Art of the Lie (14 page)

“Can you feel all your fingers and toes?”

Lindy gave him a grudging nod.

“Good. Do you have a pair of very strong scissors that aren’t too pointy at the ends? If not I have some at my place.”

“On my workbench. Why?”

He strode across to the bench, spotted the shears in fairly short order and returned, placing them on Lindy’s nightstand. “Because safety is important. Now I’m going to dial the phone for you, and while I clean up your wounds, you are going to cancel your date with the asshole in the suit and then spend the rest of the weekend in bed with me. And next weekend. Actually, just clear your calendar. For the foreseeable future.”

Lindy took a moment to process what Richard was saying, but decided she wasn’t quite ready to give in to the wild hope his words gave her. “He isn’t the one acting like an asshole in this situation, Richard,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him. He ignored it.

“Number, please? Or is this it?
MaddoxCorp
?” He had scrolled through the recent calls.

Lindy nodded. “So what’s to keep me from getting Paul to come rescue me, smart guy? Are you going to hold the shears to my throat or what?” If she’d had any remote fear of his doing so, or if she’d actually wanted rescuing, she wouldn’t have said it. But she was really curious to know what his plan was. She wasn’t expecting the smug smile, the absolute arrogant-jackass expression that prefaced his response.

Richard glanced down at her lap and casually flipped up her skirt, revealing her black lace thong. He nodded at her underwear choice in approval. “Very nice. You’ve been turned-on as hell since about the time I slapped your ass. Maybe even before that. Your panties are drenched. I could smell it.” He tugged the narrow strap of the thong to one side, tucking it down next to her leg to expose her pussy. She could feel herself getting wetter as he stared. “We definitely need to talk. And fuck. A lot.”

Without further ado, he pressed the dial button and held the phone to Lindy’s ear until she gave up and held it with her shoulder. Paul answered on the third ring, and for one moment Lindy considered yelling like hell, just to show Richard a thing or two. Then Richard reached his free hand down and slid a finger inside her, then a second one, holding her possessively and staring her down.

“Paul, this is Lindy. I’m so sorry, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel.”

Nodding, Richard left her to the conversation and went wandering off, returning shortly with antiseptic wipes and bandages.

“I’m fine,” Lindy was saying to Paul as Richard set to work on her knees. “Just soaking wet and chilled. And it’s a weeknight, so I think it’s probably better not to head out quite this late.”

“Well, I’m disappointed but I can’t say I blame you.” He didn’t sound very disappointed, and for a second Lindy almost felt hurt by that. “It’s really looking nasty out there. I’m just glad you made it home safely.”

“Thanks.” She felt a pang of regret. Paul really was so sweet. Richard, while he was many things, was not usually sweet. But it seemed he had only to crook his finger and she would come running. If he wanted this, wanted whatever he meant by fucking and talking a lot, she couldn’t help herself. She had to take a chance on it.

“Hey, by the way, thanks for getting me back in touch with Stella. We had a long talk the other day. It sounds like she’s doing really well.”

Lindy was surprised, because Stella hadn’t mentioned anything about it. She wondered if that meant Stella wasn’t sure what she herself thought about it yet, and she hoped that was a good thing in this case.

“You should go out for coffee,” she suggested. “Or dinner.”

“Oh.” Paul sounded slightly confused, but also a little hopeful. “I guess I could do that. But are you sure you’d be all right with that?”

“Absolutely,” she assured him.

Richard, just putting the final bandage on her knee, gave her a querying look. Unable to shrug her shoulders with the phone propped as it was, Lindy just rolled her eyes and returned to her conversation, trying to ignore the surreal quality of the scene. As Paul spoke again, Richard took Lindy’s wet shoes off and she flexed her restrained feet gratefully.

“If you’re sure.”

“You know, I really am.”

“So, are you trying to say you
do
want me to ask Stella out, and you don’t want me to ask
you
out anymore?”

Grimacing, Lindy tried to think of an easy answer. None came. “I
am
saying that, I think. Not that I haven’t enjoyed going out with you, because I really have. It’s just…complicated.”

