I studied Charlotte as she sat on the leather couch in the bookstore office. I was behind the desk, my leg jumping with adrenaline. She was fucking beautiful. Even with the blood spattering her dress and neck and the biggest bruise blossoming on her cheek. I needed to get laid if a beat up bird like this could get me hard. And I was a rock.
“You got a story?”
“No.”
“Everyone’s got a story.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asked softly. “What’s yours?”
Using every ounce of sarcasm in my body, I shrugged. “I’m a fucking fallen angel. Used to be a Roman god, or so I tricked people into believing. Now I’m just a lowly criminal.”
She jerked her head up. “Liar. Don’t make fun.”
I spread my hands. “Just a gangster, baby-doll.”
She swallowed. “I’m from a farm in Nebraska.”
“Why’d you come here?” I asked when she said nothing else.
“My father’s sick….” she trailed off and shook her head. “There was no other choice.”
“You didn’t come here to get raped,” I told her. She blushed and felt her nose, which had started purpling. “You didn’t even come here to waitress. So why Chicago? You think you could make it big here? You an actress or something?”
“No.”
“Why not stay in your town then?”
She kept staring at her dress, the green spangles contrasting perfectly with her hair. Wait, when did I get to be interested in women’s fashion? Fuck, the rag hung on her and half the spangles were gone. The feather in her hair was limp and stringy. If she’d worn any makeup, it was long gone.
“My father mortgaged the farm,” she whispered. “There was a banker….”
Didn’t need to say more. “I’m sure that banker was more than happy to rip up that note if you’d marry him or at least be his main squeeze.”
“Something like that,” she answered, her cheeks stained bright red.
“How much do you need?”
Her head jerked up. “What?”
I took a key from my pocket and unlocked the middle drawer. I pulled it open while repeating my question. “How much do you need?”
“A lot,” she said with narrowed eyes.
There was a pile of bank notes in the drawer and I flicked through them with my thumb. A quick guess was five thousand dollars in that drawer. How much did you mortgage a farm for?
She was up and off the couch and slapping her hand on the desk. “Look, I’m not here to be your whore, even if you did save me from that lout.” She looked down and saw the pile of money. “Where did you get that?”
“Gangster, remember?”
“You can’t throw money at this and make it better.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t know me,” she said exasperated.
“So?”
“So you can’t give me money to save my family’s farm. If that’s what you’re thinking.”
“You got a younger sister?” I asked suddenly.
She paled and took a step back.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. How much time did that banker give you out here before he takes your sister instead of you?” I yanked the notes out and slammed the drawer. “Ask any of my guys, Charlotte, we use our money to help people who need it. You can keep working here and pay off the debt. I promise I’m a helluva better person to owe money to than some crooked banker.”
“I-I….”
“Yeah, don’t know what to say, do you?” I leaned over the desk and thrust my face at her. “Your idea to come to the big city and make money just changed. You got your money, however much it is, all you gotta do is work until I say you’ve paid it back.”
She gulped. “How-how long…?”
“However long I say.”
She stepped back again and finally dropped back onto the couch.
“Plus, this shit started something with your boss, you know that, right?”
Now the blush that had been so fucking sexy turned her cheeks as bright as a tomato. She nodded.
“Want to tell me what’s going on there?”
She shook her head, not denying an answer, just in confusion. “I’m not sure. He said to get some men under my belt.”
“Yeah, makes sense for a gem like Capone.” I softened my voice and sighed. “How much, Charlotte?”
Her blue eyes were glassy, dazed. “Three thousand.”
“There’s no way you were gonna make that kinda bread here.”
“I had to try.”
Her broken answer twisted in my gut. I could see the love in her eyes for her family. The fight in her to make all this better for them. But shit wasn’t going to go down like she thought it would.
“We’ll wire the money in the morning.”
She looked at me. “I won’t have sex with you.”
“Glad you’re honest about that. But give me a chance, would you? I clean up nice.”
I could smell the anxiety she exuded.
I decided to take pity on her. I quelled a sigh and got up. I sat next to her on the couch and touched a finger to her damaged cheek. “Baby-doll, if you want to have sex with me, it’ll be because you want it, not because I’m giving you three thousand dollars. I’ll try to turn on the charm—”
She rolled her eyes. I didn’t think she could help it. Her body was wounded but not her spirit. Thank God.
“But I gotta say, I’ve got a lot going for me. Look at this mug,” I continued, pointing to my face. “How can you say no to this?”
“Easy,” she teased back and I saw a flash of the young girl she used to be. Before she came East. A smile flirted across her face, then faded. “You’re sure about the money?”
“Sure as shit.”
“No, seriously, because I—”
“I make money hand over fist, baby-doll. I couldn’t spend it all if I tried. We’ll wire it in the morning. All right?”
One second she was sitting there, huddled in on herself. The next she’d flung herself at me, her arms encircling my neck and her body plastered to mine. She smelled like lemon and cake. Her skin was soft on my cheek and her breasts pressed against my chest.
My bastard cock ached at the feel of her. Sure she was pretty, maybe even beautiful once the swelling and bruising went away. But I couldn’t afford to take this little virgin. My sins were many and damning. No need to damn her, too.
But she squeezed me close until my arms went around her and I found myself hugging her back. Just a quick turn and my nose nuzzled her cheek. She didn’t notice. So I inhaled sharply, the scent of this woman. This girl, really. Inhaled her and held her scent in.
Fuck if that didn’t just screw me over.