And she’s demolished hers, just like she threatened. Nice to know she can be softened with sugar and charmed with compliments. If we sat here and drank coffee long enough for her to sober up, what are the odds she’d let me take her to bed?
Reluctantly, I shutter the thought. As much as I want her, I want revenge more. Pissing away a chance at meaningful retribution for fleeting pleasure isn’t smart. Besides, if I ever get Corinne into bed, I want to take my time. One night wouldn’t be enough.
I spoon a bite of dessert in my mouth and set the plate aside. “It’s very good.”
“But you’re not going to eat it?”
“I’d rather concentrate on something sweeter.”
“Stop flirting.”
“Why should I?”
“You don’t mean it.”
Interesting response, though understandable, given the situation. “You seem awfully sure of that.”
“Men like you are never interested in women like me.”
That isn’t what I expected her to say. I lean back in my chair. “Meaning?”
“Smooth, experienced, worldly… You certainly didn’t think much of me the first time we met.”
“You were fourteen.”
“Fifteen.” Then she rolls her eyes. “I realize you were…what, twenty? I’m not shocked you weren’t interested in me as a girl. But as a human being? You barely spoke to me.”
And she seems hurt by that.
“Not because I was snubbing you.” I could give her a million excuses, but she deserves the truth. “It was my first Christmas without my mom. Your house was more posh than anything I’d ever seen. And your grandparents weren’t thrilled I’d invaded their holiday, especially when they realized you had a crush on me. I kept my distance for them.”
“Oh. None of that registered in my teenage brain. I just…wished you liked me back. It seems silly to say that now.”
“Not silly, honest. That’s why I’m being honest, too. I want you.”
She raises a dark brow at me. “I’m here for business, and I’m not in the market to make another mistake.”
“What happened with the ex?”
“Nothing. It’s over.” Her indifferent expression is a lie.
“There’s always a reason.”
Corinne scowls. “What happened with your last girlfriend?”
“She fucked your brother behind my back and I ended the engagement, remember?”
“You haven’t had a girlfriend since then?” She’s shocked.
“I’ve realized I’m not a relationship kind of guy.”
“Typical. After Riley—my ex—suddenly ended things after dating for nearly a year, I didn’t swear off all men, just the ones who avoid commitment…which seem to be ninety-nine percent of them, including you. We should say good night.” She stands, then braces herself on the table when she wobbles on her feet. “Oh, those drinks hit me harder than I thought.”
I lunge to her side, propping my hand under her elbow and wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. “You all right?”
“My head was swimming. I’m okay now.”
I’m not taking a chance. “Let me get you to your room.” I gesture the waiter over and promise him an even fatter tip if he can run my card and haul back here quickly. He nods and takes off, returning in record time. With one hand still supporting Corinne, I scrawl my signature at the bottom of the receipt, slam down the pen, and pick up her clutch. “Let’s go.”
“Why are you helping me?” she asks as we shuffle to the elevator. “You hate my brother. The things he’s intimated about you in public must make life hard.”
She’s not wrong, but something about her under the influence of gin and champagne makes her seem more fragile than the woman who brazened her way into my office. Maybe that’s because I suspect Riley, the ex, hurt her. Or because—thanks to booze—I’m seeing the real her. It’s also possible she’s deceiving me. “It’s not easy, but that doesn’t make me hate you.”
Corinne snorts. “It just makes you want revenge. That’s why you’re being nice to me. You think I’m your golden ticket.”
Initially, that was true. Now, I’m nice because she intrigues me, too. But I have to stay focused. If I want revenge, she’s my key. I can’t let my morals, my stiff dick, or my feelings get in the way. “We can finish this discussion tomorrow. Let’s get you upstairs.”
“If you’re not going to give me a loan, we have nothing more to say.”
“I haven’t said no,” I point out as the elevator doors glide open. The fact I will is irrelevant. “In you go.”
With a sigh, she leans into the back corner of the car, her head lolling back. As soon as I press the button for her floor, she frowns. “How did you know what tower I’m in?”
Just a guess? Admitting that I’m having a PI dig into her life will piss her off, so I change the subject. “You said earlier that your room isn’t near Arthur’s.”
“True.” She frowns. “How did you know what floor I’m on?”