Bound For Me (11 page)

But she didn’t want that humiliation for her father.
 

Truth? She’d been so lost after discovering what her dad had done. That he’d lied to her. Lost her money. Lost her home. Lost his dignity.

Coming here was the one idea that she could cling to. To come to Summerhill and see them for herself and find out how fake they were. Because she was certain they
were
fake. She wanted to prove that this whole perfect life image that they sold—that they promised
anyone
could have—was a facade. Then she could go back to her father and show him something—anything—to get him to pull himself together.

“You said you were supposed to hate me,” he said.

She shot him a startled glance.

“Last night, when you learned who I was. You said you were supposed to hate me.” He leaned over her again. “Why?”

“I
do
hate you.” She loathed him at this moment.

“No. You don’t.”

She gasped. Of all the breathtakingly arrogant things to say?

“You wanted me before you knew who I was,” he said. “You still want me now.”

“No. I don’t,” she ground out a mocking echo of his arrogance.

“I don’t really want to want you either,” he smiled wryly. “I don’t trust you.”

He didn’t? “I guess that means we’re even.”

“You don’t trust
me
?” He cocked his head, eyes widening in disbelief. “I did everything in my power to ensure your safety last night, but you don’t trust me?”

“You
lied
to me.”

“I didn’t.”

“By omission.”

“But what information are
you
omitting now, Savannah?”

Her mistrust sharpened. “How do you know my name?” she asked. “
When
did you find out my name?”

Did he know who she was? Did he know about the thread connecting them? And if he did—
when
did he know?

He met her gaze square on. “Why are you here, really? Don’t tell me it’s for the good tips.”

If he thought that she didn’t need money, then he didn’t know what had happened—how broke she was.

For a long moment she stared at his chiseled features. So hard edged. Was it really for a charity fundraiser that he’d ended up looking so
ruthless
?

Suddenly it seemed pointless. The whole mess was hopeless. Like her father—like her life. She leaned back against the pillow. “I want to go to my apartment.”

He hesitated, then frowned. “You can’t stay there alone.”

Oh for heaven’s sake, she just wanted some
space
. “Why not?” She sat upright again. “Don’t try to steal my independence. You can’t make it seem as if
nowhere
is safe. I’m assuming those guys have disappeared, right?”

He pressed his lips together for a moment, then answered. “Yes, they checked out of their hotel unit early.”

“Then I need to have faith that the rest of the people in this town are honest.” She shot him another pointed look. “
Almost
all the people.”

“You don’t think I’m honest either?”

“Jury’s out,” she snapped.

Connor chuckled, relieved to see her fighting spirit return so quickly. A couple seconds ago she’d looked defeated. It wasn’t a look he’d liked.
 

But damn, it turned out she sure knew how to dance. Not giving a thing away, was she? No answers. No info. But he saw the fatigue circling her eyes. Now wasn’t the time to push for what he wanted. Nor for everything
else
he wanted.

Not going there. Not messing with her more. Get a freaking grip.

“I’ll drive you to your apartment.” He made himself stand and turn away before he got harder.

“I don’t need you to do that,” she answered, back to her frigidly snappy self.

“I know you don’t
need
me to. But I’m going to.” He hated the thought of her being alone, but he didn’t trust himself not to start pushing her for all the
wrong
things. Jeez, the woman had to be feeling horrendous, as if she’d be wanting to get hot and heavy this instant?

And he didn’t want to either, right? All he wanted was to know what she
really
wanted.
 

“Get your boots on, there’s a bathroom just through that door,” he nodded his head in the direction. “I’ll be waiting out in the lounge.”
 

He’d have laughed at the look of profound relief on her face, if he weren’t feeling so edgy. He didn’t bother grabbing a coat, too hot. He buzzed down to the porter to bring his car round the back entrance.
 

She emerged from the bedroom, looking too pale and wobbly. Like a freaking newborn lamb. But was she as innocent?

He drew her to the elevator rather than the narrow spiral stairs.

“This is a guest apartment?” She gave the lounge a vague glance.

“Staff,” he answered blandly, not about to elaborate. He jabbed the elevator button a couple more times.

She didn’t question more. Yeah, not really one for small talk. In fact, she didn’t utter a word during the entire drive to her building. Was out of the car before he could get around to open her door for her. Refusing to act the invalid wasn’t she?

Refusing to accept any help whatsoever.

His irritation spiked and he walked her right to her door, just to annoy her.

And because he couldn’t quite leave her yet.

“Any headaches, nausea, anything. Call me. Or if you can’t bring yourself to call me, at least call Austin.” He handed her a card with Austin’s mobile number on it.

“You think I’m ungrateful,” she said baldly, not looking up at him.

“I think you’re confused.” He ran his finger over her beautiful mouth. “
I’m
not the baddie here.”

But
she
just might be.

She’d frozen under his touch. He couldn’t hear her breathing, wasn’t sure he was breathing either.

Lust surged. He wanted to kiss her, everywhere. He wanted to see her this time—to watch her as he made her come. Wanted to taste her the way he hadn’t the other night. Wanted to hear those gorgeous moans again. Wanted to feel her utterly naked body under his, over his, embracing his—wet and writhing again.

She was so fucking
hot
.

And now? Now her eyes were wide and her breathing had restarted, raggedly. Color had returned to her cheeks and—

She stepped back, turning to quickly stab her key in the lock.
 

