Amy Bensen 01 Escaping Reality (14 page)

has never had money.”

Avoidance is always my friend. His questions are not. “Very few

people have your kind of money.”

“Which shows my point.” he assures me.

“Which is what?”

“I have the money to spoil you and I plan to.” He doesn’t give me

time to argue, shifting the subject like he’s stamped the topic done,

approved, fact. “Do you have anything that will spoil or can we go straight

to the restaurant?”

I don’t want food. I want to lick that tattoo of his before I say

goodbye to him. That would keep him from asking questions. Until it’s over,

I remind myself. “I need to drop by my place and change.”

His hot gaze flickers down my bare legs, and up again. “I like you like

this.”

My cheeks heat and my sex clenches. “You’re in a suit.”

“I’ll change. You stay the way you are.”

I open my mouth and snap it shut before I tell him I like him just as

he is. That isn’t going to help my goodbye campaign, but then neither did

kissing him. I try again. “Either way, I want to freshen up.”

Liam pulls the car in front of his hotel and a doorman is instantly

helping me out of the car. By the time I’m standing, Liam is in front of me,

reaching for my bags, and he has them before I can stop him. “I’ve got

them,” I say, reaching out to take them, and darn it, our hands collide,

sending a tingling sensation up my arm.

My eyes dart to his, and I see the awareness in his stare. He too has

felt the connection.

Maybe this is only sex to him, or some need to protect me I can’t

understand, but it’s real. It exists and it is powerful.

“I’ll meet you at the hotel bar in thirty minutes,” I choke out from my

suddenly dry throat.

“You said you didn’t want to go to the hotel with me.”

“To your room. Hotel bars are open to the public.”

His eyes narrow, suspicion etched in their depths. “I’ll help you with

your bags.”

“They’re paper light. Let me hurry. I’ll meet you in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll walk you to your door.”

“If you come to my apartment, we’ll get distracted.” For once, I get

to speak the truth.

He arches a brow. “Is that supposed to discourage me?”

“Yes,” I replied tartly, and the urge to kiss him one more time before

I deliver the goodbye is too intense to fight. I push to my toes and lean in to

him, hands flattening on the hard wall of his chest, and press my lips to his.

He is stiff, unyielding, and I am instantly uncomfortable, second-guessing

my boldness. I begin to pull back when he drops my bags to the ground and

pulls me close, his hand sliding up my back, his tongue licking into my

mouth in one long, hot sweep that has me moaning into his mouth.

“You’re no recluse,” I accuse when his lips leave mine, shocked at the

scene we’ve certainly made, embarrassed to even look around and find out

who is watching.

“Or I just want to make sure you know how much I want you, no

matter what the price.

And you’re right. If I come with you to your apartment, we won’t

leave anytime soon.” He sets me away from him, and to my horror grabs

my bags from the ground and looks inside. His gaze lifts, brow arching.

“Plasticware?”

The warmth his declaration about wanting me had created turns

cold. “I haven’t had time to unpack.”

“So your things were delivered today?”

“My things are just fine.”

I reach for the bags and he shackles my wrist. “Amy—”

A horn honks, saving me whatever command is certain to come out

of his too-tempting mouth. “We’re making a scene. I’ll see you in a few

minutes.”

His jaw flexes, tension etched in his face. “I’ll be waiting.” He releases

my bags and my arm and I waste no time darting away. I am so tired of

running away.

Chapter Ten

Twenty minutes later I’ve changed into a simple, versatile little black

lace dress I scored for $29 on a bargain rack. With my heels on it’s a bit

sexy, but I tell myself I’m dressing up to feel confident, not to impress Liam.

I’m so good at lying, I almost convince myself it’s the truth.

I check myself in the mirror and argue with myself about ending

things with Liam. I begin with all the reasons I don’t have to say goodbye.

