Page 56 of Ruthless Love

“Good morning,” he says softly to my lips in a tease of soft and hard kisses. “We ... should talk.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

EVIE

Curling up in his hold, I nestle my head against the crook of his neck, holding my breath as he says, “It’s about my occupation.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” I say quickly, well-rehearsed in the words I tell myself a thousand times an hour in my head.

When he lifts a single brow high with playful skepticism, I shrug my guilt.

“True,” I say, “but I might be prone to a little jealousy. I know it’s your career, so I want to be supportive and give you—”

His lips crush mine as his arms wrap my body in the safety of his strong hold. He tears away to ask, “Would it change things if I wasn’t a hooker?”

“Austin, it’s okay. I won’t judge you. And I won’t tell Coop, if that’s what’s worrying you. But I can’t avoid the facts. You sleep with women for money. And, make no mistake, you’re damn good at it. But—”

“Evie,” he says, weaving his fingers through mine. “I am not a gigolo. I don’t take money to sleep with women.”

My body jolts, and his hand tightens gently. With a large degree of utter confusion and a small degree of protest, I wiggle uselessly to free myself. “But you said you were.”

“No, you said I was. Repeatedly. I just didn’t object.”

“But ... you slept with me.”

“Slept? No. I’m positive I didn’t sleep with you.”

I feel my brows pop clear to my hairline, and my hand loosens enough so I can swat his chest. “Austin!”

“What? I’m pretty sure I gave you exactly what you wanted. Have you worried once about crumpling at his touch? Or that you might cower at the thought of returning his ring? And I believe we can both agree on your receiving the orgasms you wanted.”

With that, my arms tighten across my chest. Horrified, I stare at him in disbelief. “My climaxes were given under false pretenses,” I say, arguing pathetically.

He laughs but doesn’t mock me. “I asked you about honesty, and you said it wasn’t needed.”

Austin keeps his gaze on me, searching my eyes with a smile before I speak up.

“So, let me get this straight. You get weird visits from a variety of women at all hours of the early morning—sometimes they hang out, and sometimes they don’t—but they always deliver an envelope of what I assumed was cash. If you’re not a hooker, then what are you?”

To that, he says nothing, which sends my anxiety into the stratosphere.

“Austin?” When he keeps opening his mouth like he’s about to explain it all, then keeps clamming up, I lose my shit. “You have to tell me something.”

“I can’t tell you why I get those visits. But trust me, they’re not what you think.”

“Did you actually ask me to trust you?” I fume for a moment, then unleash another heated question. “Why on earth did you sleep with me?”

“Sleep?” he asks, reminding me of the inaccurate word.

When he lifts that brow again and gives me a smile that I’m sure lets him get away with everything, I restate the question. “Why did you fuck me?”

“Because you wanted me to.” He takes my hand and kisses it sweetly, then unapologetically adds, “And I wanted you.”

Speechless, I avert my gaze as his light strokes across my arms soothe me.

Whispering to my hair, he nuzzles me with, “You’re mine, Evie.”

I’m his, I remind myself, and push away the knots that have tightened in my stomach from Austin confronting Dimitri. It’s been nearly a week, but the worry is always there. Still, with each passing day, ignoring my worries is easier. For the first time in maybe my entire life, I feel connected. Wanted. Close.

---