by Skye Warren
“I could talk to you for hours,” I say, reaching down to stroke the top of her head.
She’s soft and unexpectedly fragile beneath all that fur. It’s almost like armor, the thickness of it. It makes her seem larger than she is. “I could talk for hours, and you still wouldn’t trust me, would you? You won’t believe a thing I say, so I’ll just have to show you.”
I don’t change the cadence of my voice, not even as I reach below the cat and scoop her up, not even as I clasp her securely against my chest and pet her head. She curls against me with a faint purr of relief, her thick tail swishing back and forth in gratitude.
“Oh my God, thank you,” the woman says, looking torn between snatching her cat away and coming near me. Quite a dilemma, she has. “I realized I couldn’t find her thirty minutes ago, and then spent all this time looking, and then when I did find her she wouldn’t come out.” She stops herself, flushing. “Sorry, I babble when I’m nervous.”
And it’s adorable, but I know better than to tell her that.
“My assistance does come with a price,” I say instead.
Her eyes widen. “Oh?”
“Your name. It’s only fair now that I’m holding your pussy.”
Oh, the color of her cheeks. They remind me of sunsets with wind from the west, the kind that herald good weather for sailors the following day. “Bee,” she says.
“The kind that make honey?”
“No, Bea like Beatrix.” She makes a face. “It was my grandmother’s name.”
I would love to say a name as unique as Beatrix while I pound into her, but it’s clear she’d rather I called her by the nickname. Anyway, it suits her. Simple on the surface, a thousand meanings beneath. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bea. And your cat,” I prompt.
“Minette,” she answers, her expression softening.
Upon hearing her name, the cat seems to realize she’s been far too content in a stranger’s arms. She pulls herself away, a little haughty, and leaps onto the floor. Only then, from the relative safety of two feet away, does she turn back to give me a warning hiss.
Then she swishes away with a walk I can only admire.
“I suppose I haven’t made a friend,” I say ruefully.
Bea grins. “Are you kidding? She didn’t take a swipe at you. I’m pretty sure that means she loves you in Minette language. She doesn’t like new people.”
Why do you travel with a cat who dislikes new people? I suppose she could keep her locked up in penthouse suites around the country, wealthy enough to insist that her cat sit with her in first class instead of locked in steerage, but it still seems like a strange pet to travel with.
Come to think of it, the pet isn’t the only thing strange. The old furniture. The young woman who’s looking at me with a mixture of trepidation and hope.
“Is it possible…” I say, almost reluctant to ask, but needing to know. “That she doesn’t meet a lot of people because she lives on the top floor of an exclusive boutique hotel?”
Green eyes blink at me, as wide as the ones that looked at me from behind the dresser. As if I’ve trapped her there. As if I’m the only one who can get her out. “Ah. Yes.” She laughs a little. “What gave it away?”
A million things, but mostly the fact that Bea looks so skittish I think I could spook her if I move too fast. I nod toward a painting on the wall, which features a smaller version of Minette in pointillism. “I assume it’s not standard concierge service to paint a masterpiece of the guest’s pet. Though if it is you really have to mention that in the Expedia review.”
She laughs, the sound light as air, making my chest feel full. “I’m guessing Olivier would rather paint her than clean her litterbox.”
So she’s on a first-name basis with the concierge. It means she’s been living here for a while, most likely, which is interesting because she can’t be older than twenty. The high-necked dress is strange for someone that young, but it’s surprisingly sexy. It conforms to her figure, emphasizing her curves and making my blood run hot.
Her smile fades. “It’s not a problem, is it? Me living here?”
As quickly as that, my profession fills the air like smoke. Like a bomb went off.
“It’s no problem,” I assure her. The agency will send me to a hotel room as easily as a client’s high-rise condo. There’s no difference as long as the credit card charge goes through.
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A male escort. His virgin client. What happens when one night isn’t enough?
I’m an escort, which means this date is nothing more than a mutually enjoyable transaction. There shouldn’t be any surprises, not for one as jaded as me, but when I walk into the penthouse suite of L’Etoile, everything changes.
1) For one thing, Bea is heartstoppingly gorgeous. Pale green eyes and endless freckles. Curves I want to spend all night exploring, as if her body was made for me.
2) Her innocence makes me want to use my entire inventory of bedroom tricks on her and then invent a few more.
3) Except that… she’s a virgin.
I can initiate her into the world of desire without letting her get attached, can’t I? A few hours of tutoring, and at the end of the night a small fortune will be deposited into my bank account.
But once I realize one night with her won’t be enough, I’m the one who’s screwed.
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Books by Skye Warren
Endgame trilogy & Masterpiece Duet
The Pawn (FREE DOWNLOAD!)
The Knight
The Castle
The King
The Queen
Underground series
Rough Hard Fierce (FREE DOWNLOAD!)
Wild Dirty Secret
Sweet
Deep
Stripped series
Tough Love (FREE DOWNLOAD!)
Love the Way You Lie
Better When It Hurts
Even Better
Pretty When You Cry
Caught for Christmas
Hold You Against Me
To the Ends of the Earth
Criminals and Captives standalones
Prisoner
Hostage
Standalone Dangerous Romance
Wanderlust
On the Way Home
Beauty and the Beast
Anti Hero
Escort
For a complete listing of Skye Warren books, visit
www.skyewarren.com/books
About the Author
Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dangerous romance such as the Endgame trilogy. Her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, sweet dogs, and evil cat.
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, the reproduction or use of this work in any part is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.
The Evolution of Man © 2018 by Skye Warren
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