I’ve dated other men. I had a dorm mate, albeit we didn’t bond, but we

lived together. Liam can handle himself far better than anyone I have ever

known. But he is also the only person I’ve ever known with the resources to

dig into my past and get himself killed in the process. People have died. I

am not hiding for no reason. He could die. I won’t let that happen.

Resolve in place, I head for the elevator and ride to the bottom level.

The doors ding open and I am startled to find a denim-clad Jared standing

there. He grins at the sight of me, all sexy male charm and hotness.

“Ditched the t-shirt, did you?”

“I did,” I agree, finding myself smiling despite my nerves over Liam. I

step out of the car and expect Jared to move aside to catch the door. He

doesn’t and we are toe to toe. The sense of familiarity with this man is

instant, and I freeze, unable to move away. I am terrified, and not of Jared.

Terrified of this piercing black hole that I know too well will suck me into a

place where everything and everyone is a potential threat. I swore I would

never return to this place but I feel the fingers of the beast reaching for me,

pulling me inside.

“You’re supposed to take that out of the box.”

I blink Jared back into focus and the very fact that I have to says a lot

about my state of mind. “Box?”

He glances down and I briefly follow his gaze to the iPhone box I

wasn’t able to fit into my small purse. “Oh.” I lift it slightly. “This. I like the

box. I’m a rebel like that.”

He laughs. “A woman out to seduce me.”

I snort, a ridiculous sound that makes my answer all the more

meaningful. “I’m the last person to seduce anyone.”

His light brown eyes fill with the amusement I intended to spark.

“You had me at the t-shirt and high heels,” he teases.

“You are never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Probably not.” He flicks a quick look up and down my body. “Does

the dress mean your things arrived okay?”

This is almost the same question Liam asked me earlier and my mood

swings from comfortable in our neighborly banter to completely uneasy. I

make a weak attempt at a smile.

“All is well in Amy-land.” I’ve barely spoken the lie when the cell

phone begins a mocking ring from inside the box. Jared arches a brow and I

quickly say, “Late to a dinner thing. I should run.”

“So you have friends here already?”

I avoid a lie I might have to remember later and shrug. “I guess the

t-shirt and heels were an ice-breaker. I’m going to head out. Goodnight,

Jared.”

“Goodnight, Amy.”

There is a softer quality to his voice I now think I’ve heard before. I

have no idea why, but something about his tone strikes a memory and a

chill slides up and down my spine. Spots begin to form in front of my eyes,

and oh no. No. No. No. Let it stop now. Please let this not be happening.

But it’s too late. The pinching sensation in my forehead I know all too well,

but haven’t felt in years, begins to form. I sway and Jared grabs my arm.

Reflexively, my hand goes to his chest.

“Whoa,” he murmurs. “What just happened?”

I can’t open my eyes. I don’t even try. “Blood sugar,” I whisper,

reverting to the excuse I’d used years before when these spells hit me. “I’m

fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” He sounds worried. Worried is not good.

Worried will get me an ambulance and attention I don’t need.

I inhale and the air feels like lead in my lungs, but the pain is good. It

wakes me up and brings me back. “I am.” I force my lashes open and the

spots begin to fade. Relief washes over me. I am already past this episode.

“Really,” I assure Jared. “ I already feel better.” Except that my hand is on

his chest. Appalled, I jerk my hand back.

He chuckles. “Easy. You’ll tumble over.”

“No. I’m fine. I’m steady now.”

He hesitates but lets my arm go. “That kind of reaction will kill a

man’s confidence, you know.”

I doubt seriously this man has confidence issues. “Sorry. I was just

embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His voice is a gentle caress.

More of that familiarity creeps into my mind and the spot in my

forehead starts to tingle at the moment my phone starts to ring again. This

time the sound is music to my ears, offering me a welcome escape from

another episode and from Jared.

Jared’s lips quirk. “You really need to ditch the box.”

