Page 7 of Ruthless Financier
She tapped her fingers on her cheek. In time I’d learn that tell.
“And when we’re not in bed?” she asked.
Teasing her was fun. I smiled as I said, “Sex can be anywhere, anytime, we want.”
She folded her hands under her chest as she asked, “And when that’s not happening?”
I shrugged. “You can work for me or run your own company. Your time is yours. But honestly, you working independently only enhances my choice.”
“You didn’t even know who I was when you asked me to marry you.” She stood and walked to the wall of windows. I followed, and through the window we could see the courtyard designed like Venice. “Why did you pick me?”
I pressed next to her, but didn’t force anything. I said, “I wanted to see your lacy black bra and thigh highs. And I could tell you were interested in your job and wouldn’t forget your work even for a second.”
She sucked in her lips and asked, “Seriously?”
I turned toward her and studied her profile. Underneath her fitted suit, I was sure her shoulders were slender. Her honesty so far was refreshing—I’d not had a lot of women in my life who kept a level head. So I was the same. “I’ve been studying women for weeks now, looking for someone who will fit my exact standards. You check every box I need.”
“I’m into work because I have my own goals.”
“I like that.”
She faced me, and though she was shorter, she stood tall as she asked, “So you want me, and you didn’t want others?”
I traced her arm and wondered if she too had goosebumps. “Yes. I want to fuck you. That had to be one consideration.”
“And the others?”
There it was. She stayed on course. In a way, she was like my mom. My mother was clear about what she wanted, and she always said a woman who spoke her mind was exactly what she wanted for me.
And meeting Indigo was almost like finding a woman both of us might approve.
If Indigo was on my team, we’d be unstoppable. But I only said, “She needed to be respectable and smart.”
She smirked like she didn’t believe me. “And you knew I was smart from across the lobby?”
“I figured that out from talking to you,” I said, and came closer. Every cell in my body wanted to kiss her and keep her around, even though we’d just be signing a business contract. “So what can I do for you to seal this deal?”
She put her hand out to shake. “I’ll do it.”
I took her hand, but asked, “Why?”
“I’m the kind of woman most people hate. I’m driven and determined.” She said this like it explained her decision. She then took her hand back and said, “Twenty-five million gets me my business—without a retired founder who gets a check for my work.” Slowly, she breathed out, and then said, “But I need assurance ours is a business deal, not to be confused with love and romance.”
“Yes.”
Love and romance had never been on my radar anyhow.
My father had let my mother die poor and left me to bury her on my own, when he could have stepped in. But he’d chosen to subject her to years of punishment because she hadn’t loved him. The courts had forced him to accept me, afterwards. Letting his son go into the foster care system would make him appear bad to his board. But he hadn’t bothered to do more than put a roof over my head for two years, when I moved out officially.
Now it was his turn to endure what he’d done to Mom.
If he’d been a decent human being, he’d have never lifted a finger against my mom. The memory of him turning his face away from me when I walked through his door had stuck. He’d never tried to be a father to me when I was forced into his home at sixteen, when I already towered over him.
And if he tried to make amends now, he was way too late.
Soon he’d be penniless, and I’d finally be able to sleep soundly.
Indigo said, “Oh, and you’ll pay for every dime of the wedding.”
