Page 11 of Room Nine: For Their Eyes Only

I stare at the message and consider logging off. It’s not the first one I’ve received today. After Andrei confirmed his appointment, I disabled the option for anyone to book after 8:00. He wants to apologize for disappearing for a day, but swore he was unable to book yesterday. That was entirely my doing. I needed time to analyze the unfamiliar emotions warping my brain.

Besides, I’m exhausted. Business is booming and wearing me out.

I should take a break from work and cool these flirtations before they get out of hand. I can’t fall for strangers. No one is ever what they appear to be online, and I know better than anyone that these guys are almost always married.

It’s a recipe for disaster, but these justifiable concerns do nothing to deter me. There’s something about them. Something different I want, need, and can’t do without. Call it intuition or curiosity, but a nervous tingle in the pit of my stomach makes me hit the Reply button.

PinkysBedroom: I’m seeing your brother at 7. But I have an opening at 8:30.

I tap the Send button and wait for him to answer. I can’t let fear of attachment get in the way of doing my job. My rent won’t pay itself, and hell will freeze over before I tap into my trust fund. That’s a surefire way to get my dad and his bully soldiers on the first plane to New Orleans to drag me home.

VB731: I snagged that spot and I can’t wait to see you, little girl.

Butterflies flutter. My heart pounds. His pet name thrills me, and I envision another night with another dominant man who wants me to call him Daddy.

Maybe I’ve uncovered my kink.

Chapter8

"Hey, sweetheart. How is Saturday treating you?" I drop my voice an octave and let the words roll off my tongue like honey. I’m not sure it sounds natural, but I try my best to appear smooth. I feel like an amateur, but I really want her to like me.

“Hi, Daddy." Vivienne chews her lips, batting her lashes as she purrs. "Saturday just got better now that you’re here.” She appears on the screen and steals the breath straight from my lungs.

I clench my jaw to keep it from falling to the floor and stare helplessly at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. For a moment, I consider keeping her all to myself, but the two grown men hovering in my periphery guarantee there’s little hope of seeing that through.

“You’re a little adorable,” I gush like a teenage boy but hide my smile from my brothers loitering nearby. They don’t need to know this is far more than a job. I’m supposed to be the levelheaded one who takes care of business without letting emotions cloud my judgment.

And I’m failing miserably.

“How was your day? Did you think about me?” Vivi whispers sweetly, and I’m instantly aroused by the soft lilt of her voice. My heart skips a beat, and she pulls me into her world with nothing more than a shy smile.

She’s lying in bed, on her side, leaning on her elbow. The room is dimmed and bathed in rose-colored light to cast her in a flattering light or make her viewers believe they’re peeking into a teenage girl’s room. She succeeds flawlessly. I’m almost ashamed to stare.

I nod, lost in a daze, as my hungry eyes devour every inch visible through my small screen. “I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking of you all day, little girl.”

Behind me, out of sight from the camera, Viktor pours himself a glass of bourbon and glares at my computer, gesturing to our younger brother to pull up a chair in the camera’s blind spot.

They don’t need to supervise. I’m more than capable of getting the job done.

“What did you think about? Did my story give you nasty dreams?” Her wide eyes narrow with suspicion, then a slight smile touches her lips. She laughs, daring me to reveal my wicked thoughts.

“You don’t need to speak a word to give me filthy dreams. What you did, what we did, was enough to get me off for the rest of my life. But yes, your stories help.” I’m out of my element, but the faster I win her trust, the sooner I can pry the information we need. I’m not necessarily impatient. These things take time. But it's crucial to move this along before my feelings throw me off course.

Last time, I spent three fucking hours flirting, laughing, and jacking off, yet failed in my one objective to find out where the hell she lives. That’s why my brothers have chosen to stand by and observe. They suspect I’m too infatuated to trick her into revealing her location and plan to take over if I fail.

And maybe they’re right.

I’m better than this. I spent years making people talk, discovering their weaknesses, and manipulating them into providing valuable information they swore they’d keep to their graves. Pulling a con is serious work, and that’s precisely what this is. I need to convince Vivienne to provide information she’s fervently guarding and I’m beginning to doubt that day will come.

Perhaps, I’m dragging this out because I want to figure out why I count the minutes until I see her face again. My heart aches to touch her. My soul longs to hold her in my arms and make her feel safe. Her father is the most dangerous man I know, and he’s expecting us to bring her home. The sooner we learn her location, the faster we can hop on a plane and get her back to New York. When that happens, Vivienne Volkov officially becomes off-limits.

“Do you want to listen to another story? I have a few you haven’t heard before.” Vivi lifts a pink notebook covered with tiny daisies and flips through it, scanning the pages before she continues. “I have one about a knight and a damsel in distress. And an over-the-top spicy alien romance.”

“As much as I love your dirty books, I’d rather hear more about my girl,” I say, hoping she opens up about her life. I don't know if our playful banter is genuine or if she excels in stringing men along. It’s an excellent skill for someone in her position, and I can’t blame her for using it.

She’s better at it than me. Ever since she came into my life, I can hardly tie two sentences together.

Charisma comes with experience, and I've always been fortunate to attract the opposite sex without trying. That’s not a brag or flex. I don’t seek attention because I’m too busy growing our business to nurture a relationship worth building.

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