Beneath These Scars

And what the hell did I just do? I’d grabbed the man’s dick.

Granted, he’d forced me to. Well, he hadn’t exactly taken my hand and wrapped it around the biggest cock I’d ever encountered—based on the sheer feel of it—but he’d taunted me. Challenged me.

I wasn’t the kind of woman who would back down from a challenge anymore. And certainly not from a rich asshole like Titan. No, men like him understood one thing and one thing only—power and sheer defiance of it.

I still couldn’t believe I hadn’t put it together. How could Titan be Levi’s brother? They didn’t share a last name—because as Titan had said, Levi didn’t have one. I’d thought he was crazy when he’d handed me his ID for his employment paperwork, but I didn’t ask questions because . . . well, this was New Orleans, and he wouldn’t be my first employee to be in a unique situation. Now that I was looking for it, I could see the resemblance between them. Even though Levi didn’t have the height or the solid build quite yet, he had the same black hair, albeit shaggy, and green eyes.

I tried to wrap my mind around this entire thing while I squeezed the water out of my hair. I really needed a shower first, but I wasn’t about to risk taking that kind of time. The master of the house might notice and find me naked and wet. Again.

Good Lord. That man . . .

I should have wanted to claw his hand off when he touched me, but . . . I hadn’t. Clearly, I was traumatized from earlier or something, because my reaction defied explanation. When his dark green eyes had speared me, I’d almost arched into his touch like a cat in heat.

It was a mistake. A crazy reaction. I didn’t want him.

He was rich. Arrogant. Entitled. Most likely to try to crush me into a pliable shadow of myself. Screw that. But in a corner of my mind, I knew the truth. I wanted to screw him.

No, Yve. You know better.

Self-loathing was a horrible thing, so I shoved the thoughts aside. I didn’t want him. Wouldn’t want him. I hated him and everything he stood for. I’d stare him down again, and this time, I would do it with my pride intact.

I spotted several fluffy white hotel robes hanging from hooks on the wall, which would have been really nice to notice before. Damn it. I grabbed one and slipped it on before sliding into my flip-flops and heading for the door. I was leaving what had happened a few minutes ago in that room and I would never think about it again. I’d also strike the dick-grabbing move from my list of knee-jerk reactions to being challenged.

As I reached for the door handle, I looked down at the palm of my hand like it was going to explain to me why it jumped out and grabbed Lucas Titan’s junk.

Shake. It. Off. Yve. Squaring my shoulders, I headed in the direction of the library. At least I knew where it was. I’d drooled over it almost immediately upon entering the house. It was something out of Beauty and the Beast, and now that I knew who owned the house, that comparison seemed a lot more fitting.

I paused near the stairs. Meeting Lucas Titan in a bathrobe was not a good idea. I hated that I’d be at a disadvantage. This kind of conversation would be easier to have in my sassiest red dress and tallest fuck-me heels—an outfit that packed a double shot of confidence to face down his arrogant self.

Not like when I ran from him at the corner instead of letting him see me to my house.

But even after I’d done that, he’d still arranged for my car to be repaired.

Titan was a damn puzzle. And I didn’t have time to solve the path through his twisty brain these days.

Instead, I squared my shoulders and followed a hallway in the direction I assumed was east. Soon I passed the library and another set of glass doors that led into what would definitely be another of my favorite rooms of the house. With all glass walls and a vaulted glass roof, it held a couple of comfortable-looking sofas and a long, narrow table with several fancy bottles filled with amber liquid. As I approached, Titan stood pouring what I assumed was some kind of expensive booze into two glasses.

“You drink Scotch?” he asked without looking up.

“Apparently I do now,” I replied.

That answer got his attention.

His sharp gaze landed on my face before dropping to my feet and climbing up my body. Once again, I felt him everywhere his stare touched. Beneath the robe, my nipples tightened against my will and better judgment.

“Yes, you do.”

“So says the king.” I laughed, but I didn’t move closer to him. My flip-flops seemed rooted to the slate floor.

“Indeed.” He held the glass out, studying my face intently. “You look like you’re about to make a run for it.”

“I didn’t expect to find you here. I never would’ve come.”

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth and slowly curled into a smug smile. “I can’t say the surprise was unwelcome. In fact, coming home to see a naked woman swimming laps in my pool is something I could easily get used to.”

“Nice,” I said with a snort. It wasn’t an attractive sound, but I wasn’t worried about impressing this man. “And why don’t I believe this is the first time you’ve walked in on someone naked in your pool? You’ve got money. You aren’t exactly ugly. Women should be dropping their panties at your feet.”

His eyebrow lifted, the arrogant prick. “Who says they aren’t?”

“Well, Vanessa Frost sure didn’t.” I lifted an eyebrow back at him, now glad that I’d paid attention when Elle had filled me in on all of the dirty details from Titan’s pursuit of Vanessa.