Page 20

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” He grins as his hand snakes around my waist, the sudden heat of his body about as unappealing as his cigarette. “Allow me.”

I don’t see a handle, but whatever he touches opens the door. However, rather than out, the car door whooshes vertically. I make a noise of surprise, though cover it with another meant to convey my indifference.

“Very impressive,” I mutter, patting his chest. “Who do you think you are? Batman?”

“I can be whoever you need me to be,” he says in a low, rumbly tone.

“What’s this?” Narrowing my eyes, I slide my fingers wider as I feel something hard under them.

“My pen.”

“It’s a bit big for a pen.”

“Thank you.”

“Urgh.” That tone again. I roll my eyes. “That’s no pen. It feels like a knife. Why would you be carrying a knife?”

“Maybe it’s to open my mail.”

“There’s no way I’m getting in that tin box if you’re carrying a blade.”

I barely have time to inhale when he slides his hand into his pocket, tossing the knife to the manicured shrubbery.

“That’s not safe. A kid could pick it up.”

“Not in here.”

I frown. He frowns. Then he frowns some more as pulls out his phone. He hammers out a text, the offers me his hand.

“Someone will come and get it,” he grates out.

Itsk, mostly to hide my delight. “Your employees must love you.”

Once inside, I straighten my dress over my legs as Raif leans his forearm on the roof, watching.

“It must take a lot of effort to maintain that level of contempt for the world.”

“Oh, it’s not for the world.” It’s very hard to maintain an air of superiority when I feel like I’m sitting on the floor. I try anyway.

“I guess that makes me special.” The corner of his mouth crooks wickedly.

He has the kind of bone structure that would make a young Ian Somerhalder sob. And those cat’s eyes. Creation was very generous to him, but while he might be driving Batman’s car, Raif seems more supervillain.

“Special, yes,” I say with a sigh. “Let’s go with that.”

The echo of his laughter resounds even as he closes the passenger door. As he rounds the car, I sit on my hands to stop myself from biting my thumbnail. He climbs into the driver’sseat and, with a deep, throaty purr I feel deep in my pelvis, the car springs to life.

The imposing gates open automatically and, as we reach the road, I notice a few straggling partygoers climbing into a black cab, mostly worse for wear.

“Where did Tod go?” I ask suddenly. Though he got me into this, I’d barely given him a second thought since I’d walked out of the room.After throwing my champagne glass at him.

Raif barely shrugs. “I guess he left.”

“How do I know you didn’t stuff him in a suitcase and chuck him in the Thames?”

“You’ll have to take my word for it.”

“How do I know you’re not going to do the same to me?”