Page 21 of Into the Dark

He nods.

“Is that all you wanted?” I part my lips and move my gaze to his mouth. I see it, the shift in his breathing, his eyes changing, darkening.

“Don’t play games with me, Alex,” he says very, very quietly. He’s looking at my mouth now too.

This time I do laugh. “I wouldn’t dare. I’ve always been awful at our ‘games,’ Jake, and you know it. Tell me what else you wanted.” I step closer so our bodies are pressed together, the air between us warm and stretched thin.

He says nothing, but his eyes say everything. They always have.

“Okay, then let me guess.” I speak slowly, properly, low. The way I know he likes. “You thought you’d come here, that you’d see me, that I’d see you, and then we’d do what we always do whenever we need to talk: fuck each other’s brains out. Was that it? Was that what you wanted?”

He looks a little surprised, I think. Or like I’ve hurt his feelings. But then his face changes and a slow, sexy smile spreads across it. Oh god, I’ve missed that smile.

“Not exactly, but I guess that’s what you want, huh?” He licks his lips slowly, deliberately. “Okay, baby, where? Bent over the car? Inside the car? Over there in those trees?” He gestures to the thick forest of green, which is in total darkness. I get an image of every one of those options and feel the clench between my legs.

He’s smiling like a cat because he thinks he’s calling my bluff. He thinks I’m a coward who’ll never allow any of that to happen. He knows nothing. He certainly knows nothing about how much I still want him.

“I’m not in the exhibitionist kind of mood right now, to be honest. Plus, my parents are probably still here.”

He relaxes back into his feet, looking vindicated, if a little disappointed.

“I was thinking upstairs in my room. It’s on the third floor—the Renaissance suite. It’s in the east wing. Follow me up?” I smile the most seductive smile I can before placing his jacket into his hands. “If you don’t have any drug deals you need to go execute tonight, that is. Wouldn’t want to keep you from business.”

His mouth drops open as I turn on my heel and walk away.

Holding my dress and my head up, I walk as gracefully as possible across the gravel, back toward the entrance of the castle, trying not to panic when I don’t hear the sound of him following me across it.

What the hell am I doing? Did I just invite him up here for sex? My ex, who happens to be involved in God knows what kind of undisclosed criminal activity and is under surveillance by the police—one of whom is downstairs right now?

I suppose I did.

I manage to make it upstairs to my room without meeting anyone, taking the turret stairway far away from the ballroom up to the third floor. There I sit on the bed, waiting. Waiting for him to come after me or walk away and leave me. I’m not sure I’m quite prepared for either outcome.

Where the hell is he?

I left him in that parking lot almost ten minutes ago.

Christ, I’m too hot. I feel sick too. Though since I’ve been an emotional wreck all day, surviving on nerves alone, this isn’t exactly a surprise.

My eyes spring open as the thought occurs to me. What if Mark cornered him on the way up here? Is that what’s taking him so long? Mark may have talked him out of it. No—Jake won’t be talked out of or into anything by anyone, least of all Mark Holmes. Oh god. But maybe I should go and see if that’s what’s happened. Jake might need me.

As I sit up on the bed pondering, I hear it.

The knock is quiet—so quiet I think maybe I imagined it. But then it comes again, sturdier, and I practically spring up from the bed. Smoothing down my dress and hair, I cross the suite to the door as calmly as I can. My body wants to sprint the distance.

When I look through the peephole my panic settles slightly. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his head down so I can’t see his eyes.

I really need to see his eyes.

I take a deep breath and pull open the door. When I see the look in his eyes, I’m convinced I did the right thing inviting him up here.

Christ.

If he has ever looked more beautiful or irresistible than he does right now, then I can’t remember it. He still wants me—that much is evident. He undresses me with his eyes, that angrily aroused look I remember so well clear on his face. Not waiting for an invite, he moves into the room so I have to move backward to maintain some distance. It’s not distance I particularly want, but it feels necessary right now. I step further into the room as he closes the door behind him.

“You took your time,” I say, my voice sounding stronger than I feel.

“I was giving you time to rethink your offer.”