Give a Little (8 page)

“It won’t bite,” he said drily, mentally urging her to take a sip, wanting her to accept what he offered her, in all ways.

She set the martini on the table. “I came to talk to you.”

He masked his disappointment with a smile. “
Prego
, go ahead then.”

Scowling, she tapped her foot. “You’re good at this.”

“What?”

“
This
,” she replied with bite. “Seduction.”

Not good enough, because if he had his way, she’d be naked in his arms for the rest of his life. He drank his cocktail to buy him time to figure out what to say.

“I don’t want you,” she said, her words crisp.

Trying not to show his annoyance, he replied mildly, “The other night at Motorexpo would say otherwise.”

“That won’t happen again.” She crossed her arms. “I’ve decided you aren’t the sort of man I want.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she didn’t know what she wanted, but he knew better. Instead, he spread his arm across the back of the couch and pretended not to be affected by her words. “You don’t want a successful man with his own means?”

“I prefer men who’ve done more.”

“You prefer me,” he declared, knowing it to be true.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

She didn’t believe any of this, and he knew it. Still, it irritated him that she’d say it, and he wanted to irritate her, too. “If I touch you right now, you’ll be wet.”

Her beautiful eyes narrowed. “I’m not that easy.”

“Beatrice,
easy
is never a word to be ascribed to you.” He drank more of the martini, but it burned. He set it on the table in front of him. “Tell me why you wanted to see me.”

Her mouth worked for a few seconds, as if they couldn’t bear to say the words. “I need entrance to Stallon-E.”

Yes, he’d counted on that. “Why?”

“I’m having trouble connecting with them. Another company is making a move to invest, and I don’t want them to get an advantage.”

Fraser Unlimited. Of course Luca knew about it—he himself had asked Toland to put Beatrice off for the time being.

But he wasn’t going to admit that to her. She’d have his head if she knew what sort of game he had going. “Why does this company mean so much to you? You normally invest in technology, not automotive companies.”

Her brow furrowed. “You know that?”

He knew more about her than she realized. He said nothing, waiting to discover why his company was so important to her.

She stared at him silently for so long he didn’t think she was going to answer, but then she said, “Fraser and I have been rivals for a long time. He’s always trying to best me.”

“Then he’s a foolish man.” Luca gazed steadily at her. “Were you lovers?”

“I should take exception to that question,” she said with a frown. “But no, we never were.”

He nodded, relieved. “So you need my help.”

Beatrice gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

“You need
me
,” he repeated, leaning forward.

Glaring, she said, “I need you to help me gain entrance to the company.”

“What are you willing to give me for it?” he asked without preamble.

“What do you want?”

“One week, Beatrice,” he said, with instant inspiration. “I want one week of your time, exclusively for me. Nothing else. No work,” he said deliberately.

“That’s preposterous,” she exclaimed.

“It’s you who wants this favor.” He shrugged. “How much is it worth to you?”

Jaw set, she stood glaring at him.

Knowing her and what she’d try, he shook his head. “I won’t negotiate. I’ll introduce you to the men who run the company,
after
you spend one week with me, wherever and however I choose.”

She gaped at him like he’d grown a second head.

He smiled deprecatingly. “You aren’t the only one who knows how to close a deal.”

She began to pace. He watched the sway of her hips, clipped in her agitation. He knew how those hips felt cradling his, and how they writhed when he pressed into them.

If he were lucky, he’d feel all that again. Not tonight—she’d made tonight off limits, but soon. Maybe in Italy, if he were lucky.

He prayed he’d be lucky.

She stopped in front of him, hands on her hips. “This is blackmail.”

“I’m not coercing you to accepting the terms. You want what I have, and I gave you my price. You could walk away and go to another seller.”

“You know you’re the best seller there is.”

“Yes, I do know, which is why I have the bargaining power.” He flashed his most charming smile.

She glared at him, and he could practically hear her teeth grind.

He stood, picked up her coat, and handed it to her. “Pack a small bag. Tomorrow we go to Italy.”

“Tomorrow? To Stallon-E?”

