Page 29 of Blurred Lines

“Did you mention dinner?” Lauren asked.

“What do you like to eat?”

Unconsciously, she glanced toward his cock, and he caught himself smiling. She didn’t even realise she’d done it.

“I have a meal plan,” she said almost apologetically. “Maybe sushi?”

“I’ll make a reservation. We can swing by your place and pick up whatever you need on the way.”

Mario’s fate wasn’t the only decision Cris needed to make. He still hadn’t made up his mind whether to take Lauren to his apartment or his house. With any other woman, the answer would have been a no-brainer—the house was firmly off-limits. But this was Lauren. She was different. Firstly, there was the incredible chemistry between them, and secondly, Cris had researched her after the initial wallet incident. Lauren Marie Rossi was the best friend and former roommate of Violet Miller, the new darling of Hollywood. She waitressed three nights a week at a private members’ club and spent the rest of her time writing novels. She chose her friends carefully—they included several other movie stars—and she was fiercely protective of Violet. Nothing in her background suggested she was a gold digger.

Should Cris take a chance?

“I don’t need much for one night,” she said. “Do you have a spare towel?”

“I have spare towels. And don’t worry about clothes because I’m planning to keep you naked.”

Fuck it, he was taking her to the house. It had a pool and a sauna, and judging by the notes her prick of an ex had helpfully posted on the internet, Lauren had plans for those.

She actually offered to split the fucking check.

Cris turned her down, of course, but damn, she had no idea. He’d researched her, but she hadn’t dug into his background. She got her first clue when he turned his Audi into the entrance of the Canyon Hills Estate, and the guard saluted before opening the gate.

“What are we doing here? I thought you said you had an apartment downtown? Are we visiting someone?”

“I also have an apartment downtown.”

He could practically hear the cogs turning in her head as he put the car in gear and began driving past multimillion-dollar properties hidden behind high walls and perfectly trimmed trees. If he’d had to buy an expensive home, Canyon Hills wouldn’t have been his first choice of location, but the place had grown on him. At least it was quiet. And he’d spent enough time sharing a tent in the desert with dozens of other men to appreciate having his own space.

“You live here?”

“I inherited my father’s estate when he died.”

Lauren’s hand moved to squeeze his. “You lost your father? Cristian, I’m so sorry.”

“We weren’t close.”

His father hadn’t been close to anyone or anything except work and—weirdly—Claudia, the Persian cat. Cris’s mother had been the second of his three wives and the only one to bear him any children. None of the marriages lasted longer than a year, and all had come with hefty prenups. While Matt Garza had provided for Cris financially as he grew up, emotionally, he’d stayed distant, and their physical interactions had been few and far between. Once or twice a year, when Cris’s mom wanted to go on vacation with whatever boyfriend she happened to be seeing at the time, Cris had been left at the house in Canyon Hills, where he’d been cared for by the housekeeper until it was time to go home.

“Still, I’m sorry. Was it recent?”

“Three years ago.” Right after Cris’s divorce was finalised. Tessie had turned green when she found out, one of the few satisfying moments in the year from hell. “He was a property developer.”

Canyon Hills had been his brainchild, a project he’d poured his time and energy into, and Cris had to concede that the man had been good at his job. It was a beautiful place to live. The walking trails, the golf course, the secluded beach… A good place to raise a family.

A family.

After what happened with Tessie, Cris had almost given up on the idea, but now when he looked at Lauren… Too much, too soon, but maybe someday?

He still owned six properties in Canyon Hills and dozens more elsewhere. A management company looked after those while Cris focused on Planet Health. That was his brainchild. It was also the only time he’d asked his father for help. No bank had wanted to lend him the start-up funds, so Cris had convinced his father to sell him Planet Health’s first home in a private arrangement. Matt—he’d always been Matt, never Dad—insisted on advantageous terms but refused a share in the fledgling business, not out of the goodness of his heart but because he didn’t want to be associated with a failure. Cris’s greatest accomplishment was being able to stick two financial statements up at the old man before he died—a positive P&L account and a healthy balance sheet. Matt Garza had respected nothing but money.

But that was history. The company was maturing now, and Cris had a good team in place. Another glance at Lauren. He could take time off if he needed to. Give his girl the attention she deserved.

“What about your mom?” Lauren asked. “Does she live around here?”

“She’s still in San Pedro.”

With her fourth husband, an insufferable idiot named Randolph Carter the Third. Cris visited for the holidays when he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse not to, but avoided them the rest of the time. Life was too short to spend with the wrong kind of people. You only got to live each moment once. Every second was valuable.

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