Page 15 of The Arrogant's Redemption

Why would a man like that want a fishing boat? Unless he’s one of those strange people with money for several lifetimes and still acts like it doesn't matter.

Someone once told me that the privileged only pretend money doesn’t matter—because they’ve never needed it. Only the poor understand the value of a full table and a roof over their head.

I force myself to focus as the man walks straight toward me. With every step, a strange unease grows in my chest. I’m used to dealing with the public. We serve all kinds of people at the restaurant, from all walks of life, but something about the way he moves—the relaxed confidence, the way he holds his headhigh without rushing...It’s intimidating. Like the world already belongs to him and he’s just walking through it.

I should at least pretend not to be watching him so closely, but I feel rooted to the spot, gripped by the need to see his face. His body is already.. .remarkable. Tall, lean, muscular, but not in an exaggerated way. It’s the kind of strength you notice without being told.

Yes,strength—that’s the word I’d use to define him.

I need to see his face, and there’s nothing I can do to stop the anticipation spreading through my chest.

God help me, if he really is the buyer, I need to stay professional. I can’t be attracted to the man who’s going to give me the money we need for Mom’s lawyers.

And then he’s only a few steps away, and a flush of heat spreads under my skin so fast I’m sure my cheeks are bright red.

I hold back a sigh as my gaze sweeps up to his face.

Dark blond hair—almost brown.

A sharply angled face with a square, rigid jaw.

Full lips, pressed into a tight, firm line—but the bottom one? That one hints at sin. I want to bite it.Right there.

His nose could make a Greek sculpture jealous.

He’s completelydevourable—but what truly takes my breath away are his blue eyes.

I’ve never seen eyes like that. They’re the exact shade of Cape Cod’s ocean—somewhere between green and blue. It’s like the sea is trapped inside his gaze.

But not a calm sea. Nothing like a bay.

There’s tension in the way he holds himself, but his eyes scream storm. Tempest. It feels like he’s pulling me into them just by looking at me.

It’s not an invitation—it’s a command. And at the same time, I sense he doesn’t want to look at me either. As if he’s justas tempted to turn away, but something invisible, something between us, is holding him there.

His beauty is almost indecent, sexy, and I can’t stop staring.

I couldn’t say whether I’ve been looking for seconds or entire minutes. The sound of the waves is a faint blur. Because right now, he is the only thing that exists.

Lazarus

CHAPTER NINE

Minutes before

I’m notthe type of man who runs from problems. Usually, I laugh at them—and dare them to steal more than a single thought from me.

The indifference I feel toward most of the world and the people in it isn’t calculated. It’s real. Natural.

Controversial situations, family fights, and my mother’s usual tantrums don’t shake me.

Walking into surgery with a ninety-nine percent chance of failure doesn’t throw me off-balance either.

And yet—for the first time I can remember—I needed to step away from everything after yesterday.

It has nothing to do with the melodramatic show Jodie put on. I’m not familiar with empathy. The only thing I felt for her was a hint of pity—and not the merciful kind, more like contempt.

I know she’s not suffering because the relationship ended. She’s just pissed her plans didn’t work out.

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