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Chapter1

AsXavierdeSantis,billionairebadboyandyoungestsonofthesecondrichestmaninNew
York,sloppedstewintothetinplatesofthepoorandneedyattheMidtownhomelessshelter
hisfatherhadforcedhimtovolunteerat,herealizeditwasn’ttheactualphysicalrealityof
Manhattan’spoorandneedythatbotheredhimthemost.

Itwasthesmell.Nottheunwashedbodiesortheunkempthairortheterriblebreath.No,

asunpleasantasallthatwas,thathecoulddealwith.

Itwasthesmellofhopelessness,ofdespair,thathehaddifficultywith.
Hedidn’tknowwhy,sincehopelessnessanddespairwerealsoprevalentinthesocial

circleshemovedin,butmaybeitwasbecauseinhisworldtheywerejustbetterhidden.Here,
inthepeopleliningupforwhatwasprobablytheironlymealoftheday,theywererightin
hisface.

Itmadehimuncomfortable,andiftherewasonethingXavierhated,itwasbeing

uncomfortable.Especiallywhenbeinguncomfortablemadehimrunatthemouthlikeatool.

“Idon’tlikeit,”hesaidtotheoldmanwithbrokenteethwhowasstandinginfrontofhim

holdingoutaplate.“Imean,I’msorry.Ijustcan’tdodespair.”Heliftedtheladleofstewand
poureditoutontotheman’splate.“Hopelessness,fine.Okay,no,it’snotfine,obviously.But
it’seasiersomehow,youknow?”

Theoldmanlookedathim,hisfaceutterlyblank,thenshuffledonasifXavierhadn’t

spoken.

“Whataboutyou?”Xavieraskedasanotherpersonmovedinfrontofhim,anotherold

manwholookedninetybutwasprobablyonlyallofsixty.“Careforalittledespairwithyour
hopelessness?Orareyoumoreadespairpersonwithasideorderofhopelessness?”

ThemanblinkedathimasifhewasspeakingGreek.
“Halfandhalf,amIright?”Xavierladledmorestew.“Thehopelessnessanddespairare

prettyevenandyou’renotfavoringoneortheother?Ilikethat.Life’sallaboutbalance,yes?”

Themanshookhishead,mutteredsomethingunderhisbreath,andmovedontocollect

hisportionofbread,whilethevolunteeronXavier’sleftshotXavieradisgustedlook.

Right.Hewasprobablytalkingtoomuchagain.Buthowelsewashesupposedtoget

throughthis?Hepreferredthrowingmoneyataproblem,preferablyfromasafedistance,not
havingtostarerightintoitsgrim,haggardfaceandworn,raggedclothes.

Unfortunatelythough,duetoadrunkenbrawlwithapaparazzowho’dbeenshovinghis

stupidfuckingcamerainXavier’sface,Xaviergottogetrightupcloseandpersonalwithit.

Thepaparazzo,likesomanyofthem,hadbeenanasshole,instantlyseeingdollarsigns

themomentXavierhadgrabbedtheoffendingcameraandflungitintoanearbytrashcan.
Dollarsignsmeaningassaultcharges,despitethefactthatXavierhadbarelytouchedhim.

NormallyCesaredeSantis,headofDeSantisCorp,thecountry’sbiggestpersonalsecurity

manufacturer,andXavier’sfather,usuallylethissonsdealwiththeirownproblems,butin
thisinstance,he’dhadtostepintothebreach,usinghisinfluenceandliberalamountsof
cashtomakethepapdropthecharges.He’dalsomadeitverycleartoXavierthatapublic

showofpenitencewasrequired,sincehavingthedeSantisnameassociatedwithviolence
wasasteptoofarforbuyerswhodidn’tliketoberemindedthatpersonalsecurityincluded
weaponsandthatweaponscouldbeactuallyusedtokillpeople.

“Protection’swhatthey’rebuying,”hisfatherhadalwayssaid.“Andthat’swhatwe’re

selling.”

Xavierhadnoproblemwiththat.Whathedidhaveaproblemwithwasapologizing.That

andabasinghimself.HewasagoddamndeSantisandhedidn’thavetoprovehowsorryhe
wasforwhathe’ddone,because(a)hewasn’tverysorryand(b)hehadn’tevenlandeda
punch,thoughhe’dverymuchwantedto.

Still,itwaseithervolunteerattheshelterorlosetheonethinginentireworldheactually

wanted,theonethinghe’dspentmostofhisadultlifeworkingtoward:ownershipofhislate
mother’sWyomingranch.

BlueSkieswasownedbyhisfathernowandbecauseCesareknewXavierwantedit,he

helditoverXavier’sheadateveryopportunityinordertogethissontodowhathewanted.
CesaredeSantiswasamanipulativebastardandtherealkickerwasthatitworked.

IfXavierwantedthatranch—andhewanteditvery,verybadlyindeed—hehadtodo

whateverhisfathersaid.WhichmeantworkinginDeSantisCorpasaglorifiedsalesman,
demonstratingnewproducts,suckinguptopotentialclients,andgenerallybeingthehappy
posterboyforDeSantisPersonalSecuritysystems.

ItwasalsowhyhewasinthisshittyMidtownhomelessshelter,dolingoutslop,having

cometodohisvolunteerstintstraightfromapartyattheMet.

Hehadn’tevenbotheredchangingoutofhistux.
Throughthewindowthatfacedthestreet,thepaparazziwerehangingaround,takingpics

ofhimthroughtheglass,thoughthedeSantissecurityteamwaitingforhimoutsidewere
doingtheirbesttomovethemalong.

Xaviersmiledandgavethemajauntywave.Which,onreflection,wasn’tverypenitentof

him.Atall.

Thenextpersonmovedinfrontofhim,holdingouttheirtray.
“WhatcanIgetforyoutoday?”heasked,gettingborednow.“Willitbethesteworthe

stew?”

Butitwasn’tanoldmanstandinginfrontofhimthistime.Itwasawoman.
Shewaslittleanddressedinaplain,darkbluebuttondownshirt,adirtybrownovercoat

atleastthreesizestoobigforher,andahideous,brightorangewoolenbeaniepulleddown
overherhead.Herfeaturesweredelicateandsharplyangled,notprettybutintense-looking
somehow,andherwideblackeyestiltedupatthecornerslikeacat’s.

Somethingburnedinthoseeyes,akindoffirethatreachedoutandgrabbedhimbythe

throat,andXavier,whoalwayshadsomethingtosay,suddenlycouldn’tthinkofasingle
word.

Sheheldouthertray,brightblackeyeswatchinghimwarily.
Reflexively,hesmiledatherashedoledoutherstew.
Herexpressiondidn’tchangeintheslightest.Infact,shelookedawayasifhedidn’texist,

movingontocollectsomebreadfromthepersonnexttohim.

Xavierblinked.Hecouldn’tthinkofthelasttimeawomanhadn’trespondedtohissmile.

Or,cometothinkofit,haddismissedhimsocompletely.Itwasenoughtogiveaguya
complex,notthathewasoneforcomplexes.Hell,itwasevenkindoffunnythatapoorlittle

homelesswomancouldcutoneofNewYork’smostsoughtafterandnotoriousbadboys
dead.

Hegrinnedtohimselfandpromptlyforgotaboutit.
Thenextnight,though,hewasbackattheshelter,latethistimebecausehe’dbeengiving

apresentationtosomegovernmentclientswho’dinsistedondealingwithhimpersonally.
He’dimpressedthefuckoutofthemwiththenewDeSantisdevelopmentinbodyarmor,and
sincehisfatherhadmadeitclearthatifXaviermanagedtoclosethisparticularcontract,he’d
beonestepclosertogettingownershipoftheranch,hewasfeelinginaparticularlygood
mood.

Hewhistledashedoledouttonight’smeal—lasagnathistime—smilingatthe

downtroddenlinedupinfrontofhim.

Twooldmen,threemiddle-agedwomen,andoneyoungguywithanobviousmeth

addictionlater,Xavierfoundahideousburntorangebeanieinhissightline.Hefrowned,then
loweredhisgazetomeetapairoffamiliarbrightblackeyes.

Itwasher.Again.
Acuriousjoltwentthroughhim,whichwasjustdownrightstrangesincehedidn’tgofor

womenindirtyovercoatsandorangebeanies.Histastesrantotallandathletic,orsmalland
voluptuous,hewasn’tthatpickyonshape,tobefair.Iftheywereintohimandhewasinto
them,itwasallgood.Butgenerally,hepreferredtochoosehispartnersfrombarsorparties,
nothomelessshelters.

Sowhythiswomanshouldholdhisattentionwasanyone’sguess.
Shewasjust...actually,hecouldn’tputhisfingeronwhatshewas.Therewasa...fire

inher.Afirehe’dneverseeninanyotherwoman,oratleastnotonethatburnedsobrightly.
Forsomecompletelyinexplicablereason,itfascinatedhim.

Hesmiledatheragain,givingherthefull-onXavierdeSantistreatmentthatusually

madewomenflutterandgiggleliketeenagersinfrontoftheirfavoritemoviestar.Butagain,
thiswomanblankedhimlikehewasn’teventhere.

Thistimeitwasn’tsoamusing.
Oddlyirritatedforbeingirritatedaboutit,Xavierputitoutofhismind.
Untilthenextnightwhensheturnedupinfrontofhimagain,holdingouthertray,those

fascinatingblackeyesblinkingathim.

“Goodevening,madam,”hesaid,becausehe’dbedamnedifheletawomanmakehim

losethepowerofspeechtwiceinoneweek.“Willyoubehavingthecaviar?”

Shesaidnothing.Andwhenhedoledouttheclamchowder,sheturnedawayasifhe

hadn’tsaidathing.Again.

Goddammit.
Hecouldn’tworkoutwhyhewassoirritated,becausewhatthehelldidhecareifsome

womandidn’trespondtohisperfectlyfriendlysmiles?Shedidn’thaveto,andnodoubtshe
hadfarmoreimportantstufftodealwiththansmilingback.Butstill.

Itneedledhim.
Nightfourandhecamedirectlyinfromtheoffice,stillinhisbespokesuitandtie,dishing

outladlesfulofsomegodawfulvegetablesoup.Thepaparazzioutsidehadthinnedout
somewhat,thenoveltyofadeSantishelpingoutinahomelessshelterwearingoff,which
Xavierfoundatadgalling.Helikedbeingthecenterofattention,andwhenthespotlight
wasn’tonhimhestartedtogetantsy.

Asthepeoplelinedupfortheirmeal,hefoundhimselfglancingattheirfaces,asif

lookingforsomeone.Sureenough,whenhespottedthatorangebeanie,hefeltsomething
insidehimsettle.

Okay,ridiculousasthiswas,ifhecoulddemothelatestDeSantishigh-techweaponryto

thedelightofthemilitary,nottomentionthegovernment,thenhecouldatleastgetsome
kindoffuckingreactionoutofonelittlehomelesswoman.

Sheapproachedhim,holdingouthertray.ButthistimeXavierdidn’tsmileatherandhe

didn’tsayaword.Hejustlookedather.Lookedstraightintoherblackeyesandheldhergaze
withhis,unleashingthefullpoweroftheinfamousdeSantischarismaonher.

Shewrinkledhernoseandturnedaway.
Thistimehewasn’tonlyirritated.Hewasannoyed.
Ridiculoustogetsoworkedupaboutawomanignoringhim,especiallywhenhehadso

manywomenfallingathisfeet,anditreallydidmakehimaclichétobesofascinatedbythe
onewomanwhodidn’t.

But...hejustcouldn’thelpit.Hewasannoyed.
Nightfiveandhedecidedthatifshewasthere,hewasgoingtoignorehercompletely.No

smile.Nonothing.Itwasstupidforsomeonelikehimtoletsomeonelikeherunderhisskin,
utterlystupid.

Butthistimetheblack-eyedwomanandhertelltaleorangebeaniewasn’tthere.
Notthathecared.Hehadmanyothermoreimportantthingstobeworriedabout,suchas

securingthisgovernmentcontractandfinallygettinghisfathertohandoverBlueSkiesto
him.

Hecouldn’tfuckingwait.Itwasn’tthathemindedthecity—much—buthishearthad

alwaysbeenbackinWyoming,wheretheirfamilyhadoriginallycomefromandwherehe’d
spentsummersasaboy.He’dalwaysplannedtomovebackthere,thoughhisfatherdidn’t
knowthatquiteyet.Infacthisfatherwouldn’tknowthatuntilBlueSkieswasfinally
Xavier’s,becausehewasprettysurethemanipulativeoldbastardwouldtryandfindsome
waytostophimifhedid.

ForCesaredeSantis,business—andthereforetheentireknownuniverse—revolved

aroundNewYork,notsomeranchinthemiddleofnowhere,andNewYorkwaswherehe’d
insistedhisfamilyremain.

ButnotXavier.Hewasgoingtogetoutassoonashecould.
Nightsix,andXavierhadcomeinbeforeapartyhehadtogotoinHell’sKitchen.Onlya

coupleofpaparazzihangingaroundthistime,andtheseguysweremoreinterestedinfiddling
aroundwiththeirphonesthaninhim.Whichwasaggravating.

Hedidn’tlookfortheorangebeanie—deliberatelydidn’tlook—andhedidn’tsayawordto

thepeopleliningupfortheirmeals.

Thensuddenlythereshewasinfrontofhim.Wearingthesameoutfitshe’dbeenwearing

threedaysearlier,thatorangebeaniepulleddownlowoverherhead.Therewassnowonthe
shouldersofherovercoatandshadowsbeneathherdarkeyes.Butthoseeyesburnedeven
brightertonight,asifsomethinghadstokedthefireinsideher,andhehadtheoddest
impressionthathecouldholdouthishandstoherlikeshewasafire,andhisfingerswould
warmup.

Hesaidnothingassheheldouthertraytohim,ladlinginthesamekindofstewthathe’d

ladledoutsixnightsearlier.Butassheturnedawaytogetherbread,hemurmured,“You

needanewhat.”

Hergazeflickered.Andforasecond,herdarkeyescametohis.
Thenshelookedaway.
Itwasn’tmuch,butitwasthefirstreactionhe’dgottenfromher,andhefeltitlikea

victory,asurgeofsatisfactionsweepingthroughhim.

Nexttime,ohnexttime,hewasgoingtomakesureshedidn’tlookaway.

***

Theguywasthereagain,watchingherasshefoundaplaceatthetableandstartedtoeat.Mia
couldalmostfeelhiseyesdrillingholesinherback.

Shedidn’tlikeit.Shedidn’tlikehimlookingather,seeingher.Shedidn’tlikehim

watchingherlikeheexpectedsomethingfromher.

Notthatitwashardtoworkoutwhatmostmenexpectedfromher,buttheweirdthing

withthisguywasthatshedidn’tthinkhewasaftersex.

Shedidn’tknowwhathewasafterandthatwasthethingthatunsettledher.
Thefirstnighthe’dappearedattheshelter,shealmosthadn’tbeenabletolookathim,he

wasso...bright.Andshiny.Andclean.

He’dbeeninatuxandwassotall,allthatspotlessblackfabricstretchingoutinfrontof

her,andwhenshe’dlookedintohiseyes,she’dfeltsomethinginsideherfallaway.They’d
beenblue.Bluelikethelittlepatchofskyshecaughtglimpsesoffromhercurrentalleyway
hideout.

Shedidn’tlikethateither.Nothisblueeyesortheshapeofhisface,theplanesandangles

ofhisnose,cheekbonesandjawarrangingthemselvesintosomethingsheknewwasprobably
handsome.Morethanthateven.Orhisblackhair,thewayitlookedthickandspikyandsoft,
asifshecouldsinkherfingersintoitlikeafurcoat.

Nope.Shedidn’tlikehandsome,blue-eyed,black-hairedmenintuxes.Theyrankedhighly

onherlistofpeoplenevertotrust,alongwithcops,socialworkers,priests,anddoctors.
Basicallyanyonetellinghertheywantedto“help.”

Shedidn’tneedtheirhelp.Shedidn’tneedanyone.
Miagulpedherfoodthengotridofthetray,allthewhiletryingtoignoretheman’seyes

watchingher.She’dbeendebatingaboutwhethertostaythenightinthesheltersinceitwas
gettingcoldoutside,butthemanmadehernervoussoshedidn’t.

Shehurriedpasthimwithoutlookingathimagain.
Helookedlikeagodandshedidn’ttrustmenwholookedlikegods.
Shedidn’ttrustgodseither.
Especiallynotoneswhomadecommentsaboutherhat.
ThatnightshehuddledinherspotbetweentheDumpsterandthewallofthebuilding

behindit.She’dfeltverypleasedwithherselfforfindingitbecausetherewasahotpipethat
ranupthesideofthebuildingthatshecouldleanagainstforwarmth.Buttonightthecoldbit
deep,snowswirlingintheair,andthehotpipedidn’tfeelhotenough.

Fuckingwinter.Shehatedit.Whenitgottoocold,shewasforcedtogobacktothe

sheltersfullofpeoplecoughingandhackingandcomplainingandcrying.Peoplewho’dgiven
uponlifeandonwhomlifehadgivenuponaswell.

Shehatedthattoo,thereminderofwhereherownlifewasheadedifshedidn’tfind

herselfaplacetolive.Thenagain,itwasallattitude,wasn’tit?Thosepeoplewerea
nightmarefuturesheneededtofacesometimes,togiveherthestrengthtokeepgoing,keep
pushing.Keepsurviving.

Becauseiftherewasonethingshewasn’tgoingtodo,itwastoenduponthestreetsfor

therestofherlife.Shewasn’tgoingtoenduplikeOldCatherine,thehomelesswomanwho’d
firsthelpedMiawhenshe’descapedfromhergranandcameoutontothestreets.Who’d
endedupdeadinanalleywaywiththedetritusofherlifescatteredaroundher.Missedbyno
one,mournedbynoone.Knownbynoone.NooneexceptMia.

Nope,nofuckingwayshewasendinguplikethat.Shewasgoingtogetherselfoffthe

streets.Shewasgoingtogetherselfahome.

Miahuddledagainstthepipeandstaredupatthenightsky,ignoringthesoundsofadrug

dealgoingdownontheothersideoftheDumpster.Shecouldn’tseethestarsinManhattan,
butsheknewtheywereupthere.Justlikesheknewthatsomewheretherewasahome
waitingforher.

Sheonlyhadtokeeponbelievingshe’dgetthere.
Thenextnightshehoveredoutsidetheshelter,tryingtoseethroughthefogged-up

windowsifthemanwasthere.Itwouldbeapainintheassifhewas,becauseshehadn’t
managedtofindanyfoodalldayand,ifshewantedtoeatthenshe’dhavetohavesomething
here.Skippingamealwouldbeokay—onceshe’dgoneawholetwodayswithoutfood—but
sheneededtoeattohelpherdealwiththecold.

“Mia?”Tony,oneofthevolunteers,wasonthedoorandhesmiledather.“Areyou

comingintonight?”

Tonywasoneofthebettervolunteers.Hedidn’taskquestionsandhedidn’ttrytoforce

herintoanythingshedidn’twanttodo.Helistened—well,mostlylistened.Whenshe’d
startedaskingquestionsabouthowtofindsomewheretolive,he’dbeenhelpful,explaining
whatthingsshehadtoget—birthcertificate,socialsecuritynumber,bankaccount.Things
shedidn’thave,butneededtoinordertogetaplacetolive.

He’dofferedheraccommodationtoo.Inoneofthelargershelterswhereshecouldhave

herownroom,butshedidn’twantthat.Shewantedsomethingpermanent.Thatwouldn’t
blowaway,orgetmovedon,orwashedawayinthenextrainstorm.Shewantedsomething
thatwouldbeforever.

ShetriedtopeerthroughthedoorswithoutTonynoticing,becauseshedidn’twantto

havetoexplainwhyshedidn’twanttogoinside.Butagain,shecouldn’tseeanything.

“Idunno,”shemuttered.
“It’sspaghetti.Youlikespaghetti,right?”
Actually,shelikedtacos.Spaghettiremindedherofhergrandmother,andshehatedtobe

remindedofhergrandmother.

Herstomach,thefuckingtraitor,chosethatmomenttogrowl,makingTonyjerkhishead

towardtheentrance.“Goon.Youneedtoeatsomething.”

Anditwastrue,shedid.Thesmelloffoodwasthickandrich,andeventhoughtherewere

badmemoriesassociatedwiththesmell,herbodydidn’tcare.Itneededfuel.Sosheshrugged
asifitdidn’tmattertoheronewayortheother,andsteppedthroughthedoors.

Itwashotinside,thesmelloffoodcombiningwiththesoursmellofunwashedbodies.

Mia,usedtoit,barelynoticed.Shewastoobusystaringatthevolunteersmanningthe

counterswheretheydishedoutthefood.

Hewasn’tthere.ThankGodforthat.
Shesettledherself,grabbingatrayandgettinginline,standingtheresilentlylisteningto

thebuzzofconversationfromthepeoplearoundher.Shedidn’tliketalkingtopeople,since
theyalwaysaskedtoomanyquestions,butshelikedlisteningtootherpeopletalk.Itmade
herfeelconnectedinawaysherarelydid.

Thelinewaslongbutitmovedfast,andsoonshewasmovingwithhertrayovertooneof

thetables,findingaplacetositthatwasn’ttoonearanyoneelse,andeatingquickly.

Therecameasmalleruptionofnoisebythedoor,morepeopletalkingthenlaughing.Mia,

toobusyeating,didn’tturnaround.Andthensheheardit,thesoundofavoice,deepand
dark,smoothandwarm.Anexpensivevoice.

Him.
Shehunchedhershouldersandwentverystill,aprimitiveresponsetodanger,sure,butit

hadkeptheraliveinthepast.Notthatshethoughthewasgoingtokillheroranything,she
justdidn’twanthimtoseeher.Or,infact,noticeherinanyway.

Thesoundofhisvoicerolledbeneatheveryoneelse’s,cuttingthroughthemeffortlesslyas

ifheneverexpectednottobeheardoranyonenottolistenwhenhespoke.Butitdidn’t
soundlikeitwascomingcloser,whichwasgood.

Shescrapedthelastofthespaghettisauceoffthebottomofhermetaltray.Ifshewas

quick,she’dbeabletogetoutofherebeforehehadachancetonoticeshewashere.

Theneverynerveendinginherbodysprangtoattention,thehairsonthebackofherneck

lifting.Becausesomeonewasstandingbehindher.Someoneverytall.Andshecouldsmell
somethingspicyandluxurious,ascentshehadnocomparisonsforandcouldn’tdescribe.A
scentthatmadeherhungry—andnotforfood,whichwasjustdownrightconfusing.

Shefroze,dreadshiftinginsideher.
Ahandcamedownonthetablenexttoher,tanned,long-fingered,andverymasculine.A

handwithwhitescarsscatteredalloverit.Andtherewassomethingbetweenthoselong
fingers,somethingmadeoutofmidnightbluewool.

“Here,”thatdeep,darkvoicesaid.“Youmightfindauseforthis.”
Thenheleft.Shecouldhearhimmovingaway,talkingtosomeoneelsenow,hisvoice

fading,thatdeliciousscentfadingwithhim.

Sheblinked,staringdownatthethinghe’dleftonthetable.
Itwasknittedandsoft-looking,andshehadahorriblefeelingthatitmightbeahat.
Angerroseinsideher,thickandhot,becauseshehateditwhenpeoplegaveherthings

withoutasking.Withoutthinkingaboutwhetheritwassomethingsomeoneelsemightwant
andwhichthencouldpotentiallybestolenoffher.Shepreferrednottohavethingsatall
becausethelessshehad,thelessotherpeopleviewedherasatarget.

Sheshouldleaveitonthetable,orbetteryet,throwitonthefloorandwipeherfilthy

sneakersalloverit,tearitupanddestroyit.Thatwaynoonecouldhaveit.

Theoldmanacoupleofseatsawayreachedouttosnatchit,andbeforeshecouldstop

herself,Miafoundherfingersclosingaroundthebluewoolandjammingitinherpocket
instead.

Itwassounbelievablysoftshecouldn’tmakeherselfletitgo.
Damn,shewasanidiot.Iftherewasonethinglivingonthestreetshadtaughther,itwas

thatgettingattachedtoanythingatallwasabadmove,becausesoonerorlateryoueitherlost

itorsomeoneelsetookitfromyou.

Bettertolettheoldmanhaveit.
Butshedidn’ttakeitoutofherpocketandfiveminuteslater,asshesteppedoutintothe

freezingnight,shewasstillholdingit.

Chapter2

Nighteightshewasn’tthere.

Nightnineshewas.Andshewasn’twearinghisgoddamnhat.
Shestoodinfrontofhim,holdingouthertray,hergazeaimedsquarelyatthemiddleof

hischest,thatfilthyorangemonstrositypulleddownlowonherhead.Nosignofthesoft
bluecashmerebeaniehe’dgottenSandra,hissecretary,tobuyfromBarneysonherlunch
houracoupleofdaysearlier.

Xaviercouldn’tbelievehewasirritatedaboutit,andyethewas.Womennormallylovedit

whenheboughtthemstuff,theyateitupwithafuckingspoon,gigglingandflutteringtheir
eyelashesandfallingoverthemselvestothankhim.Mostofthetimeheevengotlaidoutof
it,notthathewasinterestedinthiswomaninthatway.He’donlywantedtohelpher.

Apparentlythough,hishelpwasn’tgoodenough.
“Whatdidyoudowithmyhat?”hedemandedbeforehecouldstophimself.
Shesaidnothing,hersharplittlefaceexpressionless.Shehadthelongest,thickest,black

eyelashes,andforasecondhethoughthecaughtglimpseofbrightblackeyesstaringupat
himthroughthem.

Thenshewasmovingontothevolunteerbesidehim,gettingahelpingofwhatever

overcookedvegetablestheywereservingthatnight.

Whythefuckdoesthismattertoyou?
Hedidn’tknowandshit,itwasn’tgoingtomatteranymore.HewasgoingtoWashington

inacoupleofdaysanyway,forameetingwithsomemorepoliticalbigwigs,andhehadtobe
onhisbestbehavior,whichmeantgettingirritatedwithhomelesswomenabouthowthey
weren’twearinghatshe’dbroughtthemwasawastetime.

Hesmiledatthenextpersoninline,ayoungguywithsoresonhisfaceandamaniclook

inhiseye.“Soupforyou,sir?Don’tmindifIdo.”Asheladledoutthesoup.hisgaze
wanderedbacktoorange-hatcreature,unabletokeepfromwatchingherasshemovedover
tothetablesandsatdown,hunchinghershouldersasiftryingtomakeherselfsmaller.

Andforaboutthehundredthtimesincehe’dfirstlaideyesonher,hetriedtoworkout

whyshewassodamnfascinating.Shewasn’tpretty,shewasn’tbeautiful.Shewas
undernourishedandprobablyfilthy.But...Christ.Therewasjustsomethingabouther.Even
here,evensurroundedbyalltheseotherpoorpeople,shestoodout.Itwasthereinhereyes,
inhersharp,intensefeatures,abright,burninglight.

Everyoneherereekedofdesperation,thesameastheyreekedofitinhisownsocial

circles.True,itwasdifferentinthepenthousesonFifthAvenue.Itwasn’taboutsimple
survivalthere,itwasmoreaboutpower:peoplewereeitherdesperatetoacquireitorthey
weredesperatetokeepit.

Butitwasn’tdesperationhegotfromher.Hedidn’tknowwhatitwas,didn’treallyhave

anywaytodescribewhatradiatedfromher,buttheclosesthecouldcometoitwas...
determination.Shewasawomanwhoknewwhatshewantedandwasgoingouttogetit.

Yeah,heknewwhatthatwasallabout.

Hestaredatherasthenextpersoncameforfood,notpayingattentionintheslightestas

hesloppedthesoupintotheirtray.Whatthehelldidawomanlikeherwant?Whenyouhad
nothingatall,whatwasthethingyouweremostdeterminedtohave?Wasitsimply
survivingeachday?Ordidshehopeformore?

Ithadtobemore.Thatkindofdeterminationspokeofhope,whichwasastrangethingto

thinkwhenyouwerestandingrightinthemiddleofsuchhopelessness.

ThelinemovedonandXavierkeptstaring.
Therewerenopaparazzioutsidenow,everyonehadlostinterestinthesonoftheweapons

billionairedishingoutmealsatahomelessshelter.TheonlypeopleleftweretwoDeSantis
Corpbodyguardswho’dinsistedonfollowinghimdownhere,eventhoughhecouldwelllook
afterhimself.He’dbeentoldtheyhadtostayoutsidesincetheymadepeopleintheshelter
uncomfortable,andhewasokaywiththat.Hedidn’tthinkanyofthesepoorbastardscould
pullaknifeonhimevenifthey’dwantedto.

Thenagain,itwouldliventhingsupalittleiftheydid.
Hewasdolingoutthelastofthesoup,whenraisedvoicesdrewhisattention.
Acoupleofpeoplewerehavinganaltercationatoneofthetablesandhewasconcernedto

seethattheywerehavingitverynearhisorange-hatcreature.

Shestoodup,scuttlingbackfromthefightthatwasgoingon,cannoningintoaratherfrail

oldmanwhoputoutahandtostophimselffromfalling,grabbingahandfulofherorange
hat.Shemadeasmall,protestingsound,pullingawayfromtheoldmanaspeoplewentto
helphim,herhandsreachingtosettleherhatmorefirmlyonherhead.

ButnotbeforeXaviercaughtaglimpseofsomethingbluebeneaththeorangewool.
Shewaswearinghisbluebeanieunderneath.
Somethingtwistedinsideofhim,somethinghardandsavageandprimitive.A

combinationoffiercesatisfactionandakindofferalpossessivenessthatwascompletely
alientohim.

He’dspentmuchofhisadultlifenotwantinganythingandnotgivingashitaboutanyone,

sotheintensityofthisparticularfeelingshouldhaveworriedhim.Attheveryleastitshould
havemadehimvaguelyuneasy.Buthewasn’tworriedandhewasn’tuneasy,heonlywatched
assheturnedaroundandheadedtowardtheshelterdoorswithoutevenaglanceinhis
direction.

“Mia,”someonecalled,andhesawhercheck.Butshedidn’tstop,justkeptgoingoutinto

thecoldnight,vanishingintothedark.

Mia.Thatwashername,hewascertain.Andshe’dkepthishat.
Nighttenandhewasthereearly,takinguphisstationbehindthebigbowlofchilithat

wentoneveryone’stacos.

HewassupposedtobeattendingameetingatdeSantisheadquarterstogooverthelatest

testresultsforthebodyarmorhewastakingwithhimtoWashington,butthatcouldwait.At
least,itcouldwaituntilhe’ddonehiscommunityduty.

Andseenorange-hatcreature,akaMia.
Buthewastherethewholenight,andshedidn’tturnup.
Herefusedtobedisappointed.Absolutelyfuckingrefused.Andheabsolutelyfucking

refusedtoworryabouthereither.

Yetashefinishedupathisfoodstation,heturnedtotheguywhoorganizedallthemeals

andasked,“Thewomanintheorangehat.Ididn’tseehertonight.”

Themanblinked,obviouslynotexpectingtobeaddressed,thenhelookedaroundthe

noisydiningroom.“Uh...Miayoumean?”

So,hernamewasMia.“Yeah,her.”
“No,Idon’tseeher.Sometimesshecomesinandsometimesshedoesn’t.”Heshrugged.

“Liketheyalldo.”

Xavierfrowned,notlikingtheguy’scavalierattitude.“Wheredoesshegotothen?”
Themaneyedhim.“Whydoyouask?”Therewasonlythemeresthintofsuspicioninhis

tone,butXaviercaughtitnonetheless.

Jesus.Whatdidtheguythinkhewasgoingtodo?IfXavierwantedawomantoscrew,he

wasn’texactlygoingtogotothelocalhomelesssheltertofindone.“Ijustwanttomakesure
she’sokay,”hesaid,pouringonthedeSantischarm.“It’sbeenverycoldthepastcoupleof
nightsandifshe’soutonthestreets...”

Themansighed.“Therearebedshereforpeopleiftheyneedthem.Butsomeofthem

don’tlikeithere.Theydon’tlikebeingaroundotherpeopleortheydon’tliketherules.Alot
ofdifferentstuff.Miais...independent.Andstubborn.Ifshedoesn’twanttobehere,it
doesn’tmatterhowcolditis,shewon’tbe.”

Xavierdidn’tlikethat.Didn’tlikethatatall.“It’ssnowing.Ifshe’soutthereshe’llfreeze

todeath.”

“Alotofpeoplefreezetodeathoutthere,Mr.deSantis,”themansaid,andthistime

Xavierdidn’tmissthethinedgeofcontemptinhisvoice.Directedathim,clearly.“Butyou
can’tmake’emtakeabediftheydon’twantit.”

Bullshit.Youcouldmakesomeonedoanythingifyoutriedhardenough,andclearlythe

volunteersattheshelterweren’ttryinghardenough.

Whyshouldyoucare?It’satragedy,sure,butshe’sjustonewoman.Besides,you’vegot

Washingtontogetthrough.Youcan’taffordtogetdistractednow.

Thatwasunfortunatelytrue.Hisfatherwantedthiscontractandifhedidn’tlandit,he

couldkisshismother’sranchgood-bye.

Nowayhewasgoingtojeopardizethat.
Xaviernoddedtothemanthenhegotoutofthere.
AndtriednottothinkaboutMia.
Nightelevenandhewaslate,cominginfromafamilydinnerthathadbeenthevery

definitionofdysfunctional.Andno,hehadn’tbeenusingtheshelterasanexcuse,ofcourse
not.Lorenzohadbeenhisusualcold,uptightself,arguingwiththeirfather,whileRafaelhad
fussedaroundtryingtokeepeveryonecalm.

He’dfuckedoffthefirstchancehehadbecausehehatedthatcrap.Andquitefrankly,

beinghere,inthewarm,mugginessoftheshelterthatsmelledofstalefoodandsoursweat
wasamuchmorepeacefulexperiencethansittinginhisfather’soverdecoratedpenthouse
listeningtohisbrothersargueaboutthecompany’sdirection.

Hegrinnedatthepeopleliningupinfrontofhim.“Who’sforchilli?”
Noonereplied,buthewasgettingusedtothat.Infact,itwaskindofnicetotalkandhave

noonearguewithhimoraskhimwhathemeantbythat,orquestionhimabouthispolitical
beliefs,andwhetherhethoughtdeliveringgunstothegeneralpopulacewaswrong.

Hewasstilltalkingaboutnothingtonooneinparticular,whenhelookedupandfound

herstandinginfrontofhim,staringathisshirtagain.

Theweird,possessivethinginsidehimwentvery,verystill.Asifonewrongmovewould

scareheraway.

Heshouldaskherwhethershewasokay.Whethershehadsomewherewarmtosleep.He

shouldremindherthattheshelterwaswarmandsheshouldstaythere,becauseitwasalot
saferthanthestreets.

Buthedidn’t.
“Youkeptit,didn’tyou?”hesaid.
Shedidn’tsayanything,butagain,forabrief,blindingmoment,shelookedupandmet

hisgaze.Thereweretinyflamesinhereyes—hecouldhaveswornit—andhecouldn’tseemto
lookaway.

“Iknowyoudid,”hewenton,utterlycaptivated.“Youkeptit.Therewasafighttheother

dayandanoldmanpulledatthathideousorangethingonyourheadandyouwerewearing
myhatunderneathit.”

Somethingflashedinhereyes,onlyforasecond,thenitwasgone.Herthickblacklashes

camedownandsheturnedaway,notbotheringthistimetogotothenextstationforfood,
hurryingovertothetablestositdowntoeat.

“Mia,”hesaidquietly,justtosayitoutloud.Shecouldn’thaveheardhim—itwasfartoo

noisyinthediningroom—buthesawhercheckslightlyashesaidhername.

Finally.Itwasn’tmuchanditcertainlywasn’twhathewasusedto,butitwasthereallthe

same.Aresponse.

Andwhatexactlyareyougoingtodowiththat?Whatthefuckareyouwantingfrom

her?

Didhehavetowantanything?Couldn’thesimplykeepdoingthis?Comingtotheshelter

everynight,talkingtoher,seeingwhatwouldgetaresponsefromher.Itwasadamnsight
moreinterestingthananyofthegamesheplayeduptown,withtheexperiencedsocialiteshe
normallygothimselfinvolvedwith.

Youshouldn’tbeplayingwithher.Shedoesn’tknowtherules.
Well,no,butitwasn’tlikehewantedherforsexoranything.Hewasonlycuriousabout

herandwantedtoseewhatmadehertick.Inmuchthesamewayashe’dmessedaroundwith
oldbitsofelectronicsandmachinerywhenhe’dbeenakid.Takingthemapartandputting
thembacktogether,orexplodingthingslikehe’ddonewithhischemistryset.

Yeah,she’snotachemistryset,dick.
Xavierleanedonthecounter,staringovertheheadsofthepeopleatthetables,focusing

ontheflashoforangetowardthebackoftheroom.

No,shewasn’t.Buthewasgoingtoenjoyplayingwithherallthesame.

***

Mialefttheshelterassoonasshecould,herheartbeatingfiercely,thefoodshe’deaten
settlinginherstomachlikealeadweight.

Snowswirledaroundherandshehadtotugthelapelsofherovercoatuptostopitfrom

blowingdowntheneckofhershirt.Butsomegotdownthereanyway,makinghershiver.

Shehatedbeingafraid,hatedthetrembling,quiveringemotionthattwistedinsideherlike

asnake.He’dbeenwatchingher,seenthefight,seentheoldmangrabherhatandpullit
down.He’dseenwhatshewaswearingunderneathandworsethanthat,heknewhername.

Howdidheknowthat?Wherehadheheardit?

Walkingfast,shelostherselfinthecrowdsonthesidewalk,puttingdistancebetweenher

andtheshelter.Everysooftenshe’dlookbehindher,justtocheckshewasn’tbeingfollowed.
Itwassomethingshedidanyway,notwantinganyonetoknowwhereherhidey-holewas,but
nowitseemedextraimportant.

Youthinkhe’sactuallygoingtofollowyou?
No,butthenpeopledidweirdthings.Youcouldn’ttrustthem,notanyofthem.
Shewentthelongwayaroundbacktoheralley,checkingbehindherthewholetime,but

noonefollowedandshemanagedtoslipbehindtheDumpsterunnoticed.

Snowhadfallenallaroundyetthegroundbeneathherwasdry,keptthatwaybythe

collapsedcardboardboxshe’dputovertheconcrete.Shehadanotherboxwedgedbetween
theDumpsterandthebuildingwallasakindofaceilingthatmostlykeptthesnowandrain
off.

Shehuddledinagainstthepipe,waitinguntilalittlebitofwarmthpenetratedthroughthe

layersshewore,relaxinghermusclesandeasingthefear.

Onceshefeltabitbetter,shepulledoffherorangehatandthenthebeanieunderneathit,

holdingitinherhands.Shestillcouldn’tgetenoughoftouchingit.Itwasonethesoftest
thingsshe’deverfeltinherlifeandsounbelievablywarmforsomethingsothin.Sheshould
havegottenridofit,ofcourse,butshehadn’tbeenabletomakeherselfdoit.Soshe’dhidden
itunderherorangehatinstead,hopingnoonewouldseeit.

Untilhehad.
Shestareddownatthesoftthinginherhands.Thecolorwassoblue,sodeep.Thecolor

ofhiseyes.Notthatsheshouldhavenoticedthat,butsincehiseyeshadbeenlooking
straightintohers,shecouldn’thelpit.

Sheshouldn’thavelookedup.Sheshouldhavekeptpretendinghewasn’tthere.But

somethinginsideherhadmadeherdoit,andshehadbeenunabletoresistthetemptation.

Tallandbroadinhisdarksuitandvividbluetie.Again,justlikehiseyes.
Whywasshenoticingstuffabouthim?Whywassheevenlettinghisexistenceregister?

She’dhardlybeenabletokeeplookingathim,he’dbeensoshinyandbrightandclean.He
wasthetypeofmanwhowalkedwithhisattentiononthesky,notonthegroundbeneathhis
feet.Hedidn’tseepeoplelikeher,thosetypesneverdid,sowhywashelookingathernow?

Shedidn’tlikeit.Itmadeherfeelantsyandrestlessand...wrong.
Herfingerscurledinthesoftwoolofthebeanie.Really,sheshouldgetridofit,throwit

intheDumpsterandforgetaboutit.Butshefoundherselfliftingitandputtingitbackonher
headallthesame.

Tomorrowmaybe.She’dgiveittosomeoneelse.
Shesleptpoorlythatnightandthenextdaywascold,snoweverywhere.Sometimesthe

coldmadefindingfoodeasysinceitdidn’tgobadasquicklyasitdidinthesummer,buther
usualhaunt,thetrashoutthebackofaStarbucks,hadbeenpickedoverearlyandtherewas
nothingleftforher.

Shedidn’tletitgettoher.Dayswerelikethatsometimes,andtherewasnothingtodobut

keepmovingon,keepthethingthatkepthergoingclearinherhead.

Anapartmentofherown.Itdidn’thavetobebig,hell,evenoneroomwasmorethanshe

hadnowafterall.Butsomethingthatwashers,thathadadoorshecouldcloseandalock.A
placethatwaswarmanddryandsafe,whereshedidn’thavetoworryaboutbeingmovedon

orattackedorwakingupsoakingwet,allofwhichhadhappenedtoheratonetimeor
another.

Sometimes,likenowwhenitwascoldandshewashungry,shewishedshehadn’tlefther

grandmother’s,butnotveryoften.Thestreetsweresaferinmanywaysandtheysuregave
herhellofalotlesscigaretteburns.

Thatafternoonshestoppedbytheshelter,wantingtoseeifTonyhadreceivedanymail

forher.Theyweretryingtogetherabirthcertificate,butweren’thavingmuchlucksinceshe
didn’tknowanyofhermother’sdetails.She’dleftMiawithhergrandmotherwhenshe’donly
beensevenandhergrandmotherhadn’texactlybeenforthcoming.Infact,theonlydetails
Miahadwerethathermother’snamewasRoseandshe’dbeenbornsomewhereupnorth.
Shedidn’tevenknowhersurnamesincehergrandmotherneverspokeaboutherdaughter.

Buttherewasnomail,Tonygivinghertheworried,sympatheticlookthatalwaysmade

herfeelunsettled.“I’mdoingasearchonbirthrecordsforyourmom,Mia,butwithouta
surnameoradate,orevenastate,it’sgoingtoberealtoughgoing.”

Therewasonealternativeofcourse.Thatwastotryandtrackhergrandmotherdown,see

ifshewasstillalive,andthengetthedetailsoffher.ButMiawouldratherhavediedthango
backtothatoldbitch,sosheonlystaredbackatTonyandnodded.“Iknow,”shesaid.“I’llsee
ifIcanrememberanything.”

Shehadn’tyetthough,andsheknewsheprobablywouldn’t.Butthatdidn’tkeepherfrom

tryinganyway,becauseonceshestoppedtryingshemayaswellbedead.Andtherewasno
wayshewasdyingonthestreets,nofuckingway.

“Hey,”Tonysaidasshewasonherwayout.“Mr.deSantiswasaskingafteryou.Doyou

knowwhy?”

“Mr.deSantis?”sheaskedautomatically.“Who’sthat?”
“Youdon’tknowhim?Theguywho’sbeenvolunteeringattheshelter.Therichone.”
TherecouldonlybeonemanTonymeant.Blueeyes,blackhair,cleansuit...
Miablinked,shookherhead,andwalkedout,herheartbeatingfaster.
Heknewhernameandnow,sheknewhis.Ofcourseshehadhisbeanie,whichmeanthe

stillhadmoreofaholdonherthansheonhim,butstill.Itwassomethingmorethanwhat
shehadbefore,alittlepieceofpower.

Thatnightshepeeredthroughthewindowsoftheshelterandsureenough,therehewas.

