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“Not everyone is like me,” I snap, before I realize how self-disparaging that sounds. “I mean… you don’t exactly woo.”
“Woo.” He strokes his chin with his thumb, and I hate the prickle of heat that shoots down my spine at the sight. “And how exactly would a man go about wooing a woman like you?”
Like me?I deliberately ignore the mocking edge in his tone. “Well, not be an ass, for one.”
He frowns. “Oh?”
“And be suave. Sweet talk. Your idea of being charming seems to be throwing a check in someone’s face—”
“And do you have an example of this so-called, charming, suave Casanova in mind?”
Uh-oh. I can taste the danger in his tone, hidden beneath the rosemary. But what the hell—I crane my neck back to meet his gaze fully and blurt out the answer. “Well, someone like… Adrian Riley.”
His eyebrow quirks a fraction of an inch higher—the only hint of emotion revealed on his face. “And why is that?”
“Well, he’s handsome,” I admit. “He seems well educated. Interesting. Charismatic—”
“Oh?” Suddenly, he’s closer, his body, whether intentionally or not, positioned slightly over mine. “In what way?”
“He wouldn’t make it feel like a game.” Why in the hell do those words come out so… serious? Thisisa game. A series of mistakes. There is no way in hell that something real could ever come out of this twisted “thing” between us now. I know it. He knows it.
So why is he frowning? And why the hell did something in my belly lurch once I said it out loud?
Desperate to salvage the moment, I clear my throat and say, “I should go…”
Just like that, he steps away and circles the counter, reaching for his mug of coffee. My fingers shake as I set the brochures down and rise to my feet. I start for the foyer again, only for his voice to reach me the moment I stoop for my suitcase.
“Stay,” he tells me. The gruff baritone isn’t the typical octave, but it’s not that ominous growl, either. “I’ll have William find you another hotel, and I’ll deduct it from your severance amount.”
“You don’t have to do that—”
“Funny. I don’t remember asking.” He strolls through the doorway a second later, a piece of toast in hand. Aware of me watching, he takes a deliberate bite before walking past me for the door. “On second thought,” he adds as he palms the door handle. “I wouldn’t want you to feel that I’m being too arrogant in assisting your search, so do what you will. Enjoy your morning, Ms. King.”
Just like that, the bastard leaves, and the scent of fresh herbs lingers on the air along with a feeling of… could it be guilt? Whatever it is, settles in my stomach no matter how hard I try to ignore it.
CHAPTER22
graeme
Riley himself is there to greet me in the lobby of the club. Dressed in a plain black suit, it seems as if he’s dropped the pretentious act for once. His expression is nothing but the cold, stripped mask of a businessman.
“Bellamy.” I take the hand he offers and shake it once. “I say we’ve passed the time for preliminary games,” he says once the nicety is out of the way. “Let us jump directly into business.”
It’s about bloody time. I say nothing as he leads me to the elevator and up to his office. There, with the door closed, I finally lay out my terms.
“My solution is this—you can havesomeinput in the London club,” I start, standing while he circles around to the opposite end of his desk. “But I will require an equal say in yours.And,” I add, before an arrogant smirk can even begin to shape his mouth. “We maintain full leadership over our respective entities. No crossover.”
“Always the cautious poker player, Bellamy,” Riley says with a cold laugh. “You never had any of Alexander’s, shall we say, flair for the dramatic. I take it you aren’t a gambling man—”
“Not when it comes to business.” A fact that I have no damn shame in.
Riley shrugs. “I will say that I’m disappointed. I expected you to march in here with a list of demands before you’d ever consider making a deal.”
“Oh, that might be because I haven’t begun yet.” I brace one hand against a leather chair positioned before his desk and meet his gaze directly. “I know the signs of your meddling. Your methods leave a certain… stench. If you want my club, you come afterme. Only me. Leave anyone else out of it.”
The bastard smirks. “Interesting. Did you have anyone in particular in mind?”
“My mother, for one. My brother. My sister. Keep them out of any schemes you may have in mind. It’s not a request.”
