Page 23 of Bought
I shivered.
He wanted me, I knew he did. I’d seen desire in men’s eyes before and it had never boded well. Except…Fox hadn’t acted on it, which was strange, because usually they did. In fact, if I wasn’t much mistaken, he’d seemed almost annoyed by it.
But perhaps I could use his desire against him. Use sex to provoke him. Because what if I pushed harder? It was risky to make a man lose control, especially a man so much bigger and stronger than I was. Then again, he told me he wouldn’t hurt me, and I was starting to think he actually meant it.
I leaned back in my seat and studied him from beneath my hood.
He had his phone out and was looking down at it, those hard features set, his profile stern as he focused on the screen.
Everything about him was precise and exact. From his immaculate black hair to his snowy white shirt, all crisp and smooth, with no creases to speak of. No creases in his suit either.
A man all about icy control, as if at some point in his life he’d swallowed an ice cube and had let it freeze him solid from the inside out.
Even when I’d pushed him, kissed him, bitten him, all he’d done was to take me in an iron grip, the force of his will the only burning thing about him. Unlike Donny who got vicious. Unlike Dad whose rage was a simmering volcano that would erupt without warning and seemingly without provocation.
Dad, with his stained shirts and crumpled ties, and the filth in the apartment that he refused to clean up because that had always been Mom’s job and now she was gone, he wouldn’t stoop to it.
No, Tennyson Fox was nothing like either Donny or Dad.
He was threatening but not in the way I usually thought of it, and his authority was absolute. Innate. As if he had no need to prove himself, not to anyone. Not that it made him any less dangerous, of course, but he had given me multiple opportunities to leave and had told me he’d rather get me a hotel than take me home if I was afraid of him. And apart from that kiss — which I’d initiated — he hadn’t acted on his desire for me, despite me being totally naked. That had to count for something.
So yeah, it was risky to contemplate pushing him so far that he’d break, but it was the only option I had left that I hadn’t tried.
I hadn’t expected to have sex tonight, still less with him, but if I wanted him to take me home, then I’d have to risk it.
Providing I could get him to lose that rigid control of his.
He didn’t speak, the silence getting heavier as the minutes ticked by, so I said nothing either, my mind working overtime thinking of various ways I could get to him, seduce him.
If we were going to a hotel, that would give me more scope than in a car with a driver. In a hotel room, we could be alone — if I could get him to go with me to the room, that was, and not just dump me outside the hotel entrance.
I still didn’t have much of a plan by the time we pulled up outside another elegant brownstone with a discreet gold plaque on the wall outside. So, a small boutique hotel rather than a massive chain. That seemed very on-brand for someone like Fox.
I gathered my cloak around me, my heart thumping hard as I sorted through various spurious reasons why he’d have to come with me into the hotel, only to find that I needn’t have worried.
As soon as the car stopped, Fox got out and then held the door open for me. I stepped onto the sidewalk and went to reach for my purse, only to have him grab it before I did, holding it negligently in one hand.
“This way, please.” He settled the other hand beneath my elbow and gripped me, steering me through the big glass doors and into the hotel.
Inside, it was very quiet, the same kind of quiet Arcadia had, that spoke of money and power and exclusivity. The lobby was spacious and full of old-world charm, with lots of dark velvet sofas and silk rugs, wood paneling, and lush greenery.
The man behind the big oak counter looked up and greeted Fox warmly. There was a brief discussion and then he handed Fox a card. Fox hadn’t let go my elbow once, as if he was afraid I’d run away, and he didn’t let go now as he took the card, then urged me over to an old-fashioned cage elevator.
Pulling open the door, he steered me inside, and then, to my surprise, he stepped inside too, and closed the door. He pressed a button and the elevator jerked once before beginning to rise smoothly.
“So, you’re going to show me to my room, now?” I didn’t mean it to sound sharp, it just came out that way.
He glanced down at me. “I want to make sure you arrive there safely.”
“What do you think I’m going to do? Get mugged in this five-star hotel? Run away screaming from all this luxury?
He didn’t answer.
The elevator jerked to a stop, and we got out, him leading the way down a plushly carpeted hallway to the door at the end of it. He waved the card the hotel concierge had given him over the card reader, then opened the door, gesturing me inside.
It was a big room, as full of old-world luxury and charm as the lobby had been. The same thick, dark carpet on the floor with silk rugs spread over the top. A big four-poster bed held pride of place in the center of the room, piled high with a thick white comforter and pillows, and a velvet quilt on the top.
I took a few steps inside, trying to calm my racing heartbeat, then turned around.