Read Online Wicked & Willing: Bad Girls by Leslie Kelly - Free Book Online Page A

late-afternoon sunlight dripped in, illuminating the fine grain of the wood on the desktop, which was almost the same color as his thick hair. She noticed the back of a decorative, silver picture frame just as Troy said, “There’s a photo of him on the desk.”
    She tightened her arms, almost hugging herself. “I don’t think so. Maybe later.”
    Venus was the one who was supposed to make the drinks, but instead Troy moved to a discreet corner bar and poured two shots of whiskey. After returning with them, he handed her one. “You can impress me with your bartending skills another time. You look like you could use this.”
    Though she hated confirming how wildly unstable her emotions were, she took the crystal glass gratefully. She tossed it back, feeling the warmth of the amber liquid ooze through her body almost instantly. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.
    “Good Scotch.”
    “Another?”
    She shook her head.
    When he took the empty glass from her hand, his fingers brushed against hers, sending more heat rushing through her body than the alcohol had. He seemed just as aware, standing close, holding the empty tumbler in his fingers and staring at her intently. Finally, he leaned over to place their glasses on a small, decorative table. His body was so close to hers, for a brief moment she could feel his breath on her cheek and his pant legs brushing her thigh.
    He straightened, but didn’t move away. “I would think if you were really curious you’d want to see what he looked like,” he said softly. “So do you really not care?” He narrowed his eyes. “Or is it that you’re afraid?”
    “I’m not afraid,” she insisted.
    But even as she said the words, she knew she was lying.
    She was afraid—though probably not for the reasonTroy thought. She couldn’t explain it to him, though. Hell, she could barely admit it to herself.
    He might think she feared looking at the picture and seeing a stranger with not one feature like hers. Feared not having any support for Leo’s claims. In actuality, Venus dreaded the thought of her own eyes staring back at her. She didn’t want to recognize the curve of the man’s smile, or think his chin resembled hers. She couldn’t bear it if the widow’s peak on her forehead had been inherited from him.
    This whole idea—a fat paycheck for an all-expenses paid vacation—had never seemed more dangerous than right now.
    No, she was nowhere near ready to look at that man’s picture. Not when seeing it might provide more evidence of the death of a parent she’d never met. She’d remain happily in the dark for as long as she could. Hopefully long enough to fully earn the five grand and hightail it back to Baltimore, with a nice, friendly wave to an elderly gentleman who was not her grandfather!
    Stepping within inches of her body, Troy made a quiet assessment of her face, looking searchingly into her eyes, which, she suspected, were overly bright right now. Finally, he tilted his head and said in an almost wondering tone, “You’re afraid you’ll see something you recognize, aren’t you? You really don’t want it to be true.”
    He didn’t say another word, letting his words hang there between them. He didn’t expect her to answer, obviously knowing what she’d say.
    “Why, Venus?” He shook his head, still appearing surprised by his own insight. “I don’t get this.”
    She had no doubt of that. Troy wanted to figure out why a woman from the wrong side of the tracks wasn’t rubbing her hands together in glee at her current situation. Most women would probably be thrilled to discover they could be an heiress. Most would at least be happy finally to know the truth about their parentage.
    But Venus wasn’t like most. Never had been. Never would be.
    “I don’t fit in here. I belong in this world about as much as a priest belongs in a synagogue,” she said with a dry chuckle, giving him only part of the explanation. She wondered why she bothered trying