Mr.deSantis.Itwaschowdernightandhewasladlingoutchowder,smilingatthepeoplein
frontofhim.Butthatintense,demandingbluegazeofhiskeptsearchingthecrowd,looking
forsomething...

You.He’slookingforyou.
Shefeltbreathless.Afraid.Butnotthekindoffearthatcamewithcreepydudesfollowing

herandshoutingdisgustingthings,orthecoupleoftimesdrugged-upassholeshadpulleda
knifeonherandtakenherthings.No,thiswasdifferentandshecouldn’tputherfingeron
why.

Itmadeherevenmoreafraid,soshedidn’tgoin.Goinghungryforanightwouldn’tkill

her,thoughifitgotanycolder,shewasgoingtohavetorethinkthings.

Sureenough,thenextdayitdidgetcolderandshewasforcedtosidleinthedoorsofthe

shelter,needingfoodtokeepherwarmforthenight.Shewasalmostafraidtolookatthe
volunteersmanningthefoodstations,butsheforcedherself.Andblinked.

Becausehewasn’tthere.

That’sgood,isn’tit?
Yeah,itwasgood.Itwasverygood.Nowshedidn’thavetodealwiththatweirdfeeling

insideher,nowshecouldfeelsafeinheranonymity.Yetwhenshewentuptogetherfood,
shefelt...strange.Angryalmost.Angrythathewasn’tthere.

Irritatedwithherself,sheateherfoodandgotoutofthereASAP.He’dbebackthenext

nightprobably.Orifhewasn’t,itmeanthe’ddisappearedbackintohisstupidpenthouseor
whereverthehellpeoplelikehimwentbackto.Whichwasagoodthing,areally,reallygood
thing.

Hewasn’ttherethenextnightorthenext,andsheknewshe’dbeenright.He’dfinished

hisvolunteerworkandhadgonebacktothetowerspeoplelikehimlivedin.She’dneversee
himagain,whichwasperfect.Shedidn’tneedpeoplelikehimnoticingher.Shedidn’tneed
peoplenoticingherperiod.

Butthatstrangeangersatinsideherandshecouldn’tgetridofit.Andthemoreshe

thoughtabouthim,theworseitseemedtoget.

He’dgivenherahat.He’dshownhersomethingnew.He’dmadeher...want.
Wantingwasbad,wasn’tit?
Thenagain,withoutwant,shewouldn’thaveherhopeofahomeofherown,wouldshe?

Besides,gettingangrywithhimwaspointless,becauseshewasnevergoingtoseehimagain
anyway.

Thenextnighteverythingfrozeandwhenshewokeshewassocoldshecouldbarely

move.Eventhehotpipedidn’tseemtowarmherup.Sheknewwhatthatmeant;shewas
goingtohavetogototheshelteruntilitgotwarmer.

Theknowledgeputherinafoulmoodthewholeday,butsheknewbetterthantotryand

toughitout.She’ddonethatacoupleoftimesbeforeandhadnearlyfrozentodeath.Sothat
evening,asthesunwentdownandthecitystreetsbecameicy,shegatheredupthefew,
meagerbelongingsshehadandslowlymadeherwaytotheshelter.

Shealwaysapproacheditfromacrossthestreet,soshecouldcheckwhowasoutsideand

whatwashappeningbeforeshegotanywherenearit.Buttonightshewasdistracted,tryingto
braceherselfforanightofsleepinginthesameroomasawholelotofotherpeople,soshe
didn’tnoticeuntilshewasnearlyatthedoorsthatallthewindowsweredark.

Frowning,shetriedtopeerinside,butshecouldn’tseeanything.Goingovertothedoors,

shepushedexperimentallyatthem.Theyremainedfirmlyshut.Therewasanoticestuckto
thegrubbyglass.Shecouldread,thoughnotwell,anditwasdifficulttomakeoutthewords,
butthenoticeseemedtoannouncethattheshelterwasclosed.Therewasanaddress
underneathit,whichwasprobablytheaddressoftheshelterinUpperManhattan,butshe
didn’twanttogothere.She’dbeenattackedthelasttime,inthemiddleofthenighttoo,and
quitefrankly,she’dratherfacethecoldthanapossibleknifing.

Ifyousurvivethecold.
Miapulledherovercoatmorefirmlyaroundher,dismissingtheeverpresentclutchof

fear.No,she’dsurvive.She’djustfuckingwellhaveto,wouldn’tshe?

Thensomethingmadehergoutterlystill.
Ascentwrappingaroundher.Luxuriousandspicyandwarm.
“HelloMia,”saidadarkvoicefrombehindher.

Chapter3

XavierhadexpectedanumberofthingsonhisreturnfromWashington,buttocomeforhis
evening’svolunteerworkattheshelter,onlytofinditclosedwasnotoneofthem.Ithad
pissedhimoffmightilyforreasonshedidn’tquiteunderstand,especiallysincehehadn’t
wantedtodoleoutsloptohomelesspeopleinthefirstplace.

Then,justashewasgettingbackintohislimo,hisorange-hatcreaturehadturnedupand

suddenlyhismoodhadbecomeabouttenthousandtimesbetter.

Hedidn’tquestionthepleasedfeelingthatrolledthroughhimashewatchedherpeerat

thesignontheshelterdoor,araggedanddirtybackpackhangingfromoneshoulder.Only
leanedbackagainstthesideofthelimo,studyingherforamoment.

Shelookedsosmall,despitethemillionsoflayersshewasnodoubtwearingunderneath

thatmassivelytoo-bigovercoat.Herorangehatwaspulleddownlowonherhead,snow
sparklingontopofitandtheshouldersofherovercoat.

Itwascold.Freezingeven.Notanightforonesmallhomelesswomantobeoutandabout

withnoshelter.Sohe’dsaidhername,becausehedidn’twanthervanishingbackintothe
darknesslikeshe’dbeendoingeverynightsincehe’dmether.

Sheturnedaroundsharply,herdarkeyeswideningastheymethis.Thenshelookedaway,

herlashescomingdown,veilinghergaze.Onedelicatehandgrippedthestrapofher
disreputable-lookingbackpackandshebegantosidleaway.

Oh,no,shefuckingwasn’t.Nottonight.
Hesteppedtowardher,cuttingoffherescape,andshefroze,givinghimanotherwide-

eyed,warylook.

“No,”hesaidquietlyandveryfirmly.“You’renotgoinganywhere.Notinthisweather.”
Sheblinkedathimthenbackedawayslowlysoshestoodwiththeshelterdoorsdirectly

behindher.Buthedidn’tstop,hekeptoncoming,closerandcloseruntilhewasstanding
rightinfrontofher,blockingherexitentirely.

Herjawwenttightasshestaredstraightathischest,hergriponherbackpackwhite-

knuckled.

You’rescaringher,asshole.
Toobad.Hehadthesuspicionthatifheweretostepaside,she’dtakeoffintothenight

andhe’dneverseeheragain,whichwasn’thappening.

Itwasweirdbeingconcernedforanotherperson’ssafety,tofeelresponsibleforit,

especiallywhenhe’dneverfeltanythinglikeitbefore.But...somethinginhimcouldn’tlet
herleave.Notwithsnowfallingallaroundthemandtheirbreathinwhiteclouds,freezingin
thecoldnightair.

“Theshelter’sclosed,”hesaid,unnecessarilywhenitwasperfectlyfuckingobviousthe

shelterwasclosed.

Herheadturned,hergazedirectedatsomepointonthepavementofftohisleft.She

didn’tsayanything.

Jesus,couldsheevenspeak?Perhapsshecouldn’t.Perhapsshewasdeaf,ormaybeshe

couldn’tspeakEnglish.

“Youunderstand,right?”hepersisted.“There’sanothershelterthat’sopen,though.The

addressisonthatnotice.Icantakeyouthereifyou—”

“No.”Hervoicewaslightandhusky,asifshedidn’tuseitveryoften.
Heblinkedattheinterruption.Okaythen.Soshecouldspeak.“No,what?Noyoudon’t

wanttogoornoyoudon’twantmetotakeyouthere?”

Shegavehimthebriefestofglancesthroughherlashes.Itwasn’tflirtatiousinanyway

andyetsomehowhefeltthebrushofherattentionlikeaflameagainsthisskin.

“Both,”shesaid.
Right.Well,thatwasclear.Sadly,though,shewasn’tgoingtogetherway.“Theshelter’s

notfarandIhaveacar,”hesaid.“Icangiveyouaride.”

Sheshookherhead,lookingofftothesideagain.“Ineedtogo.”
“Yeah.Youneedtogototheshelterwithme.”
“No.”
Stubbornlittlething,wasn’tshe?
Xavierputhishandsinthepocketsofhisblackcashmereovercoat.“Noisnotanoption,

sweetheart.”

Shestiffened,givinghimanotherofthoselightning-fastglances.“I’mnotyour

sweetheart.Don’tcallmethat.”

Mesmerized,hewatchedascolorfloodintohersmall,narrowface,aflareofthatbright,

intenseenergyhe’dseeninherleapinghigh.Itwasfascinating,beautiful.Wherehadshe
comefrom?Andwhywasn’tshethesameasallthoseotherbeaten-downpeople?That
fierceness,thatdetermination...Wheredidshegetit?

“Okay,”hesaidafteramoment.“You’renotmysweetheart.You’reMia.AndI’m—”
“Mr.deSantis.Yes,Iknow.”
Hestaredather.“Howdoyouknow?”
“Tonytoldmewhoyouwere.Hetoldmethatyouwereaskingaboutme.”Shekeptgazing

offtotheside,asifshedidn’twanttolookdirectlyathim.

Ah.Tonymustbethevolunteerhe’dbeentalkingto,theonewho’dbeensuspiciousof

him.“Iwasonlyconcernedforyou,”heexplained,notsurewhyhewasjustifyinghimself
whenhe’dneverfelttheneedtobefore.“It’scold.Ididn’twantyououtthereinthesnow.”

Again,shesaidnothing,herhandwhite-knuckledonherbackpackasifshewasafraidhe

mighttakeitoffher.Notthathewouldsinceitlookedfilthyandprobablyhadnothinginitat
all.

Youdick.That’sprobablyallshe’sgotintheworld.
Xavierfrowned,struckonceagainbythecompletevulnerabilityofthiswoman.Bythe

factthatifshewashomeless,shewouldhavenothingbuttheclothessheworeandwhatever
wasinthatbackpack.Nohouse,nocar,nothings.Anditwashighlyunlikelyshehadajob
either.Allshehadwasthatgod-awfulovercoat,thathideousorangehatandthatshabby,
raggedbackpack.

Sheshouldbedesperate.Sheshouldbedespairing.Andyet...shejustfuckingwasn’t.

Shewas...fullofthatthinghedidn’thaveanamefor.

She’sasurvivor.
Yeah,shewas.Buthecouldn’tlethergooffintothenight,notwithouthelping,not

withoutdoingsomethingforher.Hedidn’tknowwhyhefeltthatway.Hejust...did.And

quitefrankly,ifshedidn’twanthishelp,thatwastoogoddamnbad.Shewasgoingtogetit
whethershelikeditornot.

“YoucancallmeXavier,”hesaidintothesilence.“Andit’stoocoldtobestandingaround

herearguing.Howaboutyougetintothecarandwecanargueinthereaboutwhichshelter
youwanttogoto.”

Sheshookherheadonce,quickly.
Xaviersighed.“Getinthecar,Mia.Iwon’thurtyou,Ipromise.”
Windswirledthesnowfallingaroundthem,slidingunderthethickwoolofhiscoatand

makinghimshiver.Christ,itwascold.Andhewaswearinganultrawarmcoat,sogodonly
knewhowcoldshemustbe.

Hefoundhimselfstaringatherhands.Shedidn’thaveanygloveson.Nowonderher

fingerswerewhite.Shemustbefuckingfreezing.Movingforwardwithoutthinking,he
reachedforherhand,onlyforhertorearbacksharply,bangingupagainsttheglassofthe
shelterdoors.

Instantlyhestopped.
Shehadherheadtippedback,staringathimfullinthefaceandtherewasahalf-scared,

half-determinedlightinherblackeyes.“TouchmeandI’llfuckingkillyou,”shesaidfiercely.
Thenshemoved,reachingforsomethingatherankle.Whenshestraightened,steelgleamed
inherhand.

Xavierlookeddownattheknifeshewasholding,andthistimehecouldn’thelpgrinning,

becauseiftherewasonethingheknew,itwasweapons.“Wheredidyougetthat?Fromthe
shelterkitchen?”

Herdark,narrowbrowsdrewdown.“Don’tcomeanycloser.Iknowhowtouseit.”
“I’msureyoudo.ButI’mafraidthat’snotgoingtodoanydamage.”Hegaveherasolemn

look.“Sorry,littleone,butthat’safruitknife.”

Herfrownbecameascowl.“I’veuseditbefore.”
“Onfruit?”
“Onaman.”Shewavedthebladeathim.“Icuthim.”
Xaviersincerelydoubtedthatshe’dmanagedtocutanyonewiththatpiece-of-shitblade.

“I’lltakeyourwordforit.Canwegetinthecarnow?I’mcold.”

“No.Leavemealone.”
Hegaveheranassessinglook.Howthehellwashegoingtogetherintothelimo?There

wastheoptionofsimplypickingherupandcarryingherthere,butshe’dprobablyscream
andhehadafeelingthathisfatherwouldn’tbetoopleasedifwordgotoutthatXavierhad
beenseenpickingupscreamingwomenandputtingtheminhiscar.Nomatterthatallhe
wantedtodowasgetheroutofthesnow.

Hethoughtamoment,thenstoodalittletotheside.“Youseethatlongblackcaratthe

curb?That’smine.”

Herwarygazedartedtothelimothenbacktohimagain.“So?”
“It’swarminthere.Verywarm.”
Sheshiftedonherfeet,lookingatthelimoagain.
“Ihavewhisky.Ialsohavegin.Infact,Ihaveprettymuchanyalcoholyoumightlikein

there.”

“Idon’tlikealcohol.”Butshedidn’tlookawayfromthecar.
Forallthathewasarancheratheart,Xavierhadalwaysbeengoodatclosingadeal,at

sensingwhenabuyerwaswaveringandonlyneededonesmallpushtomaketheright
decision.Andhecouldsenseitrightnow.Allheneededtodowasaddtheclincherandshe’d
behis.

“Mia,”hesaidsoftly.“It’scoldandit’swet,andtheshelterisclosed.Mycariswarmand

wedon’thavetogoanywhereifyoudon’twantto.Butlet’sgoandtalkaboutitthere,okay?”

Shestaredatthelimoforalongtime,thenflickedanotherofherintense,focusedglances

athim.“Youwon’ttouchme?”Shebrandishedthefruitknifeathimforgoodmeasure.

“No.Infact....”Slowly,veryslowlysoshedidn’tstartle,hebentandreachedforalittle

somethingofhisownthathealwayscarriedwithhiminasheathonhiscalf.

Shestiffenedwhenshesawit,buthemadenomovetowardherashestraightenedup.

Instead,hekepthisgazeonhers,flippedtheweapon,andhelditout,hiltfirst.

Partofhisfather’stwenty-firstbirthdaypresenttohim,thesamepresenthe’dgiventohis

threesonsandonedaughter.Ahandcrafted,limited-edition,DeSantis5Compact.Oneofthe
mostexpensiveandsoughtafterknivesontheplanet.

Somepeople’skidsgotcarsandjewelryfortheirtwenty-firstbirthday.
ThedeSantiskidsgotknivesandguns.
Mialookeddownattheknifeheheldout,hereyesgoingwide.
“Here,”hesaid.“Takeit.It’lldomoredamagethanthatfruitknife.”
Sheglancedupathim,thenbackattheknife.Anditlookedforasecondasifshemight

actuallyreachoutandtouchit.Hecouldseethatshewantedto;itwasrightthere,shiningin
herface.

Butthenallofasudden,thewantdisappeared,herexpressionclosinguplikeshutters

comingdownacrossthewindowsofahouse.“No,”shesaid.

Stupidly,hewantedtoinsist,butlikehe’dsensedherwaveringearlier,hecouldalsosense

thatnowwasn’tthetimetobeforcingknivesontoher.Soheonlyshrugged,puttheknife
backinitssheath,thenstraightenedandgesturedtothecar.“Afteryou.”

***

MialookedpastXavierdeSantis’stall,powerfulfiguretothesleek,shinyblackmachinethat
crouchedatthecurb.

Hehadalimo.Anactual,honest-to-Godlimo.
Whichmustmean,ofcourse,thathewasrich.
Herhandtightenedaroundthehiltoftheknifehe’dmadefunof,becauseifshedidn’t

trustclean,shiny,handsomemen,shetrustedrichmenevenless.Notthatshe’dmetanyrich
men.Thenagain,anymanwholivedinahouseandhadmorethanonesetofclotheswas
richcomparedtoher,sobythatestimation,she’dmetafew.

Shegavehimanotherwarylook.Thestreetlightswerebehindhim,hisfaceshadowed,

andeventhoughhewasstandingtotheside,givingherplentyofroomtoescapeifshe
wantedto,itfeltlikehetookupthewholeofthesidewalk.

Hewassotallandtherewassomethingabouthimthatmadeherawareofeveryinchof

spacehetookup.Shedidn’tknowwhatthatwasabout.Hewasthreatening,butnotinthe
usualwayguyswerethreatening.Whateveritwas,itmadetheuneasinessshefeltaround
himevenworse.

Hergutinstincttoldherthatgettingintothecarwithhimwouldbeagiantmistake,and

yetintellectuallysheknewthatstandingoutonthesidewalkinthecoldwasn’tagoodidea
either.Sheneededfoodandsheneededtogetwarm.She’dlostherglovesadayorsoagoand
thatwasprovingaproblemtoo,soeithershegotinthecarlikehe’dsaidorsheleftandwent
backtoherlittleplacebehindtheDumpster.

Ifhelethergo,ofcourse.
Hedidn’tsayanything,watchingherwithasharp,intensegaze.Theblueofhiseyes

lookedevendarker,likethewaytheskylookedinthemiddleofthenightwhenshecouldn’t
sleep,andshenoticed,forthefirsttime,thatheseemedtobehummingwithastrangekind
ofenergy.Likeacatgoingstilljustbeforeitpounced.

Andyou’rethemouse.
Herspinestiffened.Shewasn’tadamnmouse.Hecouldlaughallhewantedatherabout

herknifeforexample,butthatdidn’tmeanshewasdefenseless.Shewasn’tgoingtolet
herselfbethreatenedbyanyone,andshesureashellwouldn’tletthemmakeherfeel
ridiculousorstupid.

Hedidn’tknowherlifeorwhatshedealtwitheveryday.Thatknife,forinstance,had

enabledhertogetawayfromthemenwho’dcorneredheronenightsixmonthsago,taking
allherstuffandnearlymakingheranotherofNewYork’smurderstatistics.Butshe’dgotten
oneofthebastardsinthegutbeforehe’dmanagedtohitherhimself,makinghimdropher
andlettingherescape.

Thatknifehadensuredhersurvival,soshedidn’tgiveashitifhethoughtitwasfunnyor

anythingelse.

“Ifyouwanttomakeadecision,anytimenowisgood,”hesaid,hisvoiceassoftandas

deepasthenightitself,yetaboutamilliontimeswarmer.“I’mfreezingmyassoff.Justso
youknow.”

Mialetoutasoftbreath.Okay.Shecouldgetinthecarformaybefiveminutes,warmher

handsandtherestofherselfup.Thenperhaps,ifhewasinsistentaboutgivingheraride,
she’dtellhimtodropheroffattheothershelter.Thenshe’ddoublebacktoheralleyway.
Thatwasn’tgoingtosolvetheproblemaboutwhereshewasgoingtosleepforthenextfew
nights,butshe’ddealwiththatissueinthemorning.

“Justforfiveminutes,”shesaidcautiously.
Hegaveheragravenod.“Sure.Fiveminutes.”
Shekeptholdoftheknifeasshemovedovertothecar,mainlybecauseherfingerswere

socoldshecouldn’tactuallyloosenhergrip.Hefollowed,thedarkintensityofhispresence
atherbackmakingherfeeljumpy.Buthedidn’tmakeanysuddenmovestowardherlikehe
hadbackinthedoorwayoftheshelter,onlyreachingouttopullopenthedoorofthelimofor
her.

Shepeeredcautiouslyintotheinterior,butitwasprettydarkandshecouldn’tsee

anything.

“It’sokay,”hesaid.“There’snothingintherebutleatherandalcoholandacoupleof

Penthousemagazines.”

Shebarelyheardhim.Warmthwasflowingoutofthecar,warmthlikenothingelseshe’d

everfelt.Itwasn’tthemuggy,sourwarmthoftheshelterwhenitwasfullofpeople,orthe
hard,dryheatofthepipeshehuddleduptoatnight.Itwaslikeathick,softblanketshecould
rollherselfupinandneverfeelcoldagain.

Dangerous.
Likeshedidn’tknowthatalready.Thenagain,itwasonlyfiveminutes.Shecouldhandle

fiveminutes.

Gettingintothecar,sheedgedawkwardlyovertowardthewindowsontheotherside,

thenloweredherselfdownontotheedgeoftheseat.Itwaslikesittingonacloud.Shetensed,
notwantingtoletherweightresttooheavilyonitincaseshegotthecaramel-colorleather
dirty.

Thenshetensedevenfurtherasthewarmthrolledoverher,seepingthroughtheovercoat

shewore,crawlingbeneaththehemofherdirtyjeans,soakingthroughthecanvasofher
rattysneakers.Somuchwarmth.Itmadeherafraid,madehernotwanttomoveoreven
relax,becauseifshedid,she’dknewshe’dneverwanttoleave.She’dwanttostayrighthere
inthiscartilltheendoftime.

Sheshivered,keepingherhandstightinherlap,herfingerscurledaroundherknife,her

gazestraightahead.Therewasascentintheair,athick,luxurioussmelllikeleatherand
spice,anditmadeherwanttoliedownonthosesoftseatsandclosehereyesandsleepfor
daysanddays.

Butshecouldn’t.Shecouldn’tgivein,becausethiswasn’treal.Thedarknessandthecold

andthestreets,theywereherreality.Andatallrichmaninatallrichman’scar,didn’thave
anythingtodowiththatreality.

Hewasgettingintothecarnow,thehemofthatthickovercoatbrushingovertheseats,

andshealmostputoutherhandtotouchit,onlystoppingherselfatthelastmoment.Instead
shesattherestifflyasthedoorslammedafterhim,shuttingoutthenightandthefreezing
dark,enclosingherinthewarmthofthelimointerior.

Hemovedtositoppositeher,leaningbackagainsttheseats,allloose-limbedandrelaxed,

hisarmsoutstretchedalongthebackrest,hislonglegsextendedandcrossedattheankles.
“There,”hesaid,hismouthcurvingintoasmilethatmadeherstomachcurl.“That’sbetter
isn’tit?”

Shedidn’tknowifitwas.Sure,itwaswarm,butthatdidn’tmakeherfeelbetterand

neitherdidhe.Forsomereasonheseemedevenbiggerinthecarthanhehadoutinthe
street,asifhewastakingupalltheairandallthespace.

Hisovercoathadfallenopen,revealingthedarksuitheworeunderneath.Hisbusiness

shirtwasadeep,intenseblue,andacoupleofthetopbuttonswereundone.Sincehewasn’t
wearingatie,shecouldseeawedgeofsmooth,tannedskin.

Quickly,sheglanceddownatherhandsinstead,herheartbeatingoddlyfast.
Lookingathimmadeherheadhurt,madeherfeelunsettledandantsy.Hewassoclean,

soexpensive.Hemadeherfeelacutelyself-consciousinawayshe’dalmostforgotten.Aware
ofhowdirtyherclotheswereandhowtheyprobablysmelled.Ofhowhershoesdidn’tfitand
therewereholesinherjeansandinherovercoat.Ofhowpoorandsmallandvulnerableshe
was.

“Youcanrelax,youknow.”Hisvoicewassoftinthequietofthecar.“LikeIsaid,I’mnot

goingtohurtyou.”

Yeah,well,hedidn’tknowthathealreadyhad.Themomenthe’dlookedather,givenher

attention,thenthathat,he’dhurther.Becausewantingthingsshecouldn’thavealwayshurt.

“Youcantakemetotheshelteruptown,”shesaid,notrelaxingoneiota.“IfwegonowI

cangetdinner.”Notthatshewould.She’dwaituntilhe’dgone,thenshe’dtryforafreeride

onthesubwaybacktoheralleyway.

Youcan’t.Youneedgloves.Youneedfood.Stayingoutsidetonightwouldbestupid.
Yes,well,whatchoicedidshehave?Shedidn’twanttostaythenightinthatshelter,not

whenshe’dbeenpawedatandhadherthingsstolentheonetimeshe’driskedit.

Youmightbepawedatbutatleastyouwouldn’tfreezetodeath.
Hesighedandshifted,leaningforward,hiselbowsonhisknees,hishandsclasped

betweenthem.“Youreallywanttogothere?”

Sheswallowed.Hewassittingverynearandshewasn’tusedtobeinginsuchclose

proximitytoanotherhumanbeing.Thatexpensive,luxuriousscentofhiswasmakingher
headspin,andthewayhewassittinghadbroughthislegclosetohers,makingherawareof
hiswarmth.

“Yes,”shesaidthickly,tryingtoignoreallthesensationspullingather,holdingherself

evenmorestiffly.“Ineedsomedinner.”

Therewasasilence.
Hewasstaringatheragain,shecouldfeelit.
“Ihaveabetteridea,”hemurmuredatlast.
Miatensed,everymuscleinherbodygoingevenstifferthantheyalreadywere.Therewas

anoteinhisvoice,anotesherecognized.Itwasthesoundofsomeonewhowasgoingtotry
andhelpher,andiftherewasonethingsheknewaboutthepeoplewhotriedtohelp,itwas
thatinevitablytheyonlyendedmakingherlifeworse.

“Aren’tyougoingtoaskmewhattheideais?”Hesoundedpleasedwithhimself,asifhe

thoughtshewasgoingtolovewhateveritwashewasgoingtosuggest.

Sheshookherhead,concentratingonherhandsinherlap.Theyhurtnowasdidherfeet,

thewarmthpenetratingherfreezingskin,sharppinsandneedlesjabbingher.

“Right,”hewenton.“Well,you’regoingtohearitanyway.Youcouldgotothatshelterif

youwant.Or...youcouldcomebacktomyapartmentandyoucanhavedinnerthere.”

“No,”shesaidflatly,notgivingherselfanytimetothinkabout,becausetherewasno

thinkingaboutit.Sheknewwherethiswasgoing.

“No?”heechoed.“Justlikethat,no?”
Shelookedup,givinghimonehardfierceglance.“Yeah,justlikethat.”
Hisgazewassteady,direct,andhedidn’tlookaway.Thelightfromthestreetoutside

illuminatedhisface,allthoseperfectplanesandangles,likethefacesoftheangelsshe’d
seenonthetopofgravesinthecemetery.“Idon’tknowthatI’mgoingtogiveyouachoice
aboutthis,Mia.”Eventhoughhisvoicewassoft,shecouldhearthehardsteelinit.“It’scold
outside.Infact,it’sfreezing.Youshouldn’tbeonthestreetstonight.”

Alittlesurgeofangerwentthroughher.Shedidn’ttakekindlytobeing“helped”atthe

bestoftimes,andwhenhemadeitsoundlikeanorder,shelikeditevenless.

He’sright,though.
Still,justbecauseshewashomelessandpoor,didn’tgivehimtherighttotellherwhatto

do.“Iwon’tbe,”shesnapped.“Iwasgoingtostayintheshelterforthenight.”

Hisgazedroppedtothebackpackthathadslippedoffoneshoulderandwasrestingonthe

seatbesideherthenreturnedtoherface.“Andthenwhat?”

Shedidn’tunderstandwhathewastalkingabout.“ThenIwakeupandleave.”
“Whataboutthenextnight?”
“That’snoneofyourbusiness.”

“No,”headmittedeasily,“butnowI’mmakingitmybusiness.”
“Why?”Shedidn’tlookawaythistimeeither,staringhardathim,becausetherehadtobe

areasonwhyamanlikehimwasbotheringwithawomanlikeher,andonlyonereasonwas
springingtomind.“Doyouwantsex?”

Chapter4

Xavierblinked,strugglingwiththerealyethighlyunfairurgetolaugh.Becauseseriously?
Sex?Withher?

Shewassittingboltuprightontheseatoppositehim,hershouldershunched,herhands

claspedinherlaparoundherridiculousknife,obviouslyuncomfortable.Withherhorrible
orangehat,hideousbrownovercoat,dustydirtyjeans,andsoakedsneakers,he’dneverseena
womanwholookedlesslikeasexobject.

Butherdarkeyeswerefixedonhim,allfierceandburning,andforsomereasontheurge

tolaughdrainedcompletelyaway.Therewasacuriousdignitytoher,thekindheboth
wantedtopreserveyetmessaroundwithalittletoo.

No,hedidn’twanttohavesexwithher.Thethoughthadnevercrossedhismind,butthe

wayshewaslookingathimwasalmostchallenging,andhecouldworkoutifitbecauseshe’d
bemadifhesaidyes,ormadifhesaidno.

Sohedidn’tlaugh.Instead,heallowedhimselfamomenttoconsidertheidea,tolookat

herasawomanhemightbeinterestedphysicallyin.

Shehadgoneverystill,thefinelineofherjawlifted.Hercheekbonesweresharpand

slightlyhollowed,whichindicatedshedidn’teatveryoften,andshereallywasn’tprettyinthe
conventionalsense.Butshewasstriking.Hereyes,forastart,wereamazing,andthelong,
darklashesthatframedthemwereblackandsilkyandthick.Hermouth,too,wasvery
promising,withasoft,fullbottomlip,redandchappedfromthecold.

Somethingkickedunexpectedlyinsidehim,apulseofwhatsurelycouldn’tbedesire.
Itunsettledhim,becausehemightbeanassholewithahealthydisrespectforauthority

andanunhealthyinterestinfiringgunsandblowingshitup,butevenhedrewthelineat
forcingahungry,freezinghomelesswomanintogivinghimsex.

Lettingoutabreath,heleanedbackinhisseatagain.“No,”hesaidfinally.“Idon’twant

sex.That’snotwhyI’minterestedinwhatyou’redoing.”

Hergazenarrowed,asifshedidn’tbelievehim.“Thenwhyareyou?”
Ifhe’dbeenadifferentman,hemighthavebeenannoyedatherassumptionthathewas

thekindofmanwho’dforceawomanintosex.Buthewasn’tthatkindofman.Givenher
situation,sheprobablyexperiencedthatsortofshitallthetime,sonowondershewas
distrustful.He’dprobablyfeelthesameinhershoes.“BecauseIdon’tliketheideaofyou
freezingtodeathinanalleywaysomewhere.”

Thefiercenessinhereyesdidn’tlessen.“Lotsofpeoplefreezetodeathinalleyways,butI

don’tseethemsittinginthecarwithme.”

“Maybeifthey’dbeenstandingintheshelterdoorwaywithyoujustnow,theymightbe.”

Whichwasalie.Oh,hewouldhavehelpedthemout,seenthemsafelytothenextshelter,no
question,buthewouldn’thaveofferedthemaride.Wouldn’thaveofferedtotakethemback
tohispenthouse.

Itwasonlyherhewasinterestedin.Onlyherhewascuriousabout.
Shelookeddownatherhandsagain,herposturehunchedandstiff.

Theassumptionhewantedherforsexhadn’tannoyedhim,butthewayshewassitting

did.He’dthoughtshe’dbehappierhereinthelimo,outofthesnowandoutofthecold,yet
apparentlynot.

Why?Didshestillthinkhewasgoingtohurther?
Ormaybegettingintosomerichasshole’slimoisjustalittleoverwhelming.Didyouever

thinkofthat?

Actually,hehadn’t.
Xavierfrowned,givingheranother,closerlook.Herclotheswerefilthy,thehemsonher

jeansandtheedgesofherovercoatsleevessoakedandfrayed.Hersneakerslookedlikethey
mighthaveoncebeenbrightred,butnowwereadirtypurple.Thesoleononefootwas
startingtocomeaway,andhecouldseebythegleamofmoistureonthemthattheywerealso
soaked.

JesusChrist,shemustbefreezing.
Hesatforwardandreachedforherhandwithoutthinking.
Sheflinched,rearingbacklikeshehadinfrontoftheshelterdoors,herknifeattheready.

Butthistimeheignoredit,takingherhandinhisandclosinghisfingersaroundit.Herskin
wasicycold.

“Don’t,”heorderedquietlyasshetriedtosnatchherhandback.“IfI’dwantedtohurtyou

Iwouldhavedoneitalready.”

Therewassomethingwildinhereyesthatremindedhimofananimalcaughtinatrap,

andheknewheshouldlethergo.Butherhandwassocold.Heonlywantedtowarmitup.

Soheheldonasherarmtensedandshetriedtopullitaway,tighteninghisgrip.“Mia.”

Hekepthisvoicelow,puttingallhisauthorityintoit,andsureenough,herwildblackeyes
cametohis.“Staystill.You’refreezing.”

Shegaveaconvulsiveshiver,asifbysayingitaloud,he’dmadeittrue.“Don’t,”shesaid

faintly.“Don’ttouchme.”

Heignoredthattoo,extractingherlittlefruitknifeandthrowingitdownontheseat

beforetakingherotherhandaswell,closingbothofhisaroundhers.Herhandswerevery
small,withlongdelicatebones,sohewascarefulashebegantochafethemgentlytoget
somewarmthbackintothem.

Hereyeshadgonewide,staringdownatwherehishandsheldhers.“Whatareyou

doing?”

“Hopefullywarmingyourhandsup.Youweren’twearinggloves.Whichisn’tagoodmove

onanightliketonight.”

“Ilostthem.”Hervoicehadgonefaint.“Don’tdothat.”
Hepaidnoattention,concentratingontheslightlyroughenedskinbeneathhisfingers.

“Sillygirl,”hemurmured,rubbinggently.“You’llgetfrostbiteifyou’renotcareful.”

Whatthehellareyoudoing?Sittingthererubbingahomelesswoman’shands?You’re

notsupposedtobegivingashit.Infact,you’refamousforit.

Buthedidn’tmuchcareabouttheanswertothatquestion,soheignoredit.Becausewhat

diditmatterwhathewasdoing?Whatwasmoreimportantwasthatshegetwarmandget
somefood.Hell,sheneededabath,andabedtoo,andhecouldprovidethat.Infact,he
wantedto.

“You’recominghomewithme,Mia.”Heleftnoroomforargument.“I’llgiveyoudinner

andthenyoucanstaythenightwithme.”

Shewasshakingherheadalready,pullingatherimprisonedhands.“Justtakemetothe

shelter.”

“No.”Becausetherewasnoway,justnofuckingway,hewaslettinghergo.Nottothe

shelterandcertainlynotoutontothestreet.“I’mnotexpectinganythingfromyou,trustme
onthis,andI’vegotmorethanenoughroom.Youcanpickyourbedroomandoneofthem
hasamassivetub.Youcoulddrownanelephantinit,I’mnotevenkidding.”

Butshekeptshakingherhead,herarmstense.
Sohekeptonrubbinggentlyatherhands,becauseifshecouldbestubborn,thensocould

heandhewasnotmovingonthis.Notoneiota.“You’reseriouslyturningdownahotbath?
Inahugetub?”Heslidhisthumbsupandoverthebacksofherhandsthendownagain,over
andover.“Ithasjets,Mia.Jets.”

Whyisthissoimportanttoyou?Whydoyouhavetokeepinsisting?
Hereallydidn’tknow,nordidhecare.Itwassimplythatoverthecourseofthepast

coupleofweeksattheshelter,he’dbecomefascinatedwiththisstrange,intensewomanand
he’dstartedtothinkofherashis.Andhedidn’thavemuchthatwashis,notwheneverything
wasprovidedforhimbyhisfather.Agoodthingreally,sincehewasn’tacarefulman,not
withanything.Hisstufftendedtogetblownuporusedfortargetpracticeordiscarded
carelessly,likehe’ddonewithhistoyswhenhe’dbeenakid.

She’snotoneofyourtoys,dick.
Obviously.Andhewasn’tgoingtotreatherasoneeither.
Herjawfirmed,andsuddenlyshejerkedherhandsawayfromhis.“Idon’tneedabath,”

shesaidflatly.“Itrytohaveashowereverydayattheshelter.”

Lookedlikehe’doffendedher.Pricklylittlething.Atleastherfingershadstartedtofeel

warmerthough,sohemadenomovetokeepholdofthem,leaninghiselbowsonhisknees
instead.“Wellyoumight.Butyourclothesdefinitelyhaven’t.”

Thatsoftsweetmouthofherswenttight,herdarkbrowsdrawingdown.
Yeah,shewasoffendedallright.Toobad,though.Herclothesweredirty,theyprobably

neededtogointhetrash.“Hatetobreakittoyou,”hewenton,becauseshe’dgonesilent
again,“butalthoughyoumightbeclean,yourclothesarenot.Andnotonlyaretheydirty,
they’rewettoo,whichisn’texactlyconducivetokeepingyouwarm.”

Shelookeddownatherhands.“Icangetmore.”
“Morewhat?”
“Clothes.ThesheltergivesmewhateverIneed.”
“Goodforthem,butifithasn’tescapedyournotice,theshelterisclosed.Theycan’t

exactlygiveyouanythingrightnow.”

“Theoneuptowncan.”
Christ.Hedidn’thavealotofpatience—oncehe’dmadeadecisionhewentwithitand

didn’toveranalyzeorrethink.Thenagain,he’dnevermadeadecisiontotakeahomeless
womanhomebefore.

Maybeyoushouldrethink?Becausedon’tkidyourselfyoudon’tknowwhatthisisall

about.

Irritationtwistedinhisgut,butheignoredit.Thiswasnotabouthismother.Sure,she’d

neveracclimatedtothemovetoNewYorkwhenhisfatherhaddraggedhertoManhattan
fromWyoming,andhadprobablyhadundiagnoseddepressionforyears—hisfatherdidn’t
believeinpsychoanalysisorshrinks—butthathadnothingtodowithhimorthe

monumentalscrew-uphe’dmadeofhermeticulouslyplannedChristmasparty.

No,hersuicidewasallherownwork.
“Listen,”hesaid,thistimenotbotheringtohidehisimpatience.“Idon’tgiveashitwhat

theshelteruptowncandoforyou.You’recominghomewithmeandthat’sfinal.”

Sparksignitedinhereyes.“I’llcallthepolice.Don’tthinkthatIwon’t.”
“Ohyeah?”Hegaveherapointedonce-over.“Withwhat?YourlatestiPhone?”
Herexpressionflickeredandhesupposedheshouldhavefeltlikeaprickforreminding

herofherpositionsoblatantly.Buthedidn’t.Heonlywantedtohelp,andshewasbeing
ridiculous.

Right.Somerichguyshedoesn’tknowsuddenlypullsherintohislimoandoffersabed

forthenight.Youdon’tthinkthatmightmakeheralittlewary?

Well,sure.Buthedidn’twanttosithereforevermakingherun-wary.Theycouldhave

thisconversationbackathisapartmentwherehecouldatleastgetsomefoodintoher.Ifhe
hadfood,thatwas.Hehadn’tbeenhomealotthepastcoupleofweeks,afterall.Thenagain,
Mrs.Thomas,hishousekeeper,usuallymadesuretherewasatleastsomethinginthefridge.

Miahadlookedawayagain,sayingnothing,buthecouldsenseheroutrage.Herwhole

bodywasrigidwithit.

Hesighed.Okay,sohedidn’thavealotofpatience,buthecouldatleasttrytoholdonto

whatlittlehehad.“Let’sforgetIsaidthat.”Hekepthisgazeonhernarrow,fine-bonedface.
“Butthinkaboutit,Mia.I’mnotexpectinganythingfromyouandIpromisenottotouchyou
again.AllI’mofferingisanightatmyplace,nostrings.Faceit,that’samuchbetteroffer
thantheshelter,right?Youcanhaveyourownroom,andrememberthatbath?I’mnot
kiddingaboutthejets.”

Asasalespitchitwasn’thalfbad,evenifhedidsaysohimself.Whichhedid.
Herlashescamedown,veilingherblackeyes,andshesaidnothing,goingquietonhim

again.

Jesus,whatdidshewantfromhim?
Frustrated,hethoughtforamoment,thenbent,reachingdownforhisknifeagain.He

tookitoutofthesheathandthistimehedidn’twaitforhertakeit,butlaiditgentlyinher
lapinstead.

Herlashescamebackupagainsharply,herinkyeyesmeetinghisinsurprise.
“Foryourprotection,”hesaid.“IfIcomeanywherenearyou,youcancutmewithit.”Her

mouthopened,butheheldupahand.“AndIdon’twanttohearanythingaboutthatstupid
excuseforaknifeyou’recurrentlycarryingaroundwithyou.Keepmineforthenightatleast.
Youcangiveitbacktometomorrow.”

Hermouthclosed.Thenshelookeddownatthelengthofsmooth,gleamingsteelhe’dlaid

inherlap.Sheliftedahand,herfingertentativelytouchingtheplain,carvedwoodofthehilt.
Itwasn’tanythingfancy,theDeSantis5Compact,butthenagoodknifewasn’t.Itwassimply
beautifullymade,expertlybalanced,andwithanedgesharpenoughtocutsilkcleanthrough.

Hewatchedherfaceasshegazedattheknife,sawtheexpressionthatsweptoverher

features.Itcaughtathimlikeafishhookcatchingonarock.Becausehethoughtitlooked
likelonging,oryearning,whichwasastrangeemotiontohavewhenlookingataknife.

Thensheletoutabreathandlookedupathimfinally.“Fine.I’llcome.Butjustforthe

night,okay?”

***

WhenXavierdeSantis’slimopulleduprightoutsideoneofthosesoaringglass-and-steel
skyscrapers,justliketheonesshe’dgazeupatfromthesafetyofheralleyway,Miawondered
ifshehadn’tmadeyetanothermassivemistake.

Becausereally?Thiswaswherehelived?
Shepeeredoutofthewindowasthelimorolledtoastop,hergazetravelingupallthat

glass,tryingtoseethetopofit.

Yeah,thiswasdefinitelyamistake.She’dthoughtshe’dbeabletohandlewhereverhewas

takingherto,nothavinganyrealideaofwherethatwouldbe,buthey,abedwasabedanda
bathwasabath,right?Andalthoughshewaswaryaboutacceptinganythingfromhim,she
wasn’tstupid.Shecouldn’tstayanightonthestreets,notinwetclothesandinthiscold.
Whichmeantheronlyalternativewastheshelteruptown.Butshedidn’tfeelsafethereand
thethoughtofspendingthenighttherefilledherwithdread.

XavierdeSantishadthengivenherathirdoptionand,shehadtoadmit,itwasthebest

one.Shehadnoideawhatabathwithjetswaslike,butthethoughtofhavingherownroom
andbeingoutofthecoldwastooattractivetopassup.

Dangerous,though.Don’tforgetyoucan’tkeepit,youcan’teverkeepit.Notunlessit’s

yours.

Oh,sheknewthat.Sheknewthatalltoowell.Thiswasonlyforanight,liketheknifein

herlapwasonlyforanight.Butinaway,that’swhyitwasacceptable.Ifitwasonlyfora
night,shecouldn’tgettooattachedtoit.Andanyway,whenherchoiceswerefreezingto
deathorbeingattackedbyabunchofassholeshighonmeth,stayingthenightinsomerich
guy’shousewasaprettygoodoption.

Hell,ifhe’dinsistedonsex,shemightevenhavegivenittohim.
Sheshothimasurreptitiousglanceashepressedabuttononthepartitionbehindhim,

talkingtothelimodriverthroughanintercom.

