Page 6 of Scarlet Mark
All right, darling minx. Let’s see how well you do…
“I’m here on business. You?” I phrased that last word as a question when, really, it was part of my answer.Shewas my business.
Amara smiled. “It’s not a very exciting story. I just finished my undergraduate degree and wanted to take a year off before attending law school. This opportunity came up and here I am.”
“Here you are,” I agreed, amused by her cover story. She’d gone to great lengths to craftScarlet Rosalind’sbackground, even having a diploma created with the famous Yale imprint. I’d found records of it all and was arguably impressed by the lengths she went to, to solidify this new con. Particularly because she’d been working on it for the last six months, right beneath the senator’s nose.
I sipped my scotch while holding her bold gaze, my other hand hanging limply against the seat cushion beside her knee.
“What type of work do you do, Mr. Bedivere?” she asked, performing her part remarkably well. Because I knew she didn’t really care. But her interest was expected, if not required, to maintain her disguise.
“Does my record in the system not answer that question?”
“It says you’re the heir to a family fortune, that you occasionally visit the New York City and San Francisco locations, and your record is clean. But it’s otherwise vague, and you said you’re here on business.”
“Indeed I did.” I took another swallow of the liquor, enjoying the way it burned my throat on the way down. Then I set it off to the side, leaving my hands free. “Perhaps I’m here on family business.”
She added her glass to the table beside mine and placed her palms on my shoulders. “Somehow I doubt that.” She gazed at me through thick, gorgeous lashes, her irises lacking the fear that my victims typically held for me. Of course, she didn’t know a damn thing about me. Not really.
The only reason I provided my true identity forDiavolo Rojowas because it suited the masquerade of my everyday life. No one outside of my small circle of friends knew of my true profession. Not even my family knew. Well, apart from my brother. He knew. He just chose not to admit it.
“What do you think I do?” I asked, lightly drawing my finger along the top of her lace stockings. “What career would you give me?”
“How did your family amass their wealth?” she countered. Expertly replying to a question with a question. Definitely a professional con artist. Unfortunately for her, she was playing with the master of deception.
And I knew exactly how to trap her.
“Buying run-down corporations and organizations, repurposing them, and reselling them to the highest bidder.” I shrugged. “It’s not all that fascinating, but that’s where my family amassed their wealth. A few property holdings, too, that provided decent return.”
“Do you work for them now?”
I laughed. “No. My older brother is the one being groomed to take over Bedivere Corp.” I led an entirely different life, one she would become intimately familiar with very, very soon. “And you, Scarlet? What are your hopes and dreams for the future?”
Goose bumps pebbled beneath the pads of my fingers as I drew them up and down her soft skin, from her hip to the top of her stockings, and back up again.
So delicate.
So fragile.
So easy to carve a blade into.
“I’m living in the now,” she murmured, her pupils dilating. “The right now.”
“You and me both.” I studied the plump curves of her mouth, the way her tongue darted out to lick them in a show of desire laced with nervousness. For all her bravado, she seemed to be unsure of how to proceed now. “Are you going to dance for me now, sweetheart?” I asked softly, slowly lifting my gaze back to hers. “Or are you desiring a negotiation?”
How far would she go? What would she ask of me? What would I allow us to do before I broke the news to her?
So many questions.
I adored them all, luxuriating in the stillness of the moment—that tender few minutes before attacking one’s prey. She was right where I wanted her, falling beautifully into my trap without any realization of how numbered her seconds truly were. It made me a very bad man. And I would never apologize for it.
“You’re…” She swallowed, her nails digging into the fabric clothing my shoulders. “This is my first time accepting an offer.”
I almost startled at her giving me the truth, then realized her intended purpose—to twist the game. To feign an innocence a dominant male like me craved.
Such a clever, beautiful woman.
Picking up on all my cues apart from the one that mattered the most—my true intentions.
