Another thing puzzled me. Why had I told her about Dad and the beating I’d witnessed? About how I’d had to stand by and watch my brothers get hurt? Her comments about her own guards and the artless questions about why I hadn’t been given the same treatment had somehow got under my skin.
Or perhaps it had simply been the way she’d put her arms around me, her soft lips against my neck. How she’d nuzzled against me, her breath on my skin and her hands on my bare chest. Her warmth and familiar scent had eased a tension I hadn’t known was there. A tension that had nothing to do with sex.
It made me fucking uncomfortable. Maybe that’s why I’d told her what I had. To make her as uncomfortable as she made me. So she knew I wasn’t a man she could throw her arms around whenever she pleased or treat like someone safe. Who wouldn’t hurt her if she got between him and his goal.
Like you hurt your brothers?
The truth shifted inside me, digging in, sharp like a knife.
Yeah, I wasn’t that man and she had to understand that.
Hitting the button that would call her father, I waited as it rang once and then White’s furious voice was answering.
‘King, you bastard! I’ve been trying to—’
‘Next week,’ I cut him off curtly. ‘Wednesday night. I’ll send through the details of where and when to meet.’
‘But I—’
‘There will be no negotiation. You wanted proof of life, you’ll get it. That’s all.’
I hit the disconnect button before he could argue further.
There. It was done.
Next week she’d meet her father and once he’d ascertained that I hadn’t hurt her or touched her, he’d leave Sydney.
And take her with him.
That had always been the deal. I’d never intended to keep her. My threat to make her mine had extended to her virginity only to ensure White’s obedience.
I’d let her go and her father would take her to Melbourne or wherever he intended to set himself up, continuing to use her as his tool to build his pathetic little empire.
You’re really going to give her back to him? What will happen to her if he finds out you touched her?
I lifted my head, stared out at the sea, at the yachts in the harbour, sailing to places I could never go.
He wouldn’t find out I’d touched her; I’d made sure of that. But as to letting her go... What other choice did I have? If I kept her, White would make things difficult. My investigations had discovered that he’d built quite the web and I didn’t have the time to take it apart. Not when I had a whole lot of other projects on my plate. Especially that social housing project. It had been on the backburner for a while and I wanted to get it front and centre. Protecting my city was one thing, but doing something good for it was quite another.
Apart from anything else, I’d spent years dismantling my father’s empire and frightening off other challengers. I wanted to do something meaningful, that wasn’t about banging heads together.
Putting more distance between him and you? Yeah. Sure.
I ignored the thought.
No, I couldn’t keep Imogen. She had to go back to her father in the end.
I’d tell her about the meeting with her father tonight, and ease the sting by taking her somewhere private, where she could enjoy being out of the house for a change.
I watched one of the yachts tacking slowly against the wind and smiled.
I had the perfect place.
A couple of hours later it was all organised, then I busied myself with finally dealing with my brothers.
I sent them a couple of texts reminding them I was out of contact and busy. The situation with White’s daughter was being dealt with and they weren’t to concern themselves with it. On pain of me being severely pissed with them.
Of course, within moments of the messages being sent, both Xander and Leon tried to call me. I ignored them. I didn’t want to talk to them. Once Imogen and her father were gone, then I’d tell them, but not before.
It wasn’t till the late afternoon that I realised I hadn’t seen Imogen.
I went upstairs to check if she was still in my office and she was, sitting in the same position I’d left her in that morning, staring hard at the computer screen. Some official-looking document was open on it and she was frowning at it.
There was something different about her and it took me a moment to figure out what it was. She was sitting still. Her foot wasn’t jiggling and she wasn’t humming. She wasn’t shifting around or doing any of the other things I’d watched her do over the past couple of days.
Her attention was focused so fiercely on the screen it was as if she was trying to see inside to the electronics themselves.
I leaned against the doorframe. ‘Little one.’
She didn’t even look at me.
‘Little one.’
She twitched, but didn’t look away from the screen.
‘Imogen,’ I finally said, amused.
She glanced at me, blinked, then grinned. ‘Oh. Sorry. Did you want something?’
‘You’ve been sitting there all day. Did you even have lunch?’
‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘I don’t think I did. But I had a good look at your building and a whole lot of social housing stuff, what’s available in New South Wales and the rules and regulations—that kind of thing.’ Her eyes were shining. ‘It’s quite complicated. Lots of things to figure out. I mean, I guess you’ve done all that?’
I couldn’t help smiling. ‘I’ve done some things. Haven’t had a chance to investigate others.’
‘Do you want me to tell you what I discovered?’ She turned back to the computer, hit a button and the printer whirred into life. There was already quite a stack of paper beside it.
Clearly, she’d been busy.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘But you can tell me tonight over dinner.’
‘Okay. Let me know if you want me to do anything, because I might just stay here and—’
‘No,’ I interrupted. ‘I’m taking you out.’
‘Out? As in out of the house out?’
‘Yes, out of the house out.’
She smiled the most beautiful smile. ‘Seriously?’
There was an unfamiliar warmth in my chest that hadn’t been there before, somehow called into life by her smile.
It had been a long time since I’d done anything to make anyone happy. The big picture didn’t include individuals.
Certainly not individuals like this one, who smiled at me as if I’d handed her the fucking moon on a plate.
‘Where are we going?’ she went on. ‘To a restaurant? Like, Asian food? I love Japanese. Or Indian—I love Indian too. Thai is pretty cool. But I don’t really mind. If we have steak, though, it must have fries with it, because you can’t have steak without chips, right?’
Adorable. Delightful. Exuberant. Full of interest and questions and excitement. And, despite how she’d been trapped in the prison her father had created for her, there was an optimism to her that I didn’t have and probably never would.
She