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He retreated into the building, leaving his cigarette perched on an ashtray just outside the door. There was no judgment or question in his voice about why I’d be here so late, just matter-of-fact that I would be.
That was appreciated. I wasn’t in the mood for endless questions. I’d had enough of those in the past few hours. Dad had been MIA since our conversation, and the thought of my still-living sister had plagued me since that moment.
The gates creaked open, swinging inward.
“Thanks, Dustin,” I called, opening my car door again.
“Anytime, Mr. Fox.” He stepped back out of the building and raised a hand to me, bending down for his cigarette.
I started my engine and drove through the gates. The driveway was long and badly lit, but my headlights guided me safely down to the house.
Lights blared out from the windows downstairs. Curtains twitched as I got out of the car and locked it. The beep echoed through the night, seeming too loud. It’d wake the dead if there were any around here.
I raised my hand to knock on the door, but it swung open before my fist could connect with the wood.
“I have to admit to being surprised,” Dahlia said, standing there in nothing but a long tank top with a low neckline. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up at midnight.”
I glanced at my watch. “Technically speaking, I’m late. And if you didn’t think I’d show up, why are you awake.”
She waved a book at me.
Stepping inside, I glanced at her shirt. It read ‘Boys in books are better.’ I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for a graphic tee kind of person.”
She looked down at it. “I’m sorry—should I be wearing lingerie just as expensive as my car?”
“Would you like to be?”
“Are you here for a day off or to annoy me?”
“You seem to be confusing those things for being different.”
She groaned, shutting the door. “Whose idea was this?”
Grinning, I reached for her and pulled her close. I had to laugh when she held her arm out so her book didn’t get crushed between our bodies. “Yours,” I said, still chuckling. “But, don’t worry. Your book is safe.”
“Oh, well, thank goodness. This is turning out well already.” She rolled her eyes and extracted herself from my arms. “Hold this so I can set the alarm.”
She shoved the book at me before I could answer. Somehow, I managed to keep the page she was on, and I flipped it so I could take a look at the cover. There was a man in a suit in a very—ahem—compromising picture with a woman in not a lot of clothing at all. He was grasping her ass and she had her head thrown back in pleasure.
Dahlia cleared her throat. I peered up at her standing in front of me, hand outstretched for the book, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“What is this?” I asked, showing her the cover.
“A book,” she answered smartly.
“It looks like a guide to porn.”
“I’d be hard-pressed to disagree with you. Can I have my book back now, please?”
I looked at the book and then her.
“Fine, then put it back on the shelf. Insufferable man.” The last two words were said entirely to herself, muttered under her breath as she spun on the balls of her feet and headed down the hall.
I followed her. Why was she so bothered about me examining her book? It was just a damn story. I turned my attention back down to the book in my hand. The Virgin Billionaire.
Huh?
“The Virgin Billionaire,” I read slowly, a few feet behind her. “Interesting.”
“My God,” she breathed, clapping her hands to her face. “Why did I bring the book? Of all the things, I brought the book.”
“I’m quite interested in this. Who’s the virgin billionaire?”
“Damien.”
“Why are they a virgin if they’re a billionaire? Do they know you can pay people to help you with that?”
She whispered something to herself, turning and walking into a dimly-lit room. The walls were lined with bookshelves. Books were stacked in order in places, haphazardly in others. I couldn’t see any of the titles, but I had a good feeling some of them matched the book I was currently holding.
“The Virgin Billionaire,” I said again, rolling the words around my mouth.
“Oh my God.” Dahlia threw herself down on the sofa and covered her face with her hands. “This is the most embarrassing day of my life.”
I grinned and sat next to her. “Are you reading a dirty bit?” I opened the book and looked down at the pages.
She was reading a dirty bit.
“Well,” I said, clearing my throat. “Is this boy in this book better?”
“All right, that’s enough. I like dirty books. I’m not ashamed of that!” She rolled to face me and made a grab for the book.
I held my arm out so the book was out of her reach and read, “He pulled her close with a tug on her arm. Her knees buckled, sending her flying down on top of him.”
