Page 15 of Hotshot Mogul

“Right. If you want to swim, there’s a shop near the beach that sells beach stuff.”

She pulled an impressive wad of cash out of her purse and counted it. My stomach knotted. If she flashed that wad on the Chicago subway, or at a casino… “Anneliese. Don’t do that around here. Don’t count your money so people will see.”

She dipped her chin down and pulled her knees together. Shit, I embarrassed her. I softened my tone. “Thugs, bad people, could take it away from you, or hurt you to get it. I think you come from a place where that didn’t happen. Take out only a little bit and keep it separate when you pay for stuff. Promise me.”

“Yes, of course. Grenmann and Isolde said that also, many times.”

Grenmann and Isolde? What odd names. “Are they your bosses?”

“They are guiding me.”

“I’m glad you showed me, though. Now I know you have it, we can make sure we keep it locked up when we go swimming. When you pay, just take out a small bit.”

“Gotcha.”

She had no idea. “Where did you pick up ‘gotcha’?”

“Callie says it a lot.”

I gathered up our stuff. She helped and insisted on dragging the wheeled cooler through the sand. She was a fast language learner like my college roommate, Serge. Why hadn’t I thought of him before?

I told her about him as we trudged to the Jeep. He was from Bosnia. He watched TV, old sitcoms with the English captions turned on and kids’ shows to get the hang of American English.

“Callie said that I’m a fast learner, too. But I only have three more days.”

My frustration exploded. On cue, the wind gusted, kicking up sand into my eyes. I didn’t want her to leave. I shouted over the wind, “You keep saying that. Why do you have to leave? Is it a visa thing?”

She nodded, scraping her hand through her hair.

“Serge went through that red tape when he wanted to stay. I helped him. I could help you.”

She looked past me, over the dunes, like she was searching for something. “I need to go back where I came from.”

But I needed her. Her eyes looked purple against this crazy vivid blue sky. She pressed her beautiful lips together, then turned her determined gaze on me. “Bruce, I’m here to do this job. I must focus on that.”

I needed to calm the hell down, not demand answers she wasn’t ready to give. I jabbed my fingers across my scalp, then unlocked the Jeep. I tipped my head back and stared at her, taking in every detail of the strongest, most determined woman I’ve ever met. A bead of sweat rolled down the valley of her sweet little tits. I wanted to catch it with my tongue. Her taut nipples were saluting me.

I affected her, too. I stowed the stuff inside the Jeep, then picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Let’s go swimming and cool off. Sound good?”

“Okay.”

Thank fuck.

CHAPTER FIVE

Anneliese

Bruce looked so happy that I’d agreed to go swimming. We stood outside the Jeep. I moved my hand that he was holding to touch his square jawline. It bristled with whiskers.

This was different from Nigan’s smooth jaw and Étienne’s matted beard. Bruce had hair on his chest, too—also different from Nigan. I wanted to run my fingers through it and tease his flat male nipples with my teeth.

I met his gaze. I saw tenderness, like so long ago. My knees felt like water. He’d looked at me like that just before he was slaughtered.

Isolde said to avoid attachments. Had she ever craved another’s touch the way I craved Nigan’s body and now Bruce’s? I’d loved Nigan for such a sweet, short time. But it was long enough for me to know I could never again be with Étienne after knowing Nigan. We are different now—except for my wanting him. That is the same.

“Anneliese? Where did you go, sweetheart? You were lost in thought.”

I pulled my hand away gently and went for the truth, or some of it. “Before, I knew a man, loved a man. He died—was killed. I’m trying to decide if you are like him.”

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