Page 7 of Liar & Champion
I kept scrolling, pausing at a stunning brunette. “She looks good.”
“Maybe you should go for one of the plainer ones. They’re said to have character. Who knows, it might get addictive.”
I gave him a look then frowned at the brunette’s details. So young. Twenty-three. Too young for my thirty. I preferred experienced women who didn’t have any expectations, not that I’d had time or interest in that recently. This wasn’t a one-night-stand I was engineering, but a civilized six months of dating. I’d have to get her to agree to it, six months without any other men, which should be simple enough with money and connections to make it palatable, as long as it was very clear up front that this would not be a life-sentence. Six months was long enough. Marriage was completely off the table. The idea of marrying one of the sex related to my mother was absolutely terrifying.
“What’s your preference?” Daniel asked, peeling a grapefruit. He’d stocked my fridge with such girly food. Yogurt, fruit, bread,applesauce. Where was the beer? Where were the pretzels? Not that I consumed alcohol outside of the occasional ‘having a good time’ photoshoot. My body was a machine that I kept in top condition, but sometimes I did go on vacation. I could be on a beach right now with some lazy drink, but no, I was enrolling in a college so I could meet the females and gauge their natures before committing. It was my mother’s alma mater and now her precious son was finally going, if only for a month. It made my skin crawl to make her happy, but it wouldn’t last long.
“For breakfast I like veggies and protein, maybe a shake with nut butters and berries. Good antioxidants in those.”
He tapped the tablet. “What kind of female is your type? Brunette, blonde, leggy, chesty?”
“Chesty? Please tell me you’ve never referred to a woman as ‘chesty’ before.”
“You didn’t answer my question so that I can help you narrow it down for you. I’m the lucky one who got to compile this dossier.”
“Lucky you. Trolling social media profiles of the Alabama debutantes must have been inspirational. Blondes.” I was thinking of the girl on the porch. She was just so bouncy, like a kitten all energy and zest. She would be fun in bed, not serious and dramatic, but fun like I hadn’t had in too long.
I glanced over at the door.
“Are you expecting someone?” he said drily, and then hit a folder that had them organized according to hair color. “You’ve got the natural blondes, the bottle blondes, and the in-between blondes, the ones who only lighten up a little.”
I stared at the psychopath and shook my head. He’d actually categorized the different kinds of blonde. “Wow. You’re disturbing.”
“You’re easily disturbed. You’re going to be late for your class if you don’t run. I imagine you want to take a shower before you start making an impression on the ladies.”
I rubbed his head, for some reason feeling like he needed some affection. He probably didn’t. He was bred to be a cold-blooded killer, like me, like my mother. “Such a good keeper. I hope my mother is paying you well.”
He flashed me a sharp smile that didn’t have the studied warmth he put on most of his smiles. “I am getting what I want.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Make sure you get everything she promises in writing with assets to back it up.” I gave the iPad one last swipe to get to the end. “Woah—” I stopped at a picture of the blond girl from this morning. She had a dazzling smile that reached her eyes that was absolutely impossible not to return with interest.
“I don’t recommend that one,” Daniel said, tapping the stats on the side. “Twenty-two, so definitely too young for you, and no record of past boyfriends.”
“If you don’t recommend her, why is she on the list?”
“She has an uncle with an old respectable name, but they’re not currently speaking.”
I snorted. “As if I care about her status.”
“She’s not experienced with men. She might be a virgin.”
I froze and then took a steadying breath. I had a notorious fear of virgins that was downright ridiculous, but phobias weren’t ever rational. “Then she’d clearly capable of being monogamous for six months.”
“You’re saying that you could be celibate?”
“Sure. I like women well enough, but the only thing I can’t live without is fighting.”
He held his breath for a moment before he nodded. “Sometimes I forget what you really are. You put on a goodshow, but you don’t have a reputation as someone who hurts women.”
“It’s not just a reputation. I don’t. I’ve never even hit my mother back. I’m not just a product of my genetics and upbringing, but I am a free soul. I choose the kind of man I am, and it’s not the kind who hurts the weak. I’ve worked hard to be someone that can look at in the mirror and not see his parents.” That was an understatement. It was particularly difficult considering how much I looked like my mother, down to the icy blue eyes.
“You’ve never given a woman bruises, even the kind of woman who likes it rough?”
I put my arm around his shoulder and squeezed a little too tight. “I don’t play to people’s psychological disorders. No one likes pain unless they’ve already been hurt too much. If you’re hurting women, I’m going to have to hurt you.”
He shoved off my arm. “Beating someone who doesn’t fight back gives me no pleasure. You don’t have time to brawl. You’ve got to get to class.” He held up a set of keys.
“What’s this?” I asked, taking them from him.
