Donna Hill - Longing and Lies

She entered the room and watched him for an instant. He was turned halfway away from her, running his finger along the frame of a photograph that rested on a table in the short hall. His body was fluid almost as if it moved to some sultry beat in his head, so different from the tightly coiled man of earlier in the day. “All ready,” she announced.

He only turned his head in her direction, let his eyes run over her for a hot flash of an instant. “Cool. Let’s go.”

Elliot opened the door for her and as she passed him she caught the faintest hint of something manly, a clean and seductive scent that was more him than off the shelf. She liked it. She locked the door behind them.

“Did you have someplace in mind?” she asked as they walked down the stairs to the outside door. She felt his heat as he walked inches from her on the wide staircase.

“Why don’t I surprise you?”

She glanced up at him as he reached around her to open the door. His arm brushed her shoulder and she was certain she felt a jolt of heat race down to the pads of her fingers.

“I like surprises,” she said. “Most of the time.”

“We’ll hope for the best.”

They stepped outside into the cool spring night. He pointed to a midnight blue Jaguar parked across the street.

“You’re getting paid too much, or I’m in the wrong business,” she teased him as he opened the door of the lush automobile, its interior still carrying the scent of brand-new leather.

“Every now and then you have to treat yourself, especially in this business,” he said, as they settled in the car. “Unfortunately, I’m out of the country so much I rarely get a chance to drive it.”

Ashley fastened her seat belt. “How often do you…travel?”

He put the car in gear and she felt the gentle hum of the motor vibrate beneath her. Or was it more than the car that had her vibrating?

His jaw tightened. “I’m usually out of the country eight to ten months a year.” A hardness settled over his face, sending his prominent features into sharp relief.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s obvious that’s not something you want to talk about.”

He turned his head in her direction as he pulled up to a red light. For a moment he took in her profile, the slight jut of her chin, the long lashes that shadowed her eyes, the pert nose and firm set of her glossy lips. Everything about the way she stared straight ahead to the line of her shoulders indicated that he’d done it again—went on the attack for no good reason. At least none that anyone other than himself would understand. It was complicated, too complicated to explain the kind of limbo life that he lived. His constant sense of disconnection, waking up day after day not knowing where he was or who he was pretending to be.

“Sorry,” he offered. “Tough topic. Let’s talk about something else.” He gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as her intoxicating scent wafted beneath his nose.

“Have you ever lived with a woman before?” she boldly asked.

Elliot tossed his head back and laughed from the pit of his gut. “You’re definitely direct,” he said, still chuckling.

A tiny smile teased the corners of her mouth. “So I’ve been told,” she tossed back. She angled her gaze in his direction. “Well?”

He drew in a breath and relaxed against the smooth leather interior. “Actually, no. This will be a first for me.” He turned to look at her and their gazes bumped against each other for what felt like a blissful eternity.

A car horn blared behind them. They both jerked away from the thing that held them in place. Elliot pressed down on the gas and took them across the intersection.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh, what about you?”

“No.” She paused. “Guess it’ll be the first time for the both of us.”

His mind went racing off in a million directions at once, all of them forcing him to adjust his position in his seat. Was this the same uptight, headstrong woman he’d met earlier? He knew there was fire beneath her she-warrior armor, but this was the kind of fire that burned from the inside out. Then his years of dealing with adversaries and those pretending to be something that they weren’t kicked in.

“The lounge is on the next block,” he said, changing subjects to one in which he could control. “Hopefully I can find a parking space.”

Ashley instantly noticed the shift in attitude and the sudden cool breeze in the car. She flicked a brow in dismissal and folded her arms. Just like I said in the beginning , she mused to herself, a pain in the ass. This was going to be a long night.

They spent the next few minutes of the drive in an unspoken truce of silence. Ashley zeroed in on the passing traffic and pedestrians as if they were creations of the great Da Vinci and she had been commissioned to unlock the mysteries of the swaths of color and movement. In reality she didn’t see a thing, blinded by flashes of red as her temper continued to boil. Her body curled into a tighter and tighter knot of tension as the minutes ticktocked in her head.

Why was it so easy for him to irritate her to the point of distraction? She’d had her share of relationships. She knew how to handle men—both casual and serious. Elliot Morgan was a new breed, however. Her lips tightened into a line so thin as to be almost invisible.

She was so intent on her ire that she didn’t realize they’d come to a stop until her door was pulled open and Elliot’s large hand was extended for her to take. She blinked and looked up into his face. Whatever it was that had her coiled tight enough to snap, slowly began to unwind, and she felt the slow thud of her heart against her chest. The veil of red that had descended in front of her eyes was lifted, and even in the twilight of evening she could see sunshine.

She made herself breathe as she placed her hand in his and felt the strength of his grasp pull her to her feet. He didn’t bother to step back. When she stood there was a mere breath that separated them. For a moment they faced each other and she sank into the depth of his dark eyes and traveled to exotic places along the planes of his face.

“It’s right up the street,” he said, his voice low, stroking her below her waist as surely as if he actually touched her there.

She bobbed her head and muttered, “Okay.”

He moved back to give her room and she felt as if a chasm had opened in front of her and she longed for the security of his warmth and closeness. Somehow he managed to reach around her to close the car door, having her momentarily encircled in his warmth. He gave her a half smile and extended his hand in the direction of the club. Ashley fell in step beside him doubling her pace to keep up with his long stride.

The half-block-long line signaled that they had arrived.

“Wow, it must be packed,” Ashley said. “We’ll never get in.” She peered around the line of bodies.

“Not a problem.” He took her hand and walked her past the crowd, right up to the front door. “Hey, Lou,” he greeted the muscled man at the door. When Lou’s tight gaze and even tighter expression landed on Elliot, he actually smiled.

“Oh, man! Good to see you, brother. You have a lovely guest, I see.” He stepped aside to let them pass.

Ashley smiled.

“Be sure to see Gina,” Lou continued. “She’ll hook you up with some good seats.”

Elliot clapped Lou on the back. “Thanks, man.”

“For you…anytime. Don’t be a stranger.”

Elliot had yet to let go of Ashley’s hand, and the longer he held it the more she liked it.

“I take it you’ve been here before,” she teased.

Elliot chuckled. “Yeah, the owners are friends of mine. Nick Hunter and Sam Blackstone. If they’re around I’ll be sure to introduce you…in case you and your friends want to stop by sometime.” He guided her to the hostess podium. “Gina,” he cooed at the modelesque woman, who was at least six feet tall with sharp Ethiopian features—voluminous dark eyes, sweeping forehead and high cheekbones. Her long, slender neck gave her an even more regal appearance. Her ruby-red lips spread into a slow smile as her long lashes lowered over her eyes. She leaned forward taking Elliot’s face in her hands and kissing each cheek.