He’dtoldherno,hewasn’tgoingtoinsistonsexandshe’dbeenrelieved,shecouldn’t

denyit.Therehadbeengirlsshe’dknownwhosoldtheirbodiesinreturnformoneyand
variousotherthings,butshe’dneverwantedtodoitherself.Sofar,she’devenmanagedto
avoidsexualassaultandtheothernastinessthatcamethewayofanywomanlivingonthe
streetsalone.

Sheknewthatwasluckandthateventuallyherluckwouldrunout.Thatshe’deitherend

upgivinghervirginitytosomeguyformoney,orshe’dbeattackedandhaveittakenfromher
bysomeguybyforce.Quitefrankly,thatmadethewholeselling-yourself-for-moneything
almostreasonable,becauseatleastitwouldbeherchoice.Andatleastshe’dgetsomething
outofit.Butshehadn’tquitebroughtherselftotakethatstepyet.

AskingMr.deSantisifhewantedsexfromherhadfeltweird,especiallywhen

intellectuallysheknewthatheprobablywouldn’t.Aguylikehimwouldhavehispickof
beautifulwomendrippinginjewelsorwhatever,andthelastthinghe’dwantisher.Butstill,
sheneededtoask,justtogetitoutthere.

Whatifhe’dsaidyes?
Sheeyedhim.
Hewasissuinginstructionsorsomething,shewasn’treallypayingattentiontowhathe

wassaying,andmaybethedriverhadsaidsomethingfunny,becausehelaughed.Thesound
madehertense,inthesamewaythewarmthofthecarandthegiveoftheseatunderherhad
madehertense.Itwasa...roughsound,yetsofttoo.Deep.Kindofsilky,likefur.Likethe
thickblacklashesthatframedtheintenseblueofhiseyesandthethickblackhairthathe
wasrunninghisfingersthroughjustnow,spikingitup.

Thecornersofhiseyescreased,hislongmouthcurlinginasmile.
Somethingshudderedinsideher,asifshewereatreeandsomeonehadjustlandedanax

blowtohertrunk.

Shetorehergazeawayandstaredattheglassfacadeofthebuildinginstead,tryingnotto

takeanynoticeofthedisturbingfeeling.Lightsglowedbehindtheglass,warmand
welcoming.

She’dwalkedpastbuildingslikethisonemanytimes,yetshe’dnevergoneinsideanyof

them.Once,whenshe’dbeenyoungerandithadbeencold,she’dtriedtogointooneofthose
bigdepartmentstorestogetwarmforacoupleofminutes,buthadbeenyelledatbythe
doormanbeforeshe’devenmanagedtostepthroughthedoors.

Afterthat,she’dkeptherdistance.Shedidn’twanttobewhereshewasn’twantedandshe

certainlydidn’twanttobeyelledat.

Asiftopunctuatethat,thelimodoorsuddenlyopened,lettinginaburstoffrigidair.She

almostgaspedasithither.

Gettingsoftalready,huh?
Miabitdownonthesound,steelingherselfasthecoldwentstraightthroughherwet

shoesandjeans,thesleevesofherovercoatbrushingdamplyagainstherfingers.Yes,God,
thiswaswhyshecouldn’trelaxintoanyofthis,couldn’tjusttakethemomentsofcomfort
shehad.Becausewhentheyweregone,itmadetherealityofhersituationsomuchharder.

Alternatively,itcouldgiveyousomethingtoaimfor.
Thatwastrue.Becauseitwasn’tasifsheacceptedtherealityofthestreetseither.Sure,

shelivedthatrealityeveryday,butthatdidn’tmeansheaccepteditaspermanent.She
wantedmorethanthatandsheintendedtohaveit.

Notthatshe’deverhavethisglass-and-steelbuildingorthesoftleatherwarmthofthe

limo.Butshecouldhavesomethingthatwashers.Thatwasn’taspotbehindaDumpsterin
analleyway.

“We’rehere.”Xavier’sdeepvoicebehindher.Tooclose.
Shemoved,gettingoutofthecarandsteppingontothesidewalk.Atallmaninauniform

washoldingthecardooropenforher,whichwasreallystrange.Noonehadeverheldadoor
openforherbefore.Hesmiledathertooandshedidn’tknowwhattosaysoshesaid
nothing,staringinsteadatthebigbuildinginfrontofher.

“Myplaceisrightatthetop,”Xaviersaidcasuallyashecametostandbesideher.“You’ll

likeit.Gotviewsforever.”

Shetippedherheadbacktoseewhatshehadn’tbeenabletointhecar—thetopofthe

buildingpushingupwardintothenightsky.Andanodddizzyfeelingcaughther,likeshewas
fallingupwardintotheblacknessaboveherhead.Sheswayed,forasecondovercome,and
thenfeltsomethingwarmandstrongandsteadyingsettleinthesmallofherback.Xavier’s
hand.

Herbraintriedtotellhermusclestostiffenandflinchaway,butnothingwasobeyingher

atthisparticularmomentintime.Instead,horribly,shefeltherselfleanagainstthathandas

ifsheneededitforsupport.

“It’sokay.”Thequietcertaintyinhisvoicewoundaroundher,soothingsomethinginside

her.“Takeaminute.”

Butshedidn’twanttotakeaminute.Shewantedhimnottobetouchingherbecauseshe

didn’tlikeallthesenewfeelingscrowdingforspaceinsideher.Didn’tlikehowsomedeep
partofherwantedtoleanfurtherbackintohishandandtakethesupporthewasgivingher.
Whichwasstupidanddumb.Trustnoone,hadn’tshelearnedthatoverandoveragain?

Ittookefforttopullawayfromhimanditwasfarharderthanshewantedittobe.And

whenshedid,therewasacoldspotwherehishandhadbeen,asifherbodymissedthe
warmth.

No,stupidanddumbtothinklikethat.Justlikeshewasstupidanddumbfornoteating,

becausethat’swherethedizzinesshadcomefrom,noquestion.

“Yousaidyouwouldn’ttouchme,”shesnapped,puttingmorespacebetweenthem.
“Sorry.”Hesoundednotsorryatall,amusementglitteringinhisblueeyes.“Ididn’tthink

you’dwanttofalloverontothepavementandcrackyourheadopen.”

Shegavehimafiercelook.Hewaslaughingatherandshedidn’tunderstandwhy.What

wassofunnyaboutnotwantingtobetouched?

Hesoberedafteramoment.“Iapologize.Seriously.Nowcomeon,let’sgoinsideandget

yououtofthosewetclothes.”Apause,andforasecondthatamusementwasback.“Doyou
know,that’sthefirsttimeI’veeversaidthattoawomanandliterallymeantthatsheneeded
togetoutofherwetclothes.”

Shescowledathim.Whatthehellwashetalkingabout?
“Youknow,becauseIwasworriedabouthergettingpneumoniaandnotbecauseIwanted

tobangher.”Heshookhishead,pushinghishandsintothepocketsofhisovercoat.“Never
mind.Let’sjustgetinsideshallwe?”

Heledthewayandagain,shehadthestrangeexperienceofyetanothermanpullinga

dooropenforherasthedoormanrushedouttogreetthem.

“Goodevening,Mr.deSantis,”hesaid,smilingathimwhilegivingherasuspicious

glance.

“Goodevening,Joe.”Xaviergrinned.“ThishereisMia—?”Hepausedandglancedather

questioningly.

Shestaredback,notsurewhathewasaskingher.Becauseifitwasforasurname,she

prettymuchdidn’thaveone,oratleastnotonesheremembered.

AnawkwardsilencefollowedandthenXavierwenton,smoothlycoveringthemomentas

ifithadneverhappened.“LikeIsaid,thisisMia.Shehasfreerunofthebuildingtonight,
understand?”

Joedidn’tevenblink,thesuspicioninhisfacedyingout.“Sure.Anythingyousay,Mr.de

Santis.”

LuckilyXavierdidn’tseemtoneedhertospeak,usheringherthroughavaultedfoyerthat

seemedtobeallwhitemarbleandglassandovertoabankofelevators.Hepressedabutton
andthedooropenedimmediately,revealingamirroredinterior.

Thesightofherselfwasashock,becauseapartfromalittlebathroomtimeintheshelter,

sheneverhadopportunitytolookatherselfinthemirror.Quitefrankly,sheneverwantedto
either,sinceshehadmoreimportantthingstoworryaboutthanherappearance.Butnow,
steppingintothiselevator,herownreflectionhitheracrossthefacelikeaslap.

Small,hollow-cheeked,pale.Darkcirclesunderhereyes.Dirtyorangehat.Dirtybrown

overcoat.

Aterriblefeelingofshameovercameherandshehadtolookaway,stareattheflooras

thedoorsclosed,becauseshedidn’twanttoseethatpersoninthemirror.She’dalways
pridedherselfonkeepingclean,onwashingherhairandherbodywhenshehadthechance.
Butapparentlybeingcleandidn’tmatterwhenyouwerewearingclothesyoucouldn’twash
andwhenyoucouldn’tgetenoughsleepbecauseofthecoldorbecauseyouwereworried
someonemightcreepuponyouandmurderyouinthenight.

Xaviersaidnothingastheelevatorbeganclimbingupthefloors,makingherearspop.She

couldfeelhimlookingather,studyingher.Whatmusthethinkofhernow?Inthebright
lightoftheelevatorcar?She’dnevergivenotherpeople’sopinionsmuchthought,notwhen
herownsurvivalwasmuchmoreimportant.Yetforsomereason,rightnow,shekindof
caredwhathethoughtabouther.

Thesenseofshamedeepened,thoughshetriednottoletit.
Eventuallytheelevatorstoppedandthedoorsslidopendirectlyoutintothelargestroom

she’deverseen.Itwasbiggerthanthediningroomattheshelter,oreventhebunkroom,and
foralongmomentallshecoulddowasstare.

Therewerewindowsonatleastthreesides.Massivewindows,beyondwhichtherewas

nothingbutthelightsoftheNewYorkskylineanddarknessandwhirlingsnow.Theroom
wasdimbutassoonasshesteppedoutoftheelevator,lightscameon,notstraightaway
brightlikeanordinarylightswitch,butgradually.Theyseemedtocomefromrecessedplaces
inthehighceiling,thelightthatcamefromthemwarmanddiffuse,illuminatingtherestof
theroom.

Itwaslikeanartgallery,therewasnootherwayshecoulddescribeit.Ormaybeapalace.

Ormaybeitwaswhatheavenwaslike,becauseshesimplyhadnootherframeofreference.

Thefloorwasthicklycarpetedindeepcharcoal,andanarrangementoflong,lowwhite

sofassatinfrontofthesoaringwindows.Therewereshelvesbuiltintothewallswithstuffon
them,butnothingthatlookedclutteredoruntidy.Asculpturehere.Sleeklyspinedbooks
there.Aglassvaseandabowlofflowers.Infrontofthesofawasalowcoffeetablestacked
withmagazinesandachesssetcarvedfromwhatlookedlikecrystal.Everythingwaswhiteor
blackorsomeshadeinbetween.

Maybeitshouldhavefeltcold,buttherewasnothingcoldaboutthisroom,nothingatall.

Shecouldfeelthewarmthofitseepinginfromthesolesofherfeetallthewayupthrough
herbody.Itwasamazing,beautiful.

Anditmadeherevenmoreawareofhowwetandfilthyhershoeswere,howstainedher

jeansandovercoatwere.Howshecouldneversitonthatwhitesofabecauseshewasbound
toleaveamark.Shewouldstaineverything...

Miafroze,notwantingtomove,notevenonestep.
Thiswasn’tanythinglikethedirty,run-downapartmentshe’dlivedinoncewithher

grandmother,beforetheoldbitchhadbeatenheronetoomanytimesandshe’dhadtoleave.
Anditcertainlydidn’thavethecomforting—ifcold—familiarityofherplacebehindthe
Dumpsterinthealley.

Sheshouldn’tbehere;shedidn’tbelonghere.
ButthenXavierwasmovingpasther,shruggingoutofhisovercoatandthrowingit

carelesslyoverthebackofthesofa.“WelcometochezdeSantis,”hesaidcasually.“Micasais

yourcasa,etcetera.Okay,so,quickietour.Overtherearethecontrolsforthelightsandthe
aircon.”Hepointedatsomespotonthewallshecouldn’tevensee.“Overhere’swhereyou
cancontrolmusicforwhicheverpartofthehousewanttobein.TVcontrolsarepartofthat
too.”Heflashedherabrilliantsmile,hisblueeyeselectricinthewarmlightoftheroom.The
hummingenergyaroundhimseemedtoincrease,hismovementsfluidanddecisiveashe
undidthebuttonsonhissuitjacketandshruggedthatofftoo,leavingitontopofthe
overcoat.“Youneedfood,ASAP.”Hebeganundoingthecufflinksonhisbusinessshirt,
tossingthemontoanearbytable,notseemingtonoticethatoneofthembouncedoffitand
ontothefloor.“Now,Ihaven’tbeenhomeforafewdays,soI’mnotsurewhatfoodwe’vegot,
butifwe’reverylucky,Mrs.Thomaswillhavedoneherthingandleftalittlesomethingfor
meinthefridge.”Hebeganrollinguphissleeveswiththesamedecisivemovements,
exposingtanned,muscularforearms.“Shevisitsthislittledeliaroundthecornerthatdoes
lotsofgourmetshit,butalsohasthebestmacandcheeseever.”

Clearlynotexpectingaresponse,heturnedandstrodedownthehallwayonherleft,

talkingashewent.“Downhere’sthekitchen,andthatdoorthereleadstothebedroomsand
thebathrooms.Youcanchoosewhicheveroneyouwant,doesn’tworryme.”

Shestaredafterhim,frozeninplace,shaking.Overwhelmed.
Comeon.Getyourselfthefucktogether.Yousurvivedonthestreets,youcansurvive

here.Nowgogetthatfood.

Miasuckedinabreath.Yeah,God,shewasn’tgoingtoletonerichdudeandhis

apartmentintheskygettoher.Noway.Shehadtoignorethefeelingsofshamejustlikeshe
ignoredthefearwhenshewasoutonthestreets.Shameandfearwerenotgoingtogether
whatshewanted.Doingstuff,surviving,would.Andthefirststeptosurvivingwaseating
somegoddamnfood.

Forcingherselftomove,shemadeherselfputonefootinfrontoftheother,followingthe

soundofhisdeepvoicedownthehallway.Deliberatelyshedidn’tlookaround,notreadyto
takeanythingmoreinquiteyet.

Thehallwaywasn’tlong,leadingoutintoanothermassiveroomwithyetmorewindows

andyetanotherviewincredibleNewYorkview.Partofherregistereditandwantedtogo
pressherselfagainsttheglass,seewhatthecitylookedlikefromuphereintheskyrather
thanfromherusualviewpointontheground.Butshedidn’t.Insteadshefoundherself
blinkingatamassivekitchen,allshinywithstainlesssteelandpristinewhitemarble.

Xavierwasstandingbeforeahugefridgethatlookedevenbiggerthantheonesinthe

shelter,frowningslightlyashereachedinandtooksomethingoutofit.Acartonofmilk.He
gaveheranothergrinasheputthecartononthewhitemarbleofthekitchenisland.“Sit.I’ll
getyouaglass.I’mthinkingyouwon’twantbeer,sincealcoholprobablyisn’tagoodideaif
youhaven’teaten.”Again,hedidn’twaitforhertoanswer,pullingopenoneperfectlywhite
cupboardandpullingoutatallglass.Hesetitbeforeherandpouredthemilk.“Mrs.Thomas
hasdefinitelybeen.Themilkisfreshandthat’susuallyaproblemsinceI’mnotherealot.
Whichmeans...”Heglancedatahugehunkofshinymetalinthecorner,whichturnedout
tobetheoven.“Ha.Iwasright.”Anotherofthosebrilliantsmilesashecrossedovertothe
oven,tuggingitopenandgettingsomethingout.“Excellent.It’sstillhot.”

Aminutelaterandaplateofpipinghotmacandcheesewassittinginfrontofher.
Sheblinkeddownatit,herstomachrumbling,stilloverwhelmeddespiteitall.
Xavierpushedaforkoverinherdirection.“Eat,Mia.”

Yes,eat.Forgettherest.Youdon’tknowwhenyou’llgetanyfoodagain.
Likeaswitchbeingflicked,hersurvivalinstinctskickedin,andsheforgotabouther

surroundings,hershame,andevenherwetclothes,grabbingthefork,diggingintothefood.
Shetookitslowly,knowingfromexperiencethatgorgingherselfonanemptystomachwasa
reallybadidea,ignoringXavier’sbrilliant,interestedgazeashewatchedher.

Hewassayingsomething,butshepaidnoattention,concentratingonherfoodinstead.

Hisvoicewaslikeabeautifulcounterpointtotherichnessofthesauce,soundandtaste
blendingintoonedelicioussensationshefeltdowntheentirelengthofherbody.

Shewantedtoeatitallday,everyday,butshehadn’tevenmanagedhalfofitwhenshe

hadtostop,notusedtotherichness.

“Areyousureyou’vehadenough?”heasked,eyeingherplatedoubtfullyasshepushedit

away.

Shenodded.
Hefrowned,asifnotquietbelievingher.Thenshrugged.“Fine.Youcanhavemoreif

you’rehungrylater.”

Hisgazeranoverher,assessingassheleanedagainstthecounter,completelyunableto

speak,halfstupefiedwithwarmthand,forthefirsttimeinalongtime,afullstomach.

“Youupforthatbath?”
Bath.Warmwater.Howlonghaditbeensinceshe’dhadoneofthose?Shewasusedto

thequickfive-minuteshowerintheshelter,whichwasbarelyenoughtimetowashherhair
andtherestofherbody.Certainlyneverenoughtimetoluxuriate.

Wordlessly,shenoddedagain.
“Followmethen.”Xaviermovedtothekitchendoorwayandonceagainshehadtoforce

herselftomove,walkingslowlydownthehallwayafterhim,throughanotherdoorwayand
anothershorthallbeforehepushedopenadoorandstoodasideforhertoenter.

Anothermassiveroomwithhugewindows,thistimetheirfootstepsechoingoffwhite

tilesandyetmorewhitemarble.Onaplinthinfrontofthosewindowsstoodatubthat
lookedbigenoughforatleastfivepeople.

Apparentlyhehadn’tbeenkiddingwhenhe’dsaidyoucoulddrownanelephantinit.
Brisklyhemovedovertothebath,fiddlingwiththetapsuntilsteamingwaterwas

runningintothetub.Hetalkedwhilehedidthistoo,awallofbeautifulsoundthat
surroundedherandsomehowheldherupbecauseshefeltlikeshewasindangeroffalling
over.

Shehadn’tdoneitoften,butsometimes,whenthelonelinessgottoher,shewenttosee

oneoftheoldmenwhosometimessharedthealleywithher,acceptingafewsipsfromtheir
whiskybottlesinreturnforlisteningtosomeoftheiroldstories.

Thisfeltlikethefeelingthatwouldcreepuponherthen,themuzzy,warmsensationof

beingdrunk.She’dhateditonthestreet,feelingthetemptationofitpullingher,toescape
herrealitythewaysomanyothersdid.Butsheknewthatwaylednowheregood,soshe
didn’tdrinkveryoften.

Andsheknewsheshouldn’tgiveintoitnow.
Butitwasdifferent,hereinthisplace.Becauseitwasn’talcoholthatwasmakingherfeel

thisway,onlyfoodandwarmth.Foodandwarmththatweretemporary,onlyandever
temporary.

So?Takeitwhileyoucangetit,idiot.

“Youokay?”Hewasstandinginfrontofhernow,lookingdownather,hisbeautifulface

shadowedinthesubduedlightingofthebathroom.

“Yes,”shesaidthickly.“Iwantmybathnow.”Suddenlyshecouldn’tbearwaitingany

longer.

“It’sallreadyforyou.Thedoorhasalocksoyoucanlockitifyouwant.IpromiseIwon’t

comein.”

Butshewasn’tlistening.Shewantedinthatwarmwaterandshewantedinnow.
Hemurmuredsomethingelsethatshedidn’tlistentothenmovedtowardthedoor,going

throughandclosingitquietlyafterhim.

Silencefell.Absolute,incredible.She’dneverbeenanywheresoquiet.Allthetime,the

noiseofthecitywaseverywhereshewent—aconstant,nightorday.Butuphere,inXavier’s
penthouse,itwaslikeshe’dgonedeaf.

Sheswallowed,herhandsmovingtothebuttonsonhercoat,undoingthem,herfingers

shaking.Itfeltlikeforevertodiscardallthelayersshewore,andsheworealotofthem
becausehowelsecouldshekeepwarm?Butonebyonetheyfellawayuntilatlastshestood
inXavierdeSantis’sbathroom,nakedandshivering.

Beingnakedfeltwrong,feltexposinganddangerous,butnoonewasgoingtogetherhere,

werethey?Noonecouldcomeinandattackher.NooneexceptXavier.Shewasstartingto
thinkheprobablywastellingthetruthwhenhesaidhewouldn’thurther,butyoucould
neverbetoocareful,sosheextractedhisbeautifulknifefromthetangleofclothingand
walkedovertothebath,layingtheknifeonthebroadedgeofit.

Then,slowly,becausethewaterwasveryhot,sheloweredherselfintothetub.
Hermindblankedasthewaterclosedoverherbareskin,herwholebodygoinginto

somethinglikepleasureshock.Andforamoment,hertoesandherhandshurt,aching
painfullyasthewarmthpenetrated.Then...holyshit.Warm.Soincrediblywarm

Shelaythereinthewater,staringupatthedarknessoftheceiling,notthinkingof

anythingatall.Floating.

Andforthefirsttimeinyears,musclebymuscle,Mialetherselfrelax.

Chapter5

Xaviersatinthekitchen,eatingtherestofMia’smacandcheeseandgoingoversomeemails
onhisphone.OfcoursehisfatherhadwantedanupdateontheWashingtonsituationandso
Xavierhadcalledhim,sincethatwasquicker.

Ashe’dexpected,hisfatherhadbeendelightedwiththeresultofthemeetingandthe

nice,fatgovernmentcontractthatwasgoingtocomeoutofit.Delightedenoughthathe’d
scheduledapersonalmeetingwithXaviertomorrowtodiscusshandingoverownershipof
theranch.

Scheduledforameetingwithhisownfather.Fuck,itwaskindoffunnywhenhethought

aboutit.Whoelsehadtodothattoseetheirownfather?ButthenthatwasoldCesarede
Santisallup.Nothingwasmoreimportantthanhiscompany,nothingatall.

Xaviermighthavebeenpissedifhethoughtaboutittoomuch,buttherewasnopointin

gettingpissed,sohedidn’t.HeleftthatshittohisbrotherLorenzo.Itwaseasiernottolet
thingsbotherhim,tojustfloatalongthesurfaceoflife,takingpleasureinthethingsthat
interestedhim.Women.Beer.Weapons.

Christ,therewasareasonthatthemediahaddubbedhimthe“redneckinasuit.”
Heflickedthroughhisemails,slidingmostoftheminthetrash.
Areminderpoppeduponthescreen,tellinghimhewasdueattheworkouthe’d

scheduledbeforehe’drealizedhewasgoingtobebringinghomeanuninvitedguest.

Speakingofwhich...
Xavierlookedupfromhisphoneandstaredthroughthekitchendoorwaytothehall

beyond.Howlonghadshebeeninthatbath?Ithadbeenatleasthalfanhour,hadn’tit?
Maybemore.Okay,soheknewwomenlikedthattub—he’dhadafewinit,mostlywith
himselfintheretoo—butthey’dneverbeenquitethatlonghadthey?

Aflashofconcernwentthroughhim,unfamiliarandsharp.
She’dseemed...quietwhenthey’dsteppedoutoftheelevator.Andquitefranklyhe’d

thoughtshe’deatmorethanshehad.Unlessithadbeentoorichforher?Butstill,shehadn’t
eatenalotandevenwithallthoselayerscoveringher,he’dbettherewasn’talottoher.
Whenhe’dputhishandonherbackoutatthefrontentrancetohisbuilding,she’dfeltso...
slight.Likeshe’dblowawayinthefirststrongbreeze.

Maybesomethinghadhappenedtoher?
Ormaybeshe’sjustenjoyinganicebathandtakinghertimeaboutit.Relax.Thischickis

gettingyouwaytoowoundup.

True.Shewashereandhe’dfedherandnowshewasinthebath,therewasnothingtoget

tooconcernedabout,right?

Hespentthenextfiveminutestryingtoreadanemailfromthemarketingdepartment

aboutsomeproblemtodowiththelatestcampaignfortheDeSantissemi-automaticrange.
ReadingandnottakinginawordsincehekeptlisteningoutforMiatocomeoutofthebath
andnothearinganything.

“Dammit,”hesaidaloudtothekitchen.Thenheputhisphonedownandstrodeinthe

directionofthebathroom.

Thedoorwasfirmlyclosedwhenhegotthereandnosoundwascomingfrominside,not

evenwhenheputaneartothedoor.Strange.Surelyhe’dhearthesoundsofwatermovingor
atleastsomething?

Heknockedlightly.Therewasnoresponse,soheknockedagain,louderthistime.
Stillnoresponse.
Heputahandtothedoor.“Mia?”
Nothing.
Screwthis.Hepulledonthedoorhandleandfounditwasn’tlocked,whichhehadn’t

expected.Notwhenshe’dbeensowaryofhim.

Cautiously,hepushedthedooropenandputhisheadaroundit.
Shewaslyinginthetub,herheadturnedtowardthelightofthecity,absolutelystill.
Astrange,coldfearwoundaroundhisheart,almoststoppinghisbreathandfreezinghim

inhistracks.

Whatthefuckareyoudoing?It’slikeyou’reexpectinghertobedeadorsomething.
No,thatwasstupid.Whywouldhethinkthat?
Butthefearwouldn’tgoawayandhehadtotakealong,slowbreath,forcinghimselfto

move,crossingthewhite-tiledfloorovertothetubwhereMialay.

Herheadwasbackagainsttheedgeofthebath,longdarkstrandsofhairlyingdamplyon

paleshouldersandforehead.Shewasbreathingsoftly,deeply,hereyesclosed.

JesusChrist,hewasafuckingidiot.Shewasasleep.
Awaveofreliefwentthroughhimandthen,becausehewasamanandabasiconeatthat,

andbecauseshewasawomanandcurrentlynakedinhisbath,helethisgazetakeintherest
ofher.

Shewasveryslight,verymuchonthetoo-thinside,andhecouldhaveputhiswholehand

aroundherupperarmswithoutanytroubleatall.But...helookedfurtherdown.Small,high
breastsandpalepinknipples.Beautifullycurvedwaistandhips.Legsthatwerenevergoing
tobelong,notgivenherheight,butneverthelesswereinperfectproportiontotherestofher.
Blacksilkycurlsbetweenherthighs.Pale,smoothskinbeneaththesurfaceofthewater...

Thatfeelingkickedinsidehimagain,thesamethinghe’dfeltinhislimo,andhehadto

catchhisbreath.

That’sit,youprick.Gethardforthepoornakedhomelesswomanyou’repervingatin

yourtub.

Thewaterrippledandhejerkedhisgazebacktoherface,onlytofindherfathomless

blackeyesstaringbackathim.

Shegaveagaspandmoved,herhandflashingtotheknifesittingonthesideofthebath.

Buthemovedtooandfaster,bringinghispalmdownflatonthebackofherhand,pressingit
ontothemarbledrimbeforeshecouldstabhimsomewheresensitive.

Itonlyseemedtomakethingsworse.“Getawayfromme!”Thesoundofherterrified

breathingfilledthebathroom,echoingoffthetiles,watersloshingeverywhereasshetriedto
pullherhandaway.“Don’t!Stop!”

Jesus,hedidn’tknowwhathe’ddonetowakeheruportoprovokethisreaction,buthe

knewblindpanicwhenhesawit.Shewasstaringathim,butnotreallyseeing,allthelight
gonefromhereyes,herskindeadwhite.

Likeshehadwhenhe’dtouchedherhandinthedoorwayoftheshelter.

Hewasn’tusedtodealingwithpanickedwomen.Wasn’tusedtodealingwithpanicked

peopleofeithersex.Butherememberedthoselonghotsummers,whenhisfatherusedto
sendallhissonsbacktoBlueSkiesRanch,determinedthattheywouldn’tgrowupspoiled,
pamperedbig-cityboys.Herememberedbeingwiththehorsesandhowsometimeshe’dbeen
abletocalmapanickedanimalwithafirmvoiceandasteady,reassuringhand.

Miawasn’tahorse,buthell,itwasworthashot.
“Stop,”hesaidfirmly,keepinghishandonhersandholdingitdown.“You’rewithme.

WithXavier.Inmyapartment.”

Shestilled,blinking,herbreathcominginshort,hardpants.
“Youhadabathanditlookslikeyoufellasleep,”hewentoninthesametone.“I’monly

heretomakesureyouhadn’tdrownedoranything,okay?ButIcan’thaveyoustabbingme.
Youdon’twanttobehaduponmurdercharges,right?”

Sheshookherhead,thetensionebbingfromherarm,herhairclingingtoherneckand

shouldersinsleek,blackstrands.

“That’sit.I’mnotgoingtohurtyou,remember?I’mheretohelp.Now,thatwater’sgoing

togetcold,sohowaboutyougetout?”

“No.Notwithyouhere.”Shehunchedoverherself,tryingtoprotecthernudityandhefelt

likeevenmoreofatoolforlookingatherwhenshe’dbeenasleep.

Heshouldgetout,hereallyshould.Thenagain,sheappearedexhausted,thedarkcircles

underhereyesevenmorepronounced,asifsomeonehadpunchedherintheface.God,when
wasthelasttimeshe’dhadadecentsleep?Maybeshedidn’tevergetany.Sleepmadeyou
vulnerable,andahomelesswomanasleepandvulnerableonthestreetsofNewYork?Yeah,
therewerenogoodscenarioscomingoutofthat.Nowondershe’dwokenupsoquickly.It
mustbesomekindofsurvivalreflex.

“Canyougetoutbyyourself?”Hegaveheracriticalonce-over,notingthefinetremorin

herhandsasshepressedthemoverherchest.

“Yes.”Thewordwasdefiantandhewasn’tatallsureshewastellinghimthetruth.
“Idon’tthinkso,sweetthing.Tellyouwhat,I’llstayinhereincaseyouneedhelp,butI

promiseIwon’tlook.”

Whenshedidn’tprotest,heknewshewasprobablyonherlastlegs.
Heletoutabreath,fightingtheurgetosimplysweepherupintohisarmsanddryheroff

likeachild,turningaroundandpointedlygivingherhisbackinstead.

“Don’tlook”Hervoicesoundedsosmall,sothin.
“Iwon’t.ItoldyouIwouldn’t.”Hefoldedhisarms,hearingthesoundofwatersloshing.

“Therearetowelsontherack.Helpyourself.”

Noresponse.
Hestaredatthewhitetilesofthebuilt-inshoweroppositehim.“Oh,anddon’teventhink

aboutputtingthoseclothesbackon.”

Anothersilence.Butthistimehethoughthecaughtthesoundoffabricrustling.
Really?Shewasreallygoingtoignorehim?Putthosefilthy,cold,wetthingsonagain?

No,justno.

Heturnedaroundandsureenough,Mia,wrappedinoneofhisbig,charcoalbathtowels,

wasbentoverthepatheticpileofclothesonthefloor,ascrapofwhitecottoninherhand.

Cursing,hemovedovertoherandpulledthescrapoutofhergrip.
“Hey!”Herheadcameup,herwhitefacetwistedwithanger.“Leavemyclothesalone!”

Shemadeagrabfortherestofthem,buthesimplykickedthemawayandstoodinfrontof
her,blockingher.

Shegavehimalookofpurefury.“Getthefuckawayfrommyclothes!Ineedthem!”
“No,”hesaidflatly,givinghernothingbutcalmauthority.Becauseunderneaththeanger,

hecouldhearsomethingdesperate.Somethingafraid.“You’renotwearingthemandthat’s
final.”

Shewasshiveringeventhoughitwasn’tcoldinthebathroom,herarmswrappedaround

herself,holdingthetoweltightlytoherbody.“D-Don’ttellmew-whattodo.Youc-can’tdo
that.”Herchestheaved.“Iw-wantmyclothes.Givethemtom-me!”

Hewantedtotouchher,sootheher.Calmherthewayhe’ddonewiththehorses,stroke

hishandupanddownherbackandmurmurreassuringthingstoher,lettingthesoundofhis
voicerelaxher.Buthesensedthatwouldonlymakeitworserightnow.

“No,”herepeated.“They’rewetandthey’refilthy.Ihavesomethingyoucanputonuntil

youcangetnew—”

“Idon’twantnewones.Iw-wantthoseones.”
Shemadeasiftogoaroundhim,buthesteppedinfrontofheragain.Okay,sohecouldn’t

pretendheunderstood,butifshewasparticularlyattachedtothoserags,hewouldn’tgetrid
ofthemlikehe’dplanned.“Look,allI’msayingisthatyoucan’twearthemnow.Theyneedto
becleaned.I’vegotsomelaundryforMrs.Thomasanyway,soI’llputtheminwithmine,
okay?”

Sheglancedaway,hergazedartingalloverthebathroomasiflookingforanescaperoute,

herbreathingstillshortandfast.

She’sscared,asshole,andyou’renotmakingitanybetter.
Hedidn’tlikethat.Hewasusedtogivingwomenpleasure,notmakingthemwanttoflee

theroom.

Irritatedwithhimself,hesteppedawayfromher,turningandbendingtopickupthepile

ofdirtyrags.

“N-No,”shewhispered.“Pleasedon’t.”
Heignoredher.“I’mgoingtoputtheminthelaundry.GositinthelivingroomandI’ll

bringyousomethingtowear.”

Leavingthebathroom,hedidn’tlooktoseeifshe’dfollowedhim,makinghiswaytothe

laundryanddumpingtheclothesontopofthewashingmachineheneverusedhimself—he
leftallofthatshittoMrs.Thomas.Ashedidso,aflashofbluecaughthiseye.Hestared,
thenshiftedasidesomestifforangewoolandgrinnedatthesoftcashmereofthebluebeanie
he’dboughthertheweekbefore.

Thepeculiarsatisfactionhe’dfeltthemomenthe’dcaughtaglimpseofitunderneathher

hideousorangehatfilledhimagain,andhefoundhimselfreachingandpickingitup.Itwas
softinhishand,andsomestrangeimpulsehadhimliftingitupandinhaling.Thescent
wasn’tunpleasantinanyway.Itwassoft,musky,tingedwithafaintsweetsmellthatcould
havebeenfromaflowerorsomethingelse,hewasn’tsure.

Youfuckingidiot?Whatareyoudoingsniffingherhat?
Hedidn’tknow.Maybehewascrazy.Hecertainlyfeltcrazythepasttwoweeks,obsessed

withawomanhe’dseeninahomelessshelter,who,forsomecompletelyinexplicablereason,
hadgrabbedholdofsomepartofhim.

Andnottheusualpart.Though,ifhewashonestwithhimself,he’dcertainlyfeltthatpart

whenshe’dbeenlyingnakedinthebath...

Athreatofdesirewoundunexpectedlythroughhimandpulledtight.
Hecaughthisbreath.Yeah,thatwasn’thappening.Notevenhewasthatmuchofaprick.
Curlinghisfingersaroundthebeanie,heputitinthepocketofhissuitpantsthenturned

andleftthelaundryroom,makingaquickstopathisbedroomtograbtherobeheneverwore
fromthewalk-incloset,beforecomingbacktothelivingroom.

Healmostexpectedforhernottobethere.Forhertohavevanished,leftthebuildingand

runoutintothesnowynightdressedonlyinatowel.Butshewasstandinginthemiddleof
theroom,hershouldershunched,longdarkhairdrippingdownherbackandintothatdamn
towel.

Shelookedsmallandbedraggledstandingthereinhislivingroom,exhaustionstampedall

overhersharp,delicatefeatures.Yetagainitstruckhimhowfragileshewas.Howvulnerable.
Itseemedimpossiblethatthislittlewomanhadlivedbyherselfonthestreets,withoutsafety
orshelter,andyethadn’tbeenbroken.Hadn’tbeenmurderedorpermanentlyinjured.Hadn’t
wastedawayofsometerriblediseaseorfromstarvation.Hadn’tfrozentodeathinthebitterly
coldwinters.

She’sstrong.
Lookingatthefragilityofhernow,itseemedastrangethingtothink.But...shehadto

be.Thatslender,palebodyofhershadtobemadeoutofpuresteel.

Heheldouttherobe.“I’llhavetogothroughmyclosetandseeifthere’sanythingthat

willfityou,butyoucanwearthisinthemeantime.”

Hergazedartedtotherobethencamebacktohimagain.Shedidn’tsayanything,only

gazedwarilyathimasshemovedcloser,snatchingtherobefromhisfingersasifshewas
afraidhe’dtakeitawayatthelastmoment.

Wordlessly,heturnedhisbacktoheragain,givingherafewsecondsofprivacysoshe

couldputontherobe.Thistimehedidn’tlook,notevenintothewindowstocatchthe
reflectionofhernakedness,becausehewasgoingtobeagentlemanthistime.

Whenheturnedback,thetowelwasonthefloorandshewaswrappedintheplush,

charcoalrobe,thefoldsofitbasicallyswampingher.“H-Here,”shesaidunsteadilyandbent
tograbthetowel.Butasshestraightenedup,sheswayed,herfacegoingevenwhiterthanit
wasalready.

Okay,thiswasridiculous.Hewasn’tgoingtostandtherenothelpingher,andhedidn’t

giveashithowuncomfortablethatmadeher.

Beforeshecouldtoppleoverinfrontofhim,Xaviersteppedforwardandslidanarm

aroundher.Shestiffened,buthepaidthatnoattention,bendingtoslidehisotherarm
behindherkneesandsweepherupintohisarms.

“No,”shesaidfaintly,herbodyrigid.
“Yes,”hemurmured,stoopingtograbthetowelaswell.
Shegaveacursorystrugglebutwhenhedidn’tlethergo,shewentlimpinstead,herhead

relaxingbackagainsthischest,herlashescomingdown.

Heturnedtowardabedroom,carryingherdownthehallway.Shewassolightinhisarms,

soinsubstantial.Thescentoftheoilhe’dputinherbathwaterwrappedaroundhim,aspicy,
sandalwoodsmelloneofhisgirlfriendshadlefttheremonthsagoandwhichhe’dnever
gottenridof.Thebathoil’sperfumemixedwiththatlightmuskyscenthe’dinhaledonthe
beanie,herownnaturalsmell.Itwasdelicious.

Xaviertriednottolethimselfgetdistracted,becauseheknewhimself.Givehimanaked

womanwhosmelleddeliciousandhedidn’tholdback.Restraintwasnotinhisnature.Yet,
forsomereason,withher,hewastheveryessenceofrestrained.

Hecouldn’tworkoutwhy.Fragilethingstendedtogetbrokenwhenhewasaround,which

waswhyhemadesurehewasneveraroundthem.

Yethewasn’tgoingtoexaminethatrightnow,notwhenshewasshiveringinhisarmsas

ifshewascold.

Therewereotherbedroomsinthehouse,buttheyhadn’tbeenpreparedforguestsandthe

heatinghadbeenturneddowninthem,soheheadedstraightbacktohisownroom.Itwasat
leastwarmandthesheetswerefresh.

Notbotheringwiththelights,hecarriedherovertohismassive,widebed,sittingdown

ontheedgeofitwithherinhislapsohecouldpullbackthegoosedowncomforter.She
didn’tmakeasound,herbodylyingpassiveandstillagainsthimlikeakittenbeingcarriedby
itsmother.

Healmostlaughedatthatthought,becausehesureashellwasn’thergoddamnmother.

Andifawomanwaslimp,itwasusuallybecauseshe’dcometoomanytimestomove.

Butnotthiswoman.Herehewas,turningdownthebedandlayingheronit,dryingthe

tanglesofherstilldrippinghairwiththetowelthencoveringherwiththecomforterand
tuckingitaroundher.

Shemadenosoundanddidn’tprotest,hereyesfirmlyshutasifshecouldn’tdealwith

anythingmore.Andmaybeshecouldn’t.Hewasn’tgiventoreflection,notabouthisown
actionsorabouttheactionsofothers,hesimplydidwhathewantedandtookthe
consequences,goodorbad.But,thinkingaboutit,heguessedthiswasallpretty
overwhelmingforher.

Sweptoffthestreetsandintoalimo.Andfromthereintoapenthouseapartment

hundredsoffeetupintotheair.Givenrichfoodandabath,thenhavingyourclothestaken
fromyou...

Yeah,thatmustbeprettyintense.
Hesatthereforamoment,thinking.Thenhegotupandwentbackintothelivingroom,

pickingupherraggedbackpack.Slingingitoverhisshoulder,hereturnedtothebedroomand
setitdownbesidethebed,whereshe’dseeitwhenshewokeup.

Hedidn’tunderstandmostofwhatshewasgoingthroughrightnow,butheimagined

she’dwantherownthingsnearher.Hedidn’thavemanyofthosehimself,notwhen
everythinghehadwasboughtandpaidforwithhisfather’smoney,asituationhewas
entirelyhappywith,becauseifitwasn’thisthenhewasn’tresponsibleforit.

Exceptforhismother’sranch.That,hewanted.
Andher.She’syoursnow.
Xavierstaredatthewomaninhisbed.Theshakinghadstoppedandshewasbreathing

evenly,deeplyasleepnow.Allsnuggledupbeneaththecomforterlikealittleanimal.Herhair
hadbegantodryinthicksilkycurlsagainstthewhitepillowcaseandhehadasudden
intensedesiretotouchit,runhisfingersthroughit,buryhisfaceinitandinhalethatsweet,
muskyscentagain.

Buthedidn’t.Insteadhewentovertoachairinthecorneroftheroomandsatinit.
She’dprobablyneverhadanyonewatchoverherwhilesheslept.
Well,hewouldbethefirst.

***

Miawokeslowly,awareofnothingatfirstbutthefactthatshewasblissfullywarm.Thenshe
realizedthatnotonlywasshewarm,shewasalsolyingonsomethingthatwasnothingatall
likethecold,hardgroundofherplacebehindtheDumpster.

Itwassoftandwarm,justlikethethingshewaswrappedupin.
Foralongmoment,shedidn’tmove,notwantingtoopenhereyesbecauseshewas

terriblyafraidthatthiswasadream.Thatinasecondshe’dwakeupand,insteadofthis
warmthandsoftness,therewouldbebone-chillingcoldandconcretebeneathher,thestink
oftrashandoilintheair,andtheroarofthecityinherears.

Butthen,ifthiswasadream,sheneededtowakeupandfacereality,becausethelonger

shelivedindreamland,theharderitwasgoingtobetoleaveit.

Shesteeledherselfandopenedhereyes.
Therewasahugewindowoppositeher,nottheroughbrickofthebuildingshenormally

sleptagainst,andthroughtheglasspouredthedullwhitelightofasnowywinter’sday.

Shetookabreath,forasecondunabletograspwhereshewasandhowshe’dgottenhere.

Whyshewaswarm,notfreezing,andlyingonsoftnessinsteadofhuddledagainstrough
brick.

Thensheremembered.
Xavier.He’dtakenherfromthestreetsandbroughtherbacktohispenthouse.Givenher

somefoodandthenabathandthen...

Ashiverworkeditswaytheentirelengthofherbodyandshesatupsharply,herheart

thunderinginherchest.

She’dfallenasleepinthebathandhe’dcomein.He’dfoundhernakedandvulnerablein

thewater.

Yeah,andhedidn’tdoanythingtoyou,remember?
Mialetoutalongbreathandleanedbackagainsttheheadboardofthebiggestbedshe’d

everseen,letalonebeenin.No,that’sright,hehadn’ttouchedher.He’dgivenheratowel
andletherdryoff,andthenhe’dgivenherarobetowear.

Glancingdown,shefoundshewasstillwrappedinsaidrobe,thefabricadarkcharcoal

colorandprettymuchthesoftestthing—apartfromthebluebeanie—thatshe’devertouched.
Okay,fine,butshewasalsonakedunderneathitandshedidn’tmuchliketheideaofthat.

