Kimberly Meter - Sex, Lies and Designer Shoes

He narrowed his gaze. “Careful, princess. One of these days your mouth is going to overload your ass.”

She ignored his warning. “I can’t believe you brought me to this place and now you think you’re going to sleep in the same bed with me. Unbelievable. Maybe I’ll just sleep in the car.”

“Negative. You stay where I can keep an eye on you. That’s the whole point of coming to a place like this. It might not look like much but from a defensive standpoint it’s pretty solid. A place like the Biltmore or the Four Seasons is a logistical nightmare. Too many people coming and going and it’s way too easy to pretend to be someone you’re not. Here, there’s no room service—which means no one is coming to the door that hasn’t been invited and all points of entry are easily watched. So, it’s not the lap of luxury but it will serve its purpose.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered, but something he said must’ve made sense because she stopped arguing even if she added, “I’m still not sleeping with you. You can take the floor.” She moved past him and closed herself in the bathroom.

“Just so you know, the idea of sleeping next to you isn’t high on my priority list, either,” he called out and she barked an incredulous laugh, mocking him.

As if he’d want to snuggle up to that spitting cobra? He’d rather chew off his own foot.

This was going to be the hardest he’d ever worked for a dollar, that was for damn sure.

* * *

THAT MAN HAD lost his mind if he thought he was going to climb into her bed as if he had a right to. She’d rejected hotter guys than him and he’d best remember that she was a catch! She sat on the closed toilet lid, quietly fuming. He had to be the single most annoying, rude jerk that she’d ever met—and that was saying a lot because she circulated in some pretty elite circles filled with self-important blowhards. At this rate, she was ready to surrender to whoever was threatening her family if it meant that she no longer had to put up with Rian Dalton. Who did he think he was? She had some of the richest, most eligible bachelors on two continents running after her and he had the gall to turn his nose up at her? That man was not only rude but an idiot, as well.

So what was she going to do, sit in the bathroom all day? No. He was not going to chase her off. She splashed some water on her face and then exited the bathroom with her chin held high. “I find it hard to believe that this is the best that you can find as a safe house. You can’t tell me that you bring politicians and other celebrities here to this awful place.” The slow, lazy smile told her exactly what she needed to know, and she clenched her fists as she howled. “You’re torturing me on purpose!”

But even as he didn’t rightly deny it, he didn’t admit it, either. “I find it important to adjust accordingly. This was the best place I could find that was suited to the situation,” he said as if she weren’t smarter than that, and she called him on it.

“Bullshit. You picked this place because it sucks and you don’t like me. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Not at all. I think you’re very smart. But you’re also a pain in the ass. Did I pick this place because I thought it might annoy you? Maybe. But my original reasons stand. It’s a safe place. Deal with it.”

“Deal with it? Deal with what ? The fact that there are probably more cockroaches in this place than there are actual people ? We are in the middle of nowhere, I’m not sure when these bedsheets were cleaned last and I’m fairly certain people have probably been murdered in their sleep here. Why would I feel safe here?”

“I doubt anyone has been murdered in this room.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better? I swear to God, if my father wasn’t wholeheartedly convinced that you were the only one who could do this job, I would walk out the door right now and gladly never see you again.”

“Well, I guess I should be thankful for small favors. One thing, though, are you going to be this screechy the whole time? If so, I will need to invest in earplugs. Your voice is grating.”

Grating? She sputtered. “You have a lot of nerve. I don’t know if I should be impressed by your decided lack of common sense or if I should feel pity for you because you’re an overwhelming idiot.”

He snapped his fingers with a smile. “Earplugs it is.”

She growled. The man was insufferable. “This room is about to lose its murder-free status because I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”

“Careful, making threats like that is a felony. I’d hate to have to arrest you. Although, you sitting in jail would definitely be a safe place. But I can’t promise that the accommodations are superior to what we have right here.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Princess, you’ll find that I dare much. Keep pushing and you’ll find out just how far I’m willing to go.”

There was something about the way he held her gaze that sent a dangerous thrill arcing through her nerve endings. There was no pushing him around—no bulldozing him. Men crumbled when she pushed. Not Rian. He not only pushed back, he dared her to push harder. There was something electric dancing between them even if neither wanted to admit it. And that stubborn mouth had the most sensual lips she’d ever seen. So he wasn’t hard on the eyes, she grudgingly admitted, finding it hard to pull her gaze away when she realized she’d been staring a little too long. Rian would be the perfect guy to have angry, I-hate-you sex with. If she were into that kind of thing. “So if there’s no room service, how exactly do you plan to feed me?” she finally asked.

He pulled a brown square package from his backpack and tossed it at her. She caught it in confusion. “What the hell is this?”

“That, my dear, is a military-issue MRE. I think it’s meat loaf. Not bad but not great, either. I don’t want to oversell it.”

She dropped the package as if it were made of poison and it landed on the floor with a dull thud. “Are you kidding me? Those things have, like, three thousand calories. I can’t eat that.”

“They fill the belly. I suppose if you get hungry enough you’ll dig in.”

“You can’t be serious. We’re not at war. There is no reason why I should have to eat something meant for soldiers in the field. And I don’t believe you eat these, either. If you had a steady diet of MREs, you’d be fat as a tick.”

He rubbed his belly. “I guess I just have a fast metabolism.”

There was no winning with this man. She threw her hands up. “I guess I’ll starve. And when you return me to my father, starving and near death because I haven’t had any food or water, something tells me he won’t be hot to write you a check.”

He sighed dramatically. “You are the biggest pain. Fine, I’ll go get you something to eat, but I’m talking burgers and fries, not some fancy French froufrou stuff. Got it?”

She supposed that was a victory of some sort. “It’ll do for now. But if that’s how you eat normally, your arteries must be clogged with gunk.”

“Don’t worry about my arteries—they’re just fine.”

“Are you always this much of a jerk with all your clients?” she asked. “Because you have terrible manners. I can’t imagine you’re saving all of that just for me.”

“How about you, princess? Your manners aren’t exactly great, either. I would ask how you have any friends at all but then you’re rich, so that probably helps. People can put up with a lot if they’re getting perks. Do you hand out Coach bags for the ones that hang around the longest?”

She drew back, stung. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t know me and you certainly don’t know what my friends are like.”