After a long minute of thinking it through, Charity came to terms with her decision. “Okay.” A sly grin spread across her face, as if she could legitimately make a demand. “On one condition.”
17
Charity
Charity knew her ultimatum was silly. Laughable. It couldn’t be more comical unless she sported a big, fat pair of clown testicles over her skirt. But between her slow sips of vodka and the nice guy masquerading as an a-hole, could she be entitled to a piece of Alex Drake? A small, vulnerable corner of his soul she’d always protect?
“Fine,” he said, playing along with a good-natured chuckle. “Give me your demands.”
My demands. Hmm.
Sweetly, Charity fluttered her eyelashes, debating a few distractions. “Could you find a safe hiding place for that? If I put six figures in a bank account at once, red flags go up left and right.” When he didn’t snap to it, she said, “I know this place is safe. But with that much cash around, I won’t be able to sleep. I was going to stash it under the mattress, but it seemed too obvious.”
The contemplation in his rigid jaw melted to a smile. “Sure. I’ll slip the pouch behind an air vent. It’ll only take a minute.”
“Oh, no rush.” We’re going to need more than a minute.
“Let me find a low wall vent. It’ll rest just inside.” Crossing the room, he scanned the walls and floors, inspecting each vent one after the other. “They’re all floor ones in here, but I might have luck in another room. Let me check around. Do you have some tools? I’ll need it for the screw.”
Oh, I know the tool you’ll need for the screw.
To avoid suspicion, Charity simply nodded. “I think there’s a vent that’ll work in the master bathroom. And there’s a small tool bag under the sink.”
Pouch in hand, he followed the nudge of her chin down the hall to her bedroom. She stayed on his heels, but not too close. The slightest inkling of her little scheme, and he’d be gone faster than a case of cock rings at a BDSM convention.
As he got to work, she busied herself with her own agenda, softly shutting the door between them.
“I like your pink tools,” he hollered. “I didn’t know I could screw and get so in touch with my emotions.” His muffled voice carried through the door she’d softly shut.
In a low voice, Charity said, “Oh, you’re about to have a breakthrough.”
“What breakthrough?” he hollered, not letting a closed bathroom door interfere with their conversation.
“I said I hope you don’t break through . . . the wall . . . or anything.” Fucker really does have the hearing of a dog.
Relying on the element of surprise, she kept up the small bits of conversation, asking if he might check the wobbly towel rack and possibly kill any lurking spiders.
Rushing her task, Charity worked feverishly. With a few seconds to spare, her butt hit the mattress just as he stepped through the door.
“All set,” he said. Wide-eyed, he froze, a buck in her headlights.
Thanks to a new pair of strappy white heels, she wasn’t completely naked. But her best sexting attire caught him more off guard than she’d imagined, and his stare was disturbing. He wasn’t looking at her body. Instead, his intensity was focused straight on her eyes.
With one leg crossed over the other, she leaned back on the bed, hoping the sultry pose disguised her need to avert her eyes. Imagining herself on a beach in Saint Tropez, she wore a comfortable smile, grateful to the vodka gods for taking the edge off.
Whimsically, he broke the silence. “Should I get more cash?”
“Depends. How freaky are you getting?”
Curious, she had to see his reaction. The second she looked back, his eyes locked on hers. Though her breath hitched and her lips parted, his gaze told her nothing. It was the best poker face she’d ever seen.
Alex stepped closer, seeming to peer past her facade and half-truths, crumbling the walls she’d spent years building.
Softly, he asked, “What do you want, Charity? What could you possibly want from a man you haven’t seen in eighteen months, who you’ll probably never see again after tonight?”
And that was that. In just a few words, he stripped away any closeness between them. The exposure of offering herself held little value to a man who had everything. The charade was over. She’d never be more than a hooker.
Charity sat up, letting out a long breath to keep a determined little tear from running free. At least he’s being honest. “I’m sorry. A man like you has his pick of better women—”
“Stop,” he whispered.
His warm hands took hers, squeezing gently before releasing them. Cupping her cheeks, he offered her tenderness that was a far cry from the man shooting her down a moment ago.
“Diamonds aren’t born of other diamonds. It takes unbelievable pressure and resistance to form something so brilliant and beautiful. You’ve got more character than most of New York, and your stunning beauty comes from your strength. I’m my usual asshole self for not wanting to get completely lost in your body. This isn’t about you, Charity. It’s about me. You’re entitled to more than I can give. I’m not cut out for a relationship. The truth is, I don’t deserve one.”
“Because of the woman you keep looking for?” she asked, and his quiet stare was enough of an answer. “Look, let me set your mind at ease—reassure you using your own words. I’m not here to hurt you. I’d like to help you, if you’ll let me. To do with as you please, no strings attached. Okay?”
She was ready to welcome all of him, if only he’d let her. Despite his closeness, that wall of his was still high, keeping an emotional divide between them.
Finally, he spoke. “You didn’t give me an answer. What do you want?”
“To give you this. Whatever it is that you want, that I think you need. No expectations. No judgment. And if you’re worried about feeling indebted, don’t. Think of it as a one-time business transaction. The money in the bathroom might be just enough to cover the rate of a high-end pay-to-play girl catering to the elite.”
“Plus tip,” he said with a smirk. “You’re certainly persuasive at pleading your case.”
Alex’s half smile was knowing. Naughty. But proving her worth would take more than a sales pitch. Her act had to be one that no one had shown him.
Slow enough not to scare away her big game, Charity smoothed her hands up the stiff muscles of his chest, doing just enough to loosen his tie. His expression was more questioning than comfortable, but it was enough leeway for her to carry out her insistent task.
Carefully, she slipped the tie over his neck and head. Dangling from her finger, the deep blue silk was richly woven, holding the knot just where she needed it.
“Hang on.” It was the first time any concern showed on his usually unflinching brow.
“Don’t worry. Just this. Nothing else. What you need is a change of pace. Word on the street is you like taking a woman from behind. A straight blow job occasionally, but a grade-A ass shot is your preference.”
“Well, the latest word is that I like my girls tasting like Dijon and am into nursery rhymes. You can’t believe everything you hear.”