Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
I realize I’ve wandered off from Marcus. I just had to go to the edge of the building and look over. There’s something about a city view that always awes me. You only get it from really tall buildings like this one.
Marcus appears beside me with a glass of white wine in his hand. He gives it to me, not asking if it is what I want. I could be offended by his assumption, but I’m not in the mood for arguing right now.
“So this is your world. Everything and everyone at your feet. Like an emperor, only better, really.”
“It is a good life,” he says, in what must be an incredible understatement.
“It’s a life almost nobody will ever live,” I muse. “A life so exclusive, there’s probably only a handful of people who know enough to understand it. Is it lonely?”
“What a question,” he says. “You do have a talent for blunt inquiries, Charlie.”
“Maybe.” I smile, sipping my wine. It’s delicious. Or maybe it tastes like paint stripper. All wine tastes pretty much the same to me. “Mmm,” I say. “Delicious.”
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying that,” he says, sweeping the glass away from me. “No need to fake pleasure with me.”
Another one of those very hot flushes rushes through me. There is intimacy in every one of his words, and in the way he is looking at me. A light wind ruffles my hair and plays with his dark mane. He really is an incredibly handsome man, and I cannot believe I have him all to myself up here.
“Thank you so much for agreeing to keep talking to me,” I say, instantly awkward. “I know the interview today was a little…”
“I agreed to take you out for a drink,” he says. “I will have to find a beverage that will suit your tastes. What would you prefer? Scotch? Bourbon? Chocolate milk?”
He’s teasing me.
“We’re not going to just sit and drink in silence, are we?” I ask as I follow him back toward the bar. I assume this is usually tended by a third party, but tonight Marcus plays bartender.
“Something sweet for you, I think,” he says, reaching for a bottle of Kahlua. “Are you able to tolerate lactose?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He is concocting something with sure hands. I bet he knows more drinks than I’ve had hot dinners. He’s like a walking encyclopedia of suaveness.
“Are you intending on asking me more questions about potential crimes I might or might not have committed?” He flickers a wink at me.
“No.” I smile. “I’m sorry about all that. I wanted to follow up on some wild rumors, but it’s obvious you could never be that kind of criminal.”
“Is it,” he says. There’s a stillness about him now.
“Yes. You’re far too busy to be doing anything that interesting. Business is about managing spreadsheets, predictions, shorts, longs. Money. Mathematics.” I give a little shrug. “I suppose crime could be similar, but it would be of the boring, white-collar variety that people don’t really get all that excited about, and you’ve no need to commit white collar crime. You’re more profitable than any deity one might care to mention.”
In spite of all of the compliments in that sandwich, he sticks on the part in the middle.
“Are you calling me boring, Miss Crown?”
“Of course not,” I say, though obviously, I very much am. It’s probably not the brightest idea to try to get a rise out of a man like this. I risk offending him and having him stalk off without another word to me. But I want to get under his skin a little. He certainly got under mine without even trying.
He gives me a very stern stare, but says nothing. Silence stretches between us, and I start to feel that this could go badly. So, I decide to offer him something of my own impression, perhaps tempt him out on a different limb.
“I can’t get the painting in your office out of my mind,” I confess. “Not very many people would have an image like that on display. It almost had what I might call, if I were to be so bold, a kinky context.”
He smiles broadly, his energy shifting in a moment. “It absolutely does.”
“So you’re displaying a very private part of yourself somewhat publicly?”
“It is the sort of thing that calls to those who recognize it. In other words, it only has meaning to people who think it has meaning.”
“You’re saying I had some kind of reaction to it because I’m also into whips and chains and collars?” I try not to laugh as I say that. “I’ve never been aware of such an interest.”
That’s a diplomatic way of saying ‘I think it’s weird as hell’. I don’t see the appeal. But then again, I do see the appeal of being able to be intimate with Marcus. I imagine that he could get women to do absolutely anything he asked. And he wouldn’t be the first powerful man with some sordid kinks.