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He makes it sound so fucking tempting. I chew on my lower lip, mulling it over.No amount of money is ever worth your pride, Dad used to say. But Dad, thankfully, had never seen just how far Danny had fallen. Money seemed to be the only carrot tempting enough to throw far in the opposite direction to get him to leave me alone. For a little while, at least.
It’s sad. It’s pathetic. But there it is.
“Fine.” I finish signing my first name. Then the last. It physically hurts when I finally set the pen aside. Like I’ve ripped away some innermost part of myself and slapped it right onto Graeme Bellamy’s palm. Smiling, he gleefully takes that piece of me. He crushes it.
“Good. We can continue this discussion in my suite. On the way, I’ll have William cancel your hotel search.”
“What? Why?”
The look he shoots me from over his shoulder makes the air hitch in my chest. I’m choking even before he declares, “Because you’ll be staying in my penthouse. With me.”
CHAPTER24
evie
Ihave to catch myself on a nearby table, ruffling the neat pile of napkins arranged on top of it. “Like hell I—”
“You will be kept onretainer, Ms. King,” Bellamy says, still marching for the exit and leaving me no choice but to scramble to keep up. “That means that I may have use for your skill atanyhour. We’ve already established that you are unreliable with other forms of communication…” Apparently, he’s referring to all those missed emails and text messages.
I shake my head. “No—”
“Yes.”
I blink. Try again. “No.”
“Yes. That particular detail is non-negotiable.” The way he says it… The words don’t sound sleazy, dripping with innuendo, but crisp. Cold.
He’s hiding something. Even more alarming—the look in his eye warns me not to ask what.
So, I follow him. Past a stern-faced William, taking up his post near the entrance, and into an elevator. It’s a tense, silent ride up to the top floor. When we finally enter the penthouse, I’m shaking. My lungs are desperate to find more air, and I think I even wheeze.
And it’s all his damn fault. But what does Graeme Bellamy have to show for setting my world into turmoil for the umpteenth time this week? The bastard glances down at my hands and frowns.
“Where is your satchel?”
I blink and stagger a step away from him, keeping my body nearest to the exit. “At the reception desk,” I admit. I’d convinced myself that it was better than leaving so much as a damn hair inside his actual suite while I went out. Now I’m not too sure. I should have gone back to my storage unit. I should have packed up whatever I could fit onto a plane and taken the next flight far from New York.
Anything to avoid being alone with this man once again.
“I’ll have it sent up,” he says as if it’s a piece of wayward mail he’s referring to, and not my personal belongings.
“I’m not staying here.” I feel the need to punctuate the statement by slamming my foot against the floor, hard enough to make it sink in. Mainly into my own brain. No more Graeme Bellamy. No more indescribable, priceless bed. No more sex. With him, at least.
“That’s rather discouraging, Evelyn,” he states while turning to face me. “Quitting a job only after minutes of being rehired.”
“This—” I gesture toward the massive suite. “Wasn’t a part of the deal.”
“Oh, wasn’t it?” The smile he flashes for my benefit is nothing but sinful. “Look again, Evelyn. Always read the fine print.”
I inhale. Exhale. Still can’t seem to breathe. “You. Are. An—”
“Ass?” he supplies, his eyes narrowing. “I do believe we’ve already established that fact more than once.”
We’re at an impasse. A lethal, jagged one, and I’m not sure who has the upper hand. Me? Him?
It feels like an eternity before either one of us makes the first move—he steps toward me. Again. Faster. Herding me into the corner by the door. Blocking me in with his sheer size until I’m forced to stand on tiptoe, my neck craned to face him.
“On second thought, perhaps you are right, Evelyn,” he says. “After all, are your skills even worth keeping on retainer?” He shrugs.