“Or get a bigger purse,” I say, sounding like a complete idiot, which

fits perfectly with me touching a stranger’s chest. I am officially ready to get

the heck out of here. “Thanks for the save. I’ll see you around.” I don’t wait

for an answer. For the second time today, I take off running, only this time

I’m running to Liam, not away from him, and that feels so much more right

than the goodbye I have to deliver with the phone in my hand.

In a short dash across the street, I approach the hotel in a gust of

wind that has my dress lifting. With a gasp, I struggle to capture the skirt

and juggle the phone. Somehow, I shove the material down and through

the wild mass that, thanks to my new purchase, was my sleekly flat-ironed

hair, I watch the doorman smirk and nod. Cheeks heating, I hurry past him,

wondering if he also witnessed Liam and me tongue-dancing in front of the

hotel earlier. This night is off to a grand start. I was right when I decided to

change clothes. I need all the confidence I can get to survive the next

fifteen minutes.

Stopping inside the doorway, I spot the sign to the restaurant/bar

directly ahead. Even here, a good twenty feet away, I can already hear the

rumble of voices over the sound of music coming from inside the archway

entry. I might not know Liam well, but my instincts say he will not like my

choice of meeting location.

As if he’s heard me, Liam exits the bar, irritation etched on his

handsome face, and his eyes collide with mine.

His expression softens and warms, and I watch the frustrations of

moments before melt away, as if seeing me makes everything all right. I do

not move to meet him, frozen in the bittersweet knowledge that seeing me

has pleased him. He walks toward me, his jacket gone, his lean masculinity

accented by the dark dress pants and a fitted blue shirt; he is power and

grace, the epitome of dark good looks.

The instant he is before me, I am captivated by his deep, blue stare,

lost in a sea of warm, drugging waters, and I do not speak. I want to swim

just a little longer, but too quickly, his gaze lowers to the box I am holding

and my gut twists with the knowledge that my time is up. I hold it out to

him. “I can’t take this.” And while I am proud of how strong my voice

sounds, my hand shakes, practically drawing a storyboard of my emotions

that Liam is too smart to miss. Anger fills me at how the past has made me

weak. I should never have taken the job at the museum and let it back into

my life. But then, I would never have met Liam and I’m not sure I can wish

him away, even if I have to walk away.

“Let’s talk about it over dinner.”

I shake my head, more at my desire to agree than at his words. “I

can’t go to dinner. I can’t see you anymore.” I sound like I mean it. Almost.

Those piercing blue eyes sharpen, and the dark edginess he wears

like a second skin ramps up about a hundred notches. Seconds tick by and I

try to think of some appropriate thing to say when I of all people know less

is better. Should I turn and leave? Yes. I should leave.

Actually, I’m still holding the phone. He needs to take the phone. He

takes the phone but he doesn’t stop there. He laces the fingers of his free

hand with mine. “Come with me.”

My eyes go wide and I don’t have time to argue. He’s already tugging

me along with him and not toward his hotel room, and I don’t have time to

consider why that disappoints me. Not when he’s headed toward the exit,

which most likely means he intends to go to my apartment, where he will

discover the delivery of my things has not taken place.

Desperation kicks in and I rush forward, putting myself in front of

him, flattening the hand he isn’t holding on his chest and digging in my

heels. “Take me to your room.” I can’t even believe I’ve just said that, but

the warm spot in my belly won’t let me take it back.

Liam’s jaw flexes. “You can’t see me anymore but you want me to

take you to my room?”

His voice is tight, a band of steel wrapping each word. He’s angry. I

don’t know why, though the possibilities are many. I’ll figure it out when

we are effectively detoured from my apartment and what will surely lead

him to dig where it is dangerous to dig. “Yes. Yes. I want to go to your

room. I need to, ah…lick your tattoo goodbye.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

My cheeks heat at the edge I’ve heard in his voice but I will myself

past my discomfort and recover. “Liam—”

He takes a small step and I dig in my heels and wrap my fingers