He stood on the doorstep, sending her a mocking smile as she slammed the door in his face. He heard the lock snib.
 

She’d bolted. Literally.

Slowly he walked back down the path to his car, welcoming the bitterly cold breeze. It reminded him of what really mattered. He shouldn’t have gotten involved with her at all. Last night he should have taken her to Austin’s medical suite and put her out of his mind.

He’d wasted enough time flicking ‘stop’ and ‘go’ switches on the slopes as it was in this last week, let alone chase skirt now.
 

If he wanted to push his company forward, he needed to eliminate distractions.

Savannah Hughes was the ultimate distraction.

But damn if she wasn’t strong. Damn if she wasn’t sexy. Damn if he didn’t still want her with every fiber of his being.

And damn he was a fool.
 

He didn’t trust her. She’d been evasive. Hadn’t denied his accusation. Hadn’t answered his questions. She was worse than a distraction, she was quite possibly
dangerous
.

He knew the adage—keep friends close, enemies closer. He needed to be certain she wasn’t a threat to his company. And there was that part of him that needed to know that she wasn’t threatened in any way.

And the only way to be certain of both those things, was to keep her very, very close.

Chapter Six

“You’re not serious?” Luca looked up from his iPad when Savannah walked in through the back entrance. “You’re not working tonight.”

“Of course I am,” She tugged off her jacket and hung it in the small staff cupboard. “You told me only yesterday morning how worried you were about staff shortages while your parents were away.”

“We can manage tonight.” He walked round the bench and pulled her jacket back out again.

“What, you’re going to stop kissing Krista all the time?” She raised her eyebrows, surprised at his rare display of authority.

He held the jacket out to her. “You’re not working the shift.”

Yes, she was. She’d stood under the hot shower for hours this morning, trying to wash away the icky feeling. Couldn’t. She’d tried to sleep. Couldn’t. Tried to watch a movie on the small television in the sparsely furnished unit. Couldn’t concentrate. But the pathetic thing it wasn’t the jerks she was thinking about all the time.

It was Connor.

So no way was she spending another minute trapped in her too-small room over thinking everything to do with
him
.
 

“You’re short staffed. Said yourself you needed a more experienced bartender to cope with the crowds. I’m it. Dante’s not ready to face it on his own yet.”

Dante was Luca’s younger brother, only just legal to even work there.
 

“You were
drugged
. I’m not even sure I should be opening tonight.”

“Of course you should. And I’m here to run the bar while you run the restaurant. It wasn’t anything to do with St Clair’s. It wasn’t your fault. If they ever catch who it was… I don’t see why the restaurant’s name will even be mentioned. I was the one dumb enough to leave my water-bottle unattended.”

 
“It wasn’t
your
fault.” Uncharacteristic anger lit his eyes.

“No, I know. And I’m feeling fine,” she said in hurried surprise. “So let’s get on with it, in twenty minutes there’ll be tribes of customers wanting their favorite drinks.”

“They can wait for Krista and I to make them, we can manage without you tonight.”

“But you need to be on the restaurant side. You know you do.” She shrugged. “Your father
never
has to know I did the shift.”
 

Bill wasn’t the easiest of bosses and she didn’t imagine he was a brilliant father either. Having him as both must be a nightmare.
 

Luca still didn’t look happy. Reluctant respect grew in her.
 

“Luca,” she put her hand on his wrist. “This is the first time he’s let you take charge. In the week since he’s been away, your takings are up and you’ve finally gotten the girl of your dreams. Don’t you want to show him you can cane it? That you deserve more opportunities?”

She knew Luca wanted out of his father’s grip.

But he still hesitated. “It’s not Dad I’m worried about. It’s Connor.”

Seriously?
“Connor is
not
your boss. Just because he owns most of the town doesn’t mean he can rule everyone in it. There’s still such a thing as free will.”

Luca looked down, a small smile tweaking his mouth. “You want to let go of me? Your nails are going to leave marks and Krista will get the wrong idea.”

“Sorry.” She snatched her hand off him. Then she sighed, swallowed her pride and dropped the act. “Luca, I don’t want to sit home alone tonight. I’d rather be busy. Please.”

He hesitated a moment longer. Then nodded. “But you feel even slightly unwell, or threatened or—”

She turned to fetch a clean apron from the linen cupboard, waving a hand at him. She didn’t need his kind concern. She was okay. She was
always
okay.

She freshened up and walked out to the bar, taking a moment to check over the stock and mentally run through the bar’s cocktail list. The current crop of party-girls in town were really into the mixes. All the more reason to make sure she was on form and she had less than half an hour before those doors opened—except they swung wide now.
 

“What are you doing here?” How had the words left her mouth before she’d
thought
them?
 

But
thinking
when first confronted with Connor in jeans and black tee was impossible. He was infuriatingly handsome. And in a pissy mood.

“I was about to ask you the same question.” He glared at her, stalking across the empty bar space.

She glared right back. Not gonna bother answering.

“Come on, I’ll give you a lift to your apartment.”

What, like he was her minder? She lifted her chin but then saw him mirror the aggressive movement, saw the flicker in his eyes.

He was spoiling for a fight and she got the vibe the guy would do anything to win.
 

So
she
drew a steadying breath.
Stay cool
. She always stayed cool.

“Thanks anyway, but I’m not leaving yet.” She smiled at him.

The arrogant man leaned right over the bar and tugged at the string of her apron. “You’re
not
working. You’re taking sick leave.”