Page 41 of No Longer Mine

His entire body shifted, already eager to please. “I have a bottle of aged bourbon, slightly caramelized?—”

I bit my lip like I was considering. “Sounds promising.”

He nodded, clearly too eager now. “I’ll grab it.”

He turned, heading toward a glass display case near the kitchen.

And just like that?—

I moved.

Quick. Silent.

I peeked under every painting in the room and even wiggled a few of the statues and books in case he had some type of hidden compartments. I couldn’t afford to overlook anything. I didn’t have much time.

There had to be a safe in here somewhere. My eyes scanned everywhere, but Gavin seemed more predictable than that. Maybe his office or even his bedroom.

When he returned, I was sitting with my legs tucked beneath me on his leather sofa. He smiled at me as he handed me the drink. The bourbon warmed my entire body as it went down. It was better than good. I raised a brow, this time impressed. “Not bad.”

His boyish charm shined through as he grinned at me. “I knew it would be perfect. It’s sophisticated and rich. The deep taste does something to me. It kind of reminds me of you.”

He placed his glass on the coffee table and laced his fingers through mine.

I let him pull me closer, my body settling against his side as his arm draped over the back of the couch. I was supposed to be focused, supposed to be working—but the way he was looking at me made my skin crawl.

His eyes roamed my face, then my body, like he owned me. Like he thought this was leading somewhere.

It wasn’t.

I took another sip of bourbon, giving him a slow, lazy smile. “You compare all your drinks to women, or am I just special?”

He chuckled, his fingers grazing along my arm. “You’re different. Mysterious. There’s something about you, Scarlett.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. He was predictable.

His fingers trailed lower, skating over the bare skin of my thigh, inching up the slit of my dress. My stomach turned.

Nope. Absolutely not.

I shifted just enough to place my glass on the table, conveniently moving my body out of his reach in the process. “What do you do for work? Do you work for your family or…”

Or did you live off of the trust fund your daddy put together for you?

“I’m actually working on starting up my own finance firm.”

My brows jumped. That was the most interesting thing about him all night.

I tilted my head, letting just enough interest slip into my expression to keep him talking.

“Your own finance firm?” I mused, picking up my glass again. “That’s… surprising.”

Gavin smirked, taking my reaction as a compliment. “Why? Because I don’t seem like the working type?”

Because you seem like the type to let your father’s money do the heavy lifting.

Instead, I gave him a playful smile and took a slow sip of bourbon. “Something like that.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “I get it. Most of the guys in my circle are happy living off their trust funds forever. But I want something of my own.”