A feral grin crossed Richard’s face, and he leaned over to nip at Lindy’s thigh. She gulped, trying not to yelp.

“It’s something to do with the guy from your exhibition, right? The one who lives in your building.” Paul was saying.

“Yes,” Lindy replied, surprised. Had it been that obvious? Then why hadn’t she noticed it before?

“I had a feeling there was something else going on there,” he said, and Lindy thought back over the incident, trying to see it through fresh eyes. Richard’s face, tight and guarded, the tension in his long limbs as he stood in the doorway just a little too long. The way he had slammed the crash bar when he opened the door, almost like he was angry.

Because he
had
been angry. And jealous. He wasn’t being protective. He was being possessive.

“There wasn’t anything going on yet at the time,” Lindy said, addressing the emotional factor if not the physical one. “That I knew of, anyway. We’ve been just friends for a long time.”

“I doubt he’d say the same,” Paul said, with more understanding than Lindy expected. “But I wish you all the best. And I admit I really did sort of want to ask Stella out. I always had a thing for her back in school. So we’re still okay on the business side of things, right?”

“Of course,” she said, feeling that if anything, she was the one who should have been worried about that part. Paul really was a nice guy, it seemed.

And then Richard worked his fingers inside her again, finally connecting with the most sensitive spot he could reach, and Lindy wasn’t too sure what she said to end the call. Just that at some point Richard took the receiver from her hand.

“Just because I canceled,” Lindy mustered the willpower to say, “doesn’t mean any of this is okay.”

“Is that so?” Richard lifted a shiny finger to her lips, pushing it into her mouth until she had to choose between biting him or sucking off the evidence of her body’s treachery. She glared at him, scraping her teeth over his knuckle in warning, only to get another look of fierce enjoyment.

“My being turned-on has nothing to do with whether or not your behavior is acceptable.”

“Are these panties replaceable? A simple yes or no will suffice.”

Lindy nodded, and a second later Richard had taken the shears to her thong, stripping the scrap of lace away to leave her completely naked below the waist. “But you harm this dress and you’re a dead man.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve always thought you looked really good in this dress. It’s washable, though, right? Just in case?”

She thought about it for a moment before admitting warily that, yes, it was washable.

“But Richard,” she cautioned before he could say or do more, “if this is just about how geographically convenient I am right now, I’m not interested. Really. I can’t do that. I don’t want to be your friend with benefits. That’s not me.”

“Lindy, how could you think that?”

She was annoyed that he had the nerve to sound affronted. “I could think that because the next morning, all you mentioned was the pancakes. And the bacon, but I think that was probably just a code word for more sex. I admit I had to leave pretty quickly, so I didn’t get to hear more. But then the second time you made such a point of saying it was only one more time, and reminding me that we were just friends. Are you seriously going to keep me tied down here for this conversation?”

“Yes I am. Okay, first of all, I would never use bacon as code for sex, because then I might not get the bacon. And second, you were the one who started the whole just-friends thing. I was trying to say what I thought you wanted to hear.”

“So you could use that to talk me back into bed.”

“For more of the best sex I’d ever had!”

“How many times have you had the ‘best sex you’ve ever had’? How many girls have heard that?”

“One,” he said, shaking his head, clearly hurt. “Just one. But it wasn’t even about the sex, Lindy. How can you not get that?”

She tried to steel herself against his wounded tone, remembering all the times she had watched him in school, brushing off the last girl and moving on to the next. “That’s what I was thinking, too, Richard. Right before I told myself what an idiot I was for thinking it.”

To his credit, he didn’t argue, just nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. Fair enough, I guess. I can see how you’d feel that way. Do you know what I was thinking? Not during the sex, obviously. Afterward. When I was falling asleep.” When she shook her head, he went on. “I was thinking about what to get you for Christmas.”

“It isn’t even Halloween,” she pointed out, puzzled.

“No, I know, but you don’t understand. I was thinking about what to get you for Christmas. Lindy, do you know how many women I’ve ever purchased Christmas presents for in my entire life?”

She shook her head again, baffled.

“Two.”

“Two?”

