Page 40 of A Man of Wealth

When she can’t move me, she goes to duck under my arm, but I lower it, caging her in. She huffs in frustration. “I already got the intel.”

My body stills at her words. “You did?”

“I did.” She crosses her arms over her breasts in an attempt to show her disregard for my closeness. Only this backfires because now they are pushed up, exposing more of her creamy skin from beneath the neckline of her dress. This dress looks prim and proper, but I’d bet anything, she’s wearing some power panties beneath it. My curious cat came to play. But why?

“And what did you learn?” I prod, not moving from in front of her face.

Our eyes are locked in a battle of wills, neither of us resolving to break the stare war we have intentionally begun.

“There are at least three shipments a week. And one is on Wednesdays,” she replies giving me a pointed look as though to say, “See, I’m good at my job, so back the fuck off.” Fair enough.

“Then, I guess we need to revisit the shipyard on a Wednesday,” I respond.

“I guess we do,” she answers. She looks at the closed door behind us. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a date waiting for me.”

“Like fuck you do,” I say, my voice rising a bit.

She sighs and motions between us. “This isn’t going to work. We both know it. Why drag it out? We had some hot sex. Great. You don’t think I’m the devil reincarnate, but let’s be fair, you still have your secrets, and I don’t do secrets. I sure as fuck don’t build relationships on a platform made of them.”

“Who said I had secrets?”

She laughs. “Right? Are you being serious right now?”

“Yes. I. Am,” I state.

Rolling her eyes, she manages to duck under my arm this time. She walks to the door and looks back at me. “I was serious when I said this won’t work. Ditch the suit and meet me in front of Bubba’s Bar at eight Wednesday night.”

And with that she walks out the door, leaving me in stunned silence. No woman has ever left me in stunned silence. What. The. Fuck?

The primal part of me is ready to follow her out of the bathroom, toss her over my shoulder, smack that peach of an ass, and walk right out of this restaurant.

I leave the bathroom and head out the front door. Silas is at my back.

“Sir?” he asks.

I hold up a hand. “I want to walk back. Keep your distance.” He obliges and I spend eight blocks stewing over my conversation with Vivienne. This woman drives me insane. I don’t even know what to do with her.

I place earbuds in as I walk and dial Aiden. “What’s up?”

“Call me on the alt,” I state as I hang up and switch to my burner phone. We’ve all had one from time to time. It’s a way we can keep in touch without concerns of being listened to by unwanted ears.

“What?” he asks as his call comes through on my other phone.

“I’m going to the shipyard on Wednesday night.”

“Why Wednesday?”

“Because Vivienne met with Jared and got intel. It’s probably the best chance we have to find the containers with the drug,” I explain.

“Jesus, it’s a near impossible mission, you know that, right?”

“What else have you learned?”

“Hold on,” he says, “I’m three-waying Sebastian.”

A second later, Sebastian answers. “What?”

“Love you, too,” I say.

---