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“Smells good.” She gives me a small grin as she walks back out from the bedroom, and I almost stumble. She is in jeans and a soft white knit sweater, bare feet, her pink hair brushed out and long around her shoulders, flowing down her back. This woman could wear a cardboard box and look sexy as hell, but right now, with her hair down, just in denim, she is fucking beautiful.
“Take a seat, I’ll bring them over,” I say, my voice a little hoarse as I try to shake off my immediate reaction. I grab the two hot cups and make my way over to the sofa where she sits.
“Baltimore is usually a pretty safe city. But the building has a town car. I will have Brian book it for you every morning and every night to get you to and from work.” The idea came to me earlier. I will give her Tony and my car. At least that way I know she will be safe. Although now that I am thinking about it, it is something we could offer to the building as an added value. I will bring it to the table with my brothers at our next operations meeting. A building of this caliber certainly needs to continue to up its game and a town car and driver to take tenants wherever they need to go sounds like a good idea. It could give us a competitive advantage. However, giving her my car and driver is something I will implement immediately. Clearing my throat, I roll my shoulders. The number of lies I am now telling her is growing by the day.
“Won’t the other tenants need it too?” she asks as I pass her the cup and watch her take a sip of the hot chocolate, listening to her sweet murmurs of approval.
“No. There aren't many here in this building who need a driver. They mostly have their own cars parked downstairs. The parking garage is always full.” She puts her cup down and tangles her hands together, still shaking slightly.
My instincts kick in almost automatically as my hand shoots out and covers both of hers. Her eyes flick to me before she turns her hand and cups mine, entwining our fingers. She takes another deep breath, and her shoulders lower as she relaxes some more. She talks a tough talk, strong and independent, but right now, she is like a small scared little bird. I don't like how this dulls her shine.
“How’s your shoulder?” she asks me, and if changing the conversation helps her, then I am all for it.
“Healing fine. See,” I say, pulling open my shirt a little, and I see her eyes flick to the thin dark-pink line that is almost all healed.
“Have you always fainted at the sight of blood?” she asks, her nose scrunching, making her look so fucking cute.
“Always. I remember when I was a kid and my brother pushed me off my bike. I landed on my knee, saw the blood, wailed for my oldest brother, then fainted right there in the driveway,” I say, taking a sip, smiling to myself at the memory.
“So you have two brothers?” she asks.
I swallow. I should just tell her who I am, but now is not the time. It would be good to see if she actually likes me for just being me, and not the name and money that comes with me. But I am also a little worried about what she will think.
But I need to tell her who I am because I want to kiss her. I want to feel her under my hands, want to wrap my arms around her and tuck her in tight. But tonight is not the night. Whatever happened scared her, and she needs time.
“Three. All older,” I say, telling her the truth about everything, except for exactly who I am. “My father died a few years ago. My mother is still around, though. As you know,” I add, opening up a little more. “My dad would have liked you.” A small smile dances on my lips as I think about my father. A serious businessman who was always busy, but when he spent time with me, he was present and one hundred percent focused on me.
“Why’s that?” she asks, looking at me inquisitively.
“I can just tell that you both have the same type of personality,” I say, swallowing. When I went backpacking, my father was very supportive. I spent a lot of time volunteering in the local villages over there. I know my brothers think all I did was sit on the beach, bed women, and drink cocktails, but that was far from reality. Only my dad knew what I did. I would call him every week without fail. And every week after our conversation, the charity I was volunteering at would get a big donation. He never said anything and neither did I, but between my dad and me, that year we built a new school, supplied an entire library with books and supplies, and funded a maternal health support service for a small Cambodian community that I personally still fund to this day. Reliving the memories is good for my soul. My life now is too polished for anything that fun anymore. Remembering where I am, I clear my throat. “What about you? Siblings?”
“No. No blood siblings,” she says on a sigh. It is an odd way to answer a question, but I let her be. I don’t want to dig, and she offers nothing more.
“Are you hungry? Want me to fix you something? Or I can order something in?” I ask her, knowing she came straight from work and probably hasn’t eaten. I have no idea how to cook packet ramen, but the pizza shop down the road does an excellent pepperoni pizza that makes my mouth water just at the thought.
“I’ve kinda lost my appetite.” She is looking more tired now, so I finish my cup of hot chocolate.
“I should go. Let you rest,” I say, standing, grabbing her empty cup and mine, taking them to the sink and rinsing them, the new tapware now working a treat.
“Make sure you call Brian if you need anything. Just dial nine.” She stands and meets me in the kitchen. “If you need security at all, dial four. They have someone there twenty-four seven.”
“I’m sure I will be fine.” I almost believe her.
“Here,” I say, grabbing a pen and paper from the side desk. I scribble my name and number. “If you need anything or just want to chat.” Giving her the paper with my number feels weird. I don’t ever give out my number, but with her, I am coming to realize, I do everything a little differently.
“I’ll be okay.” She comes to stand next to me. I can feel her body heat, and I watch her look up at me, her long hair falling like waves down her back, my fingers twitching to touch her. I feel her then, as she grabs my hand and squeezes it before she lifts on her toes and kisses my cheek. Her movements are slow. Deliberate. Her lips soft, they barely touch my skin, yet the warmth that spreads through me is instant. My hand moves immediately as it lightly wraps around her lower back, holding her for a moment.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, keeping her face close, her eyes calling to mine.
“You’re welcome,” I murmur, my heart nearly thumping out of my chest. I strum my nose against her cheek, liking the feel of her close to me. All I would need to do is move my head a little and put my lips on hers.
“I appreciate everything you have done,” she whispers, pulling away and lowering back to her feet, and I fight the urge I have to scoop her up as my hand moves up her body. I cup her face, looking at her seriously for a moment.
“Call me. For anything.” I try to cement the words into her, wanting her to call me the minute she needs something. Reluctantly, I release my hold on her, and she slips her hand into mine as we walk to the door. I am not keen to leave her, but I have to. I can’t stay here all night and watch her sleep. Besides, I wasn't lying earlier. She is safe here. No one can reach her when she is in this apartment.
“Good night,” she says quietly as she leans lazily against the open door, the shock of the last few moments now wearing off us both.
“Good night.” I stand there, watching her until the door closes and I hear it lock. I still, taking in some deep breaths as my heart races. Now I want her even more. Being close to her like that has lit a fire in me, and now I crave her. Knowing that she is locked in and safe, I strut back to the elevator and make my way to the ground floor. As I stalk out of the elevator and back into the lobby, Brian looks up.
