“Do you have anyone else who can do the work?”
“I’ll find someone.” But that could be hard. Dominic has a particular skill, and as far as I’m aware, it is unmatched. I’ll have to look harder.
Christian raises his cup to drink. “Let me know if I can help.”
The comment is so offhand and casual that it throws me off for a few seconds. “How could you help?”
“You said the job was in the travel sector.”
“I did.”
“A lot of my holdings were in travel, finance, and the green sector.”
“Interesting mix.”
“They were my favorites so that’s what I pursued. I’d be happy to offer any market guidance if that’s what you need.”
It’s exactly what I need. “Really?”
“I’d love to.”
I’m eager to toss out details right now, but I don’t know that I should accept, because accepting would create more obligations, and obligations have a way of confusing matters of the heart and libido. I also don’t want to entwine him in my business life.
“I can’t take advantage of you like that,” I say, though admittedly I’m intrigued by his offer.
We chat more about his background, and I’m fascinated to learn of the work he did, the deals he engineered, and the investments he made.
“Think about it. I’m not claiming to be the expert Domi-dick was,” he says, and I laugh.
“I do appreciate the offer, but I don’t think we should mix business and pleasure. Do you?” I ask, since it’s not that I don’t want his help—it’s that I don’t want us to confuse what we are.
“If pleasure’s on the table, I like to mix it straight up with more pleasure.”
“Of course you do.”
“But keep it in mind, okay?”
“Sure,” I say, though I know it’s best if we don’t commingle the two worlds. If one person is getting more from an arrangement, it becomes uneven, and starts to teeter under the weight.
“I’d be getting something out of it too. I enjoy that kind of work. You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me—unless you wanted to in the bedroom. In which case, you have an open invitation to take advantage of me in any way.”
I laugh. “Your business services and your bedroom services are up for grabs?”
“It’s all up for grabs. But for the record, I would help you because I like you. Not because of any tit for tat arrangement. Though I like your tits.”
“I like your tats . . .” I say, trailing off, then staring quizzically, moving away from the business offer. “Do you have any?”
“Don’t you know the answer to that? You took my photo, little mermaid.”
I quirk up my lips, feeling emboldened, my resolve turning into sexy strength. “I looked at your photos the other night, as a matter of fact.”
“My full monty?” He raises an eyebrow playfully, as the background music shifts to Ravel, reminding me again of the belle epoque feel of this salon.
“Yes.”
“Did you like what you saw?”
“I did.”
“Did it make you want to see more?” He shifts closer, runs his finger along my shoulder, over my collarbone.
I shiver, and my bones warm. “Perhaps it did make me want to see more.”
He drops his mouth to my neck, kisses me lightly, then nips my jaw. “I like that you’re starting to see the light about getting under me and climbing over me. But I don’t want to just fuck your body.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to know who you are, Elise.”
“Why?” I tense. I don’t want closeness. I’m not keen on emotional intimacy.
“Because then I can give you even more pleasure.”
“Don’t ask for my heart. It’s not for sale.” I cross my hands over my chest, as if protecting that precious organ.
He brushes his mouth against my neck again, his tongue flicking against my skin, licking me. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t even try to rent your heart.” He nips my earlobe, and I drop my hands. “But I want to know your mind. I have no interest in sex being only physical. I want to know who you are and why you’re here.” He pulls back, his cool eyes locked with mine. “Why is it that you like this little Friday-night arrangement?”
I draw a deep breath and resolve to be honest with him. To clearly delineate the boundaries of my heart. They are uncrossable, and they are guarded with a wall so high he ought to at least know why he can’t scale it.
