Page 19 of Raising the Sun

“I’ve only been doing this a couple of years.” I shrugged. “I’m a tiny fish in a massive pond. Not even a fish, I’m a grain of salt.”

“You’re talented at what you do, yes? And once upon a time, you believed in yourself enough to set up this business—a feat that not many achieve.” He tilted his head. “Where is that belief now?”

“That’s not—” I ground my teeth. “I have to be rational, and rationally, I’m not at that level yet. You should see some of these people, the creations they can pull out of their arses. I’d never win, so entering is a waste of time.”

One of his brows ticked up. “You are a fortune teller now? How quaint.”

“You know,” I said blandly. “You may actually be more of an interfering pain in my arse than my brother.”

He beamed as if it was a compliment and barrelled on, undeterred. “What is it you humans say… ‘fortune favours the bold?’ An interesting concept. A little naive, but not entirely without merit.”

“And I can still be bold in a few years,” I said, well and truly done with this conversation. “If I haven’t sunk myself into debt by then.”

“Or you could do it while you have the advantage of an extra pair of hands.Powerfulhands,” he said. He was persistent, I’d give him that, and also exuded more confidence than I would ever have. I was a little jealous. “Regrets are better left to the dying, my dear. Why force them upon yourself early?”

I didn’t bother repeating that I hadn’t yet shelled out for his assistance; I suspected he was well aware of the fact and was doing whatever the hell he wanted regardless. Or he was just positive that I’d break soon and was planning accordingly. To what end, I didn’t dare ask. Some twisted game for his own amusement, probably. Either way, I was already learning how hopeless it was to contradict him.

Given the spoiled bratpersona, he was the type who’d have an adverse reaction to the word ‘no’ and would sign me up himself just to be spiteful. It was easier for everyone involved to let him think I was taking his suggestions on board. Even if I was already planning to rip up the leaflet and set it alight.

I took the offending item from him and nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Well, don’t take too long, the cut-off is in three days.” He picked his book up again, reclining on the sofa as if he owned it. “Oh, and I took the liberty of copying down the details, in case you have any funny notions of ridding yourself of the leaflet. Or are too slow.”

I stared at the back of his head in suspicion, debating whether he could somehow read my mind or if I was just alarmingly transparent, before realising it was out of my control and not worth worrying about.

Throwing my hands up with a scoff, I finally left the room, but halfway down the hall, something made me hesitate, a voice in my head that urged me to scan the contest details once more with clearer eyes and reassess.

“Once upon a time, you believed in yourself…”

“Where is that belief now?”

The faintest smile tugged at my lips without permission. Shaking my head in disbelief, and before I could talk myself out of it, I marched to my bedroom, where I booted up my laptop and drafted a new email.

Fucking nosy demons.

First the robe, then the crop top, and now nothing but a towel and the water droplets clinging to his skin like morning dew. Ash was doing it on purpose. He had to be. He wanted me to cave, or to give me an aneurysm so he could leave, one state of undress at a time. Those were the only two theories I could muster as we both stepped into the hallway at,conveniently, the same time—me leaving my bedroom as he exited the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing behind him.

I’d slept decently for the first time in months, and all I’d wanted was to sneak into the kitchen, make my coffee, and drink it in peace before having to get ready for work. Ash had timed his interruption of my plans perfectly. It wasn’t innocent—I’d wager nothing he’d ever done was innocent, not with that impish grin plastered to his face and those dark, enticing eyes meeting mine as if challenging me to make the first move.

But I was frozen.

My feet were rooted to the floor just past my doorway, and I gripped the frame for both balance and distraction. No sound came from either of us as we locked gazes, only the ambient noises of a lived-in flat—the fan in the bathroom whirring for its life, and the drains gurgling with every last drop ofhis bathwater. It was easy to drown them out, especially with blood rushing in my ears and my pulse racing.

Without a hint of shyness, Ash held my gaze as he unhooked the towel hanging from his waist and let it pool around his feet, leaving him completely bare. He straightened to his full height, the tips of his horns almost brushing the ceiling, chin raised as if inviting me to gawp at him, to take in exactly what I was missing. He didn’t need to be naked for that. I already knew he was sin incarnate, but having the visual proof—ginger hair cascading like wet silk down his back, lean muscles reflecting the dawn’s yellow light, and his cock, smooth and pretty, nestled between soft, toned thighs—drove the point home.

My dick twitched with interest. I couldn’t help it. It was my first time seeing a man naked in the flesh, and he was flawless. Of course my body would react. But it wasn’t just that. Ash’s confidence was intoxicating. It was arrogance, a god complex that didn’t seem entirely misplaced, and I should’ve hated it, but I couldn’t. He was everything I wasn’t. We were opposites in every way, and it both terrified and aroused me. It made me want to run for the hills, but alsobeg.

Obviously impatient with my lack of decision on the matter, Ash stalked towards me, steps silent and calculated, movements sinuous. He towered a head or so above me, standing so close the heat radiating from his skin seeped into mine and his breath kissed my face. No part of us was touching—not even the obscene tent in my boxers grazedhis leg, surprisingly—but I still felt pinned, bracketed to the wall by his self-assured posture and the hunger in his eyes.

My heartbeat quickened.

“I don’t want to use you,” I murmured, throat dry.

It wasn’t a refusal, and with the way Ash’s eyes flared in victory, he realised it, too.

“Then letmeuseyou,” he purred before lowering himself gracefully to his knees, the sight enough to steal all the breath from my lungs. “Why keep denying yourself when we both know you desire me?”

Fucked if I knew the answer to that. Fucked if I knewanything. Not when his fingers were trailing through the coarse hairs on my belly before dipping under the waistband of my boxers. All thoughts in my brain grew foggy, and I had to close my eyes and steady myself as he lifted the hem of my T-shirt with one hand and peeled my boxers down my thighs with the other.

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