“No. Like I said before, first my week, and then I’ll take you to Stallon-E.”

She bristled. “Are you insinuating that I won’t honor our deal otherwise?”

“No, I’m only selfish.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her stiff body close. Once she found out he was a principle in Stallon-E then she’d shy away from the company. His only course of action was to show her how good they could be together—both personally and in business.

To do that, he needed time for her to get to know him, away from her safety nets and those things she used as barriers. A week in Italy, in his home, surrounded only by him.

She looked him in the eye, her fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. “What do you mean?”

“I cannot wait to have you to myself. One week with me, for pleasure, no work, and then you’ll have everything you want, Beatrice. I promise.” He imagined her undressing him, and a surge of desire shot through his body. It took so little for her to turn him on. He lowered his head to her neck and bit her there, lightly, so she knew she was his no matter her denials. “What’s your answer? Will you go?”

She listed toward him. “No.”

“What?” He lifted his head, certain he’d heard wrong.

“I’m not going.” She disentangled herself from him. “It’s a mad proposition, Luca.”

“I don’t think it is.” Stepping away from her, he bent for her bag and handed it to her.

“You would, if you knew me.”

He stiffened with hurt. How could she say that? “After all these months, after every time you’ve come to my bed, you think I don’t know you?”

“That’s precisely what I think.” She reached for her scarf herself, wrapping it around her neck as she took her coat and strode out of his flat.

He waited until the door closed before he picked up the martini glass and threw it against the wall.

Rowdy stood in the middle of his new rehab center. It was completely empty, just painted after they’d finished construction. He’d had a couple rooms added: an office and a room for massage therapy. The space he’d rented had been a restaurant that had gone out of business, and he’d had the kitchen converted into a locker room with showers and a steam room.

All expensive as hell.

He’d been worried about how he was going to afford it, but now that Pop was becoming his silent partner, he thought he could even swing the workout equipment he wanted. He’d thought he’d have to scrimp there, but the old man had saved the day, the way he always had.

Feeling a rush of gratitude, he called his parents.

“Gary?” his dad said.

“Dad, you’ll be happy to know I was successfully auctioned off in Pop’s name.”

His dad whistled. “You didn’t really do it, did you?”

“Of course I did.” He’d have done it for Pop, regardless. “I raised more money than anyone auctioned in the history of the event.”

“Libby, Gary auctioned himself off at that cancer fundraiser thing, and he raised a buttload of money,” his dad said to the side. There was a pause, and then he came back on the line. “Your mom wants to know who’d spend that much on you.”

Rowdy grinned. “Tell her I love her, too.”

There was a rustle and then his mom was on the line. “Who is she, Gary?”

Because he liked to tease her, he said, “What makes you think it’s not a dude?”

“Gay men have better taste than that, sweetheart.” She managed to keep it straight for all of three seconds before she chuckled. But then she sobered again. “Her name, Gary Stimson. Now.”

“Jasmine Hayes,” he said instantly. Libby Stimson was tiny, but she was a force to be reckoned with, and when she demanded, he gave in. He was no dummy.

“She sounds exotic. Is she pretty?”

Pretty? Hell—Jasmine was the wet dream every boy had before he grew up and realized women like that didn’t really exist. Except he’d found one, and she seemed somehow interested.

But he couldn’t say that to his mom, so he said, “Actually, she’s a handful.”

“So she must be beautiful, because only beautiful women can afford to be handfuls.” His mom paused. “Do you like her?”

Way more than he should for someone he didn’t know, but he wasn’t giving his mom that kind of ammunition. “I only talked to her for a moment after she bought me for a date.”

“When’s your date?”

“Tonight.” He wiggled his toes, kind of excited for it. He thought about Pop’s bucket list and said, “I’m going to take her to a movie.”

“That sounds nice. Text me a picture, okay?”

“Okay, Mom,” he said, rolling his eyes. She’d just gotten an iPhone, and she was a texting fool. She’d found emojis a month ago, and now she barely even used words.

“I love you, sweetie. Here’s your dad.”

There was the noise of the phone passing, and then his dad was back on the line. “How are you doing with the list?”

