Page 38 of Ms. Fortune

“Once upon a time, you offered me money to date you.” The smirk on her lips is growing, and the sarcasm thickens. “I’m curious what you would have paid.”

There it is. The minefield laid out before me. Shit. I will never be able to live down that one rambling mistake, will I? How interesting that her intoxicated mind goes to the topic, though. She must either be very bothered by it or intrigued. I’m afraid to ask which.

“I get the feeling that you’re a very stubborn person, is that correct?”

“Don’t change the subject.” She wags a finger at me. “But yes. I can be a little stubborn sometimes.”

“You’ve been chewing on that particular bone for a few weeks now.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Just making an observation.”

“Well then, answer the question, and maybe I can let it go.”

Giggling and carefree Normandy has jumped off the plane and been replaced by her super-serious alter ego. The change is jarring, but I suppose it can happen when alcohol is involved. You’d think I’d be used to this side of her by now, but it still intimidates me for some reason. I’ve never reacted like this to a woman, and it’s unsettling. And admitting that to myself is pretty crazy.

“Despite my countless apologies and retraction of said comment, you’ll recall that I said you could name your price.” I look her straight in the eye, meeting her challenge. If she wants to know, I’ve got no problem telling her how it is. I say what I mean and mean what I say. Any other way wastes time, and my time is precious.

“And if I said I would charge every penny you have?” The smirk turns into a devious smile, which looks damned sexy with her cheeks a little flush from the wine. Add that one to the fucking list.

“Then you would get every penny.”

Suspicion takes over, and she eyes me warily, unsure if I’m joking or not. “Seriously?”

“Yup. If that’s what I offered, and you accepted, it would be yours in a heartbeat.” I match her sly smile as I lean over and twist a lock of her hair around a finger. “I’m a man of my word.”

Of course, I know in my head she’s referring to cash, which not many people know; rich people don’t technically have a lot of. Most of our wealth is dumped into various assets and tax-safe havens. Cash on hand isn’t something I keep stuffed in the mattress. But she doesn’t know that. I know within myself I would still pay whatever price she demanded. That’s not a lie. It’s just a little bit more complicated than she most likely expects.

A burst of giggles erupts from her, and she covers her mouth, trying to contain her laughter. I don’t know what exactly is so funny, but I can’t help but laugh along with her. But the harder she laughs, the more I start thinking I’m the joke.

Once she gets control of her laughter, she sighs. “I’m sorry, you were just so damn serious it struck me as hilarious.” She places a hand on my thigh, squeezing lightly, and my mind pivots and dives straight into the gutter.

“I’m glad I amuse you,” I manage to say, trying desperately to refocus on the conversation. The wine is getting to my head, too, it seems. The combination of alcohol and Normandy’s presence is enough to intoxicate me.

“No, you’re taking it all wrong.” She sighs deeply again and returns to snuggle against me, wrapping my arm around herself and intertwining her fingers with mine. “I would never ask you for money.”

“I know.”

With her head on my shoulder, and her body secure in my arms, I know I did the right thing in coming to get her and Chelsie out of Vegas. I wouldn’t have been able to function knowing they were in danger. I still don’t know what type of threat surrounds them, how deep it goes, or how far it reaches. I can only hope that New York is far enough away to keep them safe.

Next, I need to work on locating Normandy’s mother, Joan, and getting her to the city to join her daughter. While I don’t think she’s in danger, I can’t guarantee it. Not that I can ensure anyone’s safety, really. If someone is determined to hurt someone else, they will find a way to do it. But if I can increase the odds of avoiding that by even the slightest margin, I will do whatever I need to achieve that.

This entire week apart from Normandy just about wrecked me. I barely made it through the annual meeting the day after the gala; I was such a fucking mess. It’s a miracle I still have a company after being so distracted with everything Normandy. Memories of her cold stare after our ‘perfectly fine’ time together warred with echoes of her warm body rocking into mine, leaving me aching to touch her again to prove I didn’t imagine the whole thing.

And now, holding her like this, it’s clear I didn’t imagine a damn thing. Patience with her is going to be critical. I still don’t know much about her dating history and why she’s not had a serious relationship. At least, nothing that I’ve been able to find. Like everything else about her, I suspect the answer to that question is more complicated than what’s showing on the surface.

She shifts next to me, making a slight contented noise in her throat, and I notice her breathing has become deep and steady. She’s fallen asleep in my arms. While it’s probably a consequence of the wine, I want to believe it’s because she feels safe with me.

Since learning of Calnetta and his evil intentions, protecting her and her family has become my only goal. I’ve never been this concerned about someone else's welfare before in my life. I don’t know how, but somewhere along the way in the last few weeks, Normandy Blake has become the center of my universe.

Chapter 26

DEAR AUGUST

NORMANDY

“Good morning,” a deep voice rumbles next to my ear, pulling me slowly out of a dream. I feel an object digging sharply into my cheek as I open my eyes. I realize that I’m lying with my head on Brandon’s chest on the couch, a button of his shirt leaving a small and round divot on my face. I must have been sleeping a little too soundly. My sleep has been filled with bad dreams lately, but it appears for the last few hours at least, I made it through without a nightmare.

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