Page 11 of Savage Little Lies

Can I really call it breakfast, though? It’s essentially just a lump of sugar.

Once we receive our items, we take a seat at a table in front of the window that showcases the rest of downtown Las Vegas. It’s a surprisingly overcast day, donning the city in a grayish hue.

“Here’s your fork,” Cara says as she holds a plastic utensil out to me.

I take it and cut up a small piece of the Danish. I inspect it for a moment before putting it in my mouth where an explosion of sweetness hits my tastebuds. It’s almost overwhelming, but damn it’s good.

“It’s better than I expected,” I tell her before sipping on my coffee, which isn’t sweet in the slightest making it a good chaser.

Cara smiles then licks her fork after finishing her bite, making me clench my fist under the table. She’s killing me today. “You’ve been working a lot lately. More than usual.”

Given how little time she has spent with me, I’m surprised she noticed.

“I’m running into an issue with my antique shop,” I tell her before stealing another swipe of filling. “Transportation issues. My main guy for that is…on an extended vacation.”

Cara nods as she sips her latte. “What kind of transportation issues?”

“I need trucks, and to send a shipment of small packages to my buyer, but I’d like them to not be seen if law enforcement decided to check the delivery trucks,” I reply as I watch her expression to see if she’s catching on.

“Questionable items?” Cara asks with a straight face.

“You could say that,” I tell her. I’m not sure why I’m revealing this much of the “other side” of my business to her today. That damn dress appears to be loosening my tongue. Her mouthwatering figure is more potent than a truth serum.

“Do you have an inventory list of the antique items in your shop?” Cara replies after a few moments.

I nod.

“If you want to send it to me, I can take a look and try to help you come up with a solution,” she offers.

Cara is…strangely comfortable discussing criminal activity, like she’s familiar with it or just that fearless.

Something about the thought of her being a little bad underneath the persona of someone who seems so good makes me so damn hard. Just how bad is she?

“How about we work together? We could strategize after hours,” I suggest, eager to spend more time together. She already seems confident in coming up with something with the small amount of information she has now. I can only imagine how effective she’ll be when she gets the rest of what she needs.

While I try to tell myself that it’s her brain that’s impressive to me, I know it’s more than that. The damn dress just seems to be amplifying her siren call, more so than usual today.

“I’d be happy to,” Cara replies with an easy smile, her eyes lingering on mine. “I’m here to help you in any way I can.”

In. Any. Way. She. Can.

She has no idea what she’s offering.

Or does she?

If so, I wonder just how much it would cost me to have her any way I want. After all, everyone has a price.

I would ask if I were a weaker man.

But I’ve got two empires to run, am soon to be engaged, and have no time for messy dalliances with my staff that might throw a wrench into my future. One mistake could cost me more than I’m willing to risk.

Still, I want to see her tonight. The more time we spend together, the more likely I’ll find that she’s just like all the other women who only see me as their personal ATM.

Yes, that’s exactly what I want, proof that there’s nothing extraordinary about her. It’s only a matter of time.

“How late should I plan on staying?” she asks.

I take another bite of the Danish, starting to grow more used to the punch of sweetness. “Late, milaya. I’ll order us dinner.”