A Virgin To Redeem The Billionaire. Dani Collins
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else would you be here representing your family?” he taunted lightly. “You’re not a sacrificial lamb, are you?”
“No.” But she felt inordinately vulnerable. She had been thinking of him day and night, trying to hate him even as she had wished things had gone differently. Wished their kiss had been the beginning of something more.
That longing was still lodged in her throat with a sob of disappointment. At least now she understood why he was treating her with such disparagement.
This had to be a misunderstanding. Had to be.
And she was an independent sort. One who struck out on her own to get things done. One who would happily play envoy for her family, even if she found it uncomfortable to face down so much suspicion.
“Why don’t we take this discussion somewhere more private,” she suggested.
His eyes became narrow slits with a gleam of enigmatic obsidian. His smile was empty of humor as he drew his lips back against his teeth.
“That would be my pleasure.”
KAINE IGNORED THE disappointment that hit him as she more or less admitted to being here to keep him from taking stronger action against her family.
He shouldn’t be letting her under his skin. Aside from retaliating when someone tried to knock him down, he never allowed anyone to affect him on an emotional level, let alone a woman attempting to toy with him.
This turnaround from her innocent act when she’d arrived told him that’s exactly what this was: pure manipulation. Worse, when she had been protesting ignorance where her cousin’s behavior was concerned, she had nearly caused him to doubt his own sound judgment. He had found himself thinking maybe she really did just want to buy an earring for her grandmother.
As she had stepped away to make her call, he had actually allowed himself to imagine her coming back to him with a rational explanation, one that would allow him to believe in her, fool that he was. He had learned long ago that trusting people, particularly a woman he physically desired, resulted only in an empty wallet.
He sure as hell hadn’t intended to come to heel like a poodle on a leash, but another man had approached her. The possessiveness that had engulfed him in those seconds had been so intolerable, it propelled him across the room to stake a claim.
It was time to yank back control. He texted his driver as they exited the private rooms of the restaurant. When she veered toward the bar, he said, “We’ll go to my place.”
She faltered, then said, “I’m getting my bag. I haven’t checked into my hotel yet.”
Convenient. After she’d handed her ticket to the coat check, he picked up the small case and escorted her out. His car smoothly rolled to the curb and he opened the back door himself.
* * *
Kaine’s driver dropped them in front of a mirrored skyscraper with a lobby that led onto a restaurant.
Gisella glimpsed more than one starlet standing in line, but Kaine didn’t take her into that hot spot. He waved her into an elevator set back from the rest, one she quickly realized was his alone since his thumbprint made it whisk upward.
The darkened bay and the lights outlining the bridge came into view. Before she’d had a chance to process that, the windows went dark again. The elevator came to a stop, the doors opened and—
“Oh.” Glass walls offered more than 180 degrees of night sky and ocean. The sparkle of city and moonlight on the water, bobbing boat lights and stars against an inky sky drew her into the penthouse. The open-plan rooms were lit by a subtle glow in the baseboards and a single table lamp. He didn’t turn on any other lights.
A rational part of her warned this might be dangerous, coming to a strange man’s apartment. Things were contentious between them, but, “This is so beautiful.”
She wanted to see it in daylight, eat breakfast on that veranda protected by glass that would let in the sun but keep out the wind. She wasn’t a covetous person, but she rather wanted this.
He moved behind the wet bar and opened a bottle of wine. She felt his gaze on her across the football field that was his living room. The horseshoe sofa would seat twenty, the dining table equally as many. The kitchen seemed to be tucked around the far side of the dining area and she suspected the stairs over the bar led to his bedroom.
She glanced at the big screen. It looked as though it disappeared into the wall at the flick of a button. It didn’t have game controllers attached, which surprised her. He made a large chunk of his fortune in that arena.
“Do you host a lot of parties?” The place was built for entertaining, but something in his persona told her he kept his space private. He was such an infuriating man. She wanted to hate him for the accusations he kept throwing at her, but she was intrigued despite herself.
“You’re one of a handful of people who have been here since I moved in two years ago. The maid and doorman are my most frequent guests. My PA sometimes.”
“The inner sanctum,” she murmured, moving forward to stroke the buttery leather of the sofa. “I’m flattered.”
Was the earring here? She glanced around, wondering if it was in a safe behind that abstract painting in the dining room. He probably had an office upstairs.
“It’s in a safe-deposit box at my bank,” he said, reading her mind.
She crossed her arms, annoyed with herself for being so obvious.
“I brought you here for privacy. To discuss the terms of your compensation.”
“You keep accusing me of being willing to barter sex for favors. You know that says more about you than me, right?” She refused to gauge the distance to the elevator, tingling at speaking so frankly, but not with danger. It was the excitement of dropping a layer of civility. Like peeling off her cloak and letting him see what she wore beneath.
“I don’t pay for sex,” he drawled, moving around the horseshoe of the sofa to bring her wine.
“No?” she scoffed gently, taking it and speaking into the aromas of honey and peach before flavors of oak and vanilla dampened her tongue. “You don’t bring lovers on vacation? Buy them a parting gift of a bracelet or necklace?” She didn’t take such commissions on purpose, but knew some of her pieces had been bought by older men who had given them to women who weren’t their wives.
“Inviting someone to join me on my yacht is hardly paying for her company.” He picked up a tendril of her hair and drew it across the front of her neck like a collar. “And my lovers tend to be women with careers and incomes that make a gift of a necklace exactly that. A gift. A token of affection.”
She swallowed, hyperaware that her motion caused the edge of his thumb to brush her skin. She drew back enough to release her hair from his touch, disturbed by the thought of his having lovers. Rich, powerful lovers for whom he had affection. She probably knew some of them.
“I’m not clear on what you need compensation for. And why you think it’s up to me to provide it.”
“Your cousin sold me a pile of useless rocks, not the rare metals he led me to expect would fuel the next generation of my electronic devices.” His muted fury was contained, but instant. Volatile and very real. A glimpse into the volcano vent.
Her fingers tightened on the stem of her glass and she stood very still. “Surely you know that mining is as much a gamble as any slot machine in Vegas.”
“The Barsi name on the original test results carried a lot of weight. Heavy hitters signed on. When the mine didn’t pay out as advertised, the investors insisted on fresh samples. They were duds. I’ve had to lock up much of my operating capital in an escrow account