Page 18 of Finn

“I bought a hotel. Two, actually,” he informed me.

“Oh. I had no idea you were interested in that sort of business.”

He smiled at me as he poured us some wine. We had met at a small restaurant, Finn not pleased that I wouldn’t allow him to pick me up. But I was trying to draw a line somewhere. It was hard to remember that, though, while he sat across from me, his dress shirt stretched tightly over his chest and arms and the sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms. He looked good. Better than good. The schoolgirl crush I’d had on him all those years was still there, only now, it was tinged with the awareness of adulthood. I understood the glances he stole when he thought I wasn’t looking. The frank approval in his eyes as he watched me. The flare of desire I caught on occasion when I would laugh or tap my bottom lip. He watched me intently, making me feel as if I was the only person in the room. He didn’t seem to notice other women staring at him.

I had to admit, I liked it.

“I don’t think you know much about me, Una.” He paused as he set down the bottle. “Yet.”

The one word was laden with promise. I had to clench my hands on my lap to stop the tremble that went through me.

“And these hotels?” I asked. “Where are they?”

“Both here. In Toronto. They are smaller boutique hotels that have been mismanaged. I’ve hired new staff and done a lot of renovations.” He took a drink of wine, studying me. “I’d like you to come work for me. Help me run them.”

I almost sputtered. “I’m still learning myself.”

He chuckled. “I’ve followed you, Una. Top of your class. The first hotel you went to, you rose up fast. Your old employer sang your praises. Hated that he lost you.”

I sighed. “I wish I hadn’t left.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to work for Embers. The hotel had such a good reputation. But my manager is horrible. So terrified someone will surpass or replace her that she micromanages everything. The first word out of her mouth ninety percent of the time is no. She resents the fact that Alison, the hotel owner, handpicked me and offered me a position just under her. I’m getting nowhere—except frustrated.”

“Then accept my offer.”

“How do I know it would be different?”

He crossed his ankle over his knee, meeting my eyes. “I guarantee it would be, Una. I expect you to work hard and take advantage of the opportunity. You will learn under a great mentor. Then when you’re ready, I’ll send you to the next hotel in a higher position. I want to give you the opportunities you deserve.”

“Why?” I asked, my voice suddenly breathless.

He sipped his wine, his gaze never leaving my face. “Because I saw the spark in you years ago. It’s still there, but it’s dimming. I want to bring it back to life.” He set down his glass. “And I want to be part of your life.”

“Finn,” I whispered.

“I want to ask you out again. Only this time, not to offer you a job.”

“I don’t want to be involved with someone who is…” I trailed off, unsure how to explain.

“Date me, not my choice of living,” he said.

“Are the two not connected?”

“Give me a chance.” He slid his hand along the table, taking mine. “You feel that, Una? That connection? It was there when you were eighteen. So strong that I had to stay away. But it’s still there, and we’re both adults now.”

My heart beat rapidly and my breathing picked up. I felt it too. He had woken something in me all those years ago. An awareness. A craving that had never been satisfied. The moment he took my hand, something in my chest eased. The second I walked away from him, the ache started. I was too young then to understand, but I understood it now. And I wanted him.

I had sensed him the entire time at my father’s funeral. Watching me. Staying close. Always looking. Every time I glanced around the room, I met his intense gaze. Knew when he was close. Felt sad when he left and took that intensity with him. It was as if my soul needed him. As if I needed him.

“I don’t know if I can.” I swore I would never date anyone in the syndicate. Never get close to one of the men.

“Do you hate me because of your father?”

“No,” I gasped. “My father made his decision long ago. I disliked it, but it was part of him. I just don’t know if I want it to be part of me. If I could live in a world where the person I cared about was in danger all the time. It destroyed my mother.”

“Give us a chance. My life is mostly nonviolent. I am careful. My men are careful. We want peace.”