Page 29 of Forbidden Bastard
From her bed she could see the white balcony outside and hear birds chirping nearby. The sun shone from blue skies and the ocean splashed against the shore.
This home was magical.
But so was Charles. No man had ever made every cell in her body sing out for him. She stretched. His kisses had made her secret spots tremble and the memory rushed hotly through her veins. Everything was perfect as she left the warmth of Charles’s naked body and the white cotton sheets that were softer than silk.
The morning sunshine called to her, so she pulled on his white t-shirt and opened the balcony door. This was how she’d imagined Romeo and Juliet back in Shakespeare's day. She just needed a few lounge chairs on the balcony to get lost in a book for hours.
For now she closed her eyes, imagined music, and hoped soon Charles would come, hold her and dance, right here. Why not?
The air around her slightly changed, goosebumps grew on her body, and she opened her eyes. A fraction of a second later she stared into his sexy brown eyes. He wore cotton pants and held out a cup of coffee for her.
Perfect. She accepted the brew, sipped, and it tasted like heaven. He motioned for her to come back inside and as he closed the balcony door, he asked, “Can I ask you a few questions?”
She took a seat at the small table in the room where he’d left some warm croissants. “I thought you knew everything about me.”
He kissed her cheek and sat beside her. “I didn’t run a background check as I just assumed whoever Cassidy sent as my match would be some anonymous person that would never matter to me. Then you turned me down so I hadn’t bothered.”
“I’d have run a check if I was you but then I don’t exactly trust my instincts.” He tugged his chair in as she finished one of the butter croissants. She reached for a second and nodded at him. “Go ahead. Ask away.”
He held his coffee in his palm and met her gaze. “When we met, you had just come from the hospital-”
“The bunny again?” she interrupted and her face felt hot. She stared at his knees that touched hers. “Yes, I'd been cheering up the cancer ward. I do this whenever I sell to a hospital as I’m on the volunteer list for the American Cancer Society. Even if they don’t buy from me, those children are battling something pretty heavy.”
His grin was sly as he brushed his hand against her bare thigh, sending awareness through her body. “Of course, building good will is always a smart business move. Did you go back?”
“Huh-uh. I never do, as no means no and I don’t want to be pushy.”
“Perhaps that was the mistake. You didn’t retarget.”
Right. That. Okay, if she told him--she sucked in her breath…yes? No? Yes, she’d tell him. Her old friends, Ashley and Jennifer, had laughed when she'd made the mistake of trusting them. “It’s part of my whole "help those less fortunate" and be grateful life lessons my guru told me I should do if I wanted to be more successful.”
His eyes widened and he sat straighter. “Guru?”
Well, at least he didn’t laugh. Heat coursed through her. “Life coach, really.”
He reached for her hand. “You have a life coach?”
“Yeah, though I never met the guy in person.” She swallowed. Not even her parents knew what she did first thing every morning, but she squared her shoulders and said, “I follow his videos pretty religiously. He uploads them on Monday for the week. Every morning I wake up and usually do a meditation of some kind before I start my day to help me focus. He’s always talking about using my own light to guide me and to not care what might happen to anyone else. I need to feed my soul. Today was an exception.”
“I see.” He patted her arm. “You’re serious?”
Her skin had pins and needles. This wasn’t good. She nodded and wished she didn’t tremble as she said, “Yes. It’s been a year now and I’ve calmed down, a lot.”
His half-smile grew and he sipped his coffee. “You keep surprising me with different aspects of yourself.”
Huh? She stared down at his muscular abs. Most men did not have those, which maybe was why other men hadn’t made her body ache in places she never had before. The heat in her cheeks stayed strong. “I’m not that interesting.”
She picked up her still-hot coffee, sipped, and the liquid hit her body just right.
The chef deserved thanks and probably a raise, not that she knew about the finances of this place.
Charles finished his coffee and settled his elbow on the table as if he wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere. “I absolutely disagree, but let’s move on. You run your grandfather’s import and export business, and I know you have medical equipment you’re stuck with in the warehouse, but your father’s name is listed as the president of the company. I was just curious…”
“That was a name-only situation that he'd held since my grandfather was alive.” She used her fingers to comb her slightly too curly to be considered straight, but way too straight to be actual curls, hair. “My parents believe in not necessarily working hard, but that they should have seven streams of income as a way to be wealthy.”
He tugged his ear and tilted his head. “I don’t understand?”
Fair. This wasn’t how most people thought. Her parents had read every self-help book on the planet as some sort of financial guide that might help them solve business problems. It was in implementation that they floundered, though their other friends were successful. “Well, they have a theory that money coming from different income streams is how you create wealth or something. It’s not about making decisions or working to them. I run the import and export business. They own a real estate firm but don’t actually do anything with the day-to-day running. And they own a fast-food joint, but again they don’t actually manage their investments which was why my grandfather didn’t trust them...”
