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“Of course. As long as you need.” Evan took my hand.
His gentle squeeze made me feel safe. I wasn’t ready when he pulled it away. Instead of leaning into him for comfort, the way I wanted to, I contained my emotions and felt below my eye. My cheek was warm and still sensitive to the touch. “Will the stupid camera vultures be there tonight?”
He sighed. “It’s not raining or snowing, so yes, maybe.”
CHAPTER18
Alexa
On the wayto Evan’s place, I quelled the nervousness by repeating to myself that this was logical, and as he’d just mentioned,safe. Pinky had reminded me how important that word was.
Evan slid his hand over and took mine. His grasp was gentle and as warm as his eyes. “Want to tell me about that punk back there?”
I looked out the window. The truth was too ugly to put into words, and I refused to let my fear show. “Another time. He’s just a bully.”
Evan let the subject drop, but he gave my hand a light squeeze. “You’ll be safe with me,” he said, reading my mind.
I placed my other hand over his, and when I looked back at him, I saw a different Evan. His eyes were softer, his jaw less set than it had been at our dinners. Once again he’d surprised me by not acting McAllister-ish.
Just a job, just a job, just a job, I repeated in my head. But all the way to the East River, I kept a tight hold on his hand, perhaps too tight. Being clingy wasn’t like me. I was the ultimate independent, self-sufficient woman, not needing or accepting help from anyone, least of all a man I hated. I did things on my own.
“I’ll pay you back,” I blurted.
“For what?”
“For saving me the hotel expense,” I explained.
He choked back a laugh. “No, you won’t. You’re my girlfriend, and it’s time you came over to my place, or me to yours. And we both know your apartment isn’t in any shape to entertain guests.”
His statement made sense, but we didn’t have an audience. “Your fake girlfriend, and—”
His hand came to my cheek, startling me as he pulled my gaze to his. “Allie, if you say that one more time, I swear, I’ll take you over my knee and spank you. Do you understand me?”
I didn’t know how to process the way he slipped into using my old nickname like we were still carefree kids and our families weren’t mortal enemies. So I just nodded without really comprehending what I was agreeing to or why he’d gotten so angry at me for pointing out the obvious.
His eyes smoldered as they stayed locked on mine. “Good.”
All I’d done was offer to pay him back for the accommodations. Well, maybe it had been more demand than offer, and I could tone it down a notch. “Thank you for your help. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can.”
His thumb traced my chin before he dropped his hand away.
Tingles ran all the way to my toes, paralyzing my vocal cords on the way.
“And why would I want that?” he asked. Then, it was his turn to look away, leaving me confused.
The man was an incorrigible womanizer, constantly trading in one beautiful model or socialite for the next. An impossible question filled my head. Did Evan McAllister, the man half of Manhattan lusted after, find me attractive? I turned toward the window on my side of the car, not daring to glance his direction for fear I’d ask him something inappropriate or start another verbal brawl.
“Which entrance, sir?” Albert asked.
“We’ll need help, so street level rather than the garage.”
Albert nodded.
As we turned onto Central Park West, I stowed my uncomfortable question away and focused on our surroundings. My friend Google had helped me find an article that told me Evan’s address. The grandeur of a street that bordered Central Park in the asphalt jungle that was Manhattan was something to behold. I watched the park go by on one side of the car, elegant buildings on the other.
Albert stopped in front of a tall building with polished, brass-rimmed doors. An actual uniformed doorman opened the car door for us. “Good evening, Mr. McAllister.”
“Evening, Troy,” Evan said as he stepped out ahead of me. “We’ll need a luggage trolley.”
