Page 41 of Hard Deal
“Sure.” He nodded. “What would you like to drink?”
“Water, please.”
After he’d poured her a glass and made a gin for himself, they settled on the soft, worn-in leather couch that faced the windows running the length of the apartment. Outside, the city shimmered. Imogen seated herself as far away from his as the furniture would allow.
“This is the best spot in the whole house.” He took a sip of his drink.
“Should I be afraid to sit on this couch?” she asked drily. “You clean it between women, right?”
The barb stuck hard in his chest. Maybe it was because his guard was down, maybe it was because of his chat with Daniel, or maybe it was the deep regret that her poor opinion of him was partially his fault...and he was done taking it on the chin.
“Actually, I prefer to fuck on the balcony. I’ve got a thing for voyeurism in case you hadn’t noticed.” His tone was granite-hard.
Imogen blinked, her bottom lip rolling between her teeth. “That was unnecessary.”
He swirled the liquid in his glass, watching the ice cubes and wedge of lime bob up and down. “I’m not the guy you think I am,” he said eventually. “Just like I know you’re not the uptight, Prim Miss Hargrove you try to be in the office.”
“It’s not a front.”
“Isn’t it? The night we went out I saw something different. I saw it in your office, too.” He rubbed his thumb over a chip in the rim of his glass, feeling the sharp edge catch his skin. “You change when you stop trying to hold on to that image. All the hardness and the sarcasm and the walls melt away. You...transform.”
Her eyes were wide, the olive green irises made even more vivid by the tinge of red around them. How did he miss that earlier?
“I’m not pretending to be someone else. This is me. I’m sorry if you find it boring, but there’s no treasure waiting to be discovered.” She swallowed. “No matter what you thought you saw that night.”
“I know what I saw.” He set his glass onto a coaster on the coffee table. “You might not think you’re hiding, but you are. And you’ve done such a good job that you’ve even fooled yourself.”
“No, you’re right.” She rolled her eyes. “You absolutely know more about me than I know about myself. How silly of me.”
“This is what I’m talking about. The second anything gets real you shut down.”
“The second anything gets real,” she scoffed. “Spare me. I know what this is, Caleb. I’m not some deluded bimbo who thinks you’ll change thanks to the magical powers of my cha-cha.”
“Pussy,” he corrected.
She gritted her teeth. “This isn’t a game.”
“Then why are you turning it into one?”
“I’m not!” She threw her hand in the air. “You were the one who took what was supposed to be a simple date and turned it into...”
“The best sex of your life?”
She rubbed a hand over her face. A groove deepened in the middle of her forehead. “Yes.”
He raised a brow. “I’m sorry?”
“No, I’m sorry. I should have known better than to put myself in a position to be tempted.” She huffed. “You’re like a really good pizza. I know I shouldn’t want it and I know it’s really freaking bad for me. But does that stop me wanting to nibble on a slice? No, because I’m an idiot with no willpower.”
That was a lot to take in. She wanted him but didn’t think she should—why? Because of his reputation? Because she was worried it might affect her career? Because she thought he’d hurt her?
“I’ve never met anyone who tries so hard to resist their feelings before.”
“Yes, I know everyone falls all over themselves to get in your pants...or to get you into their pants.” She scrunched up her nose. “You know what I mean.”
“People tend to either love me or hate me. There isn’t a lot of in-between.” His lip pulled up on one side. “I’m polarising like that.”
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