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“Parker, I don’t think he was kidding. I think if you try to mess with a man like that you’re going to wind up getting yourself hurt or worse.”
“He’s a goddamn hotel owner, not the mob.”
“He’s fucking powerful, that’s what he is, Parker. He has more money than Midas. You should have seen his place.”
“So what?”
“So, I just think you should watch out. What’s so special about this girl anyway?”
What wasn’t special about Scout? “Don’t worry about it. Did he say anything else? I need to know everything that transpired from the moment you walked through the door.”
She considered her answer, and that pissed him off. He paid her to do a job. She was working for him.
She swallowed. “I don’t think I want anything to do with this anymore, Parker.”
He wasn’t expecting that, but that was fine. He’d hired Sherry to serve a purpose. He’d hoped he could get Patras to fuck her. She looked so much like Scout, just a little harder and less pretty, but she had the same dark hair and the same bone structure. She also had more sexual knowledge than a tantric how-to book.
He’d found her while using one of the computers at work. Her agency was simple enough to reach. Once he’d slept with her the first time, he arranged a private deal with her. She helped him figure out how to properly touch a lady. It was a lesson he needed to learn.
Parker was no white dove, but he surely couldn’t treat a woman like Scout the way he treated the women of his past. Growing up on the streets, sex was about one thing, release. It was a free pastime he’d indulged in often, but he never made love.
He’d never slept with a woman completely unclothed. Sex was always about getting off and getting done without catching frostbite or something worse.
Sherry showed him how to use a gentle hand. She’d taught him how to hold a woman. Some nights he paid her to simply lie with him. He’d stroke her arms and curves and she’d tell him what she found especially appealing and comforting. When it came time to be intimate with Scout, he wanted to offer her all the tenderness a girl like her could possibly need.
Scout was an extremely independent woman. She’d need to maintain a certain level of control. He wanted to be the perfect lover for her. When they finally made love it would be tender, and giving, and everything it should be.
“Parker, are you listening to me?”
He turned to Sherry, her brown eyes rife with concern. “Sorry, no. What did you say?”
She grasped his hands tightly. He should probably start pulling back from her, limiting the ways he let her touch him. Now that he had Scout’s whereabouts he wouldn’t need her anymore.
“I said why can’t you just forget about this girl? She’s got this whole other mess going with that guy. You’re handsome and well off. Why don’t you find someone a little less complicated?”
He gently pried his hands from hers and touched her cheek. “You don’t understand, Sherry. She’s in a bad way with this guy. I have to help her.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be helped?”
“She can’t go back to him. A man like that would destroy her. I need to save her.”
She scowled at him. “Why do all men think that women need saving when the most dangerous thing to us is men in general? You’re all capable of ruining us. Who’s to say you’re any better for her than this guy?”
He frowned. “I am. I’m to say. Lucian Patras is a greedy, manipulative, self-serving prick. He collects pretty things he covets so no one else can have them, and then when he loses interest in them he throws them away or puts them on a shelf until they lose their value.”
“And this girl . . . this Evelyn, you want her for more than just satisfying some need to possess her so other men can’t.”
He grit his teeth. “Her name is Scout, and yes. I want to love her.”
Sherry paled. “The lease said Evelyn. What if she doesn’t love you?”
“I can make her love me.”
Her gaze dropped to her knees. Softly she said, “Really, Parker, I thought you were a smart man.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
When she met his gaze there were tears in her brown eyes. “It means that you can’t make someone love you any more than you can choose who you love, especially when their heart is elsewhere. I should know.”
When a tear tumbled down her freckled cheek, regret washed over him. “Honey, you know how I feel. I’ve never kept it a secret from you.”
“I know. I just . . . it’s been three months.”
“And for three months I’ve never changed my course or my plans,” he reminded her gently.
