Silas Page 29

  “A reporter.” He touched my face. His gloved finger traced the outline of my jaw.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to write about Barclay?”

  “As soon as I get proof, I will.”

  He shook his head. “That’s very dangerous.”

  I focused on his lips again, the way they pronounced his words. His voice was as dark as the summer night, and he was so close now. And his lips…

  He grasped me behind my neck, holding me in place.

  His lips came for mine.

  I opened my mouth to him.

  His tongue invaded my mouth—sweet warmth and sensation filling me. His strong arms wrapped around me, pinning me to his body, crushing me against him.

  A whirlwind whipped up inside me, sweeping through my limbs and my head, robbing me of thoughts, swirling pleasure through me. His kiss was intense.

  My heart hammered away, pulsing thrills over me, into me, around me.

  Slowly, he stopped moving. His grip on me loosened.

  He pulled away, clearing his throat.

  I felt dizzy and disoriented.

  And embarrassed.

  What had possessed me? Was it nerves? Were more than my thoughts beginning to scatter? Were my actions becoming erratic as well?

  I looked up at him.

  His gaze darted away. He reached for the helmet that I’d set down and offered it to me.

  I didn’t take it. I only looked at it. What had just happened?

  “Let me give you a ride home,” he said.

  “I can get there myself.” My voice was at least three octaves too high.

  “It isn’t safe.”

  “I’ll call a cab.” I jumped off the bike. “I’m sorry that I…” Kissed you? Let you kiss me? Enjoyed being kissed? “I don’t know what came over me.”

  He set the helmet down. He hesitated. “All right. Call a cab then.”

  I pulled out my phone.

  He watched while I dialed. While I spoke with the cab company. While I gave my address.

  His blue eyes were cold and emotionless, and he gave me a wide berth, never allowing us to get close again.

  I wanted to die inside. What had just happened? This wasn’t like me. I didn’t go around letting strange masked men kiss me in the middle of the night. I was very careful about the kind of men I let into my life. I’d seen too much of the dark underbelly of male and female interaction not to be cautious.

  But here I was, throwing all caution to the wind.

  He still looked so good to me. And the way he’d kissed me… He’d been eager, even thorough. I remembered the iron weight of his arms as they held me in place.

  “You need to stay away from this part of the city,” he told me. “You’re no match for Hayden Barclay.”

  “You can’t stop me. I want Hayden brought to justice, and I’ll do whatever I can to make sure that happens.”

  “I think I could stop you if I needed to.” He folded his arms over his chest.

  Little thrills went through me. Something about the way he’d said that made me wish I could kiss him again.

  Stop it, I told myself. So, he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. But he’s dressed up in spandex and a mask. He’s crazy. He’s bad news.

  The cab pulled up across the street. The cabbie got out. “Cecily Kane?”

  I waved. “That’s me.” I turned to the masked man. “I have to stop Hayden. It’s a personal thing for me.”

  “You think it isn’t personal for me?”

  I hadn’t given it a lot of thought, really. Everything about this masked man was making it hard for me to think properly.

  “Don’t come back to that part of the city,” he said in a voice like cold steel. He waited until I was across the street and safe inside the cab with the door shut after me.

  Then he swung onto his unique motorcycle and revved the engine.

  On impulse, I rolled down the window in the cab. I got out my phone, and I began snapping pictures of him as he drove away.

  Even captured in a photograph, he looked larger than life, too virile and enormous to be real.

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