Page 30 of Lennox Lane

She slid in with a muttered curse as Lennox closed the door and rounded the hood, smiling. By the time he got behind the wheel, he looked over to see Lane with her arms crossed and one orange mule bouncing with restrained violence. The expensive scent of her filled his car with warmth and sweetness immediately. Everything about her, down to her fragrance choices, slid under his skin like it owned a key.

He started the engine as soft R&B flowed through the speakers, low and lush. A woman’s voice sang about love being a bad idea that she kept choosing anyway.

Lane looked at the dashboard. “Really?”

“What?”

“This playlist?”

“I love R&B, you should remember from St. Barts,” he reminded her.

He pulled away from the curb, neither of them talking. The silence was crowded with everything they refused to say. Streetlights moved over Lane’s face in soft flashes. She sat angled toward the window pretending his presence didn’t affect her. Lennox let her pretend for almost three minutes before placing his hand on her thigh.

Lane looked down at it, then at him, before asking, “Do you want to lose that hand?”

“No.”

“Then why is it on me?”

“Because it belongs there,” he let her know.

Her laugh was sharp. “You’re a walking HR violation.”

“I don’t work for you,” he laughed.

“You work my damn nerves,” she grumbled.

His thumb moved once, slow against the warm fabric of her pants, making her breath catch.

“Lennox,” she whined.

He kept his eyes on the road. “You had no business going on that date.”

She turned toward him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I had all the business; I’m single.”

“Technically.”

“There is no technicality. I’m single-single. Legally, spiritually, contractually, sexually when I choose⁠—”

“No.”

Her head jerked back. “No?”

“No.”

Lane blinked slowly. “Did you just tell me no about my own body?”

“I said no to the idea of you belonging to somebody else.”

“I don’t belong to anybody,” she said incredulously.

“You belong to me, Lavender.”

She laughed so hard it startled him. Not because it was funny. She was outraged at the ever-present audacity of this man.