Liftingherhead,sheglancedaroundtheroom,tryingtospotwherehe’dleftherclothes.

Sherememberedhimthreateningtotakethemawayandherbeingafranticaboutthat.She
hadn’tbeenabletoexplainitatthetime,tooexhaustedtobecoherent,butsheneededthose
clothes.Theywerehersandsinceshedidn’thaveverymanythingsthatwere,shewantedto
keepwhatshehad.Also,ifshedidn’thaveherclothes,shecouldn’tleave,andhavingan
escaperouteifthingsturnedbadwasimportanttoher.

No,not“if,”“when.”Becausethingsalwaysturnedbadeventually.
Didn’tlooklikeherclotheswerehere,butthenhe’dtoldherhewasgoingtogetthem

cleaned,hadn’the?

Thenanotherthoughtstruckher,sendingacoldspikeofpanicstraightthroughhergut.

Whataboutherbackpack?Wherewasthat?

Sheflungbackthecomforter,slippingoutofthebed.Butherfeethadbarelytouchedthe

floorwhenshespottedthebackpacksittingrightnexttothebed.Shewassureshe’dleftitin
thelivingroom,whichmustmeanthathe’dbroughtitintoher.

Grabbingit,shehauleditintoherlapandpulleditopen,wantingtoseethateverything

wasstillthere.IntellectuallysheknewthataguywithasmuchmoneyasXavierwouldn’t
wanttotakeanythingfromtheraggedbackpackofahomelesswoman,butyoucouldnever
tellwhatsomepeoplewoulddo.

Somepeopleweresimplygreedyandsawanyoneasfairgame.
Shedidn’thavemuch,butwhatwasintherewasimportanttoher.Itwasdangerousto

havethingsthatwereprecioustoher,especiallywhenshehadnowheresafetokeepthem,
butsomethingsshesimplyhadn’tbeenabletobeartopartwith.

Asecondpairofpantiesthatwereoldandfadedandfullofholes,butwere,atleast,clean.

Araggedpaperbacksciencefictionnovelthatshe’dfoundinthetinyshelterlibraryandthat
Tonyhadsaidshecouldhave—shereaditalotbecauseitwasaboutplanetsandspaceships
andlaserguns,andnotaboutdangerandpovertyandbeingcoldandhungryallthetime.She
alsohadamagazineshe’dfoundonthesubway,onceglossyandsmooth,nowwornand
crumpled.Ithadpicturesofbeautifulhousesinitandshekeptitforideasaboutwhatshe’d
dowithherownplaceonceshehadone.Thentherewasthefadedphotoofhermotherthat
she’dtakenwithherwhenshe’dlefthergrandmother’splace.Andfinallyhermostprecious
itemofall,adelicatechainthatlookedlikegold,butprobablywasn’t,withabluebirdonit.
She’dfounditthenightshe’dbeenattacked,rightafter,whenshe’dstumbledintothelittle
alleyshe’deventuallyclaimedforherself,justlyingontheground.Ithadobviouslybeena
necklace,butthechainhadbrokensonowitwasmerelyapieceofchainwithabluebird
charm.

Itwasthebluebirdsheliked.Becausebirdscouldflyaway,she’dtakenitasasignthat

oneday,shewouldtoo.She’dflyrightoffthestreetsandupintothesky.

Miaslowlyputherthingsbackintothebackpackandlookedaroundagain.
Theroomwashuge—likeeverythinginthisplace—withtwowhitewalls,therestabroad

expanseofwindows.Thecarpetonthefloorherewasjustasthickasintherestofthe
apartment,butitwaswhite,ratherthancharcoal.Thebed,too,waswhite,aswerethesheets
andthecomforter.

Outthewindows,snowswirledintheair,blockingtheview.
Itwaslikebeinginacloud.
Puttingthebackpackonthefloor,Miagotoutofthebedandwenttothedoor,pullingit

openandpeeringdownthehallway.Therewasnoonearound,silencehangingheavyinthe
air.

Cautiously,shewentdownthehallwayandthroughintothelivingarea.
Thattoowasempty,thewindowsofthelivingroomwhitewithsnowandcloud.
Movingovertothem,Miastaredatthewhitenessbeyondtheglass.Thesilentwhirlofthe

weatheroutsidemadeherfeeloddlydisconnectedfromit,asifshe’dbeentransportedto
anotherworldliketheoneinthepagesofthatsciencefictionbook.

Itwasweird.Shefelt...good.Whichwasn’tnormalforherwhenshewokeup.Usually

herbackachedandherhandsandfeetweresometimesnumb,butthatwasn’taproblemthis
morning.Ifitwasmorning,thatwas.

Mostofthetimeshewokewhenthesuncameup,thesoundsofsirensorgarbagetrucks

heralarmclock.Shewasalsousedtosleepinglightly,incasesomeonecreptuponher,but

shehadthefeelingshe’dsleptbothdeeplyandheavilythenightbefore.

Itmadeheruneasy.
Turningfromthewindow,shetookanotherlookaroundtheroom,disturbedbythe

silence.

WherewasXavier?Andwhatwasshesupposedtodonow?
Shewantedtoleaveasquicklyaspossible,becausethelongershestayedhere,themore

difficultitwasgoingtobetogobacktothestreets.Yet,shecouldn’tleavebecauseher
clotheswerenowhereinsight.

Onthelowcoffeetablewithallthemagazinesonit,wasapieceofpaperwithapentossed

carelesslybesideit.Curious,shewentoverandpickedupthepaper.

Itwasanotecoveredwithabold,blackuntidyscrawl.Shecouldbarelyreadthewordsand

hadtoconcentratehardtomakesenseofthem.

Ihavetogoout.Don’tworryaboutyourclothes,they’rebeingcleaned.Eatanythingyou

wantinthekitchenandwatchsomeTV.I’llbebackverysoon.X.

PS.Ifyouleavewithmyrobe,I’llbeveryunhappy.
Shefrownedatthepaper.Thelastbitwasprobablyajoke,butshecouldn’tquitetell.

Sure,shewantedtoleave,butobviouslygoingoutintothesnowinonlyhisrobewasn’ta
goodidea—evensheknewthat.

Puttingdownthepaper,Mialookedaroundagain,marvelingagainatthewholeplace.The

thickcarpet,themassivewindows.Thewhiteleathercouchesandthesleekshelves,the
banksofelectronicsandtheflat,blackexpanseofwhatmustbetheTVononewall.He’dsaid
somethingaboutthecontrolslastnight,butshehadnoideahowtoworkthem,notwhenshe
couldbarelyuseacomputer.

Tonyhadbeenhelpingherwithgettingallthosepapersandthings,andhadshownher

howtosearchforstuffontheinternet.Butshe’dneverusedacomputerbeforeanddidn’t
muchlikehavingthedepthofherignoranceonshow,soshe’donlyshakenherheadwhen
he’dtriedtomakeherdoit,gettinghimtodothesearchesforherinstead.

WrinklinghernoseattheTV,Miadecidedtoignoreit,movingdownthehallwaytoward

thekitcheninstead,sincefoodwasfarmoreimportantthanTV.Sheonlyhopedshedidn’t
havetocookanything.Usinganovenwasokayandshecouldoperateamicrowave,but
puttingstufftogetherthatwasn’tasandwich?Notsomuch.

Yetwhenshegotthere,shehadtostopinthedoorway,anodd,tightfeelinginherchest.

Becausesomebreadandbutterhadalreadybeenputoutonthecounter,withvariousother
spreadslinedupnexttothem.Therewasalsoaglassofmilkandaglassofwhathadtobe
orangejuicestandingnexttothebreadboard.

He’ddonethatforher.Itcouldonlyhavebeenhim.
Thetightfeelingmovedfromherchestupintoherthroatandshedidn’tknowwhereit

hadcomefrom,butshedidn’tlikeit.Tryingtoignoreit,shewentovertothecounterandset
aboutmakingherselfasandwich.

Therewereallkindsofspreads,butshesettledonthefamiliar—somestrawberryjelly—

slatheringthebreadthicklyjustbecauseshecould.Thensheatestandingthereatthe
counter,notbotheringwithaplate,sippingalternatelyfromthemilkandtheorangejuice.
Partofherdidn’twanttosavoranything,incaseshegottooattachedtothetaste,butshe
decidedtoignorethatpartofherself.Shehadthefoodnowandnotsavoringitevenalittle
seemedwrong.

Itwasdelicious.Sodeliciousshehadtomakeherselfasecondsandwichandsheatethat

upquicklytoo,alreadythinkingaboutathird.Butthensheknewfromexperiencethatshe’d
endupfeelingsickifsheatetoomuch,soshecontentedherselfwithlickingthecrumbsfrom
herfingersinstead.

Shewasjustfinishinguptheorangejuicewhenthesoundoftheelevatoropeninghadher

freezingintoplace.

WasthatXavier?Washehome?
Acuriousburstofsomeemotionthatshedidn’tquiteunderstandwentthroughher,and

shefoundherselfheadingthroughthedoorwayofthekitchenbeforeshe’deventhoughtit
through.

Sureenough,therewasamanstandingbytheelevators,atallmanwithblackhair.He

wasdressedinadarksuitandshethoughtforaseconditwasXavier.Thenheturnedaround.

Itwasn’tXavieratall.
Hisfacewassimilar.Hehadthesamearrogantcheekbonesandhighforehead,thesame

straightnoseandfirmjaw.Hismouthwasharderthoughandtherewasnocurvetoit,his
eyesthedark,dangerousgrayofsnow-heavystormclouds,andjustascold.

Hegaveherthekindoflooksheexpected,thekindoflookmenlikehimalwaysgave

womenlikeher,sharpwithcontemptanddismissal.AndshefoundherselfdrawingXavier’s
robetighteraroundher,achillcreepingintoherbones.

“Ofcourse,”themansaid,coldcontemptdrippingfromeachword.“It’snotXavier’s

housewithoutanakedwomanwanderingaroundit.”

EverymuscleinMia’sbodytightenedinresponsetothreat.Andnotthestrangekindthat

she’dfeltaroundXavier,thekindthatinvolvedexcitement.No,thiswasalldangerandfear.

Shetookastepback,tryingtorememberwherethedoorwaytothebedroomwas,soshe

coulddartinthere,findtheknifeXavierhadgivenher.Ormaybeshecouldruntoonesideof
themanandheadtotheelevators.Getoutthatway.

“Whereishe?”themandemanded,beginningtowalktowardher.“Tellhimtogethis

sorryassouthere.I’vegotsomethingIwanttosaytohim.”

Shetookanotherstepback,herheartslammingagainstherribs,nottakinghereyesoff

thethreatinfrontofher.

“Comeon,sweetheart,”hesaid,impatiently.“Ihaven’tgotallday.Wherethefuckis

Xavier?”

“He’shere,asshole.”Afamiliar,deepvoicesaidfromtheelevators.
Theothermanturnedsharply.
Miawentstill.
Xavierwassteppingoutoftheelevatorandcomingdownthehallway,longstridesclosing

thedistancebetweenhimandtheotherman.Hedidn’tstopandhedidn’tslow,coming
straightfortheotherguy,gettingrightupinhisface.

Themandidn’tbackaway,butshecouldseehimstiffen.HewasalittletallerthanXavier,

butXavierseemedwidersomehow,morepowerfullybuilt.Ormaybethatwastheaggression
andhostilityradiatingfromhistallform.

“Mia?”Xavier’svoicewassharp,andhedidn’ttakehisgazeofftheotherman.“Areyou

okay?Hedidn’thurtyou,didhe?”

Shecouldn’tpretendshedidn’tknowwhatthefeelingfloodingthroughherwasthistime.

Itwasrelief.Reliefthathewashere.“No.”Thewordsoundedthinintheheavysilenceofthe

hallway.

“Whatthefuckaredoinginmyapartment,Lorenzo?”Xavierdemanded.
“Yourapartment?”Lorenzosoundedicyandsarcastic.“NotwithDad’snamealloverthe

propertytitleitisn’t.”

Xavier’seyesnarrowedintothin,blueslits,hishandscurlingintofists.Hetookanother

aggressivestepforward,forcingtheothermantotakeastepback.“LikeIsaid,whatthefuck
areyoudoinghere?”

MiahadnoideawhatwashappeningbetweenthetwomenorwhyXavierwassuddenlyso

angry—no,notjustangry,hewasfurious.Why?WhowasLorenzo?

Shestudiedthem,notingtheresemblancebetweenthem.WasLorenzohisbrother?Ifso,

whywerethetwoofthemsohostiletoeachother,becausetherewasnodenyingthatfact.
Xavierwasbristling,whiletherewasnothingbutcontemptinhisbrother’seyes.

“YouwereseeingDadabouttheranch,weren’tyou?”Lorenzofoldedhisarmsasifto

bracehimselfagainstanyattackXavierwasgoingtolaunchathim.

“Yeah,and?”Xavierliftedhischin,thelookonhisfaceinsolent.“Yougotsomethingto

sayaboutit?”

“OfcourseI’vegotsomethingtosayaboutit.It’snotyours,youbastard.”
Xaviergavehimacocky,arrogantgrin.“TellthattoDad.Hejustsigneditovertome,

asshole.”

Lorenzo’sexpressionhardened,andMiasuspectedhewasbattlingtheurgetopunchhis

brotherintheface.“Hewouldn’t.”

“Yeah,actually,hedid.”Xaviertookyetanotheraggressivestep,forcingLorenzoback

again.“Igothimthecontracthewantedandsohegavemetheranch.Yougotaproblemwith
that,youtakeitupwithhim.”

Forasecondtheatmosphereinthehallwayfloodedwithviolence,theelectricityofit

cracklingaroundthetwomen,sendinggoosebumpsoverherskinandmakinghershoulders
tighten.Theurgetorunandhideunderthebedwasalmostoverwhelming,yetcuriosity
wouldn’tlether.Shewantedtoseewhatwasgoingtohappen.

“Comeon,”Xaviermurmured,hiseyesglittering.“Takeaswing,brother.Idareyou.”
ThetensionaroundLorenzo’stallfiguregatheredtightandMiafeltherselfbegintomove.

Butnotawaytowardthebedroom.Insteadshefoundherselfwalkingquicklytowardthem
andshedidn’tknowquitewhy,notwhenherinstinctwastorunfromviolence.

Allsheknewwasthatshedidn’twantLorenzototakethatswing.
Butshe’donlygothalfwaytherebeforeLorenzogaveashort,hardlaugh.“Iwouldn’tsully

myself.”Hesteppedbackfromhisbrotherandsidesteppedhim,movingtowardtheelevators.
“Don’tkidyourselfthatthisisover.”

Xavierturned,watchingastheothermansteppedintotheelevator,thetensionabruptly

droppingfromhim.“Takeachillpill,dickhead.Andwhileyou’reatit,youmightwantto
bookaroomatthehospitaltogetthatstickupyourassremoved.”

Lorenzodidn’treply,thedoorsclosingonhiminstead.
TherewasabriefsilenceandthenXavierturnedaround,hisgazerovingoverherasifhe

wascheckingshewasallthere.Thenheclosedthedistancebetweenthem,movinginthat
fast,fluidwaythathadherheartclimbingupintoherthroat.

ButnotlikeithadfeltwhenitwasLorenzointhehallway.No,thiswasquitedifferent

andyet,somehow,nolessdisturbing.

Sheforcedherselftostaywhereshewas,becauserunningfromhimwasridiculous.He

hadn’thurtherandshethoughtthatmaybehewouldn’t.

Careful.Youcan’ttrustanyone,remember?
Ohyeah,sheremembered.Buthe’dhadplentyofopportunitytodowhateverhewanted

withherandhehadn’t.He’dgivenherabath,wrappedherupinarobe,andputherintobed.
Thenhe’dleftherbreakfast.Shedidn’thavealotofexperiencewithkindmenorwithkind
peopleingeneral,butshethoughtthoseprobablyweren’ttheactionsofsomeonewhowas
outtohurther.

“Areyouokay?”Hecametoastopinfrontofher,thatsharpgazeofhischeckingherover

yetagain.“Didhescareyou?”

“No.”Nowayshewasgoingtoadmitthat.“Hejusttookmebysurprise.”
Butshehadafeelinghe’dseenthroughthelieanyway.“Ibet.Prick.Look,he’sanasshole,

buthewouldn’thurtyou.Probablynotanyway.”

“Isheyourbrother?”
Xavier’smouthtwisted.“Resemblancethatobvious,huh?”
“Thatandhementionedyourfather.”
“Iguessthat’sagiveaway.”Raisingahand,Xaviershoveditthroughhisthick,blackhair.

“I’vegottwobrothers,nothree—Nero’sahalfbrother.ButLorenzo’stheoldest.He’salsothe
biggestasshole.”

Miahadtheweirdesturgetotouchthehairhe’dspikedup,purelytoseewhatitwould

feellike.Whichwasstupid.Touchingpeoplewasneveragoodidea.Never.Instead,she
pushedherhandsunderherarmpits.“Youdon’tlikehim,doyou?”

“Nope.Andthefeeling’smutual.He’sacold,stiff-neckedbastardwhoneverhasagood

wordtosayaboutanyone.”

“Buthe’syourbrother.”
“So?”Anexpressionshecouldn’treadcrossedhisface.“Let’sjustsaypersonalityclash

andleaveitatthat.”

“But,I—”
“Didyoueatsomebreakfast?”
Aschangesofsubjectswent,itwasprettyobvious,yetforasecondMiawastemptedto

keepgoinganyway.Shewasn’tquitesurewhyshewantedtoknowmore,shejustdid.Maybe
itwasbecauseshe’dneverhadanysiblingsofherownandwascurious.Whatever,thatwas
besidethepointsinceXavierclearlydidn’twanttotalkaboutitandshewasn’tconfident
enoughtopushit.

“Yes,”shesaidinstead.“Ihadtwosandwiches.”
Hismouthcurledinasmilethatfeltlikethesuncomingout.“Notbad,sweetthing.Did

youdrinkthemilkaswell?”

Whydidthatsmileandthewarmsoundinhisdeepvoicemakeherwanttoblush?Why

diditmakesomethingsmallandhotglowinherchest?

Shetightenedherjaw,tryingtoresistthefeeling.“Don’tcallmethat.I’mnotakid.You

don’tneedtotalktomelikeone.”

Hissmileturnedamused.“Prickly,huh?Youmustbefeelingbetter.”
Miafelthercheeksgethot.Sheglancedawayfromhim,notwantingtomeethisgaze.

“Wherearemyclothes?”

“Yougotmynote?”

“Yes,butaretheycleanedyet?”
Therewasasilence.
Sheglancedfleetinglyathim.Hewaslookingheroveryetagain,butthistimetherewas

somethingassessinginhiseyes.“Where’sthefire?It’slikeyou’redesperatetogetoutof
hereorsomething.”

Ofcoursehewouldn’tunderstand.Whywouldhe?Hehadmoney,hehadanapartment,

warmclothes,foodtoeat.Hewouldn’tknowwhatitwasliketonothaveanyofthosethings,
tonotevenknowwhenyoumightgetthem.

Hewouldn’tknowthatsometimesdenialwaseasierthanlettingyourselfhavesomething

thatcouldbetakenawayfromyou.

“Ihave...thingstodo.”Thewordssoundedridiculouseventoherself,nevertheless,they

weretrue.Shehadtofigureoutwhereshewasgoingtosleeptonightandwhereshemight
getsomemorefood.Perhapsfindanextrablanketfromsomewhere.Thenshehadtogoback
toTony,seeifhe’dmadeanyprogresswithgettingherbirthcertificate.

“‘Things,’huh?”Theamusementinhiseyesfaded,theexpressiononhisfacebecoming

hard.“Speakingof‘things,’there’safewweneedtogetstraight.First,you’renotgoing
anywhere.You’restayingrightherewithme.Second,you’llgetyourclothesbackwhenI’m
goodandreadytogivethemtoyou.Third,tellmewhatyouhavetodoandI’llhelpyouwith
themwhatevertheyare.”

Herheartsqueezedhardinherchestandshehadtolookawayagain,catchingherbreath.
Shehadn’tknownwhathewantedtodowithherthismorning,buttellinghershewas

stayingwasn’tit.“Ican’tstayhere,”shesaid,carefullybecauseshedidn’twanttoseem
ungrateful.“Imean,thankyouforlastnight,but...Ihavetogo.”

Yethe’dgotthatlookonhisface,thesameonehe’dhadlastnightwhenhe’dtoldhershe

wascominghomewithhim.Theonethatsaidhewasn’tgoingtotakenoforananswer.“Let
megetthisstraight,”hemurmured,hisvoicesuddenlylowandabitdangerous.“You’drather
gooutintothesnowincheap,badlyfittingclothes,andriskfreezingtodeathinsteadof
stayinginaperfectlygoodpenthousewithabath,centralheating,food,andamassivebed?”

Thatflushwasback,creepingthroughhercheeks,makingherfeeluncertainand

embarrassed.“Youdon’tunderstand,”shesaid,lookingdownatthefloor.

“No,you’reright.Idon’tfuckingunderstand.”
Andpartofherdidn’twanttoexplainittohim.Becausewhyshouldshe?Evenifshegave

himallthereasonsshecouldn’tstay,hewouldn’tunderstand.Menlikehimneverdid,not
whentheyhadeverythingandcouldn’timaginenothavingit.

“Ineedtogo,”shesaidstubbornly,keepinghergazeonthefloor.“Idon’tbelonghere.”
Xavierletoutanimpatientbreath.“YoubelongwhereverIsayyoubelong.Andrightnow,

youbelonginthisapartment.”

Ajoltofangerwentthroughherandsheraisedherheadsharply,meetinghisgazehead-

on.“Ican’t.Andifyoustopme,I’ll...callthepolice.”

Anansweringangerglitteredblueandhotinhiseyes.“Andwhatareyougoingtosay?

‘Sorryofficer,butXavierdeSantisisholdingmecaptiveinhistwenty-million-dollar
penthouseandwon’tletmeleavetogoandfreezetodeathinthestreets.Please,pleasehelp
me.’?”

Hereyesprickled.No,thosecouldn’tbetears,theyjustcouldn’t.Shehadn’tcriedinyears.

Notsincethedayshe’dcreptoutofhergrandmother’sapartment,batteredandbruised,

cryingwithangerandpainandfear.

Cryingmadeyouvulnerableandyoucouldn’tbevulnerable,notoutonthestreets.
Sheswallowed,athicknessinherthroat,suddenlyandpainfullyawareofjusthowoutof

herdepthshewashere.Ofcourseshecouldn’tcallthecops.Shedidn’tknowthesignificance
ofXavier’sname,butgiventhefactthatherodearoundinalimoandownedanapartment
thevalueofwhichshecouldn’tevenconceiveof,hewasclearlysomeoneprettyimportant.
Andsheknewfromexperiencethatthecopsonlylistenedtoimportantpeople.Nottopeople
likeher.

Whichmeantshewastrappedhere.
Afeelingofsuffocationsweptoverherandbeforesheknewwhatshewasdoing,she’d

sidesteppedhimandstartedheadingfortheelevators.Shedidn’tevenknowwhereshewas
going,obeyingonlytheblindneedtogetout.

“Mia,”hesaidsharply.“Whereareyougoing?”
Shedidn’tturn,walkingfaster,breakingintoarun.
Untilstrongfingerscurledaroundherarm,pullingherupshort.
Shemadeahelplessfrightenedsound,herheartthrowingitselfagainstherribs,afamiliar

blindpanicwellingupinsideher.Shetriedtogetfree,triedthrowingoffhishand.

Buthewouldn’tlether.Insteadhetuggedheraroundtofacehimandgrabbedherother

arm,holdinghertightlyasifhewasafraidshemightsomehowgetawayfromhimagain.

Herheartbeatthunderedinherhead,andsuddenlyeverythingbecameconfusing.Hewas

soclose,toweringoverher,hisbodywarmandpowerfulandstrong.Andsheknewshe
shouldbescared,shouldbeterrified,becausemenusedtheirstrengthagainstwomenallthe
time.

Yes,shewasscared,butitwasn’tthefearshe’dexperiencedwhenthosemenhadattacked

her.Again,itwasdifferent.Therewasanexcitementtoitthatflutteredinherthroat,anda
kindofneedthatpulsedrightdownlowinsideher.

Hisgripwasn’tcausingherpain,yethishandswerefirmandsheknewshecouldn’t

escapeevenifshewantedto.Evenifshestruggledwithallhermight.

Youdon’twanttoescape.Youwanttostayrighthere.
Thethoughtfreakedherout.Shetookinaraggedbreath,staringupintohiseyes,

consciousinawayshe’dneverbeenbeforethathisheightandstrengthwereactuallyquite
reassuring.Asifhewereawallshecouldhidebehindandbesafe.Awarmwallshecould
snuggleupagainstwhenshegotcold.

Hesmelledgoodtoo,spicesandheat,andallshecouldseewasthemidnightblueofhis

eyes,liketheskybetweenthebuildingsshelookedupintoatnight.

“You’renotleaving,”hesaidwithabsolutecalm,makingsomethingechoinsideher.

“You’restayingwithme.”

He’dspokentoherlikethislastnight,whenshe’dpanickedinthebath.Notshouting,not

loud,yetwithanauthorityshefoundweirdlyreassuring.

Butshecouldfeelthepanicmovinginherblood,tellinghertorun,togetaway,toleave

beforeshehadeverythingtakenfromher.

“Ican’t.”Hervoicesoundedthinandfragile.“IfIdon’tgonow,Iwon’twanttogoback.

AndthenitwillbeevenharderwhenIdo.”

Understandingrippledoverhisface,whichseemedimpossiblewhenshe’dalreadydecided

hewouldn’tunderstand.“Thendon’tgoback,”hesaidsimply.

Chapter6

Xavierdidn’tpausetothinkaboutwhathe’dsaid.Heonlyknewthatifshedidn’twanttogo
backtothestreets,shedidn’thaveto.Infact,hewasgoingtoinsistshestayforaslongas
shewantedanyway.

Ofcourse,whatexactlyhewasgoingtodowithherifshedidn’tgobacktothestreetshe

didn’tknow,butthatwasanotherthinghepreferrednottodealwithrightnow.Allthat
matteredwasthatshestayheresafewithhim.

Shefeltsofragileinhishands,herarmslikelittlereedshecouldsnapifhesqueezedtoo

hard.Hewasn’tusedtobeinggentle,andyetwithherhehadnochoice.Hedidn’twantto
breakher.

Herfacewassharpanddelicate,herdarkeyeswideandlookingupintohis.Therewereno

shadowsunderthemnow,herpaleskinmadeevenpalerbythecontrastofthethick,glossy
blackmassofcurlsthatfelltohershoulders.

Itkickedathimagain,thatjoltoffeeling,thedesirehe’dfeltlastnightashe’dlookedat

herinherbath.Hedidn’tknowwhyhefeltthatwayabouther,butoverthepastcoupleof
weeksofseeingherattheshelter,ofhavingherhereinhisapartment,ofwatchingoverher
thenightbefore,he’dcometothinkofherashis.

Hewantedtomakehercomfortable.Hewantedtotakecareofher.Hewantedtomake

sureshewaswellandhappy.Hewantedtoprotecther.

Andhewasbeginningtothinkhewantedtotouchheraswell.
Gently,experimentally,hepulledhercloser,sothatshewasn’tquiteupagainsthim,but

nearenough.

Hereyeswidenedevenmore,herbodytensinginhisgrip.Shewasverywarm,the

lingeringperfumeofthebathoilandherowndelicate,muskyscentmakinghimwanttoget
herevencloser.

He’dneverwatchedawoman’sfacelikethisbefore.Neverbeensocompletelyfascinated

bytheexpressionscrossingitorcuriousaboutwhattheymeantandwhyshefeltthatway.
Sure,helikedtoknowhowaweaponworkedandwhenitwasbroken,howtofixit.Andhe
wascuriousaboutwhichchemicalsdidwhatandhowtheyinteractedwithoneanother—
especiallywhenitcametoblowingthingsup.

Butwomen?Hisonlyinterestwasingettingthemoffsotheycouldthengethimoff.It

wasasimpleyeteffectiveequation.Hedidn’tspendalotoftimegettingtoknowthemor
spendlotsofeffortontheonesthatdidn’twanthim.Itwasallaboutgettinghisneedsmet,
andhedidn’tneedanythingmorefromthembutsex.Endofstory.

Mia,though.Shewassomethingdifferent.Maybeitwasbecauseshewastheonewho

needed,andwhatsheneededwaseverything.Andnotonlythat,she’dlethimbetheoneto
meetthoseneeds.Shewasn’tawomanwhotrustedlightly,thatwasobvious.Andyet,she’d
trustedhim.

Sure,he’dmadeitkindofdifficultforhertodoanythingelsebuttrusthim.Yet...he

hadn’tmissedthewayshe’dstartedtowardhimwhenLorenzohadlookedlikehewas

actuallygoingtotakeupXavier’sdareandpunchhimintheface.Andhedidn’tthinkitwas
becauseshewantedtoseewhatwasgoingtohappen.Infact,he’dbeteveryoneofthe
millionsthathadboughtthispenthouse—hisfather’smillions—thatshe’dbeencomingto
protecthim.

Itmadehischestfeelhollowandtightasadrum.Madehimwanttopullherevencloser,

feelherslight,slenderbodyupagainsthis.Watchthosebrightblackeyesgowidewith
surprise,thendawnintopleasure.

Somethingtoldhimthatshehadn’tsleptwithmanyguysbefore—notthathegaveashit

howmanyshemight’vesleptwithbecausehesureashellwasn’tonetothrowstones.Butif
thatwasthecase,ifshewasveryinexperienced,thenheneededtotakethisslow,neededto
begentle.Christ,heneededtobegentleanyway,becauseitwasobviousshedidn’tlikepeople
gettingclose.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Hervoicewasn’tquitesofragilenow.Ithadahuskyedgetoit,her

gazedippingtohismouththenbackagain.

Heknewwhatthatmeant.
“Conductinganexperiment.”Heeasedherevencloser,sothesoftnessoftherobe

wrappedaroundherwaspressedbetweenthem.

Sheshivered.“L-Letmego.”
Hedidn’t.“Doyoureallywantmeto?”
“I....”Shestopped,herdarkeyesdroppingtohismouthoncemore.“IsaidIwasn’tgoing

togiveyousex.”

Heguesseditwasobviouswhathewasdoing,buthecouldn’tbringhimselftofeelbad

aboutit,notwhenthewarmthofherwasbeginningtoseepthroughthatrobe.Makinghim
imaginethingslikeslidinghishandsbeneathittotouchherpaleskin,runningrunhis
fingersalloverherslightcurves,makinghergaspandsighandshiftunderneathhishands.

Hadanyonegivenherthat?Hadanyoneevermadeherfeelgood?Hewantedtodothat.

Hewantedtobetheonetoshowherwhatitwasallabout.

“Youdon’thavetogivemeanything.”Heshiftedhisgripsohishandswereonherhips.

“WhataboutifIgaveyousomethinginstead?”

“ButIdon’twantsex.”Herhandscamedownoverhisandrestedthere.Colorhadcrept

intohercheeks,easingthesharpnessofherfeaturesandmakinghereyesglow.

Christ,shewasbeautiful.Themomenthe’dseenherintheshelter,he’dknownshewas

somethingspecial.Now,itwasobvious.Ohsure,herfacewastoopointedtoobe
conventionallybeautiful,butshewasstunningallthesame.

“Areyousureaboutthat?”Heheldherstillashebroughtherrightinclose,pressingher

againsttheridgeofhisrapidlyhardeningcock.Thesensationnearlymadehimshudder.
JesusChrist,whatthehellwashelettingthiswomandotohim?

Forthefirsttime,athinthreadofuneasewoundthroughhim.Butsincehewasverygood

atnotpayingattentiontouncomfortableemotions,heignoredit.Aneasyenoughthingtodo
whenhehadanall-but-nakedwomaninhisarms,hersoftheatagainsthisdick.

Hereyeshaddarkenedintopureblack,herlush,redmouthopening,andhehadavery

strongurgetocoveritwithhis.

“Ican’t...”shesaidthickly.
She’dsaidthatbefore,whenshe’dtoldhimshedidn’twanttostay.Thatshecouldn’t,

becauseifshestayed,shewouldn’twanttogoback.He’dnoticedthatsameexpressiononher

facewhenhe’dgivenherhisknife,too.Akindofyearning.Asifshereallywantedit,but
couldn’tletherselfhaveit.

“Whataboutakiss?”hemurmured,watchingherface.“Icangiveyouthat.”
Shestartedshakingherhead,buthereachedupandtookherchinbetweenhisfingerand

thumb,holdingherstill.“No,listentome.Noonecantakeakissfromyou,sweetthing.Once
I’vegivenityou,yougettokeepit.It’syoursforever.”

Shestaredupathim,alldarkeyesandlong,thickblacklashes.
Hewouldhavegivenhissoultoknowwhatshewasthinkinginthatmoment.
“I’ve...”Shestoppedthenabruptlyturnedherhead,tryingtolookaway.
Hefirmedhisgripsoshecouldn’t.“You’vewhat?”
“Itdoesn’tmatter.”Hercolordeepenedevenfurther.“Ishouldn’tacceptanythingfrom

you.”

Helethisthumbstrokeoverthepetal-softskinofherjaw.“ButwhatifImadeyouaccept

it?LikeImadeyougetinmycarandcomeupintomyapartment.LikeI’mkeepingyouhere
rightnow.”

Herlashesfluttered.Herstiffnesshadebbed,onearmbyherside,theotherwithher

handoverhiswherehegrippedherbythehip.Shewasn’ttryingtopullhimaway,herfingers
onlyrestingtherelightly.Hergazehaddroppedtohismouthagainandthistime,itstayed
there.

Hestrokedher,feelingafinetremblegothroughher.“Infact,”hewenton,keepinghis

voicelowandsoft,andhisgazeonherface,“whatifyouhadnochoicebuttoacceptit?What
ifIheldyousotightthatyouweren’tstrongenoughtopushmeaway?”Heloweredhishead,
watchingherpupilsdilateinresponse.Butnotwithfear,hewascertain.“Ifyoucouldn’tfight
me.IfIwastoostrongforyou.”Hewentlowerstill,sohismouthwasbarelyinchesfrom
hers.“IfIwasgoingtomakeyouacceptakisswhetheryouwantedtoornot.”

Shewastremblingnow,upanddownthelengthofherwholebody.Herbreathwas

comingfastertoo.Hecouldhearitinthesilenceofthehallway.

Hergazeflickeduptohisandhecouldseefearinit,butnotonlyfear.Therewas

confusiontoo,andsomethingelse,somethingitwasclearshedidn’tevenrecognizeherself.

Xavierletgoofherchinandslidhisfingersintoherhair,curlingthemaroundthebackof

herskull,cradlingthebackofherheadinhispalm.Theblacklockswerejustassoftashe’d
imagined,justassilkyandwarm.

Hermouthopened,lushandred,butshedidn’tsayanything,wideblackeyesonhis,full

ofshockandsomanyotheremotionshecouldn’tuntanglethemall.

Areyoureallysurethisisagoodidea?
No,hewasn’tsure,notatall.Buthedidn’tcare.Heforgotabouttheranchhisfatherhad

justsignedovertohim.ForgotabouthisprickofabrotherdemandingXaviergiveuptheone
thinghe’deverwanted.Forgotaboutthefactthatevenhisownlifewasn’this.

SuddenlytherewasnothinginthewholeworldmoreimportantthankissingMia.
“I’mgoingtotakethatkiss,sweetthing,”hewarned.“Andyoucan’tstopme.”
Shedidn’tstophim.Herbodytrembledandherbreathingrushedinandout,butshe

didn’ttrytopushhimawayorpulloutofhisarms.

Sohebentandclosedthatlastinch,coveringhermouthwithhis.
Restraintwasforeigntohim.Hethrewhimselfintoeverythinghedidmostofthetime

andifhedidn’t,itwasbecausehedidn’tenjoyit.Andhetendednottodothingshedidn’t

enjoy,notifhecouldhelpit.

ButitwasclearthatkissingMiawassomethinghewasgoingtoenjoyverymuchindeed,

andittookeveryounceofwillpowerhepossessednottodowhathedesperatelywantedto
do.Whichwastoslidehistongueintohermouth,exploreher,tasteher.Kissherdeeper,
harder,takeallhersweetnessforhimself.Thesameashedidwithanyotherwoman.

ExceptMiawasn’tlikeanyotherwoman.She’dgonerigidinhisarmsandeventhough

shewasn’tshovinghimaway,heknewthatpushingthisrightnowprobablywasn’tagood
idea.Sohejustlethislipsrestonhers,notmoving,holdingherlightlybutfirmly.Enough
thatshecouldpullawayifshewantedto.Againthough,shedidn’t.

Butshedidn’trelaxeither.
Hisfingerstightenedinhercurls,fightingtheurgetopullasidetherobeshewore,

exploreherbodyasheexploredhermouth,makeherpantandscreamhisname.

Christ,hedidn’tknowifhecoulddothishold-backthing.
Thenlethergo,asshole.
Hemeantto,hereallydid.Buthefoundhimselftouchinghistonguetoherbottomlip

instead,tracingthesoftcurveofit.Shetookashort,sharpbreath,hermouthopening,and
becausehewasabastardwhotookallandeveryopportunitythatcamehisway,heslidhis
tongueinside.

Shemadeanothersoftsound,andhecouldn’tstophimself,slidinghishandfromherhip,

overanddownthecurveofherass,pressinghercloseragainsttheachinglengthofhisdick.
Hermouthwassosweetandhecouldtastehintsofthestrawberryjellyshe’dbeeneating.
Therewasheattoo,somuchofit,andsomethingelse—thatbright,hardkicklikethe
expensivebourbonhesometimesdrownedhimselfin.

Fuck,heneededmoreofthis.
Hetuggedherheadback,windinghisfingersdeeperintohercurlsandgrippingontight,

slidinghistonguedeeperinsidehermouth.Kissingherharder,moreinsistently.

Shegaveaviolent,convulsiveshiver,andthenabruptlyallthetensionleftherbody,and

shewentsoftinhisarms.

Ah,Christ,yes.Satisfactionandadeeppleasureunwoundinsidehim,andheangledher

headbackfurther,touchinghistonguetohers,coaxingher,encouraginghertorespond.And
shedid,tentatively,hesitantly.Asifshedidn’tknowwhatshewasdoing...

Shedoesn’tknowwhatshe’sdoing.Whichmeansyoushouldn’tbedoingthistoher.
Thethoughtregistereddimlyinhisbrain,butittookasecondforittoactuallypenetrate.

Thenitdid,andhefeltitlikesomeonehademptiedanicebucketoverhishead.

Becauseno,ifshewasthatinnocent,thenhedefinitelyshouldn’tbekissingherlikethis.

Heshouldn’tbedoinganythingtoherlikethis.

“You’resocareless,Xavier.Whydon’tyouthink?Whycan’tyoustopjustforone

momenttoconsiderhowyouhurtpeople?”

Hismother’svoice,sharpandshrillechoedinhisheadandhefoundhimselfpulling

away,breakingoffthekiss,somethingcoldtwistinginhisgut.

TwinspotsofcolorburnedonMia’spalecheeks,thelookinhereyesshocked.Shelifteda

shakinghandtohermouth,blinkingathimasifhewereacompleteandutterstranger.

Hiscockached,hisheartbeatraginginhischest.Whythehellwashethinkingabouthis

poor,fragiledepressedmother?Christ,hadn’thegottenoverthatyearsago?

Itdidn’tfeelrighttowalkaway,butmaybethatwasthebestthingrightnow.Maybehe

neededabitofdistance,sortoutthislittleproblemwithrestraintthatheseemedtobe
having.

“Stay,”heforcedout.“Youcanstayaslongasyouwant.”
Thenheturnedonhisheelandleftherstandinginthehallway.

***

Adaylater,MiasatonXavier’spristine,whiteleathercouch,watchingasanimmaculately
put-togetherwomanfromahigh-enddepartmentstorereachedforyetanotherhangerfrom
themetalclothesrailthathadbeenwheeledintothelivingroom.

Onthehangerwasablackdress.Itlookedtobeveryfittingandtherewasaslitintheside

thatwentfromthehemrightuptoabouthiplevel.

“Whataboutthisone?”thewomansaid,holdingupthedress.“It’sLanvin.Verychic.”
Miadidn’tknowwhatLanvinorchicwas,butsheguessedthatmeanthorriblyexpensive.

Itprobablyalsomeanthorriblyimpractical.Certainlyshecouldn’tseeherselfshuffling
aroundheralleywayinthatdress.Forastart,theslitwouldlettheweatherin,plusitdidn’t
havesleeves,whichwasgoingtomakeitverycold.

Themateriallookednicethough,shehadtoadmit.Infact,alltheclothesthewomanhad

showedherlookedliketheyweremadeoutofnicematerial.She’dendedupshovingher
handsunderneathherthighstostopherselffromreachingouttotouchthem.

Xavierhadmeantwellwhenhe’dofferedtogethersomenewclothes,sheknewthat,but

shehadn’trealizeditwouldentailhavingapersonalshoppercomingespeciallytothe
penthousetoshowherawholelotofdesignergear.Andnotjustplainolddesignergear.
JeansandT-shirtsandmaybeacoatorasweater,shecouldprobablyhavehandled.But
dressesandskirtsandgowns?Notsomuch.

Notthatshewasgoingtoacceptanythingheboughtforheranyway,butifthepastdayor

sohadtaughtheranythingabouthandlingXavier,itwaseasiertolethimdowhathewanted
thantoargueaboutit.Particularlywhennomatterhowmuchshetriedtotellhimshedidn’t
wanthimtodothesethingsforher,heignoredherandwentaheadanddidthemanyway.

Firsttherehadbeenthearrayoffoodhe’dhaddeliveredthatmorning,spreadsand

pastriesandcheesesandallkindsofthingsshe’dneverevenheardof,letaloneeaten.She’d
foundthemalltoodifferent,toooverwhelming,andhadendedupgoingbacktojelly
sandwichesinstead.Thentherehadbeenthetoiletriesthathadappearedalongwiththefood.
Oilsandsoapsandcreamsinlotsofdifferent,prettypots.Andahairbrush,amanicureset,a
hairdryer,aflatiron.Afterthat,anewbackpackhadappeared.

She’datfirstthoughthe’dgottenridofheroldone,andshehadrunaroundthe

apartmentwithtearsinhereyestryingtofindit.Onlytodiscoverthatwhathe’dactually
donewastransferthecontentsintothenewone,andstucktheoldoneintheclosetofthe
guestbedroomshe’dmovedinto.

Thathadembarrassedher.Thethoughtthathe’dseenhowlittleshehad.Butshehadn’t

mentionedit,notwantingtogetintoadiscussionoranargumentaboutit.Instead,she’dput
herthingsintheoldbackpackintheclosetandkeptthenewoneoutwherehecouldseeit.

However,heroldclothesstillhadn’treturned.He’dsworntoherthathehadn’tgottenrid

ofthem,butgiventhatithadnowbeentwodaysandshestilldidn’thavethem,shewas

startingtowonder.Laundrydidn’tusuallytakethatlongdidit?

Alongwiththebeautifuldresses,thewomanhadalsoshowedhersomeofthemost

beautifullingerieshe’deverseen.Laceandsilk,inarainbowofcolors.

Shedidn’twantanyofit.
Sheworethesparepairofpantiesshe’dhadinherbackpack,washingthemeverynightin

thebathroomsinkandhangingthemontheheatedtowelrailtodry.Shedidn’twearabra
andhadsettledononeofhisT-shirtsandapairofhisoldsweatpantsshe’dfoundina
cupboardinthehallway.Sheworethemwithanoldbusinesstiearoundthewaisttokeep
themup,alsofoundinthesamehallwaycupboard.

