“Oh, no,” he says. “I can see your brain spinning, and this, right here, is a bad idea.”

I turn toward him on the stool, my expression resolute. “I didn’t ask for your input. You’re not here to decide what the plan is. You’re only option is whether or not to back out.” I arch an eyebrow. “Are you ready to back out, Alex?”

He releases a tense breath and drives a hand into his hair. He stares ahead, at one of the Regency paintings along the wall. “I’m in,” is all he says.

I study his profile, again wondering just what he’s getting out of this. He claims he wants to liven up his dull life, and yet I’ve learned through my intense study into the human condition that people rarely give the whole truth.

How long ago did he lose his sister? Was it recent? Maybe her death is what triggered his sudden urgency to experience life. Alex’s tip of the iceberg is innocent enough, but what about the mass beneath?

Alex turns to face me, his body leaning in closer to mine…

“You want to fuck me,” I blurt.

I expect him to scoff, or pull an offended expression, or deny my claim. He does none of the above. Instead, Alex meets my unwavering gaze with a challenge in his pale-blues. “That would make this the most insane and desperate attempt to get laid.”

I shrug one shoulder. “I’m not here to judge. But we did meet in a club where you were looking for some action, and you did try to buy me for a night.”

The corner of his mouth hitches into a smirk. “Touché.” He removes his glasses and places them on the desk before he leans in, placing himself mere inches from my face. “What if I am attracted to you, Blakely? Is that really such an unreasonable idea, the two of us together?”

This bold and cocky side of Alex is interesting. I’m not sure if he’s simply trying out a new experiment or testing a theory, but it feels convincing. And I enjoy sex. I imagine I’d enjoy sex with Alex. In the event he makes it through this job unscathed, I’m sure there will be some intense, heated moments that are met with carnal response.

I push in closer to him, so he can feel my breath against his lips. “Don’t disappoint me…and don’t die. Then we’ll see where this goes.”

I brace my foot on his chair, right between his legs. His nostrils flare, those blue eyes darken with desire…right before I give his chair a hard push backward. The chair coasts a couple of feet, and he chuckles. “Cruel,” he says, shaking his head.

I stand and grab my bag, sling it over my shoulder. “What’s that?”