“What?”
“I can’t take you inside the building with it. If you got caught I’d never forgive myself. Either that or let me carry it and take the blame if anyone finds out.”
“We’re going inside?”
He nods. “I want to show you my rooms. You’ll enjoy the view. Maybe I’ll even be able to persuade you to move in.”
“You…you don’t hate me?”
“Hate you? What are you talking about? I love you. I know what you were doing in the casino the other day, Scamp. But I don’t want you doing it anymore. I’ll pay you for whatever you have.”
Without another word, I let him walk me down the steps to the rail, and casually I toss the bag in the river. Then we turn together, and he takes me inside.
Chapter 8 – Val
“You live here?” Scamp’s mouth is hanging wide as she turns in a circle in the middle of the room, her eyes lingering on the view out of the windows. “What do you do for a living, Valiant?” She narrows her eyes at me as she takes off her leather jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. “No deliberately being vague this time. You said investments, but this?”
I smile. “Well, some of my investments have been pretty successful. I’m a venture capitalist. I put my money into anything that looks like it has a future, although these days it’s more about having the right feel to it.”
“These days? Six years ago you were working for my father. You said you went to prison. How long have you been doing this?” The words come out of her mouth in a flurry, and while it’s clear she’s interested there’s also a bit of doubt there about how the boy she knew became the man I am now. And I get it, a lot has changed.
“I got lucky,” I tell her, taking her hands in mine. “I got a business degree when I was in prison and when I came out I used what I’d learned and invested what I could get. But I’ve done it honestly and I’ve tried to pay back what I can. I know I’ve been lucky with business, but I’ve been luckier still to run into you again.”
I think about the day I got out of prison, the last time I went to their house. When I saw the woman I assumed was their mom going in through the front door. I remember the thought: they don’t need me. They had their lives, they had a family, something I could only dream about.
Family.
Suddenly, the idea comes to me of Scamp and I having a family of our own. Pip, of course, would be a part of it, but kids of our own too. Kids who would call her mom, who would call me dad. I’ve never thought about it before, but now that I have a shiver runs down my spine.
Without meaning to, I start to make plans, knowing we’d need to give up this suite in the hotel, get a proper place of our own. This is comfortable, but it’s no place to raise a family. Perhaps a bit of land out in the country, somewhere the kids could run about and play. And we could have dogs. I’ve always wanted a dog.
The smile plays on my lips as I watch Scamp exploring the suite of rooms.
“Do you work from here?” she asks, turning my way.
“No. I have an office. And a conference room when it’s needed. They both have pretty good views, too.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “You’ve come such a long way.”
“But it won’t mean anything without you, baby,” I say impulsively. “Please move in with me. We’ll get somewhere for us soon, but I don’t want to be away from you any longer.”
Scamp hesitates for a moment, and then to my absolute joy she nods, her eyelids fluttering. “Pip too?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Okay. You’ve got a deal, Garcia. We’ll move in.”
I cross the room, taking her in my arms and pressing her up against the wall. The squeal of shocked delight that comes from her mouth sends a shiver through me. My fingers trail along the thin cotton of her blouse, down to her waist, playing with the hem, but she smacks the back of my hand, grinning.
“Baby, I need to touch you,” I tell her. “I need it.”
“And what will touching lead to?” she asks, her eyes searching mine.
“What would you like it to lead to?”
She laughs and bites into her bottom lip, her chest rising and falling with long slow breaths. Her clean, soap scent is already underlaid with a hint of musk as her fingers twine into mine and she looks down, avoiding my eyes. “I’m nervous. I’ve felt what’s under there,” she says, and I love her honesty.