He’dbeenincensedwhenshe’dcomeoutofthebedroomwearingit,tellinghershe

shouldstayintherobeuntilhe’dgottenhersomethingdecenttowear,butifhecouldignore
whatshewanted,thenshecouldignorewhathewanted.He’dthreatenedtodressher
himself,butshe’djustlookedathim,silentlydaringhimtodoit.

He’dbackeddownatthat,andshethoughtshemighthavesomeideaaboutwhy.
Ithadtodowiththatkiss.Thekissshetriednottothinkabouttoomuchduringtheday.

Itwasonlylastnightthatshe’dtakenoutthememory,turningitoverandoverinherheadas
shelayinthesoft,widebed,staringattheceiling.Relivingtheheatofhismouth,thefeelof
hisstronghandsonher,andthestrangeawarenessofherbodythathadgonethroughher
likeanelectricshock.

He’dkepthisdistancefromherfortherestofthedayafterthat,atleastphysically.She’d

beenglad,becauseshedidn’tknowhowtoprocessit.Didn’tknowwhyshe’dstoodthere,
lettinghimputhismouthonhers.Lettinghimtouchher,lettinghistongueexploreher,taste
her.

Shejust...hadn’tknownhowtodealwithanyofit.
“Excuse,me?Miss?”
Mialookedupatthewoman,whowasholdingouttheimpracticalblackdress.“Yes,it’s

verynice.ButIdon’twantit.”

Thewomandidn’tevenblink.“Noproblem.Let’sseeifwecan’tfindsomethingelsefor

you.”

Atthatmoment,theelevatordoorsopenedandXaviercamestrollingin.Heworehissuits

withoutjacketsandmostlywithoutatie,andtodaywasinapairofdark,tailoredpantsanda
blackbusinessshirt,acoupleofbuttonsopenattheneck.

Thedepartmentstorewomangavehimaglance,hersmilewideningintoblinding.Mia

watchedcuriouslyasthewomantouchedherhairinwhatlookedlikeanunconscious
gesture.“Oh,Mr.deSantis,”shesaid.“Weweren’texpectingyoubackquitesosoon.”

Xaviergaveheroneofhisownblindingsmiles,makingsomethingunfamiliartightenin

Mia’schest.Shedidn’tlikeit,whateveritwas.

“Sorryladies,”hesaid,alleasy,carelesscharm.“HopeI’mnotintruding.”
Thedepartmentstorewomanpattedherhairagain.“No,ofcoursenot.Miawasaboutto

choosesomethingbeautifultoshowyou.”SheglancedoveratMia.“Weren’tyou?”

“Ican’twearthatdress,”Miafeltcompelledtopointout.“It’snotverypractical.”
“Well,no,ofcoursenot.WhichiswhyIwasgoingtoshowyou—”
“Ican’twearanyofthosedresses,”Miacutheroff.Suddenlyshedidn’twantthewoman

here.TherewassomethingaboutherthatMiadidn’tlikeandshewasn’tsurewhatitwas.
Maybeitwasthesmoothnessofherhairortheperfectnessofhermakeup.Whateveritwas,

itannoyedher.

Xavierstrolledovertothecouch,withoutevenglancingatthewoman.He’dleftearlythat

morning—wherehewent,shehadn’tasked—andshehadn’tseenhimsincethenightbefore.
Hehadacuriouslyintentlookinhisblueeyesanditmadeheruncomfortable.

Areyousurethat’sdiscomfortyou’refeeling?
Ofcourseitwasdiscomfort.Whatelsewoulditbe?
Howlongareyouplanningonlyingtoyourself?
MiashovedthethoughtawayasXaviersaid,deceptivelymild,“Sure,youcanwearthose

dresses.You’dlookbeautifulinthem.”

Shedecidednottoreply.They’dhadthisargumentbefore.
Hestoppedbythearmofthecouch,lookingdownather,andshecouldseebytheglitter

inhiseyesthathewasnothappywithher.

Toobad.
“We’lltakeallofthem,”hesaid,nottakinghiseyesoffher.“Includingthelingerie.”
“Mr.deSantis,”thewomanbegan.
“Isaidallofthem.”Hedidn’tturn.“I’llbeintouchlateraboutdelivery.Nowgetoutof

here.”

Thewomandidn’tsayanotherwordandfiveminuteslater,bothsheandtherailof

clotheshadgone.

Miastaredathim.“Youweren’tverynice.”
“LikeIgiveashit.”He’dbeganrollingupsleevesofhisshirtandforsomereasonshe

couldn’ttakehereyesofftheleanstrengthofhisforearms.“Youdon’tliketheclothes?Or
arewegoingtohaveanotherargumentaboutyourefusingtoacceptanythingIgiveyou?”

“You’renotgivingthemtome.You’reforcingmetohavethem.”
Hemadeadismissivesound.“YouwantthemMia,Iknowyoudo.Justlikeyouwanted

myknife.Youwantalotofthingsthatyou’renotlettingyourselfhave.What’sthatall
about?”

Shetorehergazeawayfromhisarmsandlookeddownatherhandsclaspedinherlap.

“Youwouldn’tunderstand.”

Heskirtedaroundthearmofthecouchthenflunghimselfdownbesideher,leaningback

andstretchinghislonglegsoutinfrontofhim.“Tryme.”

Shedidn’tknowifshewantedtohavethisconversationwithhim.Itfelttoocloseto

something...painful.“Ineedmyclothesback,”shesaidinstead.“Ineedthem.”

“We’vehadthis—”
“Ican’tstayhere,”shecuthimoff.“IhavethingsIneedtodo.”
Alookoffrustrationcrossedhisface.“Itoldyouthatyoudon’thavetogoback.Youcan

stayhereaslongasyoulike.”

“Andhowlongwillthatbefor?”Shestaredathim.“Ican’tliveasaguestinyourhouse

forever.”

“Sureyoucan,”herepliedwithmaddeningcalm.“Idon’tmind.”
“ButIdo.Iwant...”Shestopped,herheartsuddenlybeatingfaster,nervousness

flutteringinsideher.She’dnevertoldanyonewhatshewantedforherself,itwasherown
privatedream,somethingthatnoonewouldtakefromher,thatwashers.Tellinghimfelt
dangerous.Likegivingupapieceofherself.

“Whatdoyouwant?”Therewasagentlenessinhisvoice,awarmththatmadeherwantto

crawlinsideitandwrapitaroundherself.“Youcantellme.”

“It’sgoingtosoundstupid,”shemumbled.
“No,itwon’t.”Hepaused,thelookinhisdeepblueeyessuddenlyunreadable.“Nothing

youcouldtellmewillsoundstupid.”

Shedidn’tmeantotellhim,butitcameoutanyway,allthickandemotional.“Iwant...a

home.Idon’tcarewhatitlookslike.Ijustwantaplacethat’smine.Somewherethat’ssafe
andwarmandIcanhaveallmystuffandIcan—”Sheshuthermouthwithasnap,before
anythingelsecouldspillout.

Xavierdidn’tsayanything.
Shekepthergazeonherhands,herheartthunderinginherears.Stupid,God,sostupidto

tellhimallthatstuff.Hewouldn’tunderstand.Hewouldn’t.Howcouldhe?Thismanwithall
hismoneyinthisfancypenthouseapartmentandalimo.Whatwouldheknowofwanting
somethingthatwasjusthis?

“Iknowwhatitlookslike,”hesaidquietly,afteralongmoment.“IhaveeverythingI

want,right?AndIdo,it’strue.But...noneofit’smine.It’sallboughtwithmyfather’s
money.Infact,everythingIhaveisallboughtwithmyfather’smoney.It’sallinhisname,he
retainscontrolofjustabouteverything.Idon’tcare,I’mkindofcarelesswithstuffsoit’s
probablyagoodthing.”Heletoutabreath.“But...there’sonethingofmyownIwanted.My
Mom’sfamilyranchoutinWyoming.Ijustwantedthat.AndDadhadbeenholdingitover
myheadforyears,gettingmetodoawholelotofthingsforthecompany.Probablyasa
punishmentnowthatIthinkaboutit,but...Anyway,hefinallysignedoverthetitletome
yesterday.”

Therewasasilenceandshedidn’twanttomoveincasehestoppedtalking,andshedidn’t

wanthimtostoptalkingbecausethenoteinhisvoice...Sheknewit.Sherecognizedit.It
wasthesoundofherownfeelingswhenevershethoughtaboutahomeofherown.

“It’smine,”hewenton.“FinallyI’vegotsomethingthat’smine.AndI’mnotgoingtobe

carelesswiththat,notinamillionfuckingyears.”Forachangehewasn’tlookingather,his
gazestraightahead,asifhewaslookingatthatranchalready.Asifhewasalreadythere.She
hadnoideawhatWyomingwaslike,butfromthatexpressiononhisface,itlookedlikeitwas
beautiful.

Abruptly,hegaveashort,hardlaugh.“Shit,Ididn’tmeantotalkaboutthat.I’mnot

comparingourexperiencesoranything.IjustwantyoutoknowthatIunderstandwhatit’s
liketowantsomethingofyourown,too.”

Itwasstrangethatamanlikehimwouldknowthatandeventhoughthewarypartofher

wasstilltellinghernottotrusthim,therestofherdidandmorethanthat,shewas
beginningtobecuriousabouthimaswell.

Itwashardbeingtherelentlessfocusofsomeoneforsolong,especiallywhenshewasn’t

usedtoit.Maybeitwastimetoturnthatfocusonhim.

“Tellmeaboutyourfamily,”shesaid.
Hissmileturnedwry.“Christ,youknow.Likeanyotherfuckingfamily.”Thenhestopped.

“No,youprobablydon’tknow,doyou?”

Sheshookherhead.“Idon’thaveanybrothersorsisters.Ionlyhadmygrandmaandshe.

..”Hervoicetrailedoff.No,shedidn’twanttotellhimaboutthat.

Hisgazesharpened.“Andshewhat?”
Ifshewascagey,he’dprobablypress.“Iaskedfirst.”

“Okay,butdon’tthinkyou’regettingoutofit.”Heletoutabreath.“Somyfucked-up

family...Well,Imean,howmuchdoyouknowaboutus?”

Sheblinked.“Nothing.ShouldI?”
“Kindof.Mygrandparentscameoutfromtheoldcountry—Italy,obviously—andsettledin

Wyomingforsomereasonlostinthemistsoftime.”Hegaveheraveryblueglance.“Yeah,
you’regettingthelongstory.”

“Isthereanyotherstorywithyou?”Thestatementjustslippedoutofherandshehadn’t

meanttosayit,whichalmostneverhappenedtoher.

Xavier’seyeswidenedandheturnedmorefullytoher.“Didyoujustsassme?”
Shecouldfeelit,thebeginningsofasmilecurvinghermouth,astrangetightnessinher

chest.Quickly,shelookeddownatherhands.“Maybe.”

Helaughed,lowanddeepandthedelightedwarmthinthesoundwasbetterthana

thousandgoosedowncomforters.“Sweetthing,Idon’tthinkI’meverlettingyougo.Okay,so
grandparentscomingfromtheoldcountry,settlinginWyoming,allthatshit.Anyway,they
broughttheirbusinesswiththem,whichwasmakingguns.WhenDadtookoverthe
business,hediversifiedintoshitlikeprotectionandsecurity.Gotsomemajorcontracts,
boughtsomemorebusinesses,madeshitloads—andImeanshitloads—ofmoney.Sothat’s
us,thedeSantisgunempire.”

Hercuriositydeepened.“Whataboutyourbrothers?”
“Yeah,Lorenzothedouchebag.He’sDad’sCFO.Thenthere’sRaff—Rafael.He’sthe

middleone,andisasmuchofanassholeasLorenzo.HemanagesthePRsideofthe
business.Ohyeah,andthenthere’sNero,thoughwedon’tcounthim.”

“Whynot?”
Xavier’shandsomefeatureshardened.“Dadhadanaffairandhe’sthebastardson.Plus

weneverseehimanywaysinceheneverleaveshishouse.”

Sheblinked.“Never?”
“NotthatIremember.Canwenottalkaboutmybrothers?”
Miastudiedhim.Clearlytheywereapainfulsubject.“Whataboutyourmom?”
Theresponsewassoinstantitwaslikealighthadbeenswitchedoff,orshutterscoming

downoverwindows.“Shediedalongtimeago.”Hisvoicehadturnedflat.

Clearlythatwasanevenmorepainfulsubject.
Shewantedtopush,wantedtoknowmore,butsomethingtoldherthatnowwasnotthe

moment.Soshelookeddownatherhandsagain,becauseshecouldn’tdothisandlookat
himatthesametime.Andshedidwanttodothis.Shewantedtogivehimsomething,though
shewasn’treallysurewhyorwhattogive,notwhenshedidn’thaveanything,notthatmeant
anything.Allshehadwasherownstory.

She’dnevergivenittoanyonebefore.
“MymomleftwhenIwasfive,”shesaidquietly.“Idon’tknowwhy.Mygrandmasaidit

wasbecauseshecouldn’tcopewithme,andsinceGrandmacouldn’tcopewithmeeither,
maybethat’strue.Anyway,IlivedwithheruntilIwasaboutthirteen,Ithink.But...she
wasn’taverynicewoman.Shelikedformetohelpheraroundthehouseandstuff,soIdidn’t
gettogotoschoolmuch.”Herfingerswerewhiteknuckledinherlap,whichwasweird
becauseshethoughtshe’dputallthatinthepastyearsago.“She...wasn’tnicetome.She’d
yellalotandsometimes...Sometimesshe’dhitme.Itwasn’tanythingmajor,nothinglike
whatsomeotherkidsgot,andIguessIwasgratefulthatshetookmein,becauseshedidn’t

haveto.Butoneday—”ShebrokeoffasXavierreachedoutandputonelarge,warmhand
overhers.Sheblinkedstaringdownatit,thetannedskinpepperedwithlittlewhitescars.
Somethingshiftedinsideher,steadying.“Grandmausedtosmoke,”shewenton,somehow
needingtosaythis,needingtogetitout.“Sheusedtoputhercigarettesoutonmyarms
occasionally.Oneday,I’dspilledsomethinginthekitchenandshewasmad,andshebeatme
prettyhard.Iwasthirteen.”Xavier’sfingerstightenedonhers.“IknewIcouldn’tstaythere
afterthatbecauseitwasonlygoingtogetworse.So...Ileft.Ididn’thaveanywheretogo,
buttherewasaladywholivedinanalleyneartheapartmentandsometimesshewasniceto
me,soIwenttoher.Shelookedaftermeforawhile,helpedmeout.Iwasafraidthecops
wouldfindmesoImovedaroundandtriedtostayhidden.Itwasscary,butafterawhile...I
kindofgotusedtoit.Inevergotpickedup.OnceIwenttothepolicestationtoaskifanyone
hadreportedamissingkid—Itoldthemitwasmysister—butnoonehad.IthinkGrandma
wasgladI’dgone.”

Xaviersaidnothing,buthishandonherswastight,strong.
Forlongmomentstheyjustsatthereinsilenceandshefeltstrange,vulnerable,butnotin

abadway.Asifthegiftofherstoryhadbeenacceptedandnotonlythat,treasured.

“Youwantahome?”Xaviersaidatlast,hisvoiceevendeeperthannormal.“I’llgetyoua

fuckinghome.”Itsoundedlikeavow.“Onethat’syours,thatnoonecanevertakeawayfrom
you.Whereyou’llbesafe.Ipromise.”

Herthroatcloseduppainfully.Shekepthergazeonthehandoverhers,staringatthe

scarsonit.“Ican’thaveone.Idon’thaveabirthcertificate.Idon’thaveasocialsecurity
number.AndIneedthosebeforeanythingelse.”

Agentlefingercaughtherbeneaththechin,turningherfacetowardhim.“Thenwe’llget

thosetoo,”hesaid.Asifitwaseasy.Asifallhehadtodowassnaphisfingersandthey’d
appear.

“Tonyattheshelterwashelpingme,”sheexplained.“Butit’shard.Idon’tknowmy

Mom’ssurnameandIdon’tknowwhereshewasborn.TonytoldmeIneedthatinformation
forthebirthcertificate,butGrandmanevertalkedabouther.Idon’tthinksheevertoldme.”

Hefrowned.“Whataboutyourownsurname?”
“Idon’tknow,myGrandmaneversaid.”
“Whataboutherthen?WassheborninNewYork?”
Miashookherhead.“ShetalkedeverysooftenaboutitbeingamistaketocomeheresoI

guessshewassomewhereelsefirst”Herjawtightened.Hergrandmotherhadbeenamean,
bitteroldwomanandshedidn’tlikethinkingabouthertoooften.

“Okay,butshehadaname?”
“Yeah.PeopleusedtocallherHazelorMrs.Clare.ButIdon’tthinkClarewasmyMom’s

namebecauseTonysearchedonitformeandcouldn’tfindanything.”

OnesideofXavier’smouthcurvedinanattractive,lopsidedgrin.“Don’tworry,sweet

thing.That’llgivemeenoughtogoon.I’mprettysureIcangetthatbirthcertificateforyou.”

Shebecameconsciousallofasuddenthathewasstillholdingherchin,andthathisother

fingershadcurvedout,lyinglightlyagainstherthroat.Herskintingledwherehetouched,
likelittlesparksscatteringeverywhere.“Idon’tknowhowyoucan,”shesaid,hervoice
soundingthick.“Tonywashavingrealtrouble.”

Xavier’sgrindeepened.“Yeahwell,I’mnotTony.I’vegotalotmoremoneyatmy

disposal,nottomentionashitloadofusefulcontactsinvariousgovernmentdepartments.”

Hisfingerspressedlightly.“I’llgetyourdocuments,Mia.Andoncewehavethem,we’llfind
youthathome.”

Sheshouldn’tbelettinghimdoallthesethingsforher.Sheshouldbeinsistingongetting

herclothesbackthenleaving,goingbacktotheshelter,goingbacktoTonyandallthethings
hewasgoingtohelpherwith.But...Tonyhadn’thadmuchsuccess.Itwaswinterandshe
didn’twanttostayintheshelters.Shedidn’twanttogobacktoheralley,whereitwas
freezinganddangerousanddirty.Ithadonlybeenacoupleofdaysbutalreadyshe’dgotten
usedtobeingwarm.She’dgottenusedtohavingfood.She’dgottenusedtobeingsafe.

Itwasscarytoadmitthat,becausewhenthiswasallover—anditwouldbeoveratsome

point—itwasgoingtobesoveryhardtogoback.Buttherewasapartofherthatwantedto
grabitwhileitlastedandtakeasmuchasshecould,whileshecould.

Whowouldithurttoaccepthishelp?Noone.Andifshedidn’t,theonlypersonwho

wouldsufferwasher.Sowhynotacceptit?Whynottaketheeasyroutewhilethegoingwas
good?BecauseGodknew,shehadn’teverhadeasyinherlife,notonce.

Mialookedintohiseyes,bluelikethesky.“Okay,”shesaid.

Chapter7

Xavierdidn’tthinkheracceptancewouldfeellikevictory,butitdid.

Herdarkeyeswereveryseriousandheknewshemeantwhatshesaid.Butthatwasgood,

becausehe’dmeantitwhenhe’dpromisedherhe’dgiveherthehomesheneeded.Whenhe’d
promisedtogetherdocumentsforher.

He’dalsomeantitwhenhesaidhewasn’tgoingtolethergo.
Thedecisionhadbeenmadethemomentthatsparkofsasshadglowedinhereyesandhe

didn’tquestionit.Heknewitfortruthallthewaydowntohisbones.

She’dbeenabandonedandhurtbypeoplewhoweresupposedtocareabouther.And

whenshe’dlefthome,noonehadcomesearchingforher.She’dbeenleftoutonthestreets
liketrashandnoonecared.

Fuckthat.Hewasgoingtomakesurethatneverhappenedagain.
Becauseshewashisnow,theveryfirstthinghe’deverhadthatwasallhis.Andhewas

goingtokeepher.Hewasalsogoingtomakesureshegoteverythingshewantedandifthat
meantgettingherahome,thenhe’dgetherone.

Goingtomeanshewon’tstaywithyou,though.
Maybe,maybenot.He’dcrossthatbridgewhenhecametoit.Rightnow,thatwasn’tas

importantasthepromiseshe’dmadetoher.

She’dacceptedhishelpandthatmeanthecouldn’tletherdown.Hewouldn’t.
Yeahbutyou’vegotahistoryofbreakingthings,don’tforget.
Xavierignoredthethought.Allthecrapthathadgonedownthenightofhismother’s

ChristmaspartyatthefamilyestateintheHamptonswasover,donewith.Sure,he’dmadeit
hismissiontomakesurenooneevertrustedhimorreliedonhimsince,andsofarheliked
howthathadworkedout.Itcertainlymadeiteasynottohurtpeoplewhenhekepteveryone
atadistance.

Exceptnother.Hewasgoingtomakeanexceptionforher.
Andhewouldkeephersafeifitwasthelastthinghedid.
Herskinwassowarmbeneathhisfingers.Heshouldn’tbetouchingher,hereally

shouldn’tandyetnowhewas,hecouldn’tseemtotakehishandaway.

Shewaswearingthatwretchedpairofsweatshe’dchuckedintothehallcupboardafew

monthsagobecauseithadaholeintheknee,keepingitheldupwithoneofhisoldties.On
topsheworethewhitebusinessshirtshe’dfoundinthelaundrypilethathadcomeback
fromMrs.Thomas,andwhichshe’dappropriatedforherownuseoncesherealizedherown
clotheshadn’tcomebackwiththem.

Ithadannoyedhim,thatshewouldn’twearanythingelsehe’dgottenher,butnowhe’d

changedhismind.Therewassomethingverysatisfyingaboutherwearinghisthings,plus
therewastheaddedbonusofbeingabletoseetheoutlineofhernipplesthroughtheshirt
becauseshedidn’twearabra.

Yeah,hewasn’tthatmuchofagentleman.Infact,hewasprettybasicguyandhewas

okaywiththat.

Ofcourse,whatheshouldbedoingwasgivingherbackheroldclothes,yethehadn’tand

quitefranklyhedidn’tintendto.Hesuspectedthewearingofhisoldclotheswasherversion
ofasilentbattleofwills,butifso,she’dpickedthewrongmantobattlewith.Heliked
winning.

Slowly,helethisfingersslidedownthesmoothskinofherthroat,unabletoresist

indulginghimselfwiththecaress.

He’dbeensogoodthepastcoupleofdays,keepinghisdistancefromherandnotdoing

whateverymaleinstinctinhimwasscreamingathimtodo,whichwastostripherbareand
runhishandsovereveryinchofherpale,slenderlittlebody.

Christ,hedeservedafuckingmedal.
He’dneverbeensorestrainedinallhisdamnlifeanditwasgettingtothepointwhereit

almostphysicallyhurt.Really,heshouldhavegoneoutandfoundhimselfsomeother
womantotaketheedgeoff,buttheideaofdoingthatlefthimcold.

Therewasonlyonewomanhewantedandshewassittingrightinfrontofhim,lookingat

him,herdarkeyeslikebright,brilliantstars.

Whatmadeitworsenowwasthatheknewwhatherhairfeltlikeinhisfingers.Heknew

whathermouthtastedlikewhenhekissedher.Andheknewwhatshefeltlikeagainsthim.

Therewascolorinhercheeks,herfaceglowing.Butthelookinhereyeswaswary,asifhe

wasapotentiallydangerousdogthatshewasn’tquitesurewouldattackherornot.Yet...
shedidn’tpullawayortellhimnottotouchher.

Hemovedhishand,slidinghisfingersaroundthebaseofhernecksohisthumbrestedin

thesofthollowofherthroat.Herpulsebeatagainsthisskin,fast,gettingfaster.

“Youshouldprobablyleave,”hesaid,unabletodisguisetheroughedgeinhisvoice.
“Why?”
“BecauseIdon’tthinkIcankeepmyhandsoffyou.”
Hergazeflickered.“Butyou’vegotonehandonmealready.”
Sharpgirl.“Iknow.Ishouldn’t.”Yethedidn’ttakeitaway.Hestrokedhisthumboverthe

delicateskinofherthroatinstead,feelingtheinstantsurgeofreactioninherpulse.

Theflushinhercheeksdeepenedandheheardhertakeasharplittlebreath.“Idon’t

knowifI...Iwantyoutodothat.”

“SoleavelikeItoldyou.”Shehadto,becausehisrestraintwasrapidlyfraying,especially

withhisstupidbraintellinghimthatallheneededtodowastoslidehishanddowntothe
firstbuttonofhershirtandflickitopen,thenthenextoneandthenext,andthenhe’dbe
abletoseethoseperfectlittletitshe’dcaughtaglimpseofinherbath.

He’dbeensuchagentlemanthatnight.Butyeah,therewerelimits.Therewerealways

limits.

Herlonglashessweptdown,veilinghergaze.Hermouthhadbecomefullandsoft,

openingslightlyasifreadyingherselfforakiss.Andstillshemadenomove.

Itwasasifshewas...waitingforsomething.
SoXavierslidhishanddowntothefirstbuttononhershirtandflickeditopen,watching

herface.Herlashestrembledslightly,herposturestiffening,butshedidn’tdoanythingelse.

Helethisfingerstraillightlyoverherskinbetweenwheretheshirthadopened.Shewas

sowarm,sosmooth,allsilkyandsoftandhe’dneverwantedanythingasbadlyashewanted
toundotherestofthosebuttons.

Ifithadbeenanyotherwomanhewouldhave.Ifithadbeenanyotherwomanhewould

havehadheronherbackandbeenburieddeepinsideherinseconds.Butitwasn’tanyother
woman,itwasMia.Andheknew—hejustfuckingknew—thatshe’dneverdonethisbefore.
Orifshehad,ithadn’tbeensomethingshe’deitherenjoyedorwanted.

Maybeshewasraped.Everthinkofthat,asshole?Ayoungwomanonthestreetsby

herselfissuchatargetandyethereyouare,justfuckinggoinginwithnothingbutyour
owndickonyourmind.

Acoldthreadwoundthroughhim.Careless.Hewasalwayssocareless.Hedidn’tthink

thingsthroughandtendednottonoticeotherpeople’sfeelings.Sensitivehewasnot.

Yetthethoughtofhurtingherwaslikepain.
Hestilledhishandandbegantodrawitaway.
“No.”Thewordwasbreathless,hergazemeetinghis,wideanddark.Shelookedsurprised,

asifshehadn’tbeenexpectingtosayiteither.

“No?”Hefoundhewasalmostholdinghisbreath.“No,what?”
“Idon’t...Ican’t...”Shestopped,lookingawayyetagain,hermouthfirming.
Hispatiencewashangingbyathread.Hewaseithergoingtohavetogetupandleave

himselfor...Well,shit,hedidn’tknowwhatelse.Maybegoandgetsomereliefinthe
showerorsomething.

“Idon’twanttodoanythingyoudon’twant,”hesaidroughly.“Soyou’dbettertellme

whatitisyoudowant,sweetthing.”

“Idon’tknow.”Shesoundeddesperatelyunsureofherself.“I’veneverdonethisbefore.”
“Sexyoumean?”Becausehehadtogetthisstraightforbothofthem.
“Yes.”Sheduckedherhead,hershouldershunching.Whichhadtheunfortunate—well,

unfortunateintermsofhisrestraint—effectofwideningthegapinhershirt,givinghima
glimpseofthesoftcurvesofhertitsandaflashofsmall,pinknipples.

Hedugthefingersofhisotherhandintothearmofthecouch,notgivingashitaboutthe

leather.“So...you’reavirgin?”

“Iguess.”
“Butyouknowhowitallworks,don’tyou?”Aperfectlyvalidquestionwhenhedidn’t

knowwhatheroldbitchofagrandmotherhadtoldher.Ifshe’dtoldheranythingatall.

Herheadcameupatthat,annoyanceglitteringinhereyes.“OfcourseIdo.I’mnot

stupid.”

Heheldhergaze.“Ididn’tsayyouwere.ButIneedtoknowyouunderstandwhatIwant.”
“Iknow.Believeme,Iknow.Iseeitallthetimeonthestreets.”
Xavierletoutabreath,acoldrippleofunderstandingwashingoverhim.Jesus,andhe

couldimaginewhatshe’dseen.Prostitutesprobably,andsexualassault.Sexasatransaction,
asashowofpower.Nothinggood.Nothingpleasurable.

“WhatIwantfromyou,”hesaidcarefully,“isnotinanywaywhatyou’veseenonthe

streets.Doyouunderstand?It’saboutpleasure.Forbothofus.”

Anotherflickerinhereyes.“Well,yeah.Ofcourse.”
“SoyouknowcompletelywhatI’mtalkingabout.”Itwasobviousthatshedidn’t—atleast

itwasobvioustohim.

Shelookedabruptlydownatherhandsagain.“Imean...theguysseemtolikeit.”
Andthewomendidn’t,clearly.
Xaviershifted,turningfullytofaceher,becauseifshethoughthewasgoingtobeoneof

thoseassholesonthestreet,whoforcedwomen,whowantedtoshowofftheirpowerby

hurtingthem,orwhowerejustafterafuckfortheirownselfishreasons,thenshewas
mistaken.

Yes,hewantedher,andmaybebychasingher,itmeanthewasselfishtoo,buthedidn’t

wantthisonlyforhimself.Hewantedthisforheraswell.Hewantedtomakeherfeelgood,
wantedtocanceloutwhatevershe’dseenonthestreetsofsexandshowherwhatitwas
reallylike.

“Lookatme,Mia.”
Sheshookherhead.
Hereachedoutagain,grippingherchinfirmlyandliftingherheadupsoshehadno

choicebuttomeethisgaze.Therewasconfusioninhereyes,andfear,allthesameemotions
thathadbeentherewhenhe’dkissedherthedaybefore.Desiretoo.Butdidsheeven
recognizethat?Hadsheeverfeltitbeforewithanyone?Ifnot,thennodamnwondershewas
soconfused.

“ThekindofsexIwantisaboutpleasure.Forme,sure.Butmainly,Iwanttoshowyou

howgooditcanbeforyou.”Herskinwassosoftagainsthisfingersandhewantedtostroke
her,butthiswasimportantsohekeptstill.“Doyouwantthat?Wouldyoulikemetoshow
youhowgoodIcanmakeyoufeel?”

Shestaredbackathimandhecouldfeelthetensioninherjaw.“Ikindofdo,”shesaid

huskilyafteramoment.“ButI’mafraid.”

“Whatof?Me?”Hehadtoask.
“No.It’smorethatI’veneverfeltlikethis.”
“Neverfeltlikewhat?”
Herthroatmovedassheswallowed.“Like...Iwantsomething.”
Thistimehecouldn’tstophimself,strokingalongherjawwithhisthumb.“Andwhatyou

dowant,sweetthing?”

Hereyeswereverydark.“Ithink...Iwantyou.”
Adeepsenseofsatisfactionmovedthroughhim,alongwithasharptriumphthatmade

himwanttopushherdownandgiveherwhatshewantedimmediately.

Butno.Hewasn’tgoingtodothat.Heneededtobeslow,careful.
Beingwithsomeonewhowasafraidoftheirowndesireswasnewtohim,andhehadno

experiencetoguidehim.Normallyhejustmadestuffupashewentalongusingtrialand
error,butwithMia...Jesus,hecouldn’taffordanerror.

Alreadythisthingwithherwasfarmorecomplicatedthananythingelsehe’dhadwith

otherwomen,andthataloneshouldhavemadehimpullback.Complicatedwasdefinitely
notwhathewasafter.

Yet...shewantedhim.Andhewasdesperatetogiveherwhatshewanted.
Hestaredather,keepinghisgriponherchinfirm.“Thenyoucanhaveme.
Hereyeswidenedalittle.“I...Idon’tknoww-whattodo.”
“Youdon’thavetodoanything.Justkeeplookingatmeandletmedothework.”God,he

couldn’twait.Hewouldshowhereverything.

Reachingout,heflickedopenthesecondbuttononhershirt.
Shetensed,butdidn’tpullaway,sohekeptgoing,tuggingopenthefabric.Thetwohalves

ofthecottongapedandsheshivered.

“Areyouokay?”Hewatchedherfacecarefully.
Shegavealittlenod,tremblingashereachedforthethirdbuttonandundidit,thefabric

gapingevenfurther,revealingthosepretty,perfectlyroundtits.Helethimselflookashe
pulledopentherestofthebuttons,measuringthetensioninherbythetautfeelofherchin
inhishand.

Christ.Aflushhadspreaddownoverherchest,hernipplestightandhard.Hiscockached,

impatientasalways,butsomehowknowingthathewasinchargeofwhathappenedhere,
thathewasresponsibleforherpleasuremadeeverythingeasiertodealwith.

Hewasnotgoingtofuckthisoneup.
Herefused.
Sweepinghisgazebacktoherface,hemadesureshewaslookingathimashereached

outoncemore,restinghisfingersonceagainonherthroat,lettinghergetusedtohistouch.
Beforeeasingthemdown,slidinglightlyoverherchest,tracinglittlepatternsonherskin.

Herbreathinghadchanged,becomingfaster,ragged-soundinginthesilenceoftheroom.

Therewasadarknessinhereyes,thesamekindofdarknesshe’dseeninthemwhenhe’d
kissedher,herpupilsdilated,analmostglazedlookinthem.

“Doesthisfeelgood,Mia?”Hefollowedthecurveofonebreastwithhisfingertip.“It’s

okayifitdoes.You’reallowedtohaveit.Thisisyours,itcan’tbetakenaway.”Hisfingertip
reachedhernipplethencircledarounditacoupleoftimesbeforegentlybrushingoverit.
“Youknowthat,right?”

Sheshuddered,asoundescapingherthroat,somethingsmallandglisteningrunning

downthesideofhernose.

Atear.
“No,”shewhisperedhoarsely.

***

Hewastouchingherandhishandwassowarmanditfelt...good.Sogood.

She’dneverthoughtsexcouldbelikethat.Thatitcouldfeelgood.Sheknewwhatitwas

allabout,ofcourse,butonthestreetssexwaseitheraboutmakingsomeonefeelpowerful
oversomeoneelse,oritwasatooltobeusedtogetstuff.

Sheneverthoughtitcouldactuallybeaboutpleasure.
Xavier’seyesweresobluethecoloractuallyhurt,andhistouchwassolight,sogentle,

shecouldn’tdealwithit.She’dneverbeentouchedlikethisbefore.Infact,shecouldn’t
rememberthelasttimesomeoneactuallytouchedheratallbarXavier.

“No?”heechoed,hisfingerscirclinghernipplethenbrushingoverthetip,sendingjoltsof

sensationallthewaythroughher.Makingherbreathcatchandherskinfeellikeitwas
pullingtighterandtighter.

Shehadn’tmeanttocry,butthetearhadescapedanyway,leavingherfeelingvulnerable

andraw.Howcouldsheexplainthateventhoughshe’dfinallyadmittedthatthisscaryfeeling
wasdesire,shecouldn’tactuallyletherselfhavehim?Thathewaslikealltheothergood
thingshe’dgivenherthatshecouldn’tletherselfhave.Thatshewasafraidofhaving
anythinggoodbecauseitwasonlytemporary,onlyfleeting.

“Ic-can’t,”shechokedoutashishandreachedtocupherbreast,hernipplepressing

againsthispalm.Theheatofhistouchmadehertrembleevenmore.

“Sweetthing,noonecantakethisawayfromyou.It’syours.”

Shegaspedashesqueezedhergentlythenteasedhernipplewithhisthumb,pleasurelike

electricityjoltingeverynerveending.Itfeltwrongtoenjoythis,toletherselfhaveit,andall
shecouldhearwashergrandmother’svoiceinherheadtellinghershedidn’tdeserveit,that
sheneverdeservedanythinggood.

“I’mnotallowed,”sheheardherselfwhisperhoarsely.“Ican’t.”
ButXavierdidn’tletgoandshefoundherselfsuddenlyhauledacrosshislap,hisarma

steelbarbehindhershoulder,hishandcradlingthebackofherheadwhilewiththeother,he
calmlypushedapartthefabricofhershirt,baringhertothewaist.Thenheputhishandon
herbreastagain,pinchinghernipplelightly,drawinganothershudderfromher.

“Thisisn’taboutwhatyou’reallowed.It’saboutwhatyouwant.Whatyouneed.”His

voicewaslow,commanding,makingsomethinginsidehergoquietandstill.“Youwantthis,
Mia.AndIthinkyouneedittoo,whichmeansI’mgoingtogiveittoyou,whetheryouthink
you’realloweditornot.”

Sheshuthereyes,closingoutthesightofhisbeautifulfaceandtheterribleblueofhis

gaze,strugglingjustalittleagainsthim,fightinghimeventhoughshedidn’twantto.Because
thescarsherchildhoodhadleftonherweretoodeepandshehadn’trealizeduntilnowhow
deeptheywent.

ButallXavierdidwasshifthisholdonher,pullingherhandsbehindherandcrossingher

wristsatthesmallofherback,keepingthemthereinagripsostrongshecouldn’tbreakit.

Thenwithhisfreehandhetouchedher—soft,lighttouchesfromherthroattoher

collarbones,toherbreastsandnipples,toherstomach,tracingpatternsoffirealloverher
skin.Sheshivered,herbreathinghoarseinthesilenceoftheroom,moretearsbehindher
eyes,thoughshehadnoideawhyshewascrying.Becauseshedidn’tcry,shejustdidn’t.

“Whyareyoufightingthis?”heaskedsoftly.“AmIhurtingyou?”
Histouchwasslowandleisurelyandaboutasfarfrompainasitcouldget.Butshedidn’t

wanttotellhimthetruth,afraidofwhatitwouldrevealaboutherself.Yetsomehowthough,
itslippedoutanyway.“No,you’renot.It’sjust...Mygrandmawasalwayssoangrywithme.
SheusedtotellmeitwasmyfaultMomleft,thatIdidn’tdeserveallthenicethingsIhad.”
Shesuckedinabreathashishandcuppedherbreast,histhumbgentlystrokinghernipple.
“NotthatIh-hadmuchthatwasnice.ButIguess...Ikindofendedupbelievingshewas
right.”

God,thatsoundedsopathetic,didn’tit?
ExceptXavierwasn’tlookingatherasifshewaspathetic.Hisstrokinghandhadstilled

andtherewassomethingfierceinhiseyes,somethingangry.“Bullshit.”Thewordwasa
growl.“Shewasn’tright.Whatyoudidn’tdeservewasherbeatingyou.Herputtingher
fuckingcigarettesoutonyourskin.Herleavingyouonthefuckingstreetforyears.”Hisvoice
hadgottendeepandgravellywithfury,andsheshivered.Notbecauseshewasafraidofhim,
butbecausenoonehadeversaidthosethingstoherbefore.

Noonehadevertoldhershedeservedanythingatall.
Herthroatconstricted.Shelookedupathisbeautifulface,intothoseeyesthatwerebluer

anddarkerthanherownpatchofskyaboveheralleyway,herownwindowintofreedom.“Do
youreallybelievethat?”sheaskedthickly,hatingherselffortheneedynoterunningthrough
hervoiceandyetunabletorepressit.“Imean,I—”

Hishandmovedfromherbreast,cuppingthesideofhercheekinawaythathadallthe

breathleavingherbody,takingeverythingshe’dbeengoingtosayalongwithit.“Yes.”The

certaintyinthewordwasemphatic,asifhewaslayingdownthelaw.“You’rebeautiful,
strong,stubbornashell,andthemostdeterminedpersonI’veevermet—barmyfather.Your
grandmaontheotherhand,wasahorribleoldbitchandshedidn’tdeserveyou.”

“But—”
“Butnothing.”Xavier’sthumbstrokeddownthesideofhercheeklightly,thenhishand

fellaway.“ShallIshowyouwhatyoutrulydeserve,Mia?WhatIthinkyoudeserve?”

Thetightnessinherthroathadmoveddowntoherchestandshefoundshecouldn’t

speak.Halfwanting,halfafraid,shecouldonlynod.

Gently,heslidhishandaroundherbreastagain,stroking,teasinghernipple.“Thisfeel

good?”Hisvoicewasallsoftandroughanddark.

Shenoddedagain,ajerkymovement.Becauseitdidfeelgood.Itfelt...God,likenothing

she’deverfeltbeforeinherentirelife.

Hisgazeroamedoverherfaceashisfingersstrokedher.“Thisiswhatyoudeserve,sweet

thing.Thisfeeling.Thispleasure.It’sallforyou,understandme?Sowhydon’tyoujustrelax
andletmegiveittoyou?”

Shewantedthat.Wantedhishandsonherskin,himtouchingherslowly,carefully,asif

shewasdelicateandprecious.Sowhycouldn’tshehaveit?Whatwouldbesowrongin
lettingherselftakeit?Fightingwashardandshe’dhaditsohardforsoverylong.Didn’tshe
deservesomethinggoodforachange?Justthisonce?

He’dtoldhershedeserveditandmaybeshedid.
“Yes,”shesaidhuskily.“Yes,please.”
Thelookinhiseyesintensifiedandheslidahandfurtherdownherbody,tothe

waistbandofhersweatpants,wherehepulledatthetiearoundherwaist,looseningit.Then
hetuggedthefabricaway,pushinghisfingersunderthewaistbandandthebeneaththe
cottonofherpanties,movingunerringlybetweenherthighs.

Shegaspedatthesensation,jerkingagainsthisrestraininghold,buthedidn’tstop,his

fingersbrushingthecurlsofhersex,thenpushingdownfurther.Instincthadherwantingto
keepherlegsclosed,yetsomehowtherewasnostrengthinthemashishandpushedbetween
them,hisfingersslidingoverherslickflesh.

Shegroaned,thesensationtoointensetohandle.
“Oh,sweetthing...”Hisgazewasimpossiblyblueasthatexploringhandpushedfurther,

cuppinghersexgently.“You’rewet.”

Eventhoughshekindofknewitwasn’t,shehadtoask.“Isthatab-badthing?”
Hismouthcurved,thelookinhiseyeshotandgettinghotter.“Fuck,no.It’sbecauseyou

likewhatI’mdoingtoyou.Youlikemetouchingyou.”Asiftoillustratethepoint,hishand
movedagain,histhumbstrokinggentlyoverherclitwhilehisfingersplayedoverherfolds,
circlingslowlyaroundtheentranceofherbody.

Andshedidlikeit.Verymuch.
Sheshookthengaspedashemovedhishandtopulldownthesweatpantsandherpanties,

baringhercompletely,beforeshiftingthathandrightbacktowhereithadbeen,betweenher
tremblingthighs.Hisgazeflickeddowntowhathewasdoing,thencamebacktoherface.

Shewasn’tfightinghimanymore,butshiftingunderhishand,herbackarching,herhips

moving.Restlessandneedyandaching.Shefeltlikealivewire,pleasureacurrentrunning
allthewaythroughher,buildinghotterandhigher.Drowningthesoundofher
grandmother’svoicetellingherhowshe’dneverwantedtobesaddledwithagrandkidather

ageandhowtheremusthavebeensomethingwrongwithMiatodrivehermotheraway.How
Miadidn’tdeserveallhergrandmotherdidforheranddidn’tsheknowwhatafucking
problemshewas?Thatshe’dbetterbegood,she’dbetterbegrateful,otherwiseshewasgoing
togetit.

Drowningoutthepainofthewoodenspoononhershouldersandthebacksofherthighs,

andthecigarettebuttsburnedintoherskin.

Drowningouteverythingbadandreplacingitwithsomethingsogoodshecouldhardly

standit.

Anyremainingtensionwentoutofher,andasXavier’sfingereasedinsideher,histhumb

circlingagonizinglyslowlyonherachingclit,sheopenedhermouthandhisnamecameout
ofit,hoarseanddesperate.She’dneversaiditbefore,andhisgazecametohersinstantly.
Andsomethingflaredinthedarkmidnightofhiseyes.

Abruptlytheholdonherwristsreleasedandheslidhishandupherspinetothebackof

herhead,cradlingit,hisfingerscurlingintoherhairandholdingontight.Thenhebentover
herandtookhermouthlikeheownedit.

Sherealizedthenthatkisshe’dgivenherbeforehadbeenapreludetosomethingelse.

