She laughed, a dry sound that annoyed the heck outta him. He couldn’t figure out why, and Cade Sloan always had answers.
She squinted up at him. “Which you haven’t paid for yet.” She swept her glasses from the sink ledge and propped them on her nose.
“After I’ve sampled the goods—” He paused, allowing his words to tell their own story. “We’ll cash out in the morning.” He wiggled his brows. “Divvy up the loot.” He inclined his head toward a manila envelope on the coffee table, barely visible from her vantage point. “Wedding gift.” His words crackled with cynicism. “Delivered when you were in the shower. The other half will arrive tomorrow.”
“Your half or mine?”
“Very funny.”
She fluttered her eyelashes and, about to smack him with a smart retort, she keeled over. He leaped up and caught her in his arms. For a heartbeat, she struggled against him, and then eased in his embrace. She smelled fresh…of soap, shampoo and woman. Different than most women whose heavy perfumes nearly knocked him out. A chuckle threatened, and he locked it in his throat. He scooped her up and took her to bed.
As soon as her head hit the pillow, she conked out. He allowed his gaze to travel from the damp hair framing her face to her smooth shoulders, pausing at her cleavage barely visible above the towel still wrapped around her body. Skimming her thighs, he noted the slight bend to her legs on the bedding, the curve of her calf, her slim ankles, the arch of her foot, her hot pink polished toenails. She had one arm sprawled over her head and the other bent, her hand cushioning her cheek. Her golden tipped lashes brushed her cheeks and the sprinkle of freckles on her nose made his lips twitch a smile. It vanished when he focused on her mouth. Palest pink. He could imagine it tasting sweet.
He shook his head. A sex kitten if he ever saw one. And he’d seen plenty. Logistically, with his work schedule it’d been impossible to do more than enjoy the view. A heavy sigh shoved its way from his belly, and he scratched his chin with his knuckles. He had his morals…and his instincts.
He could smell a bad rap a mile off. Made it a rule to stay clear of women who showed their claws, became too possessive and made demands—who would want to change him, complicating his life.
And for that, the newshounds coined him a callous ‘love ’em ’n leave’em, s.o.b.’
A hollow sound burst from deep inside him.
Nina stirred, a moan which was almost a purr feathered from her lips.
He snapped out of his turbulent thoughts and focused on her. She’d catch a cold if she stayed in that damp towel. Gently, he removed her glasses and set them on the bedside table. Unfurling the towel from around her body, he got the breath knocked out of him before he gathered himself and pulled the covers over her body. He touched her cheek in a fleeting caress and stepped away.
He wouldn’t be sampling his high priced ‘investment’ tonight.
A series of chills grazed his nape, but he dismissed them as the effect of the night breeze drifting in from the balcony. He rubbed the back of his neck, and chuckled at his foolishness, his gaze fixed on the ugly duckling turned swan in his bed.
His jaw tightened, and he felt himself harden.
He drew in a deep breath, then another, before heading for the shower.
Tomorrow night. He’d bring this deal to a close.
One year later…
It had taken Cade Sloan a year to the day to track down his gold-digging ex-spouse. Lil’ Nina McLowsky had conned the con. He slid his powerful length from the limo and dismissed his chauffeur’s attempt to open the door for him with a curt hand. He grimaced. Technically, she wasn’t quite his ex yet, but she’d be soon enough. Right after he collected his dues.
“Meet me here in one hour.” He glanced at the hot pink Fantasy Secrets sign splashed above the boutique’s entrance and curled his lip in a silent snarl.
“Si, Signore Sloan.” The chauffeur tipped his hat, sat back in the driver’s seat, drove past the Fountain of Neptune next to the Palazzo Vecchio, and eased his way toward Via Cassio; the limo appearing out of place amidst the Vespas, a popular mode of transport for the Florentine locals.
Cade turned to bridge the two steps to the storefront, when the door swung open, giving him a view of the shapely backside of a blonde.
A muscle jarred his jaw.
It was her. Even with hair several shades lighter, he’d know her anywhere.
“Mille grazie, Julie for locking up today.” She propped a pair of sunglasses on her crown, whirled around, her shoulder handbag swinging, and smacked into him.
“Steady there,” he muttered, grabbing her shoulders. The connection between them sizzled through his shirt and straight into his chest, but the padlock of ice around his heart made it fizzle to a vapor.
“Oops, mi scusi—” She glanced up and color drained from her face. She swayed on her stiletto heels and his hands tightened over her arms. “You?”
“Me.” The one word shot from his mouth like a bullet in the air between them.
Her coke bottle-thick glasses had disappeared. Her lashes heavy laden with mascara framed her baby blues, now on alert. Her pink-painted mouth unsmiling. He shifted his gaze lower and got a boot in the groin. Her summer dress molded her every curve—the swell of her breasts, the accent of her waist, the roundness of her hips. Her legs were bare, tanned, sexy. He smothered a grunt. Her hair was tied back with a pink ribbon, flowing down her shoulders, and he remembered how silky— No. He didn’t want to go there. Strictly out of bounds.
“We’re closed.” Nina pushed him aside, her golden hoop earrings jangling, and moved one step up to gain the extra height to look him in the eye. At five foot two, every inch counted. What she glimpsed in his golden-brown gaze knocked her back and she seized the doorjamb for support. Her pulse pounded, and she licked her lips.
He zeroed in on her mouth, and his Adam’s apple moved. A long, hot beat, and he shrugged.
“Haven’t come for your…er…services—”
The crack of her hand across his cheek made her palm vibrate, but he barely flinched, except to enclose her wrist between his iron hard fingers.
“I’ve come for you.” He coiled his lip in a near sneer. “To collect a debt owed.”
“We’re history.” She lowered her Roberto Cavalli sunglasses over her eyes and made to go past him.
“Right after you pay up, lil’ darlin’.”
“I owe you nothing.”
He yanked her hard against his chest, swooped down and stole a kiss. “That’s a hint of what you owe, in addition to the million and a half you slipped out with.” Deliberately, he removed her sunglasses and hooked them in the pocket of his shirt.
She went to snatch them back, and he leaned away from her reach.
“Uh, uh.” He clicked his tongue. “Must’ve cost a euro or two, mmm?”
Oh, but he was a horrible man. How could she have imagined she’d felt anything