Loki's Game (3 page)

“Deceased.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do not be,” he said, and laid a hand over her fingers, still curled at the crook of his elbow. The contact sizzled. “They lived long, full lives and wherever they are, I know they are together.” They entered a room that she realized a moment too late was an elevator…not that it mattered. She wasn’t the type to be interested in intimate contact against the wall of a moving elevator. At least, she
hadn’t been before.
Lily reminded herself of his potential for being a psychopath, but the idea only heightened her desire for him. He didn’t have to actually murder her… there were so many other ways he could kill her.

“You were close?” she asked, and cleared her throat to shuffle the thoughts from her mind. He punched a button to take them upstairs—to the second of three floors in this sprawling monster of a house.

“We were. My father was my best friend. He taught me everything I know.”

Conversation fell aside as the doors opened and they entered a gallery of glass cases. Lily’s eyes widened as she took in the collection.

“Oh, my God,” she said with a breathy gasp, “how did you get all of this?”

“My father’s legacy,” Rowan said. “Please, have a look around.”

Lily gasped, her eyes widening in awe. The items in the cases were breathtaking—bits of history thought to be lost forever. She recognized many of the pieces, from early Mesopotamian to late Renaissance, each piece carefully preserved. She wandered through the rows, lost in the sheer majesty of the collection until movement on the far end of the room caught her attention. She had all but forgotten her host, but he seemed to pay no mind. He appeared perfectly content to watch her.

There was something in his eyes that frightened her…something dark and powerful.

Possessive.

This was not good. She realized this interview absolutely was something else; something for which no amount of school could prepare her. Lily felt trapped, as if she’d been lured in with luxuries only to be stalked by something sinister.
Psychopath. Lunatic. Serial Killer.

Shaking herself back to reality, she crossed the room to stand in front of him. She smiled as best she could while fighting to control the nervous shriek building in her throat.

“Thank you, Mr. Keir,” she said briskly, “for a lovely time and the tea, but I’m afraid I can’t work for you.” She extended her hand to him, and he took it, his thumb grazing the sensitive flesh of her wrist.

“That is too bad,” he said, regret tugging at the corners of his eyes. “But before you leave, might I ask why?”

Lily hesitated. Why did she want to leave? Was she afraid of him? Or was she afraid of herself if left in captivity with him for long periods of time? She didn’t know anymore. What she did know was that he was very handsome and very, very tempting, and this situation was spiraling out of control. Fast.

“Let’s just say it’s a matter of trust,” she said. “My mother always taught me to be wary of things that seem too good to be true.”

“You do not trust me,” he said, disappointment mixing with the regret on his face. He still held her hand, absently circling her skin with the pad of his thumb and sending little tingles of sensation coursing through her body. “I do apologize for that. Perhaps we should return to the sitting room to finish our discussion?”

“No,” she said. “It isn’t you I don’t trust.”

This revelation clearly puzzled him. His eyebrows knitted in confusion, and the left corner of his lip curled away from his teeth just enough to show the enamel behind it. “Who do you not trust, my dear?” There it was again…that unconscious affection which threatened her undoing. God, she was going to have to admit that she wanted him in a bad way.

“Myself,” she said in a quiet voice, looking away. “I don’t even know what this job is,” she continued. “All I know is that you want a woman my age, you like a sense of humor, and you are obviously too wealthy for your own good because your private collection is more impressive than the Smithsonian!” Catching her own irritated reflection in the side of one of the display cases, Lily sighed and turned away from him. “I don’t know what you could ever want with someone like me… I’m nothing.”

“You could not be more wrong,” he said, just behind her left ear. She jumped in surprise, once again very aware of his presence. “You, Lily Redway, are exactly what I have been looking for.”

She snorted and took a few steps to put some distance between them. She glanced at her reflection again. She was what could only be described as average. Average height, average weight, with average-length brown hair, and a butt she was convinced was too big. She always liked her bright blue eyes, but compared to the sparkling depth of his, even those appeared dull. He could never want her the way she craved him.

“I have not been completely honest with you, I am afraid,” Rowan said, again closing the distance between them. “I am looking for an assistant of sorts... A partner.”

“You said that.”

“But more than anything I am looking for a companion.”

She turned then to glare at him. “A girlfriend?”

“For a bit,” he admitted. “I need an assistant to manage my assets. Someone to talk to, to care about… and to one day care about me.” His gaze tangled around hers, and she felt its pull despite the fury boiling in her gut. “I want a mate.”

Lily’s brain went into overdrive. Anger filled her chest, bleeding over into her eyes and coating her tongue with venom. She’d known it from the start. It was all a setup. She’d told herself over and over it couldn’t be, that she was imagining the worst. Faced with the truth, she couldn’t believe he thought this silly plan would work.

“You think it’s all right to lure women in with your charm and wealth only to shoot them down because they aren’t good enough for you? Is this your way of telling me to buzz off?”

“No,” he said, extending his arms as if he were reaching for her. He stopped short, and dropped his hands back to his sides when she glared at him. “You are the only woman I have met in two months of searching whom I have even considered.”

“That’s supposed to be a compliment?”

“The highest.”

She deflated. How could she argue with the sincerity in his tone?

“Let me take you to dinner,” he said—almost pleaded. “Give me one more chance to explain all of this to you in a neutral setting. If you still wish to leave after you have heard my story, you can go and never look back.” He turned his hand palm up to her. “Please, Lily.”