Thestartofagentlerainshower.Butthis...thiswasthethunderstorm.

Histonguepusheddeepintohermouth,demandingandhot,andhisfingersinherhair

weresotightshecouldn’tmove.Allshecoulddowasliethereandtakeit.Butthatwasokay,
thatwasperfect.Becausebythenthestormwasexactlywhatshewanted.

Miaopenedhermouthandlethimdevourher,herbodyarchingunderhishandasheslid

hisfingerindeep,histhumbpressingdownherclit.Itfeltsogood,thesharppleasureand
theheatofhisbodyunderneathher,thetasteofhimashekissedher.Hesurroundedher
everywhereandyetitwasn’tenough.Shewantedmore.

Shetriedtokisshimback,clumsyandawkwardwithitbecauseshe’dneverkissedanyone

before,notlikethis,buthejusttuggedonherhair,pullingherheadbackevenfurtherand
devouredherdeeper,hungrier.

Shegotlostinit,gotlostinthepleasurethatseemedtobuildrelentlesslywitheachslow,

easyslideofhisfinger,eachhardpressofhisthumb.Untilshewasarchingupintohishands,
makingsoundsshe’dneverheardherselfmakebefore.

Instinctively,shereachedforhim,windingherarmsaroundhisneck,pullinghimcloser

assheliftedherhips,movingtoincreasethefrictionbecausethisnotbeingenough,this
wantingsomethingmore,wasdrivinghercrazy.

Shesaidhisnameagain,overandover,untilhedidsomethingwithhisthumbonherclit

andeverythinginsideherdrewsotightshewantedtoscream.Thenitexplodedandshedid
scream,acrythatwascaughtbyhisdemandingmouthandswalloweddown,andshewas
shakinginhisarms,allthoughtutterlygone,awareofnothingbuttheimmensecurrentof
pleasurethatpulsedthroughherentirebody.

Ittookheralongtimetocomebacktoherself,fortheshort,sharpaftershockstofadeand

forhermindtoactuallyworkagain.

ShecouldfeelXavier’sbodybeneathher,tenseasawoundspring.He’dliftedhismouth

fromhersbuthisgriponherhairhadn’tlessened,andthelookinhiseyesashestareddown
atherwasblazing.

Foronelongmomentsheheldhisgazeanditwaslikewalkingthroughfire.Shefelt

scorchedbothinsideandout.

Thenabruptlyshewasn’tinhislapanymore,butbeneathhim,presseddownontothe

couchwithhishardbodyonhers.Andhewaskissingheragain,thatdesperate,open-
mouthed,feverishkissthatdemandedeverything,forcinghishipsbetweenherthighsand
pressingthehardridgebehindhiszipperagainsthersensitiveflesh,rockingagainstherasif
hecouldn’thelphimself.

Thepressureofhimhitherclit,sendingmorejoltsofthatincredibleelectricitythrough

her,andsheshivered,tremblingalloveragainandalittleafraid,becauseshedidn’tknowit
waspossibletofeelitagain,notsosoon.Yetshecouldn’tseemtobringherselftopushhim
away.Therewassomethingsohungryabouthim,sodesperate,andshe’dneverexperienced
anyonebeingdesperateforher,notlikethis.Itmadeherwanttogivehimwhatevershe
could.She’dneverfeltthatwayaboutanotherpersonbefore,she’dneverletherself.But
Xavier...hewasdifferent.

Sheliftedhershakinghandsandslidherfingersintohishair,revelinginthesoftnessof

it.She’dthoughtjustbeforethatshedidn’thaveanythingtogivehim,butthatwasalie.
Therewassomethingelseshecouldgivehim.Herself.

Itwastheonlythingshehadandeventhoughitwasn’tworthmuchofanything,shegave

itanyway,curlingherfingersintothethicksilkstrandsofhishair,andlettinghimtakeas
muchashecouldfromher.

She’dhopeditmightcalmhimorsoothehiminthewayhemanagedtosootheher,butit

didn’t.Heseemedtobecomeevenhungrier.

Eventuallyhewrenchedhismouthfromhers,kissingdownherthroat,nippingatthe

delicatetendonsofherneck,trailingdownoverherchesttoherbreasts.Hepausedthere,
makinghergroanashelickedonenipple,circlingitwithhistonguebeforedrawingit
completelyintohismouth.

Thewetheatagainsthernipplemadeherpantandshecouldn’tkeepstill,moving

restlesslybeneathhim.Hemadeagrowlingsounddeepinhisthroatandsuddenlyhesatup,
kneelingbetweenherspreadlegs.Thelookonhisfacewassharpandhungry,thefaceofa
stranger.Hiseyesglittering,goneevendarkerthanthemidnightbluetheyalreadywere.He
didn’tspeak,notoneword.Buthischestwasheaving,hisbreathinghardandfast.

Reachingintohisbackpocket,hepulledouthiswalletandtooksomethingoutofit,

tossingthewalletontothefloorbesidethecouch.Hedidn’tlookawayfromher,staringat
herlikeawolfstaringatarabbit.

Shetookashakybreath,becausesheknewwhatwascoming.

Chapter8

Xaviercouldn’tcatchhisbreath.Miawaslyingstretchedoutonthecouch,thehalvesofher
shirtopen,revealingthesmall,perfectcurvesofherbreastsandtheprettypinkflushthat
extendedallthewaydownherbody.

Sofuckingbeautiful.Herskinwaspaleandsoveryfragile,soverybreakable.Hedidn’t

knowwhysuchabreakable-lookingwomanshouldmakehimfeelsofuckingdesperatebut
shedid.

Herdarkeyeswerewideandhecouldseeapprehensionflickeringthroughthem,andthat

smallvoiceinsidehimwastellinghimtopullback,leaveheralone.Buthecouldn’t.Hejust.
..couldn’t.

Hishandwasshakingashereachedoutandcuppedhercheek,strokingthesoftnessofit

withhisthumb.“It’sokay.”Hisvoicewashoarse.“Iwon’thurtyou.”

No,hewouldn’t.Ifhekeptsayingit,hewouldn’t.He’ddiefirst.
Hejusthadtotakeitslow.
Exceptthewayshe’dcomebefore,holdingontohimsotightly,withthesoundofhis

nameinhermouthandthesoftwetheatofherpussyagainsthisfingers...Christ,itwas
justtoomuchforhim.Hefeltoutsidehimselfwithneed.

Holdingthecondominonehand,heflickedopenthebuttonofhispantswiththeother,

tuggingdownthezipper,gettinghiscockout.

Shewaspanting,herdarkeyesdippingdownandwidening.Hewantedtosaysomething,

reassurehersomehow,buthecouldn’tfindanywords.Ithadalwaysbeeneasytosay
something,he’dnevercaredwhatcameoutofhismouth,butnow?Therewasnothing.He
couldn’tthinkofasinglething.

Sohestayedquietasherippedopenthecondompacketandprotectedhimself.Said

nothingasheroughlypulledawayhersweatpantsandpanties.Hewantedtopausethen,to
lookather,nakedandpantingbeneathhim,buttherewasnotime.Justnofuckingtime.

Hecamedownoverher,slidinghisarmsaroundandunderher,cradlingher.Theheatof

herbodyblankedhismind,windinghisdesperationeventighter.Pushinghishipsbetween
herthighs,hepressedhiscockagainstthehot,slickfleshofherpussy.Shegaspedashe
rockedslightly,hittingherclit.

Takeitslow,asshole.
Christ,hewastrying.Butthatgaspwentstraightthroughhimandhecouldn’tstop

himselffromrockingagainstheragainandagain,pressingalittleharder,thenbendingto
findhermouthandkissingher.Becauseitwasn’tenough,itjustwasn’tenough.

Hewashungry,fuckingstarving.Forhertasteinhismouthandthemusky,delicious

scentofherarousalinhisnostrils,thefeelofherskinagainsthisandtheheatofherpussy
wrappedtightlyaroundhim.Itwasliketherewasaholeinsidehimandheneededhertofill
itup.Allofher.Every-fucking-thingshehadtogive.

Heslidhistongueintohermouth,kissingherharder,deeper,allthoughtsaboutgoing

slowlyandbeinggentlefrayingunderthesheerweightofhisdesperation.Shewastrembling,

herpalmsrestingagainsthischest,andhecouldfeelhertrytokisshimback.Shewasshy,
tentative,herinexperiencesoobvious,andhefounditsoincrediblyhotthatitonlymadehim
wantherevenmore.

Slowitdown,youprick.Youknowyouhurtpeoplewhenyoudon’tthink.
Hisbreathsawedinandout,aharshsound,andhetried,hetriedsogoddamnhardto

holdontowhatlittlerestrainthehadleft.Butshewassohotandherownbreathingwasout
ofcontrol,andwhenheshiftedagain,easingtheheadofhiscockagainsttheentranceofher
pussy,allthatwetheatwastoomuchforhim.

Slidingahanddownunderneathher,heliftedherthenflexedhiships,thrustingindeep

andhard,takingthecryshemadeintohismouth.

Shewentrigidbeneathhim.
Toofast,youbastard.Youhurther.
Thethoughtwasfleeting,incandescentforabriefsecond,andthenitwasgonebecause

thetightgripofherpussyaroundhiscockhadprettymuchannihilatedhim.Heshuddered,
tryingtoholdstillandnottomove,givinghersometimetogetusedtohimashekissed
alongherjawtoherear.“Easy,”hemurmured,roughandhoarse,tryingtoreassureher.
“Easy,sweetthing.”

Shewhimpered,herbodytwistingunderneathhisasiftryingtofindsomekindofrelief.
Christ,hecouldbarelyholdhimselftogether,couldbarelythink,becauseherlittlepussy

waspulsingaroundhimandthemovementsshewasmakingweredrivinghiminsane.But
againhetried,forcinghimselftogetittogether.

“I’msorry.”Hekissedheragain,nuzzlingdownhernecktoherthroat,lickingthesweat

thatgleamedonherdampskin.“Icouldn’twait.Ijust...wantyou.God,youfeelsogood.”

Shetwistedagain.“It...hurts.”Thewordswerecrackedandbarelyaudible,butheheard

them.

That’swhatyoudoisn’tit?Youhurtpeople.Becauseyoujustdon’tfuckingthink.
Abone-deepfearwoundthroughtheheat,andheheldhertighteragainsthim,liftinghis

headtolookdownintoherface,hisheartbeatgoinglikeafuckingdruminhishead.Shewas
deeplyflushed,hereyeshugeandblack,andhecouldseethepaininthemandthefear,loud
asashout.

“Whydoyoualwaysdothis?Whydoyoualwaysdotheonethingthatwillhurtmethe

most?”

Theechoofanothervoice,atanothertime,resonatedbeneathhisthunderingpulse,and

histhroatwentsotighthecouldhardlybreathe.Shewassosoft,thiswoman.Sovulnerable
andbreakable,andfragile.Whatthehellhadhedone?

Buthecouldn’tthinkofthat,nothere,notwithher.Whathehadtodowasmakethis

better,makeherfeelgood,takethepainaway.Andnotfuckup.Notagain.

Hebent,brushinghislipsoverhers,tryingtofindthepatiencehe’dhadbefore,the

gentlenesshe’dfoundwithher.“Iknow,”hesaidraggedly.“I’llmakeitbetter.I’llmakeyou
feelgood.Ipromise.”

Thensheshiftedagainbeneathhim,anotherrestlessmovement,andheshudderedatthe

pleasurethatroaredinhishead.“OhJesus...”Thewordswerelittlemorethanagasp.“I
havetomove.Ihaveto.”Theneedwasirresistible,andhewasdrawinghishipsbackthen
pushinginagainbeforehecouldstophimself.

Shegroaned,hereyelashesfallingshut,hermouthopening,archingagainsthim,and

afterthattherewasnogoingslow,nobeingeasy.Hecouldn’tdoeither,notwhenshewas
nakedbeneathhimandthewetheatofherpussywasgrippinghimsotightlyhecouldalmost
believehewasgoingtoembarrasshimselfrightthereandthen.

Sogood.Sofuckinggood.
Hegatheredheragainsthim,movingfasternow,pushingintoallthatslickness,feeling

herinnermusclesgripontohimtightasifshewastryingtokeephiminsideher.Itwasallhe
coulddonottolosehisheadcompletelyandchasetheclimaxheknewwasgoingtobreak
himapartwhenithit.

Butnotyet,Godnotyet.
He’dalreadyhurther.Hewasn’tgoingtoleaveherwithpain,notevenifitkilledhim.
Hekissedheragain,hermouth,herjaw,herneck,herthroat,anywherehecouldgeta

tasteofhersmooth,deliciousskin.“Isthatbetter?”Hepulledhishipsbackthenslidindeep
again,choosingadifferentanglethistime,feelinghershiverandshakebeneathhim.“Does
thatfeelgood?”

“Yes.”Thistimethecracksinhervoiceweren’tpain,butsomethinghuskier,throaty,and

whenherfingersslidintohishair,grippinghim,heknewitwasn’ttopullhimaway“Oh...
yes...”

Thankfuck.
Thecoldnessinsidehimeased,thepleasureoverwhelmingeverything,andhebegantoset

uparhythm,deepandslow,makingherwritheandgaspasshetriedtochasethefriction.He
keptonehandinthesmallofherback,guidingherhipstoshowherwhattodo,butshewasa
fastlearner,pickinguptherhythminnotime.

OhJesus,hewasn’tgoingtolast.Shewaskillinghim.
Urgingherlegsupandaroundhiswaist,heslidevendeeper,andwhenhekissedher

again,shemetit,andthistimehecouldtasteherownhunger.Itwassosweet,makinghim
evenmoredesperate.

Everythingbegantoslipawayfromhimthenandhebegantomovefaster,drivinghimself

deeper,harder.Therestoftheworldreceded,therewasonlythis.OnlyMiaandherarms
aroundhim,herbodybeneathhis,herlegswrappedtightaroundhiswaist.Onlythatwas
real.

Shewhimpered,herfingerswrappedtightinhishair,soheslidhishanddownbetween

theirbodies,findingthehardnubofherclitandslickinghisthumboverit,timingitwithhis
thrustssothatshebegantogivelittlehiccupingsobs.Thensuddenlysheturnedherhead
intohisneck,herbodyconvulsingbeneathhis,herpussyclosingaroundhimlikeafist.

Andallhisrestraintsnapped,andhewasdrivinghimselfintoher,overandoveragain

untiltheclimaxroseupinsidehimandsmackedhimoverthebackoftheheadlikea
hammer.

Hesawstars,probablyevenacoupleofplanets,maybeeventheheatdeathofthe

universe.Itwassofuckingbeautifulhecouldn’tspeak.Couldn’tevenmove.Hejustlaythere,
feelingasifallhisboneshadbeenremoved.

Itwasn’tuntilsheshovedathimthatherealizedthatmaybehewasalittlebigtobe

restinghisfullweightontopofsuchaslenderwoman.Heshifted,puttinghishandsdownon
eithersideofherhead,restinghisweightonthemratherthanonher,thenlookeddownat
her.

Sheblinkedupathim,breathinghard,staringathimasifshe’dneverseenhimbeforein

allherlife.

“Youokay?”HehopedtoChristthatshewas,silentlyswearingthathe’dpunchhisown

faceifhe’ddoneanythingtohurther.

“I...thinkso.”Hergazeroamedoverhim.“Areyou?”
Itwasaweirdquestionandonehecouldn’trememberawomaneveraskinghimaftersex.

Andnowthathethoughtaboutit,no.No,hegoddamnwellwasn’t.Somethinghadhappened
tohimandhedidn’tknowquitewhatitwas,buthewasdifferent.Hewaschanged.Somehow
itfeltlikesomethinginhimhadcrackedand...hewasn’tsurehelikedit.

“Yes,”helied,andshiftedagain,easinghimselfawayfromher.
Distance,heneededdistance.Notquestioningit,hegotup,turningtowardthebathroom.

“Justdealingwiththecondom,”hemuttered.“Stayrightthere.”

Inthebathroom,hegotridofthecondomthenputhispalmsagainstthemarblebasin

andleanedonthem,takingacoupleofbreaths,hisheartracing.Thecrackedfeeling
persisted,andlikeathreadofrustinstainlesssteelitmadehimfeelweak,undermined.

Ithadtodowithher,heknewthat.Withlosingcontrolandjusttakingher.Ignoringthe

voiceinhisheadthattoldhimtotakeitslowandeasy,tobegentle.Hehadn’tbeenanyof
thosethings.He’dbeenrough,hard,shovinghimselfinsideherandhurtingher.

“Whydoyoudothat,Xavier?It’slikeyouhurtmedeliberately.”
Hismother’svoiceechoedaroundinhisskull,andhehadtoturnonthetaps,splashhis

facewithicycoldwatertogetridofit.Okay,sohewasprettymuchanassholewhenitcame
towomen,buthe’dbeentryingwithMia,hereallyhad.

She’djust...gottenunderhisskinsobadlyhehadn’trealizedthefullextentofhis

desperationforheruntilshe’dbeennakedandtremblinginhisarmsfromtheeffectsofthe
climaxhe’dgivenher.Untilshe’dsaidhisname.

Grabbingatowel,hedriedhisfaceandstraightened.Apartofhimwantedtodowhathe

normallydidafterhe’denjoyedaquickanddirtyscrew,whichwastokissthewoman
concerned,gethiskeys,andgetthefuckout.

Buthecouldn’t.BecausethiswasMia.Avulnerable,homelesswoman,andhe’d...hurt

her.He’dlostitandhurtherand...Christ...hehadtomakeituptohersomehow.

Cursingunderhisbreath,Xavierfoundawashclothandranitunderthehottapforafew

moments.Thenhetookitbackintothelivingarea,onlytofindMiawiththeshirtwrapped
tightlyaroundher,reachingforherpantiesandsweatpants.Hercurlswereawildhaloof
blackaroundherheadandherfacewasstillpink.Shegavehimthatsamewarylookshe
alwaysdidasheapproached,andalthoughthatcrackedfeelinginsidehimwastellinghimto
getoutwhilehestillcould,thatwarylookwasevenworse.

Hewentovertoher,pulledthesweatpantsoutofherhand,thengatheredherupintohis

arms.

“Hey,”shesaid,glaringathim.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Lookingafteryou,”heansweredshortly,turningandcarryingherdownthehallway,

headingtowardhisbedroom.

Whenhegotthere,hesatputherdownontheedgeofthebed,pulledtheshirtoffherso

shewasnakedentirely,thengentlymovedthewashclothbetweenherthighs.Shemadea
protestingsound,tryingtopushhishandaway,butheignoredit,kneelingonthefloorin
frontofherandeasingherthighsapart,movingthehotclothagainsthersensitiveflesh.

Sheshiveredthensighed,relaxing.“Thatfeels...nice.”

“Ihurtyou.Ishouldn’thave.”Histhroatached.“I’msorry.”
Hershoulderliftedasifitwasn’tanybigdeal.“It’sfine.It’ssupposedtohurt,right?At

leastthat’swhatIheard.”

“Yeah,whichmeansIshouldhavegoneslower.Ishouldhavebeengentle.”Hestroked

theclothoverherskin.Thereweremarksonherhips.Redmarks.Andmoreonherneck.

Youputthosethere.It’syourfault.It’salwaysyourfault.
Thethoughtstuckthereinhishead,asplinterhehadn’tevermanagedtogetout.
“It’sokay.”Miawasfrowningathim.“Imean,ifIhadn’twantedyoutodothat,you’d

haveknownaboutit.”

Butitwasn’tokay,anddeepinside,heknewthat.

Chapter9

Xaviersaidnothing,settingthewashclothtothesideandrisingtohisfeet.Thelookonhis
facewasguarded.Wasitsomethingshe’dsaid?Orwasitthewholehim-hurting-herthing?

Ithadhurtwhenhe’dpushedinsideherandyes,she’dbeenafraid.Havingsixfootand

moreoflean,muscularmalelyingontopofherhadbeenscary,especiallywhenshe’dnever
experienceditbefore.She’dneverhadaguybetweenherlegs,neverhadhiscockpushing
againsther.Butthen,she’dneverhadaguyputhisarmsaroundher,holdherclose,presshis
mouthtoherthroatasifhecouldn’tgetenoughofher.Neverhadaguywhisperabouthow
badlyhewantedher,howhecouldn’twait.Howhewassorry,buthejusthadtomove.

Peopleneverapologizedtoher.Neverever.
She’dfeltsosmallbeneathhiminitially,sofragileandbreakable.Yet,weirdly,whenhis

handshadslidbeneathher,gatheringherclose,andshe’dfelttheshudderthathadgone
throughhim,sheknewthatinaway,hewasjustasfragile,justasbreakableasshewas.

Hishandshadbeenshaking,andthelookinhiseyeswhentheymethershadbeen

desperate.

Thepainhadbeenmorethanshe’dthought,andhe’dbeenalittlerough.Butthenhe’d

startedmovingandsomemagichadhappened,thepainebbingandsomethingelsetakingits
place.Somethingthathadfilledherinawaythathishandonhercouldn’t.

He’dbeeneverywherearoundher.Hishandsunderher,hisbodyontop,hiscockpushing

deepinside,thespicyhotscentofhimsurroundingher.Andstrangely,thefragile,breakable
feelinghadvanished,replacedbythesensationofbeingutterlysafe,utterlyprotected.That
sensethatnothingcouldgettoherwhilehewassurroundingher,nothingcouldhurtheror
harmherinanyway.

Thenhe’dstartedtomoveandthepainwentawaycompletely,theachebetweenherlegs

deepeningintoneed,intodesire.Forhim.She’dpulledhimtoher,forgettingeverythingbut
theneedtohavehimasclosetoherasshecould,wantingevenmore.Andeventhoughhe’d
beeninsideher,ifshecouldhaveclimbedinsidehiminreturn,shewouldhave.

She’dneverknownanythingquiteasintenseastheorgasmthathadhitherwhenhis

handhadpushedbetweenthem,whenhisfingershadtouchedherclitandhe’dthrustso
hardintohershe’dthoughtshemightbreak.

Andreally,youdidbreak.
Yes,shehad.Completely.Inthebestwaypossible.Whenshe’dcomebacktoherself,

she’dfeltlikeanewlyhatchedbabychick.Everythingseemednewandbright,andtheelectric
blueofhiseyeshadfeltlikethebeginningandendoftheentireworld.

Comparedtothat,alittlepain,alittlefear,wasnothing.She’dhadplentyofbothinher

life.Himpushinginsideherwasnothingtothecigaretteburnstoherskinortheimpactof
thewoodenspoononthebacksofherlegs.God,eventhephysicalpainseemedsmallin
comparisontothewordsthathadraineddownonherforsevenyears.“Worthlessgirl.Stupid
bitch.Nowonderyourmommyranaway.Can’tyoudoanythingright?Ishouldhavegiven
youaway,butno,IkeptyoubecauseI’magoodperson.Youshouldbefuckinggrateful.”

Mialookedupathim.“What’swrong?”
“Nothing.”Hegaveheranotheronce-over,asifcheckingtomakesureshewasokay.“Are

yousureyou’renothurtanywhereelse?Thereare....”Hetrailedoffasifhecouldn’tbring
himselftosaymore,gesturingtoherhipthenherthroat.

Sheglanceddownandsawtheslightmarksonherskin.Itgaveherashock,thoughnotin

abadway,notatall.Infact,shealmostlikedthem.TheymadewhatsheandXavierhaddone
real.Shelookedbackathim.“They’rejustmarks.Andthey’regoodones.”

Buthewasn’tsmiling.Infact,helookedgrim.“Nothinglikethatisgood,Mia.”
“WhatImeantwas,they’retherebecausewhatwedidwasgood.Whatyoudidmademe

feelwasgood.It’snotlikeyouputacigaretteoutonmeoranything.”

Helookedawayatthat,hisbeautifulfacehardening.Asifhedidn’tbelieveher.
Theblackshirtheworewasallcrumpledandhalfofitwascomingoutofthewaistbandof

hispants,andshewantedtogoovertohimandunbuttonit,takeitoffhim,explorehim.She
wantedtotouchhimthewayhe’dtouchedher.

She’dneverwantedtodothattoamanbefore,andevenifshehadwantedto,she’dnever

haveactuallydoneit.Butthingsweredifferentnow.Xavier’shadshownherwhatshe’dbeen
missingallthistime:simplehumancontact,thecomfortofbeingheldbysomeone,the
intensepleasureofagentlehandonherbareskinandawarmmouthonhers.

Andiftherewasanythingshewantedmoreofinherlife,itwasthat.Clothesandpretty

toiletriesandfancyfoodshecouldleave,butXavier’stouch?Hellno,shewantedasmuchas
shecouldpossiblygetofthat.

Shestoodupandtookasteptowardhim,notcaringabouthernakedness.“Xavier?”Itwas

nicehewasconcernedabouther,butshedidn’twantinghimthinkinghe’dhurtherorthat
whatthey’ddonetogetherhadbeenbad,becauseithadn’tbeen.“I’mokay.Reallyandtruly.”

Heturnedhisheadandmethergaze,andforasecondhejustlookedather.Thenhelet

outabreath.“Okay.”

Shetookanother,hesitantstep.“Perhapswecould...tryitagain?”
Anexpressionshecouldn’tinterpretcrossedhisface.“I’msorry,sweetthing.I’vegot

somestufftohandleandit’sprobablybetterforyouifwewait.”Hesoundeddistant,the
warmthinhisdeepvoicegone.

Acoldfeelingbrokeoverherandsuddenlyshewishedshewasn’tnakedafterall,thatshe

hadsomeclothesorsomethingtowraparoundher.Swallowingbacktheurgetogoandsiton
thebed,andpullthesheetaroundher,shestayedwhereshewas.“Areyousure?Imean...”
Shestopped,notknowinghowtoflirtorbeseductive.

Buthewasalreadyturningaway,headingstraightforthedoorway.“Notrightnow,”he

saidoverhisshoulder.“Maybelater.Isuggestyoutakeanice,warmbathinthemeantime.”

Thenhewasgone,disappearingoutthedoorway,leavingherstandingtherenakedinthe

middleoftheroom.

Miastoodthereasecond,frowning.Thenshesatdownonthebedandreachedforthe

comforter,drawingitaroundher.

Whatwaswrongwithhim?Wasither?Hadhegottenwhathe’dwantedoutofherand

nowhedidn’twantheranymore?Hadthisallbeenanelaboratetricktogethertosleepwith
himandnowhe’ddoneso,hewasgoingtokickherbackoutonthestreet?

Asmallkerneloficehardenedinhergut.
Youidiot.Thesethingsalwayscometoanend,youknowthis.

Miabitherliphard,thepaindrowningoutthethoughtinherhead.Shehadtothinkthis

throughlogically.WouldamanlikeXavierreallytakeherhome,giveherabathandabed,
plyherwithfoodandbuyherclothes,simplytogethertosleepwithhim?Whenhecould
haveanywomanhewantedanytimehewanted?

Thatdidn’tmakesense.Besides,he’dtoldhershedidn’thavetogobacktothestreets,

thathewouldn’tlether.She’dbelievedhimthenandshebelievedhimnow.Butsomething
hadchangedhismind.Somethinghadcausedhimtopullaway.

Ithadtodowiththesex,withhimhurtingher.
Sheglancedtowardthedoorway.
Shouldshegoafterhim?Demandtoknowwhatitwas?Itwasn’tsomethingshe’ddone,

shedidn’tthink,butwhatelsecoulditbe?

Doyoureallywanttoknow?
Miaswallowed.Yes.Yes,shedidwanttoknow.Andnotjustbecauseshewantedmoreof

him,butbecauseshehadn’tlikedthatlookinhiseyesashegazedatthemarkshe’dlefton
her.Asifhe’ddonehersomerealdamage.Hehadn’t.Sheknewwhatrealdamagelookedlike
anditwasn’tafewbruisesandsomesorenessbetweenherlegs.

But...maybenowwasn’tthetimetoapproachhim.Maybesheshouldlethimhavehis

distance.Itwouldgiveherachancetothinkabouthowshewasgoingtodealwiththis,
becauseshewasn’tquitesure.Settingouttocomfortsomeoneortalktothemaboutwhat
waswrongwasn’texactlyfamiliartoher.Caringaboutwhattheymightsaywasn’tfamiliar
either,andyetshefeltitallthesamelikeanacheinherchest.

Shedidn’tknowwhatwasgoingonwithhim,butonethingwasclear—shehadtofind

out.

***

Fivedayslater,Xaviersweptintothevast,marbledfoyeroftheDeSantisCorptowerin
LowerManhattan,amassiveflashyspearofabuilding,allsteelandglasswiththekindof
arroganceonlybillionscouldbuy.

He’dalwayslikedthebuilding—itappealedtotheshowmaninhim—butashemadehis

waytotheprivateelevatorthatwentstraightuptohisfather’soffice,theDeSantistowerwas
thelastthingonhismind.

Whatheshouldhavebeenthinkingaboutwasthemeetinghisfatherhadsprungonhim

thatmorningabouttheranch,butactually,hewastoobusyplanningthespecialpicniche
wasgoingtoorganizeforMiathatevening.

She’dtoldhimshe’dneverbeenonapicnic,andsonaturallyhehadtomakesureshe’d

haveone.Theycouldn’tgooutofcourse—notwhenitwassocold—sohe’ddecidedthey
wouldhaveoneonthelivingroomfloor,withallofherfavoritefoods,plusafewnewthings
totemptherpalatewith.

Overthepastfewdays,he’dbecomequiteadeptatsneakinginnewfoodsforhertotry

andslowlyshe’dcomearoundtothingslikeolivesandsmokedsalmon,thoughcaviarand
pâtémadeherscrewuphernoseindistaste.

Butitwasn’tonlynewfoodhe’dgottenhertotry.Heshowedherhowtooperatethe

controlsoftheTVtoo,andstereoandalltheothergadgetsthroughoutthehouse.Then,when

itbecameclearthathercomputerskillswerelacking,hesatdownandshowedherhowto
operatehislaptop.Thenhegaveheracookinglesson—howtoboilanegg,sincethatwasthe
onlycookingheknew.And,ofcourse,heshowedherhowtomakecoffee.

Shewasaquicklearner,takingineverythinglikeasponge,anditwasonlyadaybefore

shewasuncoveringnewfunctionsonthegadgetsthatevenhehadn’texploredfully.Andshe
certainlymadebettercoffeethanheevercould.

Hetalkedtoher,gotrhapsodicaboutWyomingandtheranch.Shetoldhimstoriesfrom

thestreets.Lifeforhersoundedsodark,sogrim.Hecouldn’timaginewhereshe’dgottenher
strengthfrom.

Andthentherewerethenights,wherehediscoveredwhatasensuallittlethingshewas

andhowhungryshemadehim.Shewasaquicklearnertheretoo,hergrowingconfidence
pushinghisrestrainttotheverylimit.Buthe’dbeengood,keepingholdofhiscontroland
makingsurehedidn’tloseitthewayhehadthatafternoononthecouch.

Hewasproudofhimselfforthat.Proudofhimselfthatshewaslosingherwarinessand

herfeararoundhim,thatshewasstartingtotrust.

Itmadehimlessofacareless,insensitiveassholewhobrokestuff,andmorelikeaguy

whocouldactuallytakecareofanotherpersonwithouthurtingthem.

Theelevatorpingedthen,andthedoorsopenedontothehundredthfloor,wherehis

father’sofficewassituated.Hisshoesmadenosoundashesteppedoutontothethick,
luxuriousblackcarpetofthewaitingarea,buttheblondeatthemassiveblackdesktotheleft
oftheelevatordoorsraisedherheadallthesame.

“Gorightin,Mr.DeSantis,”shesaidcheerfully.“He’sexpectingyou.”
“Thanks,Gen,”hesaidashestrodetowardthehugedoubledoors.
Jesus,heshouldn’tbethinkingofMianow.Notwhenhisfatherwasatlastgoingtobe

formallyhandingoveroftheranchtohim,theculminationofyearsofhardwork.

Liftinghishand,hepushedthroughthedoorswithslightlymoreviolencethanwas

strictlynecessary,enteringthemassivespacethatwashisfather’scorneroffice.

CesaredeSantis,patriarchofthedeSantisfamilyandheadofDeSantisCorp,wasseated

behindhismonolithicdesk,whichstoodinfrontoffloor-to-ceilingwindowsthatoffered
primeviewsoftheNewYorkskyline,makinghimlooklikethemasterofallhesurveyed.
Whichwasn’tanaccident,naturally.

Hecertainlyactedlikeit,amassivefigureeveninhisseventies.Stillhawk-eyedand

craggilyhandsomewithsalt-and-pepperhairandanunsmilingmouth.Therewasapowerto
him,acharismathathissonshadallinherited,thoughXavierneverusedhisforanything
muchbeyondcharmingwomenintobed.

Hestartedtosmile,thenrealizedhisfatherwasn’talone.
Sittinginachairinfrontofthedeskwashismiddlebrother,Rafael.Hewastheirfather’s

PRguyandnofanofXavier’s,thoughtobefair,hehadreasontobepissedsincehewasthe
oneconstantlycleaningupafterXavier’svariousescapades.

Still.Whatthehellwashedoinghere?
Rafaelgazedblandlyathim,hisblue-grayeyesexpressionless,givingabsolutelynothing

away.

AndofcoursenomeetingofhisbrotherswouldeverbecompletewithoutLorenzo,the

oldestdouchebag,lookinglikehestillhadthatstickdirectlyuphisbutt.Hewasstanding
nexttothedesk,armsfolded,grayeyesutterlycold.“Gladyoucouldtakesometimeoutof

yourbusypartyscheduletojoinus,”hesaidicily.“Don’tworry,though.Youshouldbeback
toyourregulardrinkingandfuckingroutineshortly.”

“Ouch.”Xavierbaredhisteethathisoldestbrother.“Thatnearlyhurt.”
“Bequiet,Lorenzo,”Cesaregrowled.“Ididn’tgetyouandRafaelinheretolistentoyour

opinionsonyourbrother’slifestylechoices.”

Lorenzoglancedathisfather.“Whydidyougetusinherethen?”
Cesarepaused,givingthemeachacold,levellook.“BecauseI’msickoflisteningtothe

threeofyouendlesslyharpingonaboutyourmother’sfuckingranch.Justabouttheonly
personwhoisn’tgivingmeapaininthebuttaboutitisyoursister.”

“Myconcernisfortheranch,”Lorenzosaid,innowaycowedbyCesare’stone.“It’sin

debtuptoitseyeballs.Anymoreandit’s—”

“Hey,funnilyenough,Iknowwhatdebtis,”Xavierinterrupted,beforehisbrothercould

reallygetonhishighhorse.“Somethingtodowithmoney,right?”Probablyamistaketowind
theassholeup,buttoobad.Heshouldn’thavecomeintoXavier’sapartmentearlierwithout
announcinghimselfandscaringMialikethat.Andyes,hewasstillmadaboutit.

Lorenzodidn’tdeigntoreply,buttheglitterinhiseyessuddenlygotabouttenthousand

degreescolder.

“Xavier,”Rafaelwarnedquietly.“Notagoodidearightnow.”
“Andyoucangotohelltoo.”Xaviergavehismiddlebrotherahostilelook.“Idon’tgivea

crapwhetherit’sagoodideaornot.WhatIdogiveacrapaboutistheranch.”Heliftedhis
gazetoLorenzo’s,sohe’dgetthepictureaswell.“It’smine.Dadsigneditovertome,andI’m
keepingit.YouguyscankeepallthisNewYork–businessshit,Idon’twantit.ButWyoming?
That’sallmine,understand?”

Therewasasilence.
Lorenzoopenedhismouth.
“Holdyourtongue,”Cesareorderedflatly.
Lorenzocloseditagain,givingtheirfatheralookthatwouldhavefrozenfire.
Hewasadifficultbastard,Lorenzo,butatleastheknewwhichsidehisbreadwasbuttered

on.

Cesareignoredhisoldestson,pullingopenadrawerinhisdesk,gettingsomethingout,

andplacingitonthedesktop.Apieceofpaper.ThetitledeedtoBlueSkies.

“Thishere’sXavier’s,”Cesaresaid,hisaccentsuddenlyshowingthroughdespitetheyears

ofhard-earnedNewYorkpolish.“Ipromisedittohimifhesecuredthatdamngovernment
contract,andhedid.Soit’shis.”Hegavehistwooldersonsapenetratinglook.“Any
questions?”

“Ihaveone,”Rafaelsaidmildly.
“Toogoddamnbad.”Cesaresatbackinhischair.“XaviergaveuphisstakeinDeSantis

Corpforthesakeoftheranch,soifit’syourinheritanceyou’reworriedabout,thinkagain.”

“It’snottheinheritance.”Lorenzobegan.“It’sabouttherightpersontobehandling—”
Cesarecuthimoff.“Idon’tgiveashitwhetherhe’stherightpersonornot.Restassured,

Lorenzo,you’regoingtohaveyourownproblemstoworryaboutprettysoon,especiallyifyou
wantwhatIknowyouwant.Youtoo,Rafael.I’vegotplansforthepairofyou.”Hepushedthe
pieceofpaperacrossthedesktowardXavier.“Inthemeantime,here.Takeit.Andgood
riddancetoit.”

Interesting.Sohisfatherhadplansforhisbrothersdidhe?

Idly,Xavierwonderedwhattheywere,thenrealizedhedidn’tmuchcare.Theonlything

hecaredaboutwasrightthereonhisfather’sdesktop.

Theonlything?Really?
Butheignoredthatthought,justlikeheignoredhisbrothers’hostilegazes,movingover

tothedeskandpickingupthetitledeed.Thereitwas,hisnameacrossthetop.

Thefirstthinghehadthatwasfinallyhis.
“How’sthehomelessshelterthesedays,Xavier?”Rafaelaskedquietlyfrombehindhim.

“Heardyoureallyputyourtimein.Gotlotsofgoodexposure.Wasthatpartofthedealtoo?”

Xavierpaidnoattention.Foldingupthedeed,heputitcarefullyinhispocket.
He’dalwayslikedhisjobatDeSantis.Therewasnothingbetterthantestingnewproducts

andthengettingtodemothemforprospectivebuyers.Gunswerehisthingafterall.Butit
wasajobthathadbeengiventohim,notonethathe’dwantedforhimself.Ajobwherehe’d
causetheleastamountofdestruction,orsohisfatherhadalwayssaid.

Yes,becausedestructionwashisthing,wasn’tit?
Well,therewasonethinghewasn’tgoingtodestroy.Theranch.Lorenzowasright,itwas

uptoitseyeballsindebt,buthewasgoingtofixthat.Becauseithadbeenhismother’s.

Andyoucan’tfixherorwhatyoudid.Notanymore.
Xaviersethisjaw.No,hismotherwasdead.Pillsbythebedsideandhalfabottleofscotch

gone.Hecouldn’tfixthatanymorethanhecouldfixhimself.

Buthewouldfixthis.
He’dmakeherproudifitwasthelastthinghedid.
Xavierstraightened.Lookedhisfatherintheeye.“Iquit,”hesaid.
Thenheturnedonhisheelandwalkedout.
Noonecalledafterhim,butthenhedidn’texpectanyoneto.Hisfatherhadalwaysknown

whatXavierwanted,andXavierknewwhathisfatherwanted:histroublemakingyoungest
sonoutofDeSantisforgood.

WhichwasfinewithXavier.Hehadnoplanstocomeback,notifhecouldhelpit.His

motherhadn’teveradjustedtolifehere,andwhenitcamedowntoit,neitherhadhe.Parties
andboozeandplayingwithgunsweremerelywaysofpassingthetimeuntilhecouldgetona
horseandgetoutinthehills,rideoutoverthelandthatwashisandhisalone.

Hisalone.Helikedthat.Andnow,thefirstthinghewasgoingtodowasgodowntohis

office,speaktohisstaffmembers,andstarttheprocessoftyinguphislifeinNewYork.
Becausereally,thequickerhegotoutofherethebetteritwasforallconcerned.

Astheelevatortookhimdown,helettheeuphoriagriphim.Finally—fuckingfinally—he

wasout.Hewashisownman.Hewasnolongerbeholdentoanyone.

Whatagoodfeeling,onehehadn’thadinfartoolong.
Bythetimeheapproachedhisoffice,he’dforgottenallabouthispicnicforMia.Allhe

couldthinkaboutnowwasgettinghomeandtellingherabouthisplans.Hell,he’dbringher
outtoWyomingwithhimtoo.She’dloveit.Lotsofopenspacesandmountainsandsky.
She’dneverbeenanywherelikethat,neverbeenonaranch.Man,he’dlovetoshowherallof
that,watchthoseprettyblackeyesofhersgetallwideandamazed.Seeherlightup.

Hischestgottightandhecouldn’thelpgrinninglikealunaticashewentoutthefrontof

thebuilding.Yeah,shewasgoingtoloveitandhewasgoingtoloveshowingher.

Thedayturnedintoalongone,however.Therewasmoretodothanhethought,andquite

afewproblemstosortout.Problemsthatendedwithhimtakingsomeclientsouttoabarfor

whatwassupposedtobeafewdrinksandendedupbeingagooddealmore.

Hedidn’ttakemuchnoticeofthetime,onlyrealizingafterhe’dstumbledintothe

elevatoronthewayuptohispenthousethatitwasaftermidnight.

Thelightscameupautomaticallyashesteppedoutoftheelevatorandlookedaround,

vaguelyexpectingMiatobetherebeforerealizingonceagainthetimeandthatshe’d
probablybeinbedbynow.

Vaguelydisappointed,hewentintothekitchenandfixedhimselfthestrongestcoffeehe

could,shakinghisheadtogetridofthevodkafumes.Standingatthecounter,sippinghis
coffee,hemadeplansinhisheadaboutwhathewasgoingtodofirst.

HewastemptedtosimplyleaveeverythinghereandtaketheDeSantisjetoutto

Wyomingfirstthing.Whichwouldofcourseberecklessandstupid,andwouldleavehis
fatherintheshit.Thenagain,theoldmanwouldbegladtoseethebackofhim,sowhythe
hellnot?Itwasn’tafinalmove,justareconnaissancemissiontogetthelayofthelandand
seewhathehadtoworkwith.

Alistofthingstodobegantoassembleitselfinhishead,andhewasstillthinkingit

throughashefinisheduphiscoffeeandmadehiswaybacktohisbedroom.Bythetimehe’d
headedintothebathroomtotakeaquickshowerthenmovednakedovertothebed,hehada
goodideaabouthisplansforthenextfewdays.

Therewasawoman-shapedlumpunderthecomforter,andwhenhedrewitbackhe

discoveredMia,nakedandcurledup,fastasleepinthemiddleofthebed.

Instantlytheremainingliquorfumesvanishedandhiscockhardened.
Shelookedsosmallcurledupthereinhisbed.Paleandslenderandvulnerable.Herhair

wastangledalloverthepillows,herlasheslyinginthick,blackfansonhercheeks.Her
breathingwasslowandevenanddeep.

Smallandbeautifulandperfect.
Hisheartthumped,aheavy,painfulbeat,andtheweirdestsenseof...needswept

throughhim.

He’dbeenthinkingoftakinghertoWyoming,toshowhersomethingdifferent.Togive

heranewexperience,broadenherhorizonsabit.Butthisneedwentdeeperthanthat.Itfelt
like...moresomehow.

Shesighedthen,rollingoverontoherback,herhandsmovingupandaboveherhead,

abandonedinsleep.

Hischestconstricted.
Shewantedahomeandhe’dtoldhershecouldbehereaslongassheliked,butwhatif...

shestayed?Whatifthathomewaswithhim?

Youcan’tdothat.Youbreakthoseyoucareabout,remember?
Yeah,buthe’dbeensocarefulthispastweek,sogood.Hecoulddothis.Hecouldkeepher

safe.Sure,Wyomingwasn’tNewYorkandmaybeshewouldn’tlikeit,butshit,maybeshe
would.Maybeshe’dwanttostaytherewithhim.

Permanently.

