"What do you paint?"
"Whatever I'm feeling."
"Are you a good artist?"
"That's usually in the eye of the beholder."
He arched one dark eyebrow and looked over at me. "Then I'll have to judge your work for myself sometime."
Why was he talking like we were a couple or moving toward being that? We'd spent all of an hour together and now he was making plans to see my artwork. Yet he hadn't made any effort to even hold my hand or kiss me.
What was with this guy?
"Are we almost there?" I asked, uneasy about this entire thing.
"Almost."
As if my question had been a cue, he took the next exit and in minutes we were in the middle of pitch black nowhere. If I was worried before, now I was almost terrified. Scenes from every horror movie I'd ever seen flashed through my mind, all leading to the same ending. Me murdered and in pieces along an isolated country road and my sister devastated because I had forgotten the one thing she'd always told me not to do—get into cars with strangers. Ever since her house was broken into and ransacked, she'd been nearly paranoid about strangers, which I'd thought was a bit of an overreaction, but now I was thinking she had the right idea.
"Can I ask a question and have you answer with more than one word or one sentence that really says nothing?"
He stopped the car at a stop sign and turned to face me with a devastatingly sexy grin on his face. "Yes."
I couldn't help roll my eyes. He was either the most insufferable person I'd ever met or one of the funniest. I couldn't decide which. "Where are we going and can you promise me you're not going to do anything awful to me?"
"That's two questions, Nina."
The car began to roll again, and I let out a heavy sigh, hoping his dry humor was an indication that I wasn't going to be killed anytime soon. "Okay, can I ask you two questions and get straight answers?"
"Of course. You can ask whatever you want and I'll answer."
"I'd like straight answers."
His mouth hitched up at the corners into a sly smile. "As straight as you want."
"Where are we going?"
"To see a house I'm planning to buy."
"Really?"
He turned his head to look at me. "Do you want that to count as your second question?"
And after being scared shitless and almost killed, then confused and finally frustrated by his vague answers, I had to laugh. "No."
"Then what's your second question?"
"Are you going to do something awful to me out here in the middle of nowhere?"
Without a word, he stopped the car and put it into park. Then he leaned over, nearly touching my cheek with his lips, and pointed out my window. "That's the house, and I have no plans to do anything you wouldn't like or even love. What do you think of it?"
He was so close and smelled so delicious that I couldn't think clearly. I turned my head slightly and his lips brushed my skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to between my legs. Pressing my thighs together, I turned toward the window and pretended to look up at the house on the hill.
"It's nice."
"It's twelve million dollars."
Holy shit! In my mind, I counted the number of zeroes on a check for twelve million dollars. Then I imagined what I could buy for twelve million dollars. And even all that probably wouldn't fill the house I was looking at.
His breath drifted over my neck, and I leaned back slightly, wanting so much for him to kiss me or touch me with his hand. He did neither, though, even as he remained there so close.
In my ear, he whispered in a voice that hit me somewhere deep inside, "See? Nothing bad."
Just when I was sure he would do something, he sat back in his seat and began driving back toward the city. My mind and senses were reeling. Never before had I wanted to feel the touch of a man's lips on me so badly, but he never made a move. The experience left my emotions raw, and I feared saying anything more as I was sure I would embarrass myself, so I sat silently as he drove toward Sunset Park, speaking only when he asked me where I lived.
When he finally pulled the car up to in front of my building, my feelings were all a mishmash. I felt happy about the fact that he hadn't killed me, but it seemed that he never had any plans to do that or anything else, including anything sexual. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like he just wanted company. I guess I had been that, but my infatuation had secretly made me want so much more.