Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“I’d just come in from a business dinner when I saw you,” he said, setting his phone down and reaching for the cocktail in front of him. “Who was the man you were with?”
The soup was incredible. I quickly swallowed another spoonful. “What, at the bar? I didn’t catch his name.”
His eyes darkened. “The man who left you in Europe. You were with someone at the bar?”
I blinked at him, suddenly realizing my mistake. “Oh. Nobody. Nothing.”
He simply stared at me until I confessed. “I picked up a guy at the bar. He was in the men’s room when you found me. We were going up to his room.”
Locke’s eyes flicked to my backpack, which had been part of my cover. I’d lived out of the one bag the entire time I’d been in Germany. If I never saw the damned thing again, I’d be happy.
I realized he was putting two and two together and getting twelve. He clearly thought I’d come to this hotel bar to pick up a rich guy for a free stay in a nicer place than I’d ever be able to afford. I made a mental note not to let him see the hotel key card in my back pocket.
“Thank you for the food,” I said, trying to change the subject.
“You should take better care of yourself.” He sounded irked.
“You make it sound so easy,” I said, irked, too, for another reason. I’d spent most of this year in degradation and discomfort to keep at least ten large shipments of illegal weapons from reaching mainland Europe and getting into the hands of ultra-right terrorists, which would’ve destabilized the entire fucking world, including his precious shipping empire.
Locke’s jaw flexed, and his frown intensified before he blew out a breath. “I’ll take you home.”
I stared at him in disbelief. He’d said it like he was doing me some giant favor. What an egotistical ass. “I don’t need your fucking charity.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I have a plane, and I’m headed to New York in the morning anyway.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You really going to waste your money just to save your pride?”
I was so tired, I wanted to cry. If this was how I felt in a temporary moment of weakness, I couldn’t imagine how people who really lived in dire straits all the time felt. “I’m going to go.”
Locke stood and moved toward me just as I stumbled over the foot of the table.
When he curled his hands into fists instead of reaching to steady me, I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or disappointed.
“Stay,” he demanded in a tone that probably worked on all his underlings.
I glared at him. “No.”
“Please,” he ground out. “I already told you we’re not having sex. So just fucking… stay, okay? Get some decent sleep.”
His reminder that he wasn’t interested in me sexually should have been a relief. I was too tired, too worn-out, even though I wanted him. Badly.
But it stung nonetheless.
The set of his jaw was counterbalanced by the concern in his eyes and the furrow between his eyebrows.
Always so damn serious.
I wanted to ask him why he cared so much about where I slept. Why he’d somehow made me his responsibility. But I didn’t think he’d answer honestly.
Locke Maris was a difficult nut to crack. And he obviously had no interest in me cracking his nut, which was probably for the best. It was too messy, and I cared too much about my career.
For tonight, though, I could at least allow myself to stay with someone I could trust.
“Okay.”
6
LOCKE
My thoughts were all over the place. How did this guy manage to get under my skin the way he did?
Maybe he was right. Maybe I saw him as a charity project. But it wasn’t pity I felt when I looked at him. It was anger.
I wanted to salt the fucking earth.
He was a completely different Jett than the one I’d known. Skin and bones, weary and exhausted, when he should be smiling and dancing unabashedly. How dare the man he’d been with treat him like shit?
If I had someone under my protection, I’d make sure they had everything they needed. More than that, I’d make them feel special. Precious. Any man who could afford to bring an escort halfway around the world could also afford to treat him right.
Jett would eventually give me the guy’s name. And then I’d make sure the asshole rued the day he ever laid eyes on this kid.
“You’re welcome to shower,” I said, trying hard not to scare Jett off. I could tell he was on the edge of bolting, and the very idea that he’d have to find another man to charm into a free room for the night made me sick to my stomach.
Clearly, he’d needed food and sleep. Not sex.
Not that I didn’t want to fuck him. I did. In fact, when I was with Jett, my sexual attraction to women was nonexistent. Like smoke suddenly ripped out of the air by a vacuum—there one minute and gone the next.