“I’m taking my date to a movie tonight.” He thought about what he was supposed to do and shook his head. “I can’t believe Pop has me doing this.”

His dad chuckled. “He was something.”

“He really was.” Rowdy smiled softly. Pop would like Jasmine. He’d say she had spirit, and he’d approve that she was going to be his partner in crime.

“At this rate you’ll have them all done by the end of the month,” his dad said.

He nodded. “The sooner the better, because I could use the money to buy the equipment I want.”

“Text me to let me know how you’re doing.”

Grinning, Rowdy shook his head. “Since when do you text?”

“I may be an old dog, but I’ve still got new tricks up my sleeve, too.”

“Noted.” He laughed. “Thanks, Dad.”

Jasmine had texted him her address, so he drove over, double parked, and went to get her.

She took her sweet time coming to the door. She finally opened it, looking like a million bucks in boots and jeans that were strategically ripped.

He folded his arms. “You don’t seem eager for someone who’s paid a fortune to go out with me.”

“You’re late,” she said, glaring at him.

Crazy how he was instantly cheered by her being pissed. He grinned. He should probably tell her traffic had been a bitch, but instead he said, “I wanted to look pretty for you.”

She looked him up and down, making it clear by the way her little nose wrinkled that she found him lacking.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. “You ready to go out on the best date of your life?”

She looked down at their bodies, where they touched. Her brow was lined with confusion, but she managed to say, “I need my coat.”

A moment later, she walked out with him. He guided her to his car, his hand on the small of her back. He tried not to read too much into the fact that she was like Goldilocks, and that his hand felt
just right
where it was.

“I thought we could go to The Five Fields,” she said after he pulled into traffic.

“We’re going to the movies,” he said enthusiastically, hoping he was navigating in the right direction. London traffic was crazy, and then add that they drove on the wrong side of the street.

“What If I don’t want to go to a movie?”

“Then it’s the most expensive sucky date you’re ever going to go on.” He glanced at her, grinning. “How’s it going so far?”

She bit her lip, trying to frown.

“Come on.” He nudged her leg. “You find me charming.”

“They warned me against taking too many drugs when I was younger,” she retorted.

He laughed.

They arrived at the theater, parked the car, and strolled to the box office. They stood in front of the marquee and studied the available films.

Then he shrugged and took her hand. It didn’t matter which movie they saw—he was doing this for Pop. “Come on,” he said, heading to the pimply kid who was taking tickets at the entrance.

Jasmine put a hand on his arm. “We haven’t bought tickets.”

“I know.” He could almost hear his Pop laughing in glee. “Follow my lead.”

Heading toward the kid, he trusted that Jasmine would come along. When he got to the front, he pretended to pat down his pockets. “Hey there, I think I lost my wallet in the theater. Think I can go in there and look for it?”

The kid looked dubious. “No one turned one in.”

“Which is why I think it’s still in there.” He tried to look harmless, which was hard for a dude as broad as he was. “If I could go look, I’d really appreciate it.”

Jasmine snaked in next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. She batted her lashes at the boy. “Do you think you could let us look? We’ll be very quick, I promise. I’d love you forever,” she cooed.

The boy turned red and nodded, waving them past.

Rowdy waited till they’d turned a corner to whisper, “I think he swallowed his tongue. He’s gonna choke, and then you’re going to be responsible for a kid’s death.”

“He’ll survive,” Jasmine said. “Which movie are we seeing?”

“How does this room look?” Rowdy opened the first door on the right.

“Perfect.” She strode in and sat in front, in the third row.

“I like it,” Rowdy declared, making himself comfortable next to her. “Kind of like an IMAX experience.”

“Not that I mind being a rebel, but why didn’t we pay for tickets?” She studied him. “Are you broke?”

She didn’t sound like she’d mind if he was, and that made him frown. “I’m ticking items off my granddad’s bucket list for him.”

“Why isn’t he doing it himself?”

“Because he passed away.” Overcome by a surge of emotion, Rowdy looked ahead. “I found out that night I was out with my teammates.”