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“Hudson,” I cut in, “you have to trust me. I don’t want you worrying about it.”
“Scarlett—”
“Also,” I drop in quickly because boy oh boy the softness in his voice worries me. Or something. It sends little shivers through me. “Also, I’m not going to let anything get in the way of you and your goals. That’s what you employed me for.”
He turns, his leg brushing mine as he does so, and he takes me in, but doesn’t speak.
And I need to fill the void. Keep him in the dark from the actual truth. Keep him occupied in a sense of well-being and where he’s not going to ask too many questions. I’m not sure how I’ll do that, but I’m going to work on it. Anyway, I keep going.
“I take the job very seriously. After all, do well enough and there might be a bonus in it.” I laugh and it’s got a slight tinge of hysteria about it.
But he raises a brow, and the corner of his mouth rises in the kind of almost smile that sets blood pressure to emergency room levels. “Quite the little mercenary.”
“Incentives work.”
“So they do. And I really don’t care who you talk to, just not on my watch. It doesn’t sit well and if someone’s watching they’ll know I won’t stand for it.”
“We all have pasts.”
His gaze moves over me again, this time slowly, and I’m possibly on fire. “And what’s yours?”
A danger zone when it comes to this man.
“Boring. Rich girl stuff.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s more than that, Scarlett. The job isn’t Mayflower Matrons of the Hamptons or whatever it was. It’s not tea parties and party dresses and Sunday brunches with the rich. It’s work. But there can be some incentives…”
I swallow, because I don’t know what he means. Or maybe I do. Or think I do. There’s a light in his gaze, a predatory light that’s way more single malt than martini and just as dangerous.
“Like what?”
He smiles, and it’s a small smile. One that makes things dance and party in my stomach, that makes my blood heat in my veins. “I think maybe you should go before you find out.”
“Well, now I want to know.”
“Heard of what happened to the cat with curiosity?”
I slide my hand down his arm, knowing this is really stupid, but doing it anyway.
“Satisfaction, I imagine.”
Hudson stares at me. “Are you insinuating that it was one very satisfied—” He stops himself and I can see the silent war there in his handsome face.
Anyone else he’d have said the word that hangs between us and its meanings. Anyone else he’d up that flirt and see what happened. Or take matters into his hands.
But it’s me, or who he thinks is me, and he’s being very careful.
I’ve had too many drinks, I decide, ignoring the fact I had maybe three. And that’s the only reason I move my hand to his warm thigh, the muscle lean and hard beneath my fingers.
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
His gaze is lingering on my mouth and then he shakes his head. “You need to behave, Scarlett. I don’t want to complicate things. I’ll walk you in.”
And he gets out of the car.
We’ve stopped. I mean, he’s not getting out of a moving car, is he? But I didn’t notice, I was too wrapped up in him.
Putting my fingers on the door handle, it swings open before I can do anything and Hudson is there, helping me out. We’re at Sarah’s building, but I barely notice it because my blood is still hot in my veins and that wild party in my stomach has only gotten wilder.
