Sweet Temptation(7)

By: Maya Banks

“So where are you taking me?” she asked.

The question was asked innocently enough, but there was still enough reserve in her expression that he knew she was uneasy.

He worked to remove his scowl, but he finally gave up. She needed to know just how stupid she’d been for coming in here, and he wasn’t in the mood to soothe any feathers he may have ruffled.

He grabbed her hand, irritated with the way her slight fingers curled trustingly around his.

“Where I’m taking you is home. My place. You and I are going to have a long talk.”


Angelina glanced over at Micah as he roared into the parking lot of his apartment complex. Of course it wouldn’t have occurred to him to take her to where she was staying. He wanted to bawl her out on his turf.

She had to suppress a smile as he turned to her, his scowl still in place. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected stiff resistance. He was Micah after all, and it would take more than one night to make him see her as anything other than David’s little sister.

“Inside,” he directed as he opened his door.

Angelina reached for the handle and hopped out of his truck before he could come around to collect her. She met his gaze evenly, and his scowl deepened as he clasped her elbow and guided her toward the building.

At the door, he fumbled with the keys, shoved it open and herded her inside. He flipped the lights on, and she blinked as she glanced around.

The place looked so sterile and uninviting, as if no one really lived here. It reminded her of her own hotel room, where she lived out of a suitcase and never made herself at home.

It wasn’t the Micah she was used to. She’d spent a lot of happy hours at his, David’s and Hannah’s house. But then Hannah had made it that way.

Her mouth drooped, and she wiped at it in an attempt to remove the unhappiness that arose when she thought of David and Hannah.

Micah dropped his keys on the coffee table then spun her around to meet his gaze.

“Now suppose you tell me what the fuck is going on here, Angel.”

She smiled at his use of the nickname he’d given her. Butterflies danced in her stomach until she was left with a queasy sensation. How much to tell him? What was she supposed to say?

I’m running, Micah. To you. I need you. I love you. I’m scared. I love you. I want you to love me too.

None of it seemed like a good idea. She sounded desperate and not in control, and the last thing she wanted to do was face Micah with any disadvantage.

“Why are you so angry?” she asked in an effort to diffuse some of the explosive tension.

His jaw twitched suspiciously. “Okay, let me start with the basics here.” He dropped his hand from her elbow and began counting off on his fingers. “One, what the hell were you doing in The House? Two, why didn’t you immediately divulge your identity when I walked up? Three, what are you doing in Houston? Four, why didn’t you tell me you were in town? Five, the coincidence of you showing up at the same club I frequent is staggering. I don’t believe for a moment you didn’t know you’d see me which brings me back to number one.”

“Wow. Just wow, Micah.”

She trembled with anger. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as hurt and an old sense of betrayal washed through her all over again.

No longer able to keep eye contact with him, she turned sharply, her chest heaving. It was more difficult than she’d thought. She wanted to lash out at him, ask him why he’d left her.

He turned her around again, cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “This can’t come as a surprise to you, Angel. How did you think I’d react? Don’t look at me with those hurt eyes and play the victim here.”

She tried to step away, but he held her firm.

“Tell me something, Micah. If the mask had stayed on, would you have taken me home and had sex with me?” she taunted. “You wanted me. You can’t deny it.”

His eyes blazed with a mixture of heat and anger, as though he remembered all too well his reaction.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Micah scowled and then shot her a warning stare. “Don’t move.”

She shrugged and watched him walk away. A sigh escaped, and her shoulders slumped downward. Damn it, none of this had gone the way she’d planned. She hadn’t intended him to find out her identity the way he had. Maybe the entire idea had been stupid, but she’d wanted to make him see the woman she was before she revealed her identity.

A moment later, he returned, her keys jingling in his hand. He slapped them down on the coffee table next to his.

“Damon had your car brought here.”

She nodded.

He stared at her for a long moment, and then he closed the distance between them, this time turning her away from him. His fingers trailed over her back and pulled at her shirt.

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