She sighed. Insanity. That was the only way to describe what was going on. Complete and utter craziness. If she were smart, she would walk away, hormones be damned. Yet she couldn’t muster the impetus to put one foot in front of the other.

“Last chance, but I expect real answers,” she said, inwardly cringing at her own foolishness.

“Of course,” he agreed, smiling when she took his hand.

Rowan led her through the labyrinthine hallways that made up his home—and this was his home, she realized as they passed through the massive, gourmet kitchen, pausing only long enough to remove the smoking jacket he wore and lay it across the back of a barstool before resuming his trek into the garage—all the while explaining various pieces of his collection. The small talk he offered only accentuated his nervousness. Lily wasn’t sure she understood why he was trying so hard to impress her.

And she certainly wasn’t going to admit that it was working.

Inside the cavernous garage he led her to a small, black two-seater, laid back the top, opened her door, and helped her inside. The manners were good, but she was still confused. He was going to explain the scenario to her—not that she particularly wanted to know what was going on.

* * * * *

When the car stopped, it was in front of an upscale bistro fourteen blocks from his home. A young man in a full tux opened her door and helped her out, then took Rowan’s place behind the wheel. The car disappeared a moment later, leaving them standing on the sidewalk.

“I’ve never been here,” Lily said. Now it was her turn to be nervous. “It looks expensive.”

“No more than any other establishment I frequent. It is far less formal, however.”

Lily’s attitude flattened. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Rowan smiled. “Come on.” He pulled open the door and led her inside.

The little restaurant was artfully decorated, the walls and floors covered in shabby-chic, mismatched furniture and decorations. Along the far wall sat three pastry cases, filled with the most delectable sights. A few people milled about, discussing their dessert choices as Rowan led her to a small table near the window.

A waitress materialized at Rowan’s elbow, a bright smile turned on him. She appeared to not notice Lily’s presence at all. If she had, she was certainly doing a good job of pretending otherwise. Rowan ordered a bottle of white wine and two glasses of water, then asked for the afternoon’s special for both of them.

While his ordering for her was flattering, it was also slightly annoying. Such a move seemed pretentious considering they had only just met.

“It’s easier to order the special than attempt to read a menu here,” he said as if reading her mind. The sheepish, rakish grin he flashed was enough—Lily forgave him.

“Fair enough. So why are we here again?” she asked, letting her attention wander to their busy surroundings.

“I would like to apologize…first for the earlier deception,” he said, bringing her thoughts back to the present and her gaze back to his. “But my luck is not what I would call the best.” He relaxed down into the very old, very comfortable-looking wingback chair. This, she realized, was the real him, and cozy as it seemed, she wasn’t about to fall into the trap again. “When I meet women in a non-professional setting, one of two things happens without fail.”

“Let me guess,” Lily stopped him by holding up her palm between them, “your wealth either intimidates or entices them.” He looked up at her, surprised.

“Yes.”

“Oh, please,” she rolled her eyes, having lost interest in whatever game it was he was playing. She rose from her chair, angry. “Don’t hand me that spoiled rich victim crap. Of course money attracts the wrong kinds! But that still doesn’t give you the right to lure people in with the promise of a job.”

It was his turn to sigh. “I know.” Seeing the bereft look on his face, Lily deflated. She sighed and sank back into her chair. Heartbreak and loneliness flickered in his expression, which turned to surprise as she took his hand and patted it. His bare skin felt feverish.

“I get it,” she said. “The world is tough, and we all do what we can to get by.” She thumped his knuckles, making him cringe at the sudden sting. “But more money than God does not make up for such social ineptitude!”

He laughed out loud, a rich, hearty sound that surprised her and stirred her earlier feelings. It also temporarily stopped all movement in the building.

“You certainly do not mince words.”

“I know.” She paused then said, “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, was it? This plan of yours?”

Rowan shook his head. “No. It certainly was not.” He turned her hand over in his and dragged his palm over the length of her fingers. His skin was smooth, yet the pads of his fingers were rough with calluses. Her whole arm tingled.

“You are an amazing woman, Lily.” Her name rolled off his tongue like a caress. She swallowed, unable to hide the blush crawling up her neck.

“I’ve never heard that before.”

“Why is there no man in your life?” His fingers still toyed with her hand and wrist. God, it was hard to think with him doing that. She didn’t want to think at all despite the warning bells in her head. She had every intention of walking away, but now that the conversation had turned, escape would not be easy. Not that she wanted to escape anymore.

“Trust issues,” she said, trying hard not to purr as his fingers tickled their way to her elbow. It was inappropriate, but it felt so good. “I always seem to walk into the wrong relationships.” Rowan paused, and drew his hand back to hers.

“I am sorry, Lily.”

“For what?”

“For betraying your trust.” She started to speak when he held up his free hand to stop her, much as she had done to him moments earlier. “Let me finish, please.” Her mouth snapped shut with an audible click of teeth. “From the moment you walked through my door I knew you were special. You were so much different than anyone else I have…” he hesitated, “interviewed.” She bit back a pang of jealousy and her stomach flip-flopped at the thought that he’d given this speech more than once. She’d temporarily forgotten that this was an interview for the position of
wife.
“You carried yourself so gracefully. You have the intelligence to back up the mischief I see dancing in your eyes… I should have told you from the start what my intentions were. I should have been clear that I want more than an employee.”

“Am I allowed to speak now?”

Rowan smiled. “Of course. What else would you like to know? What would I need to do to make you stay?”

“First, you know this doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of working, right?”

“I had the feeling,” he said with a dry, brittle smirk.

“Now, I’m going to tell you why.”