Betting on the Wrong Brother(6)By: Cathryn Fox
Nolan looked over his shoulder, his eyes glittering. “I doubt that’s a rumor.”
She rolled her eyes. “I meant moaning of a ghost.”
Nolan stiffened, the fine lines around his mouth deepening as he frowned. He tugged on the collar of his T-shirt. “Yeah? You think?”
“What?” She eyed him. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of ghosts.”
He raked his hair back, but it fell forward again. He darted a glance around the elevator, looking at everything and anything besides her. His discomfort was so tangible, she could almost feel it.
“I’m not,” he said, his words belying his actions. “My brother and I used to watch scary movies all the time. Why, are you?”
“No.” She nodded toward the buttons. “Keep pressing them.”
Nolan stabbed the mezzanine level with his thumb, and the lift started moving. He shot Andi a look and wiggled his fingers. “I guess I have the magic touch.”
“You’ve got something, all right,” she muttered as she turned her back to him to get dressed. It wasn’t that she needed privacy, or had any pride in need of preservation. No. That ship had sailed when she’d tried to seduce him twelve years ago. She just didn’t want to look at those big hands of his and remember how much she’d liked having them on her body.
“You never did tell me your name.”
What? Seriously? He still hadn’t figured out who she was? She chewed on that, letting the bitter taste settle on her tongue. She pulled on her skirt, buttoned her blouse, and faced him. Okay, let’s see where this goes.
“Andi Palmer.” Her lips puckered, as she watched him carefully. The blue in his eyes deepened, but it wasn’t from recognition. The guy had given her a complex and ruined her trust in men, and yet her name didn’t ring any bells for him. Jerk.
“Is Andi short for something?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know me, do you?”
His brows came together. “No, should I?”
“I guess not.” Why would he, really? She wasn’t that memorable.
He stepped close, too close. “Believe me, if I’d met you before now I would have remembered.”
Had the temperature in the elevator just jumped? Time to do something before she introduced her knee to his crotch for not remembering her, or plant her lips on his and kiss the hell out of him so he’d never forget again. She dropped to the floor and gathered up her papers.
“Here, let me help you.”
He crouched beside her. Her hand landed on her agenda, and an idea formed. An evil, wicked idea that would make him pay for dissing her back then, and not recognizing her now. Normally she wasn’t the vindictive type and avoided any sort of drama, but Nolan Wheeler deserved to go down, and she knew just how to take him there. Payback really was a bitch. She gathered up her papers and shoved them into her bag, zipped up her suitcase, and jumped to her feet. He followed her up, still looking mussed and rugged, liked he’d just crawled out of a warm bed.
Why oh why did she have to think of Nolan and bed at the same time?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“I’m…” he angled his head, like he wasn’t sure whether to be scared or delighted. He should go with scared. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s because I just realized who you were.” She tapped her fingers to her forehead. “That’s why I asked if you remembered me. You reminded me of someone, but now I’ve figured out how I know you.”
He grabbed the neck of his T-shirt again, that uncomfortable look returning. “You do?”
“Sure.” The doors opened on the mezzanine level. Perfect. She grabbed her suitcase, shouldered her bag, and reached for his hand. “Come with me.”