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“As for the proposition—I imagine you know my reputation around town.” I hold her gaze, studying her reaction.
“Yes, I’m aware of your playboy ‘I-don’t-give-a-shit’ status.” Where most women would cower under my gaze, she stands firm. Her back straight, chin lifted, letting me know she’s not going to take anything less than the truth from me.
I admire that.
“Well, it’s causing some problems with the investors of the rodeo. Seems they want to have a say in my personal life, and that means being seen with the same woman for an extended period of time.”
“And what does that mean for me?”
“It means I need you on my arm for all the major corporate events from now until after the rodeo. We’ll also need to be seen in public together, just like any other couple.”
She remains silent, her eyes laser-focused on mine. I don’t dare break from her gaze, but notice the steady rise and fall of her chest as she considers my words. Her breath quickens along with the growing tension between us.
Heat races up my body as I deny myself what I want the most. Not only do I want to look at her now-heaving breasts, but I want to cross my kitchen and take her into my arms. I want to feel their weight in my hands. Find out what it would be like to make her come completely undone.
I give my head a shake. I don’t think like this. I don’t give a shit what makes a woman tick come sundown. I only care about what gets them off and out of my bed before the sun rises.
“How many?” Her voice rips through the silence, bringing my attention back to the matter at hand.
“How many what?”
“How many events do we need to be seen at and over what period of time? I have court dates coming up and I can’t take time away from that just to be seen all over town as your latest buckle bunny.”
“You wouldn’t be my latest buckle bunny; that’s the point.” I remain still for another moment before taking a breath and sagging my shoulders. “You’re the anti-buckle bunny.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.” She narrows her eyes and tilts her head; but the way she regards me isn’t in distaste or anger. She looks at me as if I’m a puzzle. A case to be solved.
A project.
“It’s a compliment.” I don’t look away as I lift my bottle to my lips and sip. This time, I indulge myself in letting my gaze roam over her. She drops her arms from her chest, letting them hang at her side. The black sweater she’s wearing clings to her like a second skin, giving way to dark blue jeans and black socks. She must have kicked off her boots, leaving her that much shorter than me.
“You still didn’t answer my question. You do that a lot.”
“Do what?” My mind draws a blank, trying to recall what she’d asked before I let my eyes wander.
Her curves set her apart from my usual women. Curves that would give me something to hold on to. Let me feel like I won’t break her if I handle her the way I want to.
“You deflect and evade my questions. I can see now why you don’t have a lot of women sticking around.”
“Maybe I like it that way.” I place my beer bottle on the counter behind me, letting the glass tap against the quartz counter ringing loudly through the room. “Plus, they don’t get time to ask questions.”
Dakota rolls her eyes. “Either way. How many events between now and the rodeo?”
“Three. There’s a gala and a dinner the night before with all the sponsors and participants. Plus the rodeo itself which is a three day event.”
“And private dates?” Her tone is flat, unimpressed.
“Undetermined,” I grit through my teeth. Dates are another thing I don’t do. Pick up women at a bar? Sure. Go home with someone from a charity event? You bet. Plan a dinner and night with someone in advance? Never.
She stares at me, using that assessing glare of hers. I find myself wanting to shift under her gaze. It’s one she no doubt perfected for witnesses on the stand, but I won’t let it break me. I won’t let this woman get the better of me.
Turns out, she’s the first to break the gaze, looking around the room, assessing it as she turns in a circle. “What’s with the house?”
“It’s a house,” I answer flatly. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s a little…”
“Ostentatious?” I stand straight and walk to her, hovering over her without touching.
