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There’s a fundraiser tonight for the homeless and I’m holding it. Not me personally, but one of my subsidiaries. I don’t want the Sinclair name on it. I want to show I can do virtuous things without putting my name up in lights. But maybe it’s a good way to work on my plan of stealing everything from out beneath pretty Zoey’s feet.
It’s not stealing, I tell myself, because I’m planning on giving her an outrageous payout once I have this place. It’s just the way I’m going to get it is a little…unconventional.
“I wanted to say thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve been out and about, and…” I shrug and give her my most disarming smile, and sweet Zoey smiles back. “You work hard here, and I wouldn’t ask, but…”
“Anything.”
There it is again, that bleeding heart complex she has that seems to come with a touch of hero complex. It’s like she never read one of these damn books. It’s like she’s not from this modern New York.
Actually, that’s it. There’s an air of…not old fashioned, but other world about her, like she’s from a time when people left doors unlocked, and trusted without a second thought, and gave their coats to a stranger without question.
I make a note to check her locks in the evening. I’m basically teaching her about the world, which she needs. Sure, I have to trick her out of her building, but that’s part of the lesson.
“I might ask for a million dollars.” I come up to her, because she smells good and the scent is low, subtle, tantalizing, and needs a man to be up close to appreciate it. Something, I’m sure, to do with the heat of her body. I pick up one of her dark curls and twist it in my fingers.
Her breath is uneven and her pupils large as she looks up at me. And damn if that mouth of hers isn’t soft and inviting. I bet it’s better savored, tasted slow and deep. Last night wasn’t anything, even if it did hit my cock with some kind of dark magic, that fleeting little kiss.
“I don’t have a million dollars. But if I did and you needed it, I would.”
She sucks in a breath and it’s like time goes still.
All it would take is me to shift a little closer, stroke my thumb against her cheek, and brush her lips once more. She’d give everything I ask for with that kiss.
Inexplicably, a burst of anger heats my blood and I step back. How has she even survived so long being her?
But that’s to my advantage. “I don’t need a million bucks.” And it’s really true. I don’t. “What I do need is company. Tomorrow night. For a good cause. A charity dear to my heart.”
“I’ll check my social calendar.” She looks at the ceiling a moment. “I think I can squeeze you in.”
Homeless events go on all the time and I’m aware there’s a deeper problem at work than just throwing money at it, like feeding the world’s starving. All things I’m…throwing money at. I do, anyway, but these are things my mother will see through. And I know that woman’s got Jenson’s ear. So I need to build on what I have, and this idea is going to take at least a day to throw something together.
“You didn’t ask what it was.”
She shrugs, and it’s so disarming for a moment it’s hard to breathe. “I don’t have to. You’re a good person, Magnus. Only a good person looks after their aged relative and gives up bigger opportunities.”
“You’d do it.”
“I…” Her gaze shifts.
“You have, haven’t you?”
She nods and looks back at me with tears that shimmer but don’t fall. “I know you don’t understand how special this place is to me, but my grandparents…my grandpa worked the store. But my grandmother, she was the backbone. She sacrificed and fought off the wolves when they circled. And…” Zoey laughs. “It doesn’t matter. Suffice to say, this place means the world to me, which is why no big corporation is getting their hands on it. Once I go, the whole neighborhood crumbles.”
Which is the idea.
“It’s for the elderly. Making sure they have enough, their dignity and as much freedom as possible.” It’s so perfect, I sigh. And I haven’t even gotten to poor nonexistent gran’s need for an operation, and the fact my evil company is going to turf her out unless she can come up with tons of cash.
Ignoring the twinge of guilt, which is probably lack of sleep and nothing more, I continue. Little nuggets doled out over time. Like fishing. Or what I imagine fishing to be like. I don’t have time for such crap unless there’s a huge payoff waiting for me at the end of the hook.
“With Gran…” I pause, giving her room to imagine everything she can. With Zoey’s sweet nature and soft and giant heart, I’m sure she can go places my black heart doesn’t know exists. Which is why it’s perfect. “Her injury brought home just how important having freedom, being able to do things like eat, go to the bathroom, get around, and have a roof and a routine, is to someone’s physical and mental health. Especially when they’re older.”
“I’ll go.” She catches hold of my hand and squeezes, and I feel it everywhere. “I’ll bring my checkbook. Just let me know when and where.”
“No, you don’t make a donation.”
“I have to…I want to.”
I kiss her on the cheek. It’s soft and warm and lovely and not enough. Dangerous. I don’t even know where that word comes from, but it somehow fits. Touching her, kissing her, it’s dangerous.
