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I probably should have let her off the hook about the lunches, but I wanted to stay as close to Dasha’s daughter as I could, and being with Raychel reminded me, in a sad sort of way, what it was like to have someone you loved in your life. She was as close to family as I had. And I enjoyed the lunches, once I pulled her out of her shell. Raychel was smart, and when she was comfortable, had a biting wit that I enjoyed. She had a look of purity but not blatantly so. She got her lovely, naturally curly hair directly from her father. If she was talking about something she was interested in—like her art—her face lit up from within.

Lately, I’d started to worry about her, though. Raychel wasn’t looking well, and she was thin as a rail. She certainly did get more than her share of her father’s stubbornness, though, and adamantly refused to let me take her to lunch, or to go to dinner with me. She was such a shy little thing, and I was so determined not to scare her off and lose any sense of normal that I had left, that I hesitated for a long time to put my foot down. But this afternoon, I just decided that I wasn’t going to let her have her way.

I had been surprised and pleased when she’d acquiesced without too much of a fuss. If I’d known it was going to be that easy, I would have done it months ago… hell, years ago. In fact, I wished I hadn’t held her to meeting a month from then, but maybe the time would help her get her head around it. She’d also gotten a heaping helping of Dasha’s pride. She wouldn’t even let me pick up her lunch even though my paying for her food was a drop in the bucket compared to what I made in a day. She’d practically gotten into a physical fight with me the first time we went out because of it.

Apparently, my look of warning didn’t work on her. It sure as hell scared all the people who worked for me, but not Raychel. She hadn’t so much as batted an eyelash at me.

There was something about Raychel… something unsettling. She made me want to shake her out of her calm, quiet demeanor. It was like she had something to say, but lacked the courage to do so.

She made me want to kiss her out of it, too, and that impulse sent me reeling out of my chair, my back to the picture of Dasha and his daughter, as if I couldn’t bear for the images within the frame to see my shame. I hadn’t had the impulse to kiss someone for so long, it physically hurt me to consider it. To say nothing of how guilty it made me feel. Not only was I contemplating kissing someone much younger than me, but I was contemplating kissing Dasha’s daughter. His fucking daughter!

Forbidden.

Wrong.

So fucked up.

Once the idea formed in my mind, however, I found that I couldn’t let it go. It haunted me, sneaking into my consciousness when I least expected it over the next few weeks—visions of taking that staunch, starched little body and tugging it against mine, letting my hands sweep up into all that hair, bending her head back for my deep, passionate kiss, letting my lips slide slowly over hers—

I shook my head.

Fuck me. I had done a lot of bad things in my life. But these thoughts… nothing I have ever done was as bad as this. She was still a damn kid. Legal age or not, this girl was no match for me. Angelic. Perfection. She had no business being pursued by the damn devil.

“Mr. LaSalla? Are you all right?” Nico Romero, the house manager of Black Secrets, was peering at me as if he thought I’d gone off my rocker because he clearly had been trying to get my attention for a while. He wouldn’t have entered my office otherwise.

I cleared my throat and nodded, more bothered than I wanted to be about how Miss Raychel kept popping into my daydreams. It was disquieting in the extreme.

“I have some interviews lined up for you for the new cigar girl position. Do you want to do them or have your assistant?” he asked. Business as usual.

“I’ll do them.”

“You sure you’re all right?” Nico asked. “If you don’t mind me for saying so, you look like you could use a good cock sucking. You seem wound up tighter than a tittie twister.”

I smirked. “Fine. Just tired, I suppose.”

“Tonight’s theme for the party is Make Me Cry, Daddy. Maybe you should make some pretty lady cry.” Nico laughed. “The girls working the event are all excited about it. The sign-up list to work the party is full and the guest list even fuller.”

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