Chapter10

AcoldshockhitMia,becauseithadn’tbeentoolongagothatwakinguptofindaman
standingoverhercouldonlymeanbadthings.Buttherewasonlyonemansheknewwho
hadblueeyeslikethat.Xavier.

Everythingreadjusteditself,andsherememberedwhereshewasandwhatshewas

supposedtobedoing.

ShewasinXavier’sbedroom,inhisbed,waitingforhimtogethome.He’dtoldherhe’d

hadtogointotheofficethismorning,soshe’dspentthedaysurfingaroundonNetflixand
totallyindulgingherselfbywatchingawholebunchofcrapmovies.

She’dgottenalittleworriedasthehourshadtickedbyandnighthadfallen,butthenhe’d

sentheratexttellingherhe’dbelate,soshe’ddecidednottowaitupandjustgotobed
instead.

Alongwiththeclothesfromthatdepartmentstore,Xavierhadalsogottenhersomesilky

pajamas.Butalthoughshelikedthefabric,shepreferredtosleepinhisbednaked.Itwasstill
anoveltytosleepwithnothingbetweenherandtheexpensivecottonsheetsandshelikedit,
especiallywhenthesheetssmelledofhim.Shefoundthatcomforting.

Shethoughtshemighttrytostayawakeuntilhe’dgottenhome,butdespiteherbest

intentions,assoonasshe’dsnuggledup,she’dfallenasleep.

Butshewasn’tsosleepynow,becauseitwasn’tXavierinoneofhisexpensivecustom-

madesuitsstandingbythebedrightnow.ItwasXaviercompletelyandutterlynaked.

Evenafterfivedaysofsleepingeverynightwithhim,thesightofhimbarestillmadeher

blink.

Nakedmenhadbeenfewandfarbetweeninherlife—infactshecouldquitesafelysay

she’dneverseenone,neverwantedtoseeone.ButXavier...

Hermindwentblankeverytime.Becausehewassobeautiful.
Wideshoulders,smooth,tannedskinstretchedoverthekindofbodyshethoughtagod

mighthavehad.Therewasn’tanounceoffatonhim.Hewasallhard,chiseledmuscle,lean-
hippedandsleekasatiger.Shecouldn’thelpherself,hergazewanderingdowntowherehis
cockroseupagainsthisstomach,justasbigandhardanddemandingastherestofhim.

Hermouthwentdry.Nowonderithadhurtearlier.Hewasn’tasmallman.
“You’rereallylate,”shesaidthickly,sittingup.“Iwasstartingtoworry.”
Hesmiledassomethingtightenedinherchest.Hewasbeautifulwhenhesmiledtoo.

“Don’t.Itwasonlyworkshit.”Hisgazedrifteddownherbody.“GladI’mhomenow,though.
Veryglad.”

Arippleofheatmovedoverherskinandherbreathcaught.Wantingsomeonewasn’t

somethingshewasusedto,butshewasgettingusedtowantinghim.

Onlyhim.
Thethoughthitherhardinthechest,likeablow.Shehadn’teventhoughtaboutbeing

withsomeoneelsesincejustbeingwithhimwassonew,but...no.Ofcourseitwasonly
him.Shecouldn’tevenimaginebeinglikethiswithsomeoneelse.Becausehowwouldshe

evercometotrustanyoneelsethewayshetrustedXavier?Shewouldn’t,andthatwasthat.

Sheleanedbackagainstthepillows.“Whatworkshit?”
Hisgazemovedbacktohersagain,hissmileturningalmosttender.Itmadethetightness

inherchestconstrictevenfurther.

Withoneofhisfluidmovements,Xaviergotintobedwithher,slidinghisarms

underneathherandgatheringherinclose.Secondslatershewasonherback,withhimhard,
hot,andheavyontopofher.

Shestruggledtogetabreath,theheatofhisbareskinagainstherscancelingoutevery

thoughtinherhead.

Hebent,nuzzlingherthroat,thebrushofhismouthlightandteasing.“Dadfinallygave

methedeedtotheranchandI...”Hestopped.Raisedhisheadandmethergaze,hisblue
eyesbrilliant.“Iquitmyjob.”

Miadrewinabreath,tryingtoresisttheurgetoliftherhipsagainstthedistractinghard

ridgethatwaspressingbetweenherthighs.“Youquit?”sheechoedstupidly.

“Yeah.”Thelookonhisfacewasbrightwithexcitementandanticipation,likeaboyonhis

birthdaymorning.Excepttherewasaheatunderneathitallthatwasverymuchnotboyish.“I
mean,Ilikemyjob,butit’sneverbeenwhatIreallywantedtodo.TheranchiswhereI’ve
alwayswantedtobe.Ineededtogetitputinmynamefirst,though,andnowitis.NowI
don’tneedtobeinNewYorkanymore.”

Somethinglurchedinhergutandinstinctivelyshepulledherhandsfromwherethey

werecrushedbetweenthemandputthemonhisshoulders,asifshewashangingontohim.
Asifshedidn’twanttolethimgo.“Oh?”Thewordwashuskyandabitshaky,andshehoped
hedidn’tnotice.

Butofcoursehedid.
Hissmiledeepened.“Don’tlooksotragic,sweetthing.Howdoyoufeelaboutavacation

inWyoming?”

Thelurchingthinginhergutlurchedtheotherway,likethedeckofashipinastorm.He

wantedhertogowithhim?Hewasn’tgoingtojustleaveherhere?Desperately,shetriedto
schoolherface,tonotletanythingofthelittleglowthatbegantoflickerintolifewhereonly
tightnesshadbeenbefore.

Shedidn’tlikethethoughtofbeingherealone,notonebit.
“Youwantmetocomewithyou?”
“Ofcourse.”Heloweredhisheadsohismouthbrushedhers,thelightestkiss.“Sowhatdo

youthink?It’sverydifferentthere.Thinkblueskyandmountainsandhorses.”

Shecouldhardlyimagineit.NewYorkwasallsheknew.
Itdoesn’tmatterwhereyougo.Especiallynotifit’swithhim.
No,hangon.Shecouldn’tgetaheadofherself.Shehadherownplansandtheydidn’t

includearanchinWyoming.Theyweremuchmorepractical,muchmorebasic.Sheneeded
thosedocuments,thenaplaceofherown.

Miafoundherselfstrokinghisshouldersunconsciously,lovingthefeelofhispowerful

musclesbeneaththehotvelvetofhisskin.Shepausedhermovements,tryingtogetmoreair
inherlungs,thebreathlessfeelingincreasing.“I’mnotsure,Xavier,”shesaidslowly.“What
aboutmybirthcertificate?Mysocialsecuritynumber?Youweregoingtohelpmegetthose.
Andthen...myhome.”

Hissmilewaslikethesuncomingoutonacoldwinter’sday.“Wecangetthemin

Wyoming.Imean,peopletheregenerallyseemtogettheirs.”

Hewasteasingofcourse,butshedidn’tfeellikesmiling.Thiswasn’tajoketoher.“And

whataboutahomeofmyown?NotthatIneedyoutogetthatformebut—”

“We’llgetyouthattoo.Whereveryouwanttolive.NewYork,Wyoming...”Acuriously

intentexpressionburnedsuddenlyinhiseyes.“Aslongasyourhomeiswithme,Idon’tcare
whereitis.”

Withhim?Hewantedherhometobewithhim?
Afeelingrosesuddenlyinsideherlikeabubbleabouttoburst,pressingagainsttheinside

ofherribs,displacingherlungs,herheart...everything.Shedidn’tknowwhatthatfeeling
was.Ithurtandyetatthesametimeitmadeherfeelasifhe’dhandedhertheentire
universeonaplate.

“Youwant....me?”Hervoicesoundedhoarseandshaky.“Tolivewithyou?Seriously?”
Xaviershifted,hishandsmovingtocupherfacegentlybetweenherpalms,histhumbs

gentlystrokingalonghercheekbones.Theexpressiononhisfacemadeherthroattightand
hereyesfeelallprickly.“Yes,sweetthing.Iwantyou.Iwantyoutocomewithme.Wecan
tryitoutinWyomingandifyoudon’tlikeit,we’llfiguresomethingelseout.”

Onceyoudothis,there’snogoingback.Youcan’tjustrunoutofthebuildingandbackto

youralleyway.

No,andgoodthingsneverlasted,didthey?
Hishandswerewarm,histouchmakinghershiver.“Whataboutifyoudon’twantme

aroundanymore?WherewillIgo?”

“Hey,”hemurmuredsoothingly,histhumbsmovingtotraceherlowerlip.“Iwillnever

notwantyouaround,understandme?Sothat’snotevenaquestion.”

Hewantedher.Hereallywantedher.
Shewasafraidtoletherselfbelieveitandyet...God,shewantedtogotoWyomingwith

him.Shewantedtoseehorsesandmountainsandblueskies,allthethingsthatacoupleof
weeksagoshe’dneverevenconceivedof.

Butmostofall,shewantedhim.Whichwasterrifying,becausewhatifshelosthim?
Youwillsurvive.
Ofcourseshewould.She’dsurvivedonthestreetsofNewYorkforyears,andifitallwent

toshitwithhim,she’dsurvivethattoo.Sheknewhowtodothatifnothingelse.

Flatteningherhandsonhisshoulders,sheslidthemdownhisback,feelingtheflexand

releaseofhonedmusclesbeneathherpalms.“Okay,”shemurmured.“I’llcomewithyou.”

Hissmilebecamewarm,intense.Hisstrokingthumbspaused.Thenhebentandkissed

her,atfirstsoftandgentle,then,coaxingherlipsopenwithhistongue,deeper,hotter.

Shesighed,givingherselfuptotheheatofhim,totherich,darkalcoholictasteofhis

mouth,digginghernailsintothehardmuscleofhisbackasthekissbecamealittlemore
desperate,alittlemorefierce.Hishipsflexedasherockedagainsther,thelong,hardlength
ofhiscocknudgingoverherclit,makinghershiver.

Ifshewasn’tcareful,hewasgoingtotakechargeagain,andthoughthathadbeenfinethe

pastcoupleofdays,shewasmoreconfidentnow.Shewantedtorunherfingersalloverhis
tannedskin,wantedtokisshim,tastehim.Strokehiscock,feelhowhardhewas.Watchhis
facewhenshedid,seetheexpressiononit.

Miashiftedherhandsandpushedathischest,makinghimlifthismouthfromhers.
Hiseyeshaddarkenedintomidnight.“Whatisit?”heasked,hisvoicearoughgrowl.

“Iwanttotouchyou.”
“You’realreadydoingthat,sweetthing.”
“Notlikethis.Iwant...more.”Shespreadherfingersoutonhischest,thefeelofhishot

skinandthelightprickleofhairagainstherpalmsamazing.“Iwanttotouchyouthewayyou
touchme.”

Hegrinned.“WhoamItoarguewithalady?”Hisarmstightenedaroundherandhe

rolledover,carryingherwithhimsoshethatfoundherselflyingontopofhiminsteadof
underneath.“Wheneveryou’reready.Allofthis”—heletgoofherandsweptahanddownthe
lengthofhisbody—“isyours.”

Keepingherpalmsonhischest,Miaslowlypushedherselfupsoshewassittingonhim,

straddlinghisleanwaist.Hewasgrinning,hismouthcurvingindulgently,andshefeltavery
realurgetowipethatgrinoffhisface.

Shewantedtoaffecthimthewayhe’daffectedher.Makehimbreathlessandshakyand

unsure.Makehimholdontoherthewayshe’dhadtoholdontohim.

Miaglanceddownatwhereherhandsweresplayedonhischest,drinkinginthesightof

him,allleanpowerandhardstrength,theshapesofhismusclesclearlydefinedbeneathhis
skin.Experimentally,shetrailedherfingersoverhispecs,enjoyingthefeelofhim,brushing
overanipplewithherfingertip.

Beneathherexploringhand,shefelthismusclestense.Soshediditagain.Andagain.

Thensheglancedathisface,watchingasshetouchedhim.Hewasstillgrinning,butithada
slightlyfixedlooktoitnowandtheglitterinhiseyeswasmorepronounced.

Wasthather?Wassheaffectinghim?
Shemovedherhands,placingthemoneithersideofhishead,thenshebentandkissed

histhroatthewayhekissedhers.Again,themusclesinhistorsorippledinresponse.She
lickedhimcautiously,tastingthesaltyheatofhim.Delicious.

“Mia.”Hisvoicesoundedrougher.Thismustbeworking.
Shemovedlower,trailinghermouthoverhisskin.Kissinghim,lickingoneflatmale

nipple,thentheother.Nippinglightly.Teasing.

Hishandssettledonherhipsallofasudden,heavyandsure,squeezingher.“Don’tget

toocarriedaway,sweetthing.I’monlyhuman.”

Hesoundedbreathlessandwhensheglancedupathimagain,hisgrinwasdefinitelyvery

fixed.Colorburnedinhischeeks,awildlightinhiseyes.

Shewasdoingthistohim.Shewasmakinghimfeelthis.
Aweirdrushwentthroughher,adrenalinepumpinginherveins.
Onthestreets,she’dfeltpowerlessandvulnerable.Unseenbymostofthepeoplepassing

byher,noticedonlybythosewhowantedtotakeadvantageofher.Buthereshewasn’t
unnoticed,andhereshewasn’tpowerless.No,therewaspowerinthis.Powerintouching
him,inputtingthatlookonhisface.

Sheaffectedhim.Thiswasher,allher.
Miabentagain,lickingherwaydownthecorrugatedmusclesofhisabs,feelingthemflex

tooasshetastedhim.Saltwasheavyonhertongueaswellasasubtlespicethatwent
straighttoherhead.Shecouldn’tseemtostopherself,movinglowerandlower.

“Mia,”hemurmuredthickly.“Whereareyougoing?”
Butherhandswerealreadythere,strokingtherigidlengthofhiscock,examiningit.She

hadn’ttouchedhimtherebeforeandshe’dneverimaginedaman’sdickwouldactuallyfeel

likethis,sohotandwithsuchsmooth,softskin.Shestaredatit,closingherfistaroundhim,
watchinginamazementashehardenedevenfurther.

Then,becauseshesimplycouldn’thelpherself,sheleanedforwardandlickedtheheadof

hiscock,suddenlydesperatetotastehimtheretoo.

Salty.Hetastedsaltyandhotand...God,hewasdelicious.She’dneverrealizedthis

couldbegood,thatshe’dactuallywanttotasteamanlikethis.Butshedid.Sosheopened
hermouthandswallowedasmuchofhimasshecould.

“Christ,Mia.”Xavier’shandsweresuddenlyinherhair,holdingonsotightitalmosthurt.

“Idon’tknow—”

Shegavealight,experimentalsuckandhebrokeoff,cursing.Shelikedthat.Likedhearing

theroughnessinhisvoice,likedfeelingthesharpprickleofherscalpashetuggedonher
hair.

Soshediditagain,wrappingherfingersfirmlyaroundhimasshesuckedonhimand

thenlickedaroundthesmoothskinofthehead.Hisbreathcaughtandhishipsmovedunder
her,thrustingupward.

Needingtoseehimallofasudden,Mialookedup,watchinghisface.Thegrinwasstill

there,butitheldnothingofamusementnow,onlyaferalhungerthathadherownbreath
catching.Hiseyeswereblack,theglitterinthemfierce,savage.Hisbodybeneathherswas
tense,hismusclesstandingoutbeneathhisskin.

God,helooked...soincrediblyhot.
Thiswasallherdoing.Shewasmakinghimlikethis.Desperateandneedyandwanting.
“Mia,”hesaidhoarsely.
Butsheignoredhim.Insteadshegrippedhimtightandswallowedhimdownoncemore,

asmuchasshecouldtake.

Onlyforhisowngripinherhairtotightenandpullheraway.

***

Hecouldbarelyhearanythingoverthethunderingofhisownheartandhewasn’tquitesure
whathewasdoing.Becausewhatkindofidiotpulledawayawomanwhenshewasinthe
middleofgivinghimthebestheadhe’deverhadinhislife?

Astupidfuckingidiot,obviously.
Sowhatthehellareyoudoingthen?
Actually,hecouldn’tworkitout.Heonlyknewthatthelightlittlelicksandexperimental

littlesucks,thetentative,shytouchesandsoftteasingkissesweredrivinghimabsolutely
crazy.

Especiallythewayshelookedathimasshedidit.Herdarkeyesweresobrightandyetso

serious,watchinghimasshetouchedhim,studyinghisreactionsandadjustingwhatshedid
tosuithim.He’dneverhadaloverlookathimlikethat.Asifhisreactionswereimportant.
Asifhispleasurewasimportant.

Normallyitdidn’tbotherhimwhowasincharge.Aslongaseverybodygotoff,hewas

happy.Andifshewantedtobeinchargetonight,thenwhythehellnot?Hewasstillriding
thatWyominghigh—madeallthesweeterbyheragreeingtocomewithhim—soherhavinga
bitoffunnowwasallgood.

Exceptitturnedouthewasbothered,andhecouldn’tfigureoutwhy.
Hereyeshadgottenwide,herbeautifulmouthallpoutyandsoft,herhairtwinedinhis

fingerslikesilk,anditwasridiculous.Shewasabouttogivehimaphenomenalblowjob,and
herehewas,pullingheraway?Hadhegonenuts?

No,she’sonlytreatingyoulikeyou’reimportant,likeyou’reworthsomething...and

you’renot.Youknowyou’renot.

“What’swrong?”sheaskedhuskily.“DidIhurtyou?”
Suchasimplequestion,andyetforsomereasonitwentthroughhimlikeanarrow,

punchingdirectlythroughhisribcageandskeweringhimrightthroughtheheart.

Shewasworriedabouthurtinghim?
“No.”Hisvoicehadgoneroughandgravelly.“I’vejustchangedmymind.”
“ButI—”
Xavierreacheddownandhauledheruphisbodybeforeshecouldfinishthesentence,

thenherolledoveroncemore,pinningherbeneathhim.

Yeah,thiswasbetter.Thiswashowitshouldbe,wherehewastheonegivingher

pleasure,nottheotherwayaround.“Don’targuewithme,sweetthing,”hemurmured,
kissingher.“It’syourturnnow.”

God,shewassohot.Andherscentwasdrivinghimcrazy.
Hebrokethekiss,ignoringtheprotestingsoundshemade,trailinghismouthdownher

throatandoverherchesttoherbreasts.Helickedanipple,teasingitwiththetipofhis
tongue,circlingituntilsheshiveredunderhim,thensuckingitintohismouth.Miagasped,
herbackarching.Herskinwassosmoothandtasteddelicious,sweet,likevanilla.Hesucked
hardonher,teasingherothernipplewithhisfingers,thenpinchingher,makinghergroan
andtwistonthebed.

Hedebatedtorturingherlikethisforalittlewhilelonger,buthisownhungerwasgetting

toomuchforhim.Thesmellofherwasmakinghismouthwaterandhedidn’tseeanyreason
tokeepdenyinghimself,sohereleasedherbreast,kissedhiswaydownherstomach,and
spreadherthighswiththeweightofhisbody.

“What...areyoudoing?”Hervoicewasbreathless,panting.
Hedidn’tanswer.Itwouldbecomeclearsoonenoughandanyway,hedidn’twanttowaste

anytimetalkingaboutwhathewasgoingtodo.Hejustwantedtofuckingdoit.

Shifting,hesettledhishandsjustabovetheinsideofherknees,holdingherlegsspread

wide.Thenhebentandnuzzledthesoft,tenderskinofherinnerthighs.Shetensedin
anticipation,herbreathcatchingaudibly.“Xavier...”

Hedidn’twait,lickingher,straightupthemiddleofherpussythenlingeringonherhard

littleclit.Shecriedout,herbodytensinglikeshe’dbeenelectrocuted.Buthedidn’tstop
becauseshetastedlikeheaven.Likehoneyandapples,alltartandtangyandsweetatthe
sametime.Hecouldn’tgetenough,lickingheragainandagain,spreadinghersilky,slick
foldswithhisfingerssohecouldexploreherasmuchashecould.

Miatwistedandhefeltherfingerspushintohishair,grippingontohimsotightlyitwas

likeshewastryingtopullitoutbytheroots.Heignoredtheslightpain,histonguefinding
theentrancetoherbodyandpushingindeep,lovingthehigh,desperatesoundofthecryshe
made.

Herhipsliftedhelplesslyagainsthistongue,soheputhishandsonherhipsandheldher

down,keepingherstillashelickedinandoutofher,thenfindingherclitagainandlicking

thattoo,circlingandteasing.Makinghersob.

Helovedthathecoulddothattoher.Lovedthathecouldgiveherthiskindofpleasure.

Lovedthathecouldmakeherholdontohimsotightly.Noneofthoseotherwomenhe’dhad
overalltheyearshadneverheldhimlikethat,asiftheyneverwantedtolethimgo.

Youneverwantherto.
Thethoughtsatinhismind,brightlikeastar.No,hedidn’t.Never.
Hergazecametohis,blackinherflushedface,andhefeltlikehesawtheanswertoa

questionhehadn’tknownhewantedtoask.Itwasrawanddesperateanditreachedinside
himandclosedaroundhisheartlikeahand.Notsqueezinghardenoughtocausepain,but
holdingonallthesame.Firmlyandyetwithtenderness,keepingitsafe.

Heknewheshouldlookaway,becausethatfeelingcuthimopeninawayhewasn’t

expecting.Yethecouldn’t.Sheheldhimasfastandastightashewasholdingher.

Sohekepthisgazeonhersashetouchedhistonguedelicatelytoherclit,teasingheruntil

hesawthepleasurelightuphersharp,lovelyface,herhipsarchinghelplessly,hercriesof
releaseechoingaroundhim.

Somethingachedinhischest,thefeelingofahandwrappedaroundhisheartlingering,

andhehadtolookawayfromher,thesightofhersuddenlytoomuchforhim.

You’vemadeahugemistake,youknowthat,right?
No.Hewasdonewiththinkingrightnow.Itneverledanywheregood.
AsMiashookinhisarms,hemovedawayslightly,reachingovertothenightstanddrawer

andtuggingitopen.Hetookoutoneofthemanycondomshekeptthere,rippedopenthe
packet,androlledthelatexdownonhimself.

Thenhelookedatthewomanstretchedoutunderhim.Hereyesweresodark,

fathomless,andwhenhemethergaze,sheliftedherarmstohim.Asifshewantedtohold
himasbadlyashewantedtoholdher.

Bigmistake.Notforher.Foryou.
Heblinked,hischestsuddenlypainfullytight.Withoutreallythinkingaboutwhathewas

doing,hegrippedherhipsandturnedheroversoshewasfacedownonthepillows.

“Xavier?”Shebegantotwistherheadaround,butheputahandtothebackofherneck,

easingherbackdowngently.

“Staythere,”hemurmured.“Juststaylikethat.
Whatthefuckareyoudoing?
Nothing.He’dsimplydecidedhe’dtakeherfrombehind,nobiggie.Nothingtodowiththe

wayshewaslookingathimorhowitwouldfeeltohaveherarmswindaroundhimandhold
himtightlythewayshe’ddoneeverynightforthepastweek.

Nothingtodowiththeweird,growingpressureinhischestthathecouldn’tfigureoutand

didn’tknowwhattodowith.

Heslippedahandbeneathher,liftingherhips,partingthesoft,wetfoldsofherpussy

withgentlefingers.Sheshuddered,herhandsfistingthepillows,jerkinginhisgrip.

Hedidn’tlookather,keepinghisgazedownbetweenherthighsasheguidedhiscockinto

her,pressinginlightlyatfirst,thenmorefirmly,unabletostophisbreathfromcatchingas
herpussygrippedhiscocktight.

“Xavier.”Hisnamewasasoft,hoarsewhisper.“Oh,God...”
Flexinghiships,hedrovehimselfdeepintoallthatslick,wetheat,thesoundofher

gaspingbreathlikethestrokeofherhanddownhisspine.Andhehadtopausetherea

second,justtogethimselfthefucktogetherandnotembarrasshimselflikeateenageboy
withhisfirstVictoria’sSecretcatalogue.

Shewaslyingonherfront,herhairlikeachurningblackwaterfallcascadingdownher

spine,deepanddarkagainstherpaleskin.She’dturnedherheadtotheside,sohecouldsee
herfullredmouthandthehecticcolorinhercheeks.Christ,shewassobeautiful.

Shearched,herhipsshifting,encouraginghimtomove,andhedid,unabletohelpit.

Pullingoutandslidingin,theslicksqueezeofherbodyaroundhiscockthemostintensely
eroticthinghe’deverfeltinhislife.

Hespreadhishandsoutonherskin,onesplayingonherstomach,keepingherlifted,the

otheronherhiptomakesureshewassteady.Shefeltsowarm.

“God....”Shemovedagain,restlessly.“Ineed...more.”
Ofcourseshedid.Buthewasinnohurry,hecouldkeepdoingthisallnight.Infact,that’s

exactlywhatheplannedondoing.Slowandleisurely,drawingitout,makingherscreamand
beg.Makinghercallhisnameoverandoveragain.

Heshiftedhishandonherstomach,easinghisfingersdownsohecouldplaywithherclit,

strokeherintimewithhisthrusts,deepeningherpleasure.Shemoanedashedidsoand
movedherarm,reachingbehindher,reachingforsomething.

ForasecondXavierstopped,burieddeepinsideher,watchingasherhandmovedinthe

air,herfingersoutstretched,reachingforhim.Shewasn’tevenlooking,wasn’tturningher
head.Asifshefullyexpectedhimtotakeherhand.

Shedoesn’tknowwhatyouare.Shedoesn’tknowthatyou’llonlyhurtherintheend,

becausethat’swhatyoualwaysdo.Nomatterhowcarefulyouare,nomatterhowhardyou
try,youalwaysbreaktheonesyoucareabout.

Ashudderwentthroughhim.
“Xavier,”shesaid,herfingersreachingforhim.“Please.”
Buthedidn’ttakeherhand.Hecouldfeelsomethingcoldinsidehim,snakingthroughhis

veins,coilingtightaspythonaroundatreebranch,anicyself-protectivefeeling.Asiftaking
herhandwouldbeamistake,wouldpromiseherthingshewouldneverbeabletogiveher.
Becausehecouldgivehereverythingshewanted,butifshewantedmore...

“Please.”shewhispered.“I...needyou.”
Hecouldn’tleaveherreachingfornothing.Hecouldn’tleaveherwithoutsomethingto

holdonto,becauseallherlifeshe’dbeenreachingoutandhadfoundnothingbutair.

Notthistime.
He’daskedhertomakeherhomewithhimandshe’dsaidyes,soheputouthishandto

her,feltherfingerstwinewithhis,holdingontight.Andhegrippedherinreturn,tryingto
driveawaythesuddenacheinhischestwithheatofherbody,withthetideofpleasurethat
draggedathim,gettingdeeperandmoreintensewitheverythrust.Hestrokedherclitashe
didso,pilingonthepleasure,makinghershudderandcryout,overandoveragain,untilshe
wasturningherfaceintothepillow,hercriesmuffled.

Butshedidn’tletgo,holdingontohimashethrustharder,deeper,thesoundofhisflesh

hittinghersloudintheroom,asifhecouldgetridofthefeelinginhisheart,thetight,hot
feelingthatmadehimwanttoletherhandgoandgetoutanywayhecould.

Heclosedhiseyesinstead,thewaveofpleasurerisingupinsidehimthendescending,

heavyasafallingbuilding,flatteninghimcompletely.Heonlyjustmanagedtonotslump
overonher,listingtothesideandputtingoutahandtothepillowbesideherheadtobrace

himself,hischestheaving,hisheadringing.

Shedidn’tmove,herfaceturnedtothesideawayfromhim.
Heshifted,pullingoutofherthencollapsingbesideher,reachingforherandtuggingher

close.Shesighed,turningherheadintohischest,herhairfallinginsilkywavesagainsthis
skin.

“Thatwasamazing,”shemurmured,herbreathghostingwarmlyoverhim.
Theacheinhischestdeepenedfornogoodreason.“Yeah,youcouldsaythat.Youokay?”
“OhmyGod,yes.”Sheliftedherhead,hereyesevenbrighterthannormal,lookingathim

asifhewassomekindofhero.“You’reamazingtoo,youknowthat?”

No,you’renot.
Xavierpushedalockofhairbehindonesmallear.Thebrightexpressiononherfacewas

hardtolookat,andhedidn’tknowwhatshesaw,butheknewitwasalie,whateveritwas.
“No,sweetthing.I’mnot.”

Herforeheadcreased.“Youare.Whywouldyousayyou’renot?”
Allthebreathwentoutofhim.Christ,whyhadhesaidthat?Becausehereallydidn’t

wanttotalktoheraboutthis.Shemusthavepickeduponhisreluctance,becausehergaze
sharpenedallofasudden.“Whatisit?”

“It’snothing.”
Herhandspressedonhischestabruptly,pushinghimontohisback.“No,it’snotnothing.

Yougotallweirdonmewhenyouthoughtyouhurtmeafewdaysago.Andyousaiditwas
nothingthentoo.Butobviously,it’ssomething.”

Tellher.Sheneedstoknowwhatkindofmanshe’sdealingwith.
Xaviermadehimselflookintohernight-darkeyes.“YouknowmyMomdied?Well,she

killedherself.Sleepingpillsandvodka.”

“Oh,Xavier...”
Aterriblesympathyhadenteredherexpression,andhehadtoglanceawayfromit.“Iwas

sixteen.Acoupleofdaysbeforeithappened,she’dorganizedthismassiveChristmasparty
outatourplaceintheHamptonsandhadinvitedallthebigsocietyfamilies.ShehatedNew
York,neverfeltathomehere,butshetriedformyDad’ssakeandthispartywassupposedto
bepartofit.”

HeslidhishandsoverMia’sass,needingtotouchher,tofithermorecloselyagainsthim

allofasudden.Buthestillcouldn’tlookather.“Iwasahell-raiser.Iwasn’tverygoodat
behavingorobeyingrules,andthatnightIwassupposedtobegood.Itried.ButDSCorphad
onlyjustreleasedanewgunandthereweresomeguysmyageatthepartywhowantedtotry
itout,andI...didn’tthink.”

Itshouldn’tbehardtosay,notwhenithadhappenedsolongago,andyetitwas.“Igotthe

gunoutofthesafeandsetupashootingrangewithbottlesinthegarden.Ididn’tthinkit
wouldbeaproblem.Buttherewasagirl,thedaughterofsomemajorbusinesscontactof
Dad’s,andshegothitintheleg.Itwasabigdeal,andtheambulancewascalled,andMom’s
partywasruined.”Heclosedhiseyes,becauseevennow,evenaftersomanyyears,the
memoryhurt.“Momwentcompletelyapeshitonme.Toldmehowimportantthiswastoher
andthatI’druinedit.AndthenshewentonabouthowIneverthinkthingsthroughandI
alwaysendupdoingtheonethingthathurtsherthemost.ThatifIlovedher,Iwouldn’tdo
thethingsIdid.”

Miawasquiet,herwarmhandsrestingonhischestliketwinsunbeams.

“ItoldherIwassorry,thatItried,andthatthenexttimeIwouldtryharder.Butthere

wasnonexttime.”Heturnedhishead,madehimselflookather.“Shekilledherselfacouple
ofdayslater.”

ThatterriblesympathywasinMia’seyesanditmadehimfeelworse,buthedidn’tglance

away.Becauseitwasakindofpunishmenttobearit.“It’snotyourfault,”shesaidaftera
moment.“Youknowthat,don’tyou?”

Ofcoursehedid.“Yeah.Imean,Ididn’tmakehertakethosepillsorforcethevodkaon

her.But...”Hestopped.

“Butwhat?”
“IfI’dbeenmorecareful.IfIhadn’tgottenoutthatgun.IfI’djustfuckingthoughtabout

whatIwasdoingabitmore,thenmaybe...”Hestoppedagain,hatingthelostnoteinhis
voice.“Whatever,I’mnot‘amazing,’Mia.I’mjustaguywhofucksupalot,andsometimes
theconsequencesofthatareprettybad.”

Shefrownedathim,silentforamoment.“Soallthatyou’vedoneforme.Givingmeahat,

aknife.Givingmefoodandshelter.Awarmbedandabath.Andallofthatfornothing.That’s
notamazing?”

Hischestached.“Thosearejust—”
“Thosearejustwhat?Notabigdeal?Nothingimportant?”Thestarsinhereyesglittered.

“Well,fuckyou,becauseactually,they’reaprettybigdealtome.”

“Ididn’tmeanthat.”
“Thenwhatdidyoumean?”
“Ibreakthings,Mia.Iscrewthingsup.I’mcareless,Idon’tthink,Ihurt—”
“DoIlookhurttoyou,Xavier?DoIlookbroken?”Herhandswerealmostpushinghim,

theexpressiononherfacefierce.“No.BecauseI’mnot.Ihavefoodandshelterandclothing.
Becauseofyou.Becauseyou’reamazing.Sodon’ttrytotellmeyou’renot.”

Hewantedtodenyit,wantedtotellhershewaswrong,buthowcouldhe?Whensheput

itlikethat?“Idon’tknowifIdeservethat,”hesaidinstead.“Imean,I’vebeentryinghardnot
toscrewup,but—”

“No,don’tsaythat.”Shegavehimasharp,piercinglook.“IfeltforalongtimethatI

deservedwhatIgot,becauseGrankepttellingmethatMomleftbecauseofme.Thenyou
toldmethatwhatIdeservedwassomethingmore.AndIbelievedyou.”Shetookabreath.
“Butifyoudon’tbelieveyoudeserveanything,thenhowcanIbelievethatIdo?”

Ashockwentthroughhim.“That’snotwhatImeant.”
“Maybenot.Butthesearen’tsmallthingstome.They’remylife.You’regivingmeahome,

Xavier.You’regivingmeeverythingIeverwanted.AndIdon’tcarewhatyouthink,Ithink
that’samazingrightthere.”

Jesus.Hehadn’ttrulythoughtofhowmuchthiswouldmeantoher.
No,butthenyouneverdo.
Hisjawwenttight.“Oneday,I’llscrewup,Mia.I’llhurtyou.Atsomepoint,atsometime,

I’llhurtyou.”

Thelookonherfacesoftened.“I’vesurvivedthestreetsofNewYork.IthinkIcansurvive

onejackassbillionaire.”

Shedidn’tunderstand,thatwasclear.Shethoughtshesawsomethinginhim,butit

wasn’tthere.Heknewitwasn’t.Allthosethingshe’ddoneforher,he’ddonebecausehe’d
beencurious.Becausehe’dwantedtoplaywithher,thatwasall.Notbecausehewassome

kindofgreatguy.Andasforthe“amazing”part,thatwasjustthesextalking.Peoplesaidall
kindsofshitaftersexlikethat.

Hedidn’twanttokeeparguingwithherthough,soheletitlie,easinghergentlyaway

fromhim.“Holdthatthought.Thisjackassbillionairehastogodealwiththecondom.”

Gettingoutofbed,heheadedstraighttothebathroomwherehetossedthecondominthe

wastebasketthenstoodatthevanity,grippingthesidesofthebasin,somethingcoldsittingin
thepitofhisstomach.

Hedidn’tknowwhatthehellwasgoingonwithhim.
Yeah,youdo.Stopdenyingit.
Xavierletoutalongbreath,thesoundhissinginthesilenceofthebathroom.
Ofcourseheknewwhatwaswrong.ItwasMia.Itwasher,softandwarminhisbed.Her,

touchinghim,givinghimpleasureasifhedeservedit.Her,reachingforhim,tellinghimshe
neededhim,thathewasamazing.

Itwasher,reachingintohischestandwrappingherfingersaroundhisheart.
Slowly,Xavierliftedhisheadandstaredathisreflectioninthemirror.
Hewantedtokeepher.Hewantedtokeepherforever.Hewantedtoloveher.
Buthecouldn’t,becausehedidn’tknowhow.Didn’thowtolovesomeonewithouthurting

them,withoutbreakingthem.Hadn’thismothertoldhimthatoverandoveragain?

Thesearen’tsmallthingstome.They’remylife.You’regivingmeahome,Xavier.You’re

givingmeeverythingIeverwanted...

Thismeantsoverymuchtoher.Butnomatterwhatshesaid,he’dscrewitup.Becausehe

wascareless,becausehedidn’tthink.Becausehewasjustafucking“redneckinasuit.”

Guyslikehimcouldn’tbetrustedwithwomenlikeher.Oh,she’dsaidshewasstrong,and

ofcourseshewas.Butthiswasn’taboutsurvivingphysically.Thiswasaboutemotionalhurt,
andheknew—Christhejustfuckingknew—howdeepthosescarscouldgo.

Hedidn’twantthatkindofpainforher.Whichmeanthatalltheseideashehadoftaking

herwithhimtoWyoming,ofhavinghermakeherhomewithhim,theyweremerelywishful
thinking.

Hecouldn’ttakeherwithhim.Hecouldn’triskit.
Before,ithadn’tmatteredtohim,becauseafterthismother’sdeath,he’dmadeverysure

nottocareaboutanythingoranyone.ButthatwasbeforeMiahadcomeintohislife.Before
she’dstartedtomatter.Andshedidmatter.Shematteredsoverymuch.

Thenyouknowwhattodo,don’tyou?
Icemovedthroughhim,freezingeverythingexceptforwhatfeltlikeaknifeskewering

throughthecenterofhischest,blazingwithheat,withpain.

Yeah,heknew.ThebesthomeforMiawasn’twithhiminWyoming.ItwashereinNew

York.Awayfromhim.Shehadherownlifetolive,herowngoalstoachieve.Ahomeofher
ownandamanwho’dbeabletoloveherproperly,nottheclumsycarelesslovethatwasall
hewascapableof.

Ifhereallywantedtokeephersafe,hewasgoingtohavetolethergo.
Thepaininhischestblazedalittlebrighter,butheignoredit.Pushinghimselfawayfrom

thevanity,heleftthebathroomandreturnedtothebedroom,pausingamomentinthe
doorway.

Miawaslyingonherfront,herheadpillowedonherarms.Shemusthaveheardhim,

becausesheturnedherheadalittletoseehim.Shesmiled,andtheknifeinhischesttwisted

hard.

Hewouldkeephispromisestoher,thatmuchhe’dmakesureof.
Butthat’sallhecouldgiveher.

Chapter11

Miawokewithanoddfeelinginthepitofherstomachandittookaminuteortwooflying
therewithhereyesshuttofigureoutwhatitwas.Shewaswarm,butthenwakingupin
Xavier’sapartmentalwaysmeantshewaswarm,soitwasn’tjustthat.Itwasaboutmore
thanjustthewarmth.Therewasalsoajumpy,restlesskindofsensationthatwentalongwith
it,thatmadeherwanttothrowbackthecoversandgetupandjustgodo...something.

Idiot.You’rehappy.
Shetookaquickbreath,cautiouslyexaminingthefeeling.Really?Wasthatwhatitwas?

Happiness?Ithadbeensuchalongtimesinceshe’dfeltanythinglikeit,soshecouldn’tbe
sure.Infact,shecouldn’trememberthelasttimeshe’dfeltitatall.Sure,therehadbeen
fleetingmoments:thattimeinschoolwhenherteacherhadtoldhershe’ddoneagoodjob
withadrawing;thatsummerafternoonwhenhergrandmotherwastalkingonthephone,
leavingheraloneforonce,andshe’dcurledupinthatpatchofsunonherbedroomfloor;
findingthespotbehindtheDumpsterinthealley;discoveringtheovercoatintheclothing
binattheshelter.

Justlittlemoments.Certainlynothingthathadlasted,becausenothingeverdid.
Butthisfeeling,thismoment,wasdifferent.Becauseitwasn’trelatedtomerelybeing

warmandsafeandjustsurviving.Itwasaboutsomethingmore.Itwasaboutgoingto
Wyoming,aboutbeingsomewherenew.Aboutfinallyfindingthehomeshe’dalways
dreamedof.

ItwasaboutbeingtherewithXavier.
Happy.God,shewashappy.
Itwasn’tafeelingtobetrustedandpartofherwaswaryofit,remindingherthatit

couldn’tlastandsheshouldn’tbelieveit.Butshedecidedshewasn’tgoingtolistentothat
partofherself.Thatwasthepartwhobelievedeveryliehergrandmotherhadtoldherabout
herself,soscrewit.

Shewantedtolistentothepartofherselfshe’ddiscoveredwithXavier,andthatparttold

hertoacceptthefeelingforwhatitwas,embraceiteven.Becauseshedeservedit.

Shegrinnedtoherselfandstretched,enjoyingthesensationofherbareskinagainstthe

cottonsheets.Thensheopenedhereyesandrolledover,puttingherhandoutfortheman
sheknewjusthadtobelyingbesideher.

Excepthewasn’t.
Miafrowned.He’dkeptheruplatethenightbefore,reachingforheragainandagain,asif

hecouldn’tgetenoughofher,andshe’dlethim.Ithadbeenexciting.Ithadmadeherfeel
sensualandpowerful,andshe’dbeenunabletogetenoughofitherself.

Whichmadeitirritatingthathewasn’therenow.
Sittingup,shescannedthebedroom,butthatwasemptytoo.
Maybehewasmakingbreakfastorsomething.Hopefullyhewas,sinceshewasstartingto

getalittlehungry.

Slippingoutofbed,Miagrabbedhisshirtthatshe’dbeenwearingthenightbeforeand

wrappeditaroundher.Thecottonwasheavy,thethick,luxuriousscentofhisaftershave
makinghershiverindeliciousanticipation.

Damn,wherehadhegone?She’dbeenhopingforanotherhourorsoinbed.
Puzzled,Miawandereddownthehallwayandoutintothelivingarea,buthewasn’tthere

either.Therewerenosoundscomingfromthekitchen,butshehalfturnedtogocheckthere
anyway,justincase,whenshecaughtsightofsomethingsittingonthecoffeetable.

Shefrowned,goingovertoseewhatitwas.
Apileofclothing.Familiarclothing.Jeans,panties,T-shirt,button-downshirt,overcoat.

Allneatlyfoldedandstackedinapile.Ontopofthepilewasabluebeanieandaknife.

Jesus.Thesewereherclothes.
Coldsweptoverher,washingawaythehappyfeelingthathadbeenglowingwarmlyinher

chest.

Whywereherclothessittingthere?
Besidethepilewasapieceofpaper,neatlyfolded,hernamewrittenacrossthefront.
Abone-deepforebodingmadehermouthgodryandallhermusclestenseup.
Shedidn’twanttopickupthepieceofpaper.Shedidn’twanttoreadwhatwasinside,

becauseshehadahorriblefeelingshealreadyknewwhatitwasgoingtosay.

See?Toldyouthatyoucouldn’ttrustit.Happinessneverlasts...
No,thatwasridiculous.Shewasbeingridiculous.Xavierhadtoldherhe’dnevernotwant

heraround,thatshehadahomewithhim,andheknewhowimportantthatwastoher.He
wouldn’tjustsendherawayorwhateverthehellherstupidbrainwastellingher.Shetrusted
him.

Miasnatchedupthepieceofpaper,unfoldingitwithshakingfingers.Itwasnothing.It

wasprobablyanotetellingherthathewasoutgettingmorefoodandthathe’dbebacksoon,
andthenthey’dpreparefortheirtriptoWyoming.That’sall.

Butitwasn’t.
Mia,I’vechangedmymind.Idon’tthinkyourhomeiswithmeafterall.Youhaveyour

ownlifetolive,yourowngoalstoachieve,andIcan’tmakeyouapartofmine.

Hereareyourclothesback.Youcanwearthemorthrowtheminthetrash,it’suptoyou.

ThisapartmentisDad’s,buteverythinginitisnowyoursandI’veorganizedforyoutostay
hereaslongasyoulike.Thosedocumentsyouwantedareready—acourierwillcomeby
withthemlatertoday—andI’vealsoorganizedforsomeonetohelpyoufindaplaceofyour
own.Theyshouldbeintouchsoon.Don’tworryaboutthemoney,that’salltakencareof.

