“I do their books, and when they’re out of town, I keep an eye on things.”
“So you’re close friends with them?”
She went still from the very inside. Still and cold. “Why does this suddenly feel like an interrogation?”
He didn’t answer that, either, and she slid her hand down his taut arm to grab the flashlight, which she lifted to see his face.
He didn’t flinch but looked right at her from those once dreamy eyes, which now held more than a hint of the hunger she’d just experienced.
And something else, something that made alarms go off in her head, even more than the handcuffs.
Worry. “Ian. You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“Let’s just get out of here,” he said, turning away.
Oh, no. She wasn’t going anywhere without answers. So she pulled him back, unfortunately dropping the flashlight to do so.
It hit hard, and, given that the light flickered and went out, it also broke.
“Two for two,” he murmured.
His low, slightly gruff voice, disembodied in the dark, seemed to ruffle something within her.
Or maybe the kiss had done that.
Or just his close proximity. Who knew? All she knew was she couldn’t take a breath without him knowing, and vice versa. Granted they were handcuffed, but they could have made more room between them. Neither of them had. Even after all this time, even after their awkward meeting and more awkward second meeting up here, something still shimmered between them.
It was undeniable. It could have been the dark, or the past, or simply the fact that it’d been far too long since she’d been held or touched by a man.
No, that didn’t compute. It wasn’t being touched by a man that had taken over common sense.
It was being touched by him.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said again. “We’ll talk then.”
All right, she was game for that, and she rattled the handcuffs. “Key?”
He shifted his weight and she guessed he was searching his pockets, a suspicion confirmed when she heard him patting himself down with growing agitation. “Ian?”
“Yeah. Hold on.”
More rustling, accompanied by a roughly uttered, “Ah, hell.”
“What?”
“Just a second.”
Okay. But the longer she stood there listening to him fumble around in his pockets, the more she knew. “Let me guess.”
“Don’t.”
“You lost your keys.”
“I did not lose them.”
“Uh-huh.” She felt like laughing. How that was possible was beyond her. “Then, where are they?”
“Obviously, they’re in the last place I had them.”
“So you’re still absentminded,” she said, and let go of the laugh in her throat.
“Yeah. And you’re still a smart-ass.” He said this utterly without annoyance.
In fact, it sounded pretty darn affectionate.
A flash of lightning lit the room in a blue-white glow, followed by a heart-pounding boom of thunder. In that split second, her gaze locked with his.
Not all of that flash of electricity came from the storm-not even close. Nope, most of it came from the combustible, explosive, chemical-like attraction between the two of them, and quite frankly, after all this time, it shocked her. “Can you still do that layup?” she whispered.
“If I say yes, are you going to kiss me again?” He let out a rough breath. “No. Don’t answer that. Look, the handcuff key is a small one, all by itself. It must have dropped from my pocket in the shuffle. We need another flashlight.”
“I have a spare in my office.”
“Let’s go.”
She wanted to know why it was such a bad idea to kiss him. She wanted to know a whole helluva lot of things, like why he was really here and why every time she took a step forward, he took one back.
She moved toward the door, forgetting that one of the drawers was still open. She’d have fallen flat on her face if he hadn’t encircled her waist with an arm and hauled her back against him.
“Careful,” he said in her ear, his voice low and thrillingly gravelly.
She could have told him that the only thing in danger was her heart, but they shuffled their way out of the antiquities office together, which meant lots of banging into each other to keep their balance in the dark.
Chloe had never been so aware of a man in her life. “Here,” she said when they finally got down the hallway to her office. She opened the door. Candlelight still flickered on the walls, relieving the darkness they’d had in the hallway and the auction house.
She glanced at Ian standing at her side, letting her gaze drift over his wavy hair, his furrowed eyebrows indicating he was deep in thought as he took in her office.
He caught her staring. “What?” he asked.
“I just can’t believe that it’s you. You’ve changed, Ian.”
“Grown up, I hope.”
Yes, and developed a razor sharpness that suggested he was no longer all fun and games. His face was tanned, more rugged now than baby smooth, and carved in classic lines that were admittedly drool-worthy.
He’d definitely changed. Where he’d once been lanky and lean to the point of being too thin, he’d bulked up some, all corded muscle and sinew wrapped in an undeniable masculinity. There was something else, too, something about him that suggested a will to walk into danger, a readiness to face whatever came his way. She grabbed her spare flashlight out of a drawer, watching as he leaned over her desk and blew out her candles.
“Fire hazard,” he said, and when he’d blown out the last one, plunging them back into darkness, she gripped the flashlight but didn’t turn it on.
Truth was, she liked being in the dark with him. She didn’t know what that said about her, but ever since he’d appeared at the party outside, she’d felt more alive than she had in a long time.
“Let’s go get the key,” he said, taking the flashlight, heating her skin everywhere they touched. Oblivious to that fact, he led her back to the antiquities office.
Together, they hunkered down by the desk searching, and Chloe stared into his profile.
He hadn’t shaved today, and maybe not yesterday either, but the intriguing growth on his jaw made her fingers itch. He had laugh lines around his eyes and bracketing his mouth, a mouth she happened to know curved with slow, wicked intent, making his amusement contagious.
Also, he smelled…wonderful. Knee-weakeningly wonderful, which didn’t seem fair since she probably smelled of fear and stress-not wonderful at all.
His hair was still lush and unruly, and as thick as ever, and she couldn’t help it, she reached up and brushed a lock from his forehead.
Lifting his head, his gaze met hers, full of heat and a testosterone that oozed trouble. “Chloe.” His voice held warning and that sexy hunger as he looked into her eyes, his utterly unfathomable.
“What?” she whispered.
He just shook his head. “Nothing.”
But she knew it was something. She knew it with every bone in her body. “No key?”
“No. We’ll have to get one from my place.”
His place. That probably shouldn’t have given her a shiver of thrill. “Okay.”
They made their way out of the office and to the stairs, which they took in silence, close but not touching except for where they were linked by the cuffs. She had so many questions she didn’t know where to start, and she wished she knew him better, like she used to, so she could press him for answers.
“Where’s your car parked?” he asked.
And it hit her. They were going to go through the outdoor party to the lot, and all the way to his place-wherever that was-handcuffed. She knew this. She should have been upset by this. Furious.
Instead, a frisson of arousal went through her. “Back parking lot.”
They stepped out of the building into the courtyard, and it was as startling as if they’d walked onto another planet. In one blink they went from utter darkness, back into the festive lights, music and sounds of laughter and people conversing.