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“There’s intimacy and then there’s intimacy,” he says, pulling me in against him as he reaches for the remote control.
I smile against him. It’s true. The sex is physical, and that kiss and this? Emotional, and it’s also giving me room to breathe.
How the hell did I get so lucky in meeting him?
And what am I going to do when he finally walks away?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Magnus
“Mag? Magnus? Ed?”
I turn in my chair and glare at Ryder. “Why are you here again?”
“Checking in on you. Kingston’s out of town wheeling and dealing, and Hudson and Scarlett are in Europe.”
“So you’re bored.”
“Well…” He spreads his arms to encompass my office, “maybe I wanted to check up on how your task is going?”
“You’re bored. And it’s going well.” Actually, better than well.
The final pieces are ready for my ongoing charities and foundations and they’re good. Actually, I’m pleased to have done them. They look good on paper and they feel better, because I’m doing something that’ll make a difference.
It’s so fucking decent I disgust myself.
Since the pipes at the bookstore were like some kind of gift, my plans there are being fast tracked, too. Although that doesn’t have to come at the same time, there’s pressure.
The sooner I’m done, the sooner I’m free and the faster I shake the darkness that clings.
Darkness because I’m conning her. She’s going to offer to help my fake gran. That’s more than obvious. Amelia’s done her part by backing up the operation angle and the threat of losing her apartment.
I don’t need the money. I’m not going to take it, but the moment she shifts things the right way, we can topple the place from under her and snap it up under a subsidiary. The pipe is icing.
It should be sweeter than what it is.
“What happened to me being the bad guy?”
I give him a narrowed eyed look. “I told you that was just in passing.”
“Yeah, yeah, just thought I’d check.”
“Don’t.”
Ryder comes over after studying the plans I have up for the next phase of my dream, and picks up the matte black folder and flips through it.
“All of this…it looks good.” He looks me up and down. “So why don’t you look happy?”
I sigh. “I’m ecstatic.”
“Nothing to do with the little bookstore lady?”
“Leave her out of this.”
“I can’t. She’s your epicenter.”
I get up. “She’s nothing of the sort. A means to an end.”
