Page 84 of Ruthless Legacy

Elliot

“Ican explain.”

Ryder’s words shoot through me. And I keep staring at the cards in my hand, willing it not to shake.

Of all the things he could have said, those three words are up there among the worst.

“You’re collecting numbers, Ryder.”

“No, well, I know one of the women and she wants—”

“We all know what they want. I thought we went through how to handle all this. Or are you just trying to get a jump on the time you’re free? You know, like a collection plate, but with women instead of money.”

He snatches the cards back. Looks at them, then shoves them at me. “No. Jesus, it would be nice, just for once, for someone to believe in me.”

He can’t change. I know that now. Whatever excuse he might come up with, he can’t. Ryder’s hard wired to want women. As in plural. One could never satisfy him. Abstinence certainly wasn’t doable for him, and now, right after we have sex—or near enough—he’s at it again.

“You keep this shit up, Ryder, and you’re going to lose.”

“I have just over two weeks left.”

“And you can’t help yourself.”

His eyes burn dark fire. “Some chick put her card in my pocket. I know Leah. And yeah, you want to know? We did. Ages ago. She’s happily engaged now. She wants me to help her cousin find a place. That’s all. I let her know I wasn’t interested. I might have jumped the gun, but I was trying to have it out there I wasn’t interested. That I’m not available. It’s why I’m standing here like an asshole. And you…”

He stops, shakes his head and signals to the bartender. “Bourbon, straight up, please.” Then he glares at me. “And you brand me and damn me without a trial. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

I take deep, calming breaths. “This isn’t the place for this discussion.”

Am I being unreasonable? There’s a part of me that’s sure I am, because that’s the part who walked out before he could do that to me, metaphorically speaking. If I set those personal rules, this can’t hurt as much, right?

But there’s the professional Elliot at play, here, too. And she knows he needs hard core.

Because I haven’t failed in my job and I’m not about to start, not with Ryder Sinclair.

Too many people are looking at us, including his brothers. All tall, all dark, all impossibly good looking. And Ryder’s the most beautiful one of them all. He could walk into a room dressed like a hobo and people would gravitate. He’s beautiful and he has presence and that’s part of why this thing with him is so difficult. If he blended in, it wouldn’t matter. I’d be able to be more hands off. But couple his looks with his personality, his allure and his way with women, then…

Under the circumstances of the job, he’s a disaster always waiting to happen.

His hand curls around mine and I almost rip it from his grip. He’s too there, too real. The heat and electricity of his touch tumbles through me and pushes hard against the flimsy walls I’ve built.

“Don’t fight, Perry.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re about to.” He murmurs this against my ear and I try not to shiver. “And my mother is avidly watching. Along with my brothers.”

And half the room, even if they’re pretending not to. I smile up at him, even though I don’t feel it inside. “Fine. We can take this elsewhere.”

“Or we can forget it.”

“Not a chance, not if you want me to work for you.”

He nods. “You win, for now.”

And with that, we make our way outside and we wait until his car arrives. I slide in and he follows. We’re silent as we drive across town, the streets of Manhattan melting past us.

We pull up in Greenwich Village outside what looks to be one of those charming residential streets just off Bank Street.

---