“Two,” he confirmed. “And one of them was Natasha, who really doesn’t count because she pretty much told me what to buy her the one Christmas we were together. Sent me an email with a link. Not just a picture as a hint or something, an actual link to the store’s shopping cart. Sucked all the fun out of it. I mean, making a list is one thing, but—”

“Who was the other one?” Lindy interrupted softly.

Richard smiled down at her, brushing a thumb over her lower lip. “My mom.”

Lindy considered that for a moment, trying to ignore the delicious teasing of Richard’s fingers against her lips, then her cheek, then trailing down her neck.

“I owe you an apology,” she said after a moment.

“For dating Mr. Red House? Accepted. I’ve moved on. Consider it forgotten.”

Lindy laughed. “No,
doofus
. For seducing you under false pretenses. I sort of lied by omission.” Her smile faded and she had to force herself to say the last part, the embarrassing confession. “I always liked you. In that way, I mean. I’ve had a crush on you since college. I wouldn’t have ever told you, but I didn’t ever see you as only a friend. I lied about that so you wouldn’t be worried about my getting all clingy and expecting something from you afterward.”

“You didn’t lie, exactly. You were willing to walk away afterward, and you did. What you did wasn’t so bad.”

“I’m glad you think so. I guess.”

“What
I
did was, though.”

“I just didn’t want to— What?”

Richard sighed, sitting back on his heels and lacing his fingers behind his head. He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds then squeezed his eyes closed. “When you asked me to have sex with you, I should have said no. Because of what you said about guys thinking they didn’t want to be the first in case you thought it was something it wasn’t. I didn’t realize at the time, but I think that was exactly what I
wanted
you to feel like. That it meant something.”

She was having a little trouble following him. “Richard, are you trying to say you agreed to have sex with me so I would think I was in love with you?”

He shrugged, still not opening his eyes. “Yeah. Maybe. Or at least I assumed that would happen, pretty much. I’m not trying to defend it.”

“I sort of wish you would. It might help me understand what the hell you were thinking.”

“I’m not sure I understand it myself.” He looked down at her finally, dropping his arms to his sides, looking miserable but hopelessly adorable. “I didn’t go into it meaning to manipulate you. But afterward I just couldn’t take the idea of anybody else doing that with you. I still can’t. I know you said it was just a hymen. But, you know—rose petals, Lind. It was like that.
Freakin
’ rose petals. I can’t help it.”

Lindy stared at him, flabbergasted. “Who the hell
are
you?”

Richard stared back, not smiling. “The guy who wants to beat the shit out of any other guy who tries to get near his woman’s rose petals.”

“Richard,” Lindy said, trying vainly to keep from laughing out loud at the sheer absurdity of the conversation. “I think you’ve pretty much taken care of the rose petal issue.”

He let his weight settle a little lower, brushing her pelvis with the seam of his jeans. “Not unless you felt like it meant something.”

Lindy arched her back, automatically trying to get closer. Something in his expression gave her the sudden insight that she held a great deal of power in the situation. Being tied down didn’t change that. “Tell me what you wanted it to mean.”

“Everything,” he said without missing a beat.

Lindy’s heart, however, missed at least one.

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?”

“You said you wanted me as a friend. You never said you’d had a crush on me since college. I guess I won’t ask why you didn’t tell me that.”

“Everybody else knew,” she pointed out.

“But how would
I
know? You never did the stuff other girls did. You never threw yourself at me. You never called me. You never flashed your boobs at me at a drunken frat party and asked me to do body shots off you.”

“Girls did that?”

He shrugged. “I never had to work very hard.”

“I guess not. Wow. Even if I had been one of those pretty girls, I wouldn’t have done that.”

“What are you talking about?” He shook his head, sighing. “Stupid self-esteem issues. You
were
one of those pretty girls. You still are. You’re one of those beautiful girls. You’re the girl who’s breaking my heart because you slept with me but it didn’t mean anything to you.” His smile took the weight from the words, and Lindy was able to smile back.

“It meant something,” she conceded. “I don’t know about
everything
. Maybe if you showed me again, now that I know what I’m supposed to be looking for?”