What is he hiding?
And why am I so ready to throw the question away and jump into his bed?
I can give him my body. Even though I'm scared, I can handle that.
But what if that's not enough for him?
What if he wants my mind? My heart?
My everything?
- Eve
Chapter Fifteen
Ian
All day, I struggle to concentrate. Nothing helps. Not tea, running, diving into an enemy's secrets, re-reading Eve's last entry.
My body stays electric. My limbs stay light. My thoughts stay dirty.
How am I supposed to find the place this CEO has hidden his stolen money with images of Eve in my head?
They refuse to budge.
Her black nails against my back.
Her berry lips parting with a groan.
Her soft body splayed out over the bed.
And other images. Sweet, romantic ones.
Her eyes lighting up as she launches into a discussion of her favorite book.
Her lips curling into a smile.
Her laugh filling the room as she twirls on her heel, showing off some gorgeous black dress.
It's bad news. And, worse, I'm too far gone to care. This is it. Four hours until I sign the papers.
Four hours until she's mine.
For thirty days.
That's all I get.
Right now, it's unfathomable.
How can thirty days ever be enough? How can anything be enough?
I need everything.
Forever.
Which is why I need the strict end point. Thirty days isn't enough time to ruin me.
No open hearts or wedding rings or divorce papers.
No one gets hurt.
It's for the best. No matter how little I like it.
The day ticks by.
Three hours.
Two.
One.
Twenty minutes.
I shut down my computer. Ready my paperwork. Check the office.
It's emptying, but it's far from empty. Half a dozen assistants. Plus a few executives.
Shepard in the kitchen, chatting with a new associate.
Shep catches me watching. Shakes his head sad to see a man who's fallen so far. Dismisses the man he's talking to. Motions for me to come here.
He waits until the associate is out of earshot. "Someone put extra honey in your tea."
"Is that a metaphor?"
"I'm trying something new."
"It doesn't suit you."
"Neither does the attempt at playing cool." He takes a long sip of his coffee. Studies me with that Shep-like stare. I'll find your weak point and exploit it. "Is it today? Are you finally breaking your rule?"
"Nice to see you too."
Shep holds up his espresso cup. "Should I hand this straight to you so we can get it over with?"
"Absolutely."
He chuckles as he hands me the espresso.
I take a sip. "Rubbish. As always."
He shakes his head. Takes the cup. Places it in the sink. Starts fixing another. "What's the arrangement this time?"
"Thirty days."
"And her virginity?"
"Not technically."
"Of course. Not… technically." Shep fills the electric kettle. Turns it to boil. "Do you believe that?"
"What's to believe? Technically, I'm paying for her time. She can say no at any point. I'll still pay her."
"What if she does?"
"I'll be incredibly disappointed."
He half-smiles. "You're nervous."
I shrug like I don't know what he means.
"Should I grab the gin instead."
"Maybe. I'll need to toast soon."
He raises a brow. "What did it cost?"
"I would have paid more."
The espresso machine hisses. Then it's the drip, drip, drip. One of those pod machines. Not the best for the best. Mediocrity. Compromise. "Do I hear embarrassment in Ian Hunt's voice?"
"No."
"Apprehension?"
"Never."
"Then what is it? I've never known you to shy away from sharing a good deal."
"Since when do you want illicit details?" I ask. "You usually complain you're not interested in my dalliances."
"My wife is rooting for you."
"Call Jasmine. I'll tell her."
"She's at an acting class." He pulls out his cell. "But I can leave a message." He pretends as if he's leaving a voice mail for his wife. "Princess, you won't believe the gossip I have from Ian. The object of his obsession is about to be his for thirty days. The usual deal. Only this time, he's paying for the privilege." He looks to me and raises a brow.
"Less than you paid her to marry you."
"I paid for a year."
"Yes, and Jasmine is lovely. Far too beautiful and articulate for you."
"Ha ha." He rolls his eyes. Heard that before.
"But she's no Eve."
"I'm not sure you want to share that with my wife. Not in those words. Maybe focus on how you're obsessed with her and willing to pay anything."
"I'm not obsessed."
He raises a brow really?
Okay, I'm obsessed. Incredibly, painfully, unbearably obsessed. "It's the mystery. Once I have her, know her… it will be the same as it always is."
"A parting gift and nothing but memories?"
"Of course."
"Do you really believe that?"
"Yes," I lie.
He shakes his head not buying it. Turns to the steaming kettle. "Do you want that tea?"
The ding of the lift interrupts me.
It's her. I can feel it in the way the air changes.
Footsteps move closer. The soft thunk of her heeled boots. She moves down the hallway. Straight to my office.
Shepard follows my gaze. "You should pick your jaw up from the floor."
"I'm not—"
"You have that gin in your office?"
"Why? Ready to break your dry streak?" I don't usually refer to the man's alcoholism. He doesn't usually refer to my ex-wife. We taunt each other plenty, but it's playful, not blood-thirsty.
"Because you're going to need it."
"I don't."
"In thirty days, when she breaks your heart… I won't say I told you so."
"She won't." I say it without conviction.
He knows. But he doesn't call me on it.
Chapter Sixteen
Eve
After a quick hello, I pull the folder from my bag. A new bag. Filled with new things.
This folder. A nylon pen case. A dozen new pens in every color.
And a diary. An old school leather one. In case my thoughts start to jumble.
It's the only thing that helps. And something tells me I'm not going to have the patience to wait until I'm in front of my computer.
A mess is coming.
Ian is already sending me in every possible direction.
And this—
No second thoughts. Even if I'm scared.
This is a good thing. No matter how much the butterflies in my stomach want to argue otherwise.