleaned.

The private space behind the foyer wall could be accessed on either side of the reception desk. The hardwood floor was clearly newly refinished and it gleamed in the sophisticated lighting. She hated to even walk on it in her wet boots.

“Hello!” she called. “Brad?”

She bent over to remove her boots on the small mat inside the door. Footsteps approached from around the wall and when she straightened, she was looking at Raff Lauden.

She wasn’t surprised.

He didn’t give up easily. Another similarity with her ex.

She’d been thinking about Raff Lauden a lot since that day he’d brought the coat back to her. She’d tried not to, but it was impossible. Despite her assertion to the contrary, he was impressive, as in, he made an impression. A powerful impression.

It was more than his looks, which she couldn’t deny attracted her. Today he wasn’t wearing a suit, but rather a pair of black wool pants and a thin, heather-gray V-neck sweater over a white T-shirt. He tossed a soft black leather jacket onto the reception counter.

She’d thought about his looks—his smile, the unexpected beauty of it in his austere face, especially when she knew he’d been frustrated by her rejection. The way it creased his cheeks and deepened faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the flash of white teeth. That smile exuded charisma and sex. But more than just his looks, she’d also thought about the way he’d looked at her, how focused he was on her, how she knew he also found
her
attractive and how that made her feel—desirable, feminine…even beautiful.

She’d tried to deny the twinge of disappointment that he’d given up so easily and walked away that day. He’d said they’d talk again, but she hadn’t heard from him. And yet, somehow, in some remote part of her consciousness, she’d known she would in fact see him again.

So, yeah, she wasn’t surprised that he was there.

“No Brad?” she asked.

“Not today.”

“I hope you didn’t fire him.”

“Fuck no. Why would I do that?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. Because you can?”

His face went stony, and the air in the room changed and became electric. “Some asshole did a number on you,” he muttered.

Her insides tightened. His insight startled her. Was she that readable?
Geez.

“This building is beautiful,” she said, changing the subject.

“Yes it is. Come on back and see the rest of it. Let me take your coat.”

Right. The coat. His face softened when he looked at the coat but he didn’t say a word. He laid it on the reception counter beside his jacket. Heat swept up from her chest to her face. Then he gave her a quick study, taking in the knee-length black skirt, black tights and fitted white cotton shirt. Approval showed in the quirk of his lips.

“Don’t you have better things to do with your time?” she blurted. “Surely the CEO and President of Challenger Development Group has lots of people who do this for him.”

That smile reappeared and she found herself drawn to it. Wanting to see it more. “I worked my way up from the ground in this business,” he said. “I’m not above any of the jobs in the organization.”

She tipped her head and studied him. Somehow, she believed him. Which kind of made her respect him.

“I guess you figured out who I am,” he said.

“Uh…
yeah.
” Though she wasn’t about to tell him she’d Googled him that night. “My roommate says he met you once.”

His eyebrows lowered. “He?”

“Yeah. Kevin Chillen. He’s an architect. Says he met you at a conference a few years ago.”

Raff made a face. “Forgive me for not recalling. I meet so many people.”

“No worries. He remembers you, of course.”

“Why do you have a male roommate?”

She blinked. “Well, first of all, that’s not really any of your business. And second of all…no, never mind. That’s all there is.”

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Boyfriend?”

“
Now
you ask me that?” She gave him an incredulous look. “You didn’t seem worried about that when you were pressuring me to have dinner with you last week.”

He actually bit his lip in an extremely sexy, male way. “True. I should be ashamed of myself, right?”

“But you’re not.”

“Answer my question. Is your roommate your boyfriend?”

The flash in his dark eyes should have warned her that she was pushing him, but she said, “I repeat, none of your business.”

He gave her a tight-lipped look for a long moment. She kept her chin up and her gaze steady on his. It was hard. The way he looked at her made her want to cave and tell him whatever he wanted to know, including her date of birth, favorite color and bra size. But that wasn’t her anymore.

“He’s not,” Raff finally said. “If he were, you wouldn’t call him a roommate.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. Could we please look at this space?”

He grinned. “You bet, sweetheart.”

Her eyes again bugged out at the endearment. “You are relentless,” she muttered.

“Didn’t get to be CEO and President of a multimillion dollar property development company being a pusswuss.”

She nearly choked. Holy shitballs. The man had her spinning. He wore suits worth thousands of dollars and elegant pants and cashmere sweaters, ran a hugely successful company, was friends with the mayor and had dated Cissy Lordlee, daughter of the owner of Michigan Power, also insanely wealthy. She learned this from Google. And then every once in a while he was so down to earth—well, crude, even—he was just a regular guy.

A crazy-hot regular guy.

“Could we please just look around?” she said through gritted teeth.

“You were the one who paused to compliment me.”

“That was not a compliment!” Then she caught the teasing glint in his eye and heat rushed up from the opening of her shirt into her cheeks yet again. He was totally baiting her and she was totally rising to it. Something about this guy made her into a crazy woman.

She didn’t want to think about that, so she marched past him.

She bit her lip at seeing the rest of the unit. Two more lovely arched windows. Shiny hardwood. Perfect white walls with more of the LED lighting. Beyond that, a spacious office with yet another arched window, and on the other side of that, a storage area that was nicer and bigger than her entire current warehouse. A loading dock to the back alley would be convenient for shipping.

There was also a small kitchenette—oh God!—and a bathroom, both of which had been recently redone with granite counters and clean white cabinets.

She almost wanted to cry. After they walked through and Raff told her all the specs—the square footage, a bunch of stuff about electrical and heating and cooling systems, the high-speed Internet access and all the features that were available to all the building tenants—she stopped in the middle of the space and in her mind’s eye designed it the way she’d want. The dressing room. The mirrors. The racks for clothing. In her office, a sleek desk for her computer and some cool accessories for keeping invoices organized.

Her lips started to pout, and she had to pull them in and blink hard at the quick sting in the corners of her eyes. She turned to Raff. “What you’re charging is ridiculous.” As in, ridiculously low.

“It will still need some development.”

“Yes, but so will every other place I’ve looked at. I’ve looked at a lot, Raff.” Er…she’d just called him by his first name, after refusing to do so last time. She ignored that and forged on. “I know what the going rates are. Your price per square foot is half what it should be.” Her fingers sought the elastic band on her wrist and gave it a tug. The sharp sting on her skin was almost a relief.

He held her gaze. “I charge what I think is fair.”

“I’m not stupid.” Anger flared hot inside her, followed quickly by a throb of disappointment. She snapped the elastic again and the smarting calmed her minutely. She tried not to do that in front of other people, but he made her so jumpy. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice her fingers at the cuff of her shirt. “I don’t get why you’re doing this, but I know you expect something in return. And it’s not something I’m prepared to give. So forget this deal.”