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“And you felt he needed rescuing from his boring life?”
I was half-joking, but she doesn’t deny it.
Well, shit.
“Ask me,” she says, her smile lingering, like a faint star in the dark.
“Will I have to undress?”
She snickers.
“What’s his job?”
“Investment analyst.”
“He makes lots of money, huh?”
She laughs. “He does okay. His family is well off, anyway. His father’s military, a decorated officer. They own a lot of property.”
Lucky rich boy.
His mom’s dead.
Still.
“And you know a lot about his family.”
One slender shoulder rolls in a shrug. “I read up on him.”
“He’s your project.”
Another shrug. “You like him,” she says smugly.
“I don’t!” Arrogant, selfish bastard.
She winks.
What? Just because I said he’s hot?
But I remember how he caught me as I was falling in the snow, how he helped me look for my brother, how he came back to check on me.
How he held me, like I was his.
You stupid moron, Riddick. Stop.
“I think you feel it, too,” she says.
I lift my gaze. “Feel what?”
The only thing I’m feeling is that I’m missing something here.
“Don’t you see?” This time her smile is brilliant like a sunrise.
“See what?” It’s the night of riddles. Solve one, get one for free.
“That you also glimpse the gold.”
“The gold?”