IhadanearlyflighttoWyoming,soI’msorryIcouldn’tstaytosaygood-bye.GuessI’m

notsoamazingafterall.

Allthebest—
Miadidn’tbotherreadingthelastpartofthesentence.Shedroppedthepaperlikeithad

burnedherandtookastepbackfromthecoffeetable,herlegssuddenlyunsteady.

Theroomswam,hervisionblurring.
Sheblinkedhard,tryingtoclearitbecauseitwasannoying,butforsomereason

everythingstayedblurrylikeanout-of-focusphoto.

Herthroatwashurtingandthewarmglowingsensationinherstomachwasebbingaway,

leavingbehindahollowemptinessthathurt,thatmadehereyessore.

Okay,sohe’dchangedhismind.Hedidn’twantherafterall.Sure,thatwasabummer,but

itwasn’ttheendoftheworld,right?Itwasn’tlikeshecouldn’tgettoWyomingherselfifshe

reallywantedtoandhey,hehadn’tchuckedheroutonthestreetwithnothing.Shecould
stayhereaslongasshewantedandallthosepersonaldocumentswereontheway.Looked
likeshewasgoingtobeabletofindherownhometoo,whichhadbeenherdreamallalong.

Sowhywasshehurting?Whydiditfeellikeshe’djustbeenkickedinthechest?
Becauseyourhomeiswithhimandyouknowit.
Somethingwasslidingalongthesideofhernoseandrollingoverhercheek,andwhenshe

putherhanduptotouchit,herfingerscameawaywet.

Fuck.Shewascrying.
Fiercely,Miawipedhereyes,butthemoreshewiped,themoretearsfell.Painhad

expandedbehindherbreastbone,asifthekicktothechesthadshatteredherribsandnow
thebrokenshardswerediggingintoher,cuttingher.

Forsolongallshe’dwantedwasahome,somethingofherown,somewhereshewassafe,

thatnoonecouldtakeawayfromher.Andshe’dalwaysthoughthomewouldbean
apartment.Orevenahouse.

Sheneverthoughthomecouldbeaperson.
Miatookastepback,thecouchpressingupagainstthebacksofherlegs,andshefound

herselfsittingsuddenlyinit,herhandscoveringherface,tearsleakingthroughherfingers,
herchestfeelinglikeitwasonfire.

Thesoundsofsomeonesobbingquietlyechoedthroughtheroom.
Her.
Sheshuthereyes,heavinginoneraggedbreathafteranother,tryingtocalmthehell

downandgetherselfbacktogether.Butitdidn’twork.Shefeltlikeshe’dbeengiven
somethingshe’dneverknownshewanteduntilithadbeentakenawayfromher.

Him.Shewantedhim.Notthedocuments,nottheclothes,notthewarmbedorthefood.

Orevenanapartmentofherown.Rightinthatmomentshewouldhavegiventhemallup
forever,ifonlyshecouldhavehadhim.

Becausehewasherhome.Andnowhewasgone.
Why?Whathadshedone?Whyhadn’thestayedtoexplainoreventosaygood-bye?
Prettymuchthestoryofyourlife,huh?Faceit.Noonewantsyou.Nooneeverdid.
Beneaththepain,araw,jaggedangerlurked.Angeratallthepeoplewho’dhurther,

who’dlefther,whohadn’tcaredaboutherbeingaloneonthestreetsatthirteen.

Shit,shedidn’tneedthem.Shedidn’tneedanyone.Shewasbetteroffbyherself,because

shewastheonepersoninthewholefuckingworldshecouldcounton.

Screwthefuckingdocuments.Screwthisentirefuckingapartmentandeverythinginit.

Shedidn’twantitnow.Xavierandallhisthingsandwhicheverflunkyhe’dgottentohelp
her,couldgotohell.

Miascrubbedthetearsfromherfaceandstoodup,ignoringthepaininherheart.
Itwasgoingtotakeherawhile,butifshetriedreallyhard,shecouldputthisbehindher,

couldforgetallaboutit.Forgetabouthimandwhathe’ddoneforher.Forgetaboutthe
warmthofhistouchandthesafetyofhisarms.Forgetabouttheblueofhiseyesandthesun
inhissmile.Forgetabouttrust.

Forgetaboutlove?
Shit,ifthat’swhatthisfeelingwasthen,yes,forgetaboutlove.Sheneededtoforgetabout

thatmostofall.

Miareachedoutandgrabbedtheclothessittingonthetable,carefullytakingofftheblue

beanieandtheknifeandlayingthemtotheside.ThenshestrippedoffXavier’sshirtand
dressedinherownclothes.Theyfeltweirdnow,allstiffandwrong,buthey,atleastthey
weredryandclean.

Returningtothebedroom,shepulledoutherbackpackwithallherthingscarefullystored

init,andslungitoverhershoulders.

Thenshelefttheapartmentwithoutlookingback.
Notonce.

***

Wyomingwasjustasherememberedit.Wide-openblueskiesandduskyhills,fields
stretchingoutoneithersideofthelong,lowranchhousethatcrouchedbeneathBlackTop
Mountain.

Hismother’sfamilyhadowneditonce,beforehismotherhadfalleninloveandmarried

CesaredeSantis.Beforeshe’dbeentakenawayfromtheplacewhereshe’dfeltathomeand
madetoliveinNewYork,aplaceshe’dhatedandhadnevercometotermswith.

Butshe’dstayedforherhusband’ssakeandforthesakeofherchildren.
Amistakeshe’dnevercomebackfrom.
Xavierstoodinfrontofthehugemantlepositionedoverthecavernousfireplace,staring

atthephotoslinedupalongit.Hismaternalgrandparents,nowlongdead.Hisbrothersand
sister.Hisfather.Hismother.

Therewasonephotoinparticular,ofhismotheronhorsebackwiththesuninherhair

andamile-widesmileonherface.She’dlookedsohappybackthen,backbeforeshehadto
cometoNewYorkandchangedherwholewayoflifeforthemansheloved.

BackbeforeXavier’dbeenbornandmadeeverythingworse.
Helookedawayfromthephotoandturnedaround,staringaroundthemassivespace.
He’dspenttwodayslookingovertheplaceandtalkingwiththemanager,goingoverthe

financialswithafine-toothedcombandexaminingthelivestock.Theranchasawholewasin
direneedofattention,butitwasn’tthelostcausehisfatherorhisbrothersapparently
seemedtothinkitwas.Allitneededwasahealthyinjectionofcashandsomeclosemanaging
togetthingsonthestraightandnarrow,nothingthatsixmonthsofhardworkwouldn’thelp.

Whichmeantheshouldbefeelingecstaticthathewasfinallyhereandthathewasfinally

doingsomethingworthwhile.Finallymakinghismotherproudinsteadofcausingherpain.

Except...hedidn’tfeelecstatic.Hefeltlikehehadagiantholeinhischestwhere

someonehadrippedouthisheart.

Eventwodaysofbusyinghimselfeveryhourofthedaysohedidn’thavetimetothink

hadn’thelped.Thepainwasstillthereanditwasstillraw.

Nomatterhowmanytimeshe’dtoldhimselfitwasforthebest,leavingMiahadfeltlike

leavingapartofhimselfbehind.

Hestaredatthemassivebearskinruginfrontofthefire,andallhecouldthinkofwas

howshewouldhavelovedthis.Howshewouldhavelovedcurlinguponthatruginfrontof
thefire,andhowhewouldhavelovedcurlinguptherewithher.Howhewouldhaveloved
teachingherhowtoridethentakingheroutwithhimoverthehills,showingherallthe
favoritehauntshe’dhadwhenhe’dbeenaboyspendinghissummershere.

Itwaswinternow,sotherewasn’talotofridingtobehad,buthestillwouldhaveloved

showingheraround.Andthentakinghertobedatnightandholdingherwhilethesnowfell
andthecoldbitdeep...

No,hecouldn’tbethinkingaboutthat.Sure,hewouldhavelovedtohaveherhere,but

leavingherinNewYorkwasthebestthinghecouldhavedone.Tostartwith,shewassafe
there,andhe’dmadesureshehadeverythingsheneeded.Herdocumentswouldhavearrived
bynow,andthecontacthe’dhiredwouldhavegottenintouchwithhertostarttheprocessof
lookingforanapartment.

Itwasagoodthing.Averygoodthing.
Andleavingwithoutsayinggood-bye?Wasthatagoodthing?
Hischesthurtlikeabastardandhefeltcold—eventheheatfromthefireinfrontofhim

didn’twarmhim.

Okay,soleavinglikethathadn’tbeenideal,buthe’dhadto.Becauseheknewthatifshe’d

triedtoconvincehimtotakeherwithhim,hewouldhave.Allhisresolutionswouldhave
crumbled,andhewould’vebundledherintothecompanyjetandneverletheroutofhis
sightagain.

Andthatcouldn’thappen.Shehadtostaywhereshewas,besafeinNewYork.
Christ,whywashethinkingaboutthisanyway?Hewasfinallyhere,atBlueSkies,where

he’dlongedtobeforyears.Heshouldbethinkingabouthisplansfortheplace,notyearning
forawomanheshouldn’thave.

Xavierturnedbacktothephotosonthemantel,staringatthepictureofhismother.At

thesmileonherface.Thekindofsmilehe’dneverseenonherinreallife,becauseinNew
Yorkshe’dneversmiled.Shecertainlyhadneversmiledathimlikethat.Andnowonder.
He’dbeenatearaway,alwaysgettingintotrouble,alwayscausinghergrief.Alwaysmaking
herlifesomuchmoredifficult.

Whichwaswhyhewashere,tryingtomakeitbetter.
Thethoughtshouldhavebeenreassuringbutsomehowwasn’t,andhefoundhimself

movingrestlesslyawayfromthefire,backtothelowcoffeetablethathadbeencarvedfroma
gianttreetrunk.Onitwasatumblerofvodka,whichhepickedupandknockedback.The
alcoholburnedhisthroat,burnedallthewaydownhisesophagus,andsatburninginhisgut.
Makinghimfeelevenworse.

Hestaredblindlyattheflames,histhoughtscirclingrelentlesslybacktoMiaagain.Was

sheokay?Hadshegottenthosedocuments?Hadshemanagedtofindherselfanapartment?
Perhapsheshouldcallhiscontact,justtobesure.

He’dbeentryingtoresistthetemptation,becausehewassupposedtobeconcentrating

hiseffortsontheranch,butclearlyhewasn’tgoingtobeabletoreallysettleinuntilheknew
everythingwasokaywithMia.

Sohedugintohisbackpocketandpulledouthisphone,punchinginthenumberofthe

contactwhomhe’dputinchargeofhelpingMia.Hetookforevertoanswerandwhenhedid,
itfeltlikesomeonehadnotonlyrippedXavier’sheartoutofhischest,butwasstompingon
thepiecesinfrontofhim.Becausethecontactdidn’tknowwhereMiahadgone.She’d
vanishedfromXavier’sapartmentthedayXavierhadleftandnoonehadseenhersince.

Hishandsshookasheendedthecall,blindpaniccurlingthroughhisveins.
Whyhadshegone?He’dgivenhereverythingshe’dneeded.Everything.Andstillshe’d

left.Why?Whatthefuckhadhedone?

Whatifitwasyoushewanted?
SomethingclosedaroundtheremainsofXavier’sheartandsqueezedhard,andhe

suddenlycouldn’tcatchhisbreath.Hefoundhimselflookingaroundattheroomagain,
lookingattheplacethathewassupposedtofix,theranchhe’dspentyearsthinkingabout.
Anditwaslikeaveilhaddroppedfromhiseyes.

Herehewas,desperatelytryingtofixaplacethatwasn’teventerriblybroken.Andallfora

womanwho’dbeendeadavery,verylongtime.Awomanwhohadn’tappreciatedhimwhen
shewasalive.Who’dconstantlytoldhimoverandoveragainwhatadisappointmenthewas
toher.

Whatthehellwashedoinghere?Whatthefuckwashehopingtoachieve?
BackinNewYorktherewasawomanwhowasalive.Awomanwho’dtoldhimhewas

amazing.Awomanwho’dtouchedhimlikehewasprecious,who’dmadehimfeelgoodabout
himselfinawaynooneelseeverhad.Awomanwhoneededhimlikeheneededher.

Awomanheloved.
Thefistaroundhisheartsqueezedtighter.Sure,thisplacewasimportanttohim,but

fundamentally,itdidn’tmatter.Nothingmattered.NothingbutMia.

Whomhe’dleftaloneinhisapartmentthinkinghewasdoingtherightthing,thinkinghe

wasprotectingher.Butofcoursehewasn’t.Whathewasdoingwasprotectinghimself.
Becausehewasafraid.Afraidoftheemotionthatconsumedhim,theterribleneedthat
clawedathim.Thepowerofit,thesheervastnessofit.Thefeelingwentbeyondpityor
sympathyorlust.Itwentdeeperthanmerepossessiveness.Itwassomehowallofthose
thingsandyetnoneofthem.

Itwasaterrible,awful,wonderfulfeelinganditscaredhimtodeath.
Nowonderbeingherehadn’tworked.Nowonderhestillfeltasshittyashehadwhenhe’d

firstarrived.Hewastryingtofixthewrongthing.Hewastryingtofixthepast,whenwhathe
shouldhavebeendoingwascreatingafuture.

AfuturewithMia.
Afutureyou’vejustfuckedup.Again.
Hismouthwentdry,hishandclosingtightlyaroundhisphone.
No.Notagain.Thatwasanexcusehe’dusedtokeephimselfsafe,tokeepeveryoneata

distance,andiftherewasonethinghehadtostopdoing,itwasthat.

Nomoresafety,nomoredistance.Miawasgoneandhehadtofindher.Givehertheone

thingshetrulyneededinherlife,theonethingshedeservedmostofall:love.

Andmaybe,justmaybe,ingivingherhisworthless,cowardlyheart,he’dfinallyfix

himselftoo.

Xavier’shandshookashepunchedinanothernumber.“Kelly?Getmychopperready.I

needtogobacktoNewYorkASAP.”

***

Miapressedherselfagainstthehotpipeatherback,huddlingdownandmakingsurethe
cardboardoverherheadwasinplace.Itwassnowingagainandshewasfreezing,anditdidn’t
matterthatshe’dhadtwodaysofbeingbackonthestreetsagain,itwasstillhardtoadjust.
She’dgottenusedtobeingwarm,tobeingcleanandnothungry.Usedtobeingsafe.Usedto

havingsomeonetotalkto,totouch.Toholdher.UsedtohavingXavier.

Nowshehadnoneofthosethingsandit...hurt.
Butshe’dtriednottoletitgettoher.She’dpushedawaythepainandgottenonwiththe

businessofsurvivalinstead.

She’dbeentotheshelterandpickedupsomegloves.Theyweretoobiganddidn’tretain

heatverywell,buttheywerebetterthannothing.Tonyhadaskedherwhereshe’dbeen,and
she’dalmostansweredhim,beforerememberingwhyshehadtobewary.Whyitwas
importanttotellnooneanything.Soshe’djustshruggedandmovedon.

LuckilyherpositionbehindtheDumpsterhadn’tbeentakenbyanyoneelse,whichwasa

blessing.Especiallythefirstnightwhenthetemperatureshadplungedandonlythathotpipe
hadkeptherfromfreezingtodeath.

Shemightfreezetonight,though,especiallyifitkeptgettinganycolder.
Notthatshewantedtodie.Sure,shemightnothaveXavierbutthatdidn’tmeanshe’d

givenup.Onanything.Shestillwantedallthesamethingsshe’dwantedbeforeshe’dwalked
outofhisapartment.Maybetheideaof‘home’didn’tquitemeanasmuchtohernowasit
hadwhenshewaswithhim,butshewanteditallthesame.Andshewouldgetit.Eventually.
Lifehadnoshortcutsafterall.

Thenightwasstartingtoclosein,thetemperaturebeginningitsplunge.
Ascatterofsnowhadcreptunderthecardboardandwasnowsittingicilyagainsttheback

ofherneck,meltingdownherspine.Shit.Shewasgoingtogetwetand,withoutanywayof
gettingdry,she’dbescrewed.Itmightmeangoingbacktothesheltertonight,whichwould
beabummer.She’dgottenusedtosleepingbyherself.

Orwithonlyoneotherperson.
Aweightdescendedonherchest,pressingdown.
Sheleanedagainstthepipeandshuthereyes,tryingtobreathethroughthefeeling.No,

shewasn’tgoingtothinkofhim.Hewasoutofherlife.Hewasgoneandtherewasnopoint
regrettingit.She’dhadthosemomentsofhappinessatleast,andthatwassomethingtohold
onto,wasn’tit?

“Mia?”
Thesoundofhernamewasfaintinthedarknessandatfirstshedidn’tpayanyattention,

becausewhoeverwascallingwasn’tcallingforher,shewassureofthat.Nooneevenknew
shewashere.

Butthenthatsamesomeonecalledagain.“Mia!”
Sheopenedhereyes,frowning.Whatthehell?
“Mia,whereareyou?”
Shiftingonthecardboardunderneathher,Mialeanedover,peeringthroughthegap

betweenthewallandtheDumpster,tryingtoseethroughthedarkness.Itwasalmost
impossibletomakeanythingout,justatallfiguremovingslowlyintothealley.

“Mia,Iknowyou’rethere.”Amalevoice.Deep.Rich.Familiar.“Tonyfromthesheltertold

meyou’dbehere.”

Shefroze,theweightsittingonhergettingevenheavier.Becauseitcouldnotbewhoit

soundedlike.Itjustcouldn’t.

ThefigurestoppedrightbytheDumpsterandsherealizedhewasholdingsomethingin

hishand.“Mia.”Hisvoicewasquiet,hoarse.“Youleftyourhatbehind.Don’tyouwantit
back?”Shebegantoshake.Shakeandshakeandshake.Shedidn’tthinkshe’deverstop.

“Okay,soI’mnotonlyheretoreturnyourhat.Ineedtotalktoyou.Please,sweetthing.”
Allitwouldtakewouldbeforhertosaysomethingandhe’dfindherandthenshe’dbein

hisarms...andifhewalkedawayfromheragain,shewouldn’tsurviveit.Shejustwouldn’t.
Theonlywaytoprotectherselfwastostayhere.Tostayquietandtonotlethimfindher.

“I’vecometosayI’msorry,”hewentonthickly,addressingthenight.“I’vecometotell

youI’vebeenthebiggest,mostselfishfuckingcowardinthehistoryoftheworld.I...was
tryingtoprotectyou,notthatitmakesanysense,Iknow.Butthat’swhatItoldmyself.I
thoughtthatbeingawayfrommewouldbethebestthingforyou.Thatyou’dbesaferwithout
meinyourlife.AndIdidn’tevengiveyouachancetotellmewhatyouwanted.Ijustleft.”
Thesoundofhisfootsteps,soclosenow.“ButIrealizedthatitwasn’tyouIwastryingto
protect.Itwasme.Iwastryingtoprotectmyself,Mia.Because...Iloveyou.AndI’mafraid.”

Shefeltcrushed.Liketheweightonherchestwouldcontinuepressingherdownright

throughtheconcreteandoutintothesubwaybeneathher.

Love.Helovedher.
“I’mafraidofhurtingyou,sweetthing,”hewenton.“I’mafraidofnotbeinggoodenough

foryou.Butmostofall,I’mafraidoflosingyouforever.I’mafraidI’vescrewedthingsupso
badlyyou’llhidefromme,thatyouwon’twantme,andI’llnevergettotellyouhowmuch
youmeantome.”

Somethingrolleddownhercheek,thenanother,andanother,andthistimesheknew

whattheywerebecausetearsweresomethingshe’dgottenintimatelyacquaintedwithover
thepastcoupleofdays.

Helovedher.Hewasafraid.
Butshewasafraidtoo,andshedidn’tknowwhattodo.
“Mia.”Hisvoicehadgottenhoarsernow.“Mia,please.Ifyou’rehere,saysomething.I

don’tcareaboutthefuckingranch.Idon’tcareaboutanything.TheonlythingIcareaboutis
you.”

Shecouldn’tbreathe,thetearsfallingdownhercheeksinanendlessstream,andshe

knewifshewasn’tcareful,theyweregoingtofreezeonhercheeks.

Whenhasanyoneevercomebackforyou?
Never.Nooneeverhad.
“There’snofuckingMiahere.”ItwasoldPetey,theotheralleywayinmate,hisvoice

almostasbrokenandcrackedasXavier’s.“ButI’llbeherforyouifyouwant.”

Suddenlyshewasmoving,asifherfeethadamindoftheirown,shovingawaythe

cardboardoverherheadandpushingawayfromthehotpipeatherback,slippingoutfrom
behindtheDumpster.

Xavierturnedsharply,hisdeepbluegazemeetinghers.Hewasn’tinasuitthistime,

wearingjeansandateewithaheavyleatherjacketoverthetop.Herbluebeaniewasinhis
hand.

Beautiful.Sobeautiful.Agodofaman.
Agodofamanwho’dcomebackforher.
Sheopenedhermouthtosaysomething,buthewasalreadyreachingforher,already

pullingherintohisarms,gatheringherupagainsthischestandholdinghersotightshe
couldhardlygetabreath.

Thenshedidn’twanttospeakorevenbreathe,becausethesheerreliefofbeingexactly

whereshewantedtobe,whereshe’ddreamedofbeing,wastoointense.Hewassowarm,so

strong,hisfamiliarscentmakinghercryevenharder.

Hedidn’tspeak,liftingherupandstridingoutofthealleywaytowherehislimowas

parkedinthestreet.Ashepulledopenthedoor,shesaid,“Mybackpack.Ican’tleaveit.”

“Don’tworry,I’llgetit.”
Depositingherinthecar,heturnedanddisappearedintothedarkness,reappearing

secondslaterwithherbackpack.Thenhegotintothelimo,shuttingthedooronthecoldand
darknessoutside,enclosingtheminthewarmthandsafetyoftheinterior.

Heliftedthebeanieshe’dleftbehindandshedidn’tprotestwhenheputitonherhead,

pullingthesoftwooldownoverherhair.“There,”hesaidquietly.“Fitsperfectly,Cinderella.”
Thenhetuggedherbackintohisarmswithouthesitation,holdinghertightasifhewas
afraidoflettinghergo.Sheputherheadonhischest,snugglingintohimbecauseshewas
cold,butalso,shedidn’tthinkshecouldbeartohaveanydistancebetweenthem.

“Youheardallthat?”heaskedsoftly.
“Yes.”Sheletoutashakybreaththeninhaled,breathinginthatluxurious,deliciousscent

ofhim.

“Christ,I’vespenthourslookingforyou.”Hesoundedangryandshakyatthesametime.

“Youweresupposedtostayintheapartment.”

“Icouldn’t.WhenIwokeupthatmorningandsawyournote,Iwastooangrywithyou.I

didn’twanttotakeanythingyou’dleftme.Ididn’twantanythingatallfromyou.”

“Soyouwentbacktothestreets?”Onefingercaughtbeneathherchin,tiltingherhead

backtomeethisgaze.“Mia...why?”

Shedidn’tbotherwipingawayhertears.Shedidn’tcarethathesawthem.“Becausethe

homeIwantedwasyou.Andyouweren’tthere.”

Tendernessandgriefmovedoverhisface.Heshifted,cuppingherfacebetweenhishands,

bendingtokissawaythetearsonhercheeks.“Oh,God,sweetthing.I’msosorry.Ididn’t
know.Iwasonlythinkingofmyself.”Hisbreathwaswarmagainstherskin.“You’llnever
knowhowmuchIregretleaving.Ijust...IthoughtIwasdoingtherightthing.ButIwasn’t.”

“Whatrightthing?”
Heliftedhisheadagain,staringdownather.“IwasafraidI’dhurtyoulikeIhurtmy

mother,thatI’dscrewupandbreakyou,killsomethinginsideyou.Atleastthat’swhatItold
myself.But...Christ,therealitywasIleftbecauseIrealizedIwasinlovewithyou.AndI
couldn’tdealwithit.MymomalwaystoldmethatifIreallylovedher,Iwouldn’tdothe
thingsIdidthathurthersomuch.ButIdidloveher,andIguesssomepartofmedecided
thatIdidn’tknowhowtolovesomeonewithouthurtingthem.”Histhumbsmovedslowly
overhercheekbones,strokingher.“Ithoughtyoudeservedmorethanthat.”

Mia’sthroatclosedup.“Youknowthat’snottrue,don’tyou?”sheforcedout.“Idon’t

knowmuchaboutlove,butIdoknowIwouldn’tfeelthewayIdoaboutyouifyou’dhurtme.
Andyoudidn’t.”

Hishandsslidtocradlethebackofherheadinhispalms.“It’snotjustphysicalhurt.I

wasworriedabouthurtingyouemotionallytoo.”

“Youdidn’tdothateither.Apartfromleaving,ofcourse.ButlikeItoldyou,I’mpretty

tough.Icanhandlealotofthings.”Sheliftedherhands,closingherfingersaroundhisstrong
wrists.“Whatmadeyoucomeback?”

Hiseyesweredarkinthelimo,hisholdgentle.“BecauseIrealizedthattheranch,my

mom,thatwasallthepast.AndIcan’tfixthat.Itdidn’tmatter,either.Whatmatteredwas

thefuture.Whatmatteredwasyou.”Hetookanotherbreath.“Christ,Mia.Icouldgiveyou
theworldandeverythinginit,butit’snottheworldyouneed,isit?”

Herheartfelttoolarge,toofull.Likeacupwithtoomuchwaterinit.Becausehewas

right,shedidn’tneedtheworld.Righthere,rightnow,therewasonlyonethingshedidneed.

“No,”shesaidsoftly.“Youcankeeptheworld.”
Somethinginhisfacechanged,thelookinhiseyesintense.“Then...willyoutakeme

instead?”

Mialetgooneofhiswrists,ranherfingeralonghischeekbone,hisskinsmoothandhot

beneathherfingertip.“Stupidbillionaire.AllIeverwantedwasyou.”

Hewasstaringatherasifhecouldn’tgetenoughofher,asifhewastryingtomemorize

everyinchofher.“I’mgoingtotry,Mia.Iwon’tscrewthisup.Iwon’t—”

GentlyMialaidafingeracrosshismouth,silencinghim.“Youdon’tneedtotry.Justlove

me,Xavier.That’sallyouneedtodo.”

Somethingleaptinhiseyes,abrightblueflame.“Showmethen,sweetthing,”he

murmuredagainstherfinger.“Showmehowyouwanttobeloved.”

Sointhewarmdarkofthelimosheshowedhim.
Atlast,atlast.Shewashome.

Epilogue

Somethingblueflutteredbrightlyagainstthegreenofthetreesaroundher,makingMiarein
inherhorsetoseewhatitwas.AboveherBlackTopMountainreared,itsdarkpeakreaching
intotheupturnedbowlofthesky,whileontherollingplainsstretchingoutbelowher,the
ranchhousecrouchedagainsttheflankofthemountain.

SummeratBlueSkieswasalwaysamazingandshenevergottiredofit,notoftheexpanse

ofskyorthegreenplainsortherockymountainsaroundthem.Sodifferentfromthecityshe
andXavierhadleftbehindacoupleofyearsago.

Neitherofthemhadeverregrettedthemove.Notonce.
Lifewascertainlybusy,especiallynowthey’dsetuptheranchtotakeinhomelesscity

kidsoverthesummer.ButXavierthrivedonit.Helovedteachingthekidshowtorideand
shoot,andhelovedhelpingoutaroundtheranchalmostasmuchasthekidsthemselves
lovedit.

Exceptmaybethissummerhemightbemoreinterestedinthechildoftheirownthatthey

wereexpecting.

Mia’shandcametorestunconsciouslyoverherstomach,smilingattheflutterofbluein

thetree.

“Whatdoyousee,sweetthing?”
SheturnedasXavierrodeupbesideher,lookingeveryinchthecompetentrancherinhis

Wranglers—nottomentionincrediblyhot.“Justabluebird.”

Hisgazewenttoherwrist,wherethebluebirdcharmshe’dfoundbackinheralleywas

nowonaspecialbracelethe’dhadmadeforher,andgrinned.“Abluebird,huh?Whowould
havethought?”

Wellshewouldn’thave.Shewouldn’thavethoughtinamillionyearsthatwhenshe’d

pickedupthatcharmthatday,thatshe’denduphere,inWyoming,lookingatareallive
bluebird,withthemanshelovedathersideandthatbluebirdcharmhangingfromherwrist.

Hersmilewasveryspecialandjustforhim.“AllthattimeandIneverknewthatwhatI

wascarryingwasmyhome.”

Heshiftedhishorsecloser,leaningoverinhissaddletobrushhismouthoverhers.“A

birdisn’tyourhome,sweetthing.”

“No,it’snot.”Shetouchedhisfacegently.“Youare.”
“Andyou’remine.”Hisgrindeepenedintoasmilethattookherbreathaway.“Isthisthe

bitwherewerideoffintothesunset?”

Shelaughed.“Wecould,butit’snotevennoon.”
“Oh,Ihaveanideaabouthowwecouldspendthetime.”Therewaswickednessinhisblue

eyes,herveryfavoritekind.

“Uh-huh.”Sheleanedforwardinhersaddle.“Iwonderwhatthatcouldbe?”
Xavierslidoffhishorse,grabbingthereinsandloopingthemaroundafencepost.Thenhe

cameovertoher,stoppingbesideherhorseandliftinghisarmstoher.“Comeondownlittle
girl,andI’llshowyou.”

“Youknow,that’sthebestofferI’vehadallday.”Miagrinned,tossingawaythereinsand

slidingdownoffthehorse.

Hecaughther,gatheringherinclose.“Oh,andbytheway,”hemurmuredinherear.“I

loveyou.Justincaseyoudidn’tknow.”

Itwassomethinghetoldhereverydayandshenever,evergotsickofhearingit.
“Iloveyoutoo.”Shesmiledandputherarmsaroundhisneck.“Mybluebird.”
Helaughed,hiseyesasblueastheskyabovetheirhead.Andwhenhelaidherdownon

thegrass,theygotbluerstill.

Butthatwasasitshouldbe.
Becausebluewasthecolorofhome.

ReadonforanexcerptfromthenextsensationalromancebyJackieAshenden,

THEBILLIONAIREBEAST

COMINGSOONFROMST.MARTIN’SPAPERBACKS

Aloudsoundechoedaroundtheroom,asifsomeonehadthrownopenher

bedroomdoorwithsuchforceithadsmackedintothewall,andshewokeupfor

realthistime.Andtherewerenoblackeyeslookingdownather.Nohandson

herbody.Onlythecanopyoftheridiculousfourposterbedshesleptin.

Shehadbeendreaming.ThankGod,thankGod,thankGod.
Herheartthunderedinherears,herbreathingfastandhard.Hersheetsweredampand

stickingtoher,andshefelthot.Toohot.Andrestlessand...otherthings.

Heavinginabreath,theeffectsofthedreampumpingthroughherbody,shepushed

herselfgroggilyupright,clutchingatthesheetandsquintingtowardthedoorwaytoseewhat
thehellwashappening.

Someonehad,indeed,thrownopenherbedroomdoorandnowthatsomeonewas

standinginthedoorway,takingupmostofit.

Someoneverylarge.
Athrillofprimitivefearbolteddownherspine,herbraintryingtomakesenseofthe

loomingshape,stillmuzzywithsleepandthelastshredsofthedisturbingdream.

Definitelyaman.Verytall,withmassivelybroadshoulders.
Nero.
Sheknewthesecurityhehadinhishouse,no-oneelsewouldgetpastitunlesshehimself

letthem.Whichmeantthatofcourseitwashim.Andthatshouldhavemadeherfeelbetter,
butitdidn’t.Ifanything,itonlymadethatprimitivejoltoffearbecomeanearthquake.

Hermouthburned,herheartbeatgettingfaster,thememoryofthekisshe’dgivenher

echoingthroughherentirebody.Hot.Desperate.Shattering.

She’dneverbeenkissedlikethatbefore,notwithoutherpermission.Notwithoutbeing

asked.Charleshadaskedbeforehe’dkissedherthatfirsttime,hisblueeyesfullofgentle
desireandhope.Andithadbeenlightandtentativeandshe’dbeenutterlycharmedbyit.

Nero’skisshadnotbeencharming.Ithadnotbeenlightortentative.Therehadbeenno

gentledesireinit,nodesperatehope.He’dtakenthatkisswhethershe’dwantedtogiveitto
himornot,andhe’dbeenruthless.Pushingdownherbottomlipwithhisthumb,histongue
slidingdeepintohermouth,onehandhardonthebackofherneck,theotherhardonher
chin.Keepingherinplace,holdingherthere.Makinghertakeit.Takingwithoutpermission
likehehadn’theardwhatshe’dtoldhimthatheneededtorespectherchoice.

Butthatwasn’ttheworstthing.No,theworstthingwashowsomethinginsideherhad

just...eruptedlikeavolcanoexploding.Awild,primitive,outofcontrolpartofherthat
she’dhadnoideawaseventhere.

Apartthatdidn’tcareaboutthefactthatshewasengaged,thatherfiancéwaslyingina

hospitalbedinacoma.Apartthatdidn’tcarethatshewasinlovewithonemanwhilebeing

kissedbyanother.Apartthatjustdidn’tcareaboutanythingbutitself.

ThatpartwantedNero’skiss.Itwasdesperatetobetouched,tobestroked.Itwasso

hungryforconnection,itached.Anditknewthathere,atlast,wassomeonewhocouldgiveit
theconnectionitwanted,thetouchitdesperatelycraved.Anditjustdidn’tcareabout
anythingbutthat.

Itterrifiedandexcitedherinequalmeasure.
She’drunfromtheroom,thinkingofnothingbutputtingdistancebetweenherandNero.

Thetasteofhimwasinhermouth,hotandalcoholicanddelicious,andsheknewthatifshe
stoppedrunning,shemightverywellturnaroundandgobackintothelibraryformore.So
shedidn’tstoprunninguntilshe’dgottentoherroom,whereshe’dlockedthedoorthen
turnedontheshower,switchingittocold.Andshe’dstoodundertheicysprayuntilherteeth
hadbeguntochatterandtheheatinsideherhadcooled.Thenshe’dgottenout,wrapped
herselfinherfavoritedressinggown,andorderedthewomenNerohadwanted.

Shedidn’tthinkaboutthatkissagain.Didn’tthinkaboutthefactthatwomenhe’dwanted

wereredheads.Didn’tthinkaboutthatneedy,achingpartofherthatwashelplesslydrawnto
hisintense,uninhibitedmasculinesexuality.

Sheonlypickedupabookandlostherselfinthatinstead.Thenshe’dgonetobedand

dreamed...

Neromovedsuddenlyfromthedoorway,stalkingtowardher,looselimbedandpredatory

asapanther.

Thefearinsidehertightenedandshegrabbedquicklyfortheswitchforthelightonher

nightstand,flickingiton.

Whyonearthwashehere?Heshouldhavebeencoziedupwiththeescortsshe’dgotten

forhim,notcomingtoseeher.Unlesstheyweren’tsuitable?Ormaybetheyhadn’tturned
up?Ordidhewantsomethingelse?

Youknowwhathewants.
Well,hewasoutofluck,wasn’the?NomatterwhathethreatenedtodoaboutCharles’s

hospitalcare,shewasn’tsleepingwithhim.Andifshelostherjobbecauseofit—

Herthoughtswerecutoffaslightfloodedtheroom,illuminatingNero’srough,brutally

handsomefeatures.Andherheartpausedmid-beatattheexpressiononhisface.

Hiseyeswereglittering,hisjawtightandhard,hislipscurledbackinanalmostsnarl.He

lookedabsolutelyandcompletelyfurious.

Phoebeclutchedthesheettoherchestinanunconsciouslyprotectivegesture.“What’s

wrong?It’sthemiddleofthenight.Isthere—”

“Explainsomethingtome,”hedemanded,lowandrough,continuingtocometowardher.
“Explainwhat?”
“ExplaintomehowIcanhavetwobeautifulwomeninmyroom.”Heroundedthebed,

comingtoovertoherside,and,toheruttershock,sittingdownontheedge,rightnexttoher.
Thenbeforeshecouldmove,heputonehandonthemattressoneithersideofherhipsand
leanedoverher,forcinghertoliebackalmostonthepillowstogetawayfromhim.“Two
gorgeous,nakedwomen,”hewenton.“Whoaredesperatetopleaseme.Andyet,Idon’t
fuckingwanteitherofthem.”Therewasfuryinhisgazeandsomethingelseshecouldn’t
quiteread.“Explainthattome,PhoebeTaylor.”

Sheswallowed,hermouthgonedry.Hewasvery,veryclose.Tooclose.Hisbig,hardbody

leaningoverher,radiatingheatandthatdarkelectricitythathadgoosebumpsrisingallover

herskin.Thatmadehershiver.Thatmadeherwantthingsshe’dneverwantedbeforeand
couldn’tforthelifeofherunderstandwhyshewantedthemnow.

Itwasthedream.Ithadtobe.Thatandtwoyearsofcelibacy,thoughshehadn’tthought

she’dbethetypeofwomanwhomissedsexsince,quitefrankly,itwasn’tthebeallandend
all.

“Idon’tknow,”shesaidthickly.“Igotyouthewomenyoutoldmetoget.Thosewerethe

onesyousaidyouwanted.”

Hisgazewassofullofheatandfuryshealmostcouldn’tlookatit.“AndyetIdon’twant

them.Idon’twanttotouchthem.Idon’twanttofuckthem.They’renaked,inmybedright
now,andallIcanfuckingthinkaboutisyou.”

Shockexpandedslowlyinsideher,likeanexplosioninslow-motion.
Hehadn’tcomeafterherafterthatkissinthelibrarysoshe’dthoughtshe’dbeenrightin

herinitialassumption.Thathedidn’twanther,hewantedsex.

Apparentlynot.
“M-Me?”Hervoicewasstutteringandhesitantandfaint,andshehatedthesoundofit.“I

mean,Idon’tknowwhy—”

“Yes,you,”hecutheroff,adark,roughnoteinthewordsthatwassomehowthrilling,

eventhoughshedidn’twantittobe.“Theydon’tlooklikeyou.Theydon’tsoundlikeyou.
AndwhenIkissedthem,theydidn’ttastelikeyou.AndthatwasallIcouldfuckingthink
about.”Hisexpressionbecameevenmoreintense,thelookinhiseyessharpasblades.“What
haveyoudonetome,Phoebe?Whatthefuckhaveyoudone?”

Sheshrankbackontothepillow,herheartbeatoutofcontrol,astrangeprickling

sensationcrawlingoverher.Asifshe’dpassedtooclosetoanelectricfieldandthestaticwas
cracklingoverherskin.

Shewasafraid.Ofhim.
No,you’renot.You’reafraidofwhathemakesyoufeel.
“Ihaven’tdoneanything,”sheforcedout,tryingtosoundlikeherusualcalmselfand

failing.“Ican’thelpitifyoudon’twantthosewomen.”

Nerosaidnothing,staringatherwithsuchintensityshebegantofeellikehewastryingto

igniteherwiththepowerofhismindalone.

Andthereallyterriblepartwasthatitwasworking.
Thedreamglowedinsideher,bankedcoalssmoldering,readytoburstintoflameatany

moment,readytoburn...

No.Shedidn’twantNerodeSantis.Maybeshewantedtofixwhatwasbrokeninsidehim,

butshedidn’twanthim.Notthismansittingrightnexttoher,leaningoverher,thehot
masculinescentofhimsurroundingher,overwhelmingher.Hewastoomuch.Toobig.Too
demanding.Tooarrogant.Tooselfish.

Tooexciting.Toochallenging.Toosexy.
Shealmostshookherhead.God,itdidn’tmatterhowsexyorotherwisethemansitting

nexttoherwas,shewasengagedtoCharles.ShelovedCharles.

“I’llupyoursalary,”Nerosaidroughly.“I’llpaythehospitalandyousixfiguresper

month.”

Hermindreeled.Thatwas...insane.
Butyou’dneverhavetoworryaboutCharles’scareeveragain.
Oh,God.Theanxietyofhowtopayforthehospitalbillsthatkeptpilingup,monthafter

monthasCharles’sconditionstayedexactlythesame,wasneverending.Whatwoulditbe
liketonothavethat?Tobefreeofit?

WhatwoulditbeliketohaveNero?
Herfingerstwistedinthesheet.“AndifIrefuse?””
Hebaredhisteethinasnarl.“Don’trefuse.”
“Soallthattalkaboutrespect.Itmeantnothingtoyou?”
“Itwouldhavemeantsomethingifyouhadn’tkissedmelikeyouwisheditwasmycockin

yourmouthnotmytongue.”Thewordswererough-edgedandbrutalandhelookedatheras
ifhewantedtoeatheralive.“Youwanttotalkaboutrespect?Thenhowaboutyourespect
yourownfuckingdesires.”

Electricitysnakeddownherspine,awhitehotthrill.“Idon’thaveanydesires,”shesaid

desperately.

“Liar.”Heraisedhishandandjerkedthesheetfromhergrasp,pullingitrightoffher.
Apatheticlittlecryofprotestescapedherandshereachedforthecotton,desperateto

coverherself,buthegrabbedbothherwristsandheldtheminanirongrip.

Shestilled,thebreathshudderinginherthroat,halfterrifiedandhalf...No,no.She

couldnotbeturnedonbythis.Shecouldnotwantthis.Strugglingtocontainthethick,
confusingknotofemotionsinsideher,sheaskedinwhatshehopedwasacool,calmvoice,
“Whatareyoudoing?”

Hesaidnothing,merelyholdingherwrists,hisgazelockedwithhers.
Thesmolderingembersinsideherbegantoglow,likethelookinhiseyeswasabreathon

hotcoals,anditmadethefearinsideherclenchtight.Becauseshedidn’twantthesefeelings.
Shedidn’twanttowanthim.Therewasanothermanshewanted,anothermansheloved.

Henevermadeyoufeellikethisthough.
Withoutaword,Nerobroughtherwriststogetherandtransferredthemtoonelarge,

stronghand,holdingontightly.Thenwithhisfreehandhereacheddowntothelong,lacy
whitenightgownsheworeandslidhisfingersbeneaththehem.

AbouttheAuthor

JackieAshendenlivesinAuckland,NewZealandwithherhusband,theinimitableDr.Jax,
andtheirtwokidsandtwocats.Whenshe’snottorturingalphamalesandtheirstroppy
heroines,shecanbefounddrinkingchocolatemartinis,readinganythingshecanlayher
handson,postingrandomcraponherblog,orbeingforcedtogomountainbikingwithher
husband.
Jackiewritesdark,sexycontemporaryromanceforStMartin’sPress,includingtheNewYork
BillionairesClubseriesofnovellas.YoucanfindJackieatwww.jackieashenden.comorfollow
heronTwitter@JackieAshenden.

Youcansignupforemailupdates

here

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AlsobyJackieAshenden

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THEBILLIONDOLLARBADBOY

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TableofContents

TitlePage

CopyrightNotice

Chapter1

Chapter2

Chapter3

Chapter4

Chapter5

Chapter6

Chapter7

Chapter8

Chapter9

Chapter10

Chapter11

Epilogue

Excerpt:TheBillionaireBeast

AbouttheAuthor

AlsobyJackieAshenden

CopyrightPage

Thisisaworkoffiction.Allofthecharacters,organizations,andeventsportrayedinthisnovelareeitherproductsofthe

author’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.

“TheBillionaire’sVirgin”Copyright©2017byJackieAshenden.

ExcerptfromTheBillionaireBeastCopyright©2017byJackieAshenden.

Allrightsreserved.Forinformation,addressSt.Martin’sPress,175FifthAvenue,NewY ork,N.Y .10010.

www.stmartins.com

CoverDesignandIllustrationbyShutterstock

Authorphoto©JackieCoates

eISBN978-1-250-13674-9(ebook)

FirsteBookEdition:January2017

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andPremiumSalesDepartmentat1-800-221-7945,ext.5442,orbye-mailat

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