14. Harrison
14
HARRISON
I ’ll never admit it to anyone, but sometimes I’m a fucking idiot.
Still, I’m never a fucking idiot two days in a row.
I rise early and punish my body with a hard workout before showering and selecting a suit. It’s nearly ten when I meet Toro at the front of the villa for the drive to Christian’s house.
“Pleasant evening?” he asks, meeting my gaze in the mirror.
“Interesting.”
Getting Rae’s song played last night at La Mer wasn’t planned.
I believe in her, but I’m practical too. The business part of my brain reminded me La Mer has its pick of the world’s top DJs regardless of who owns it.
And she will be one of the best.
The possibility that she needed to hear that had never occurred to me because she’s so damn independent.
I’m supposed to want to put things right in my business, and my life. It matters more than anything. Except…
All I could think about last night was proving myself to Rae.
So, I grabbed her and did what I’ve been thinking about for fucking weeks.
Kissing her on the dance floor wasn’t planned, but when I saw her cutting through the crowd, searching me out, a beast unfurled inside me. One that wanted to protect her. To make sure nothing ever hurt her the way I had.
My reward was the single hottest kiss of my life.
She’s infiltrated my life, and I have no one to blame but myself. I brought her here, was hellbent on punishing her and reclaiming what she’d cost me.
Instead, she’s turned me inside out.
She’s a siren with a sound system and the power to move everyone she can reach. And even though she hasn’t spilled her problems at my feet, I see her pain as plainly as if she had.
The woman lives out of a single suitcase, has a love-hate relationship with the bottle of pills she hasn’t touched since I replaced them, and creates extraordinary music.
But I have to keep the part of me that’s obsessed with Raegan Madani in check this morning because we’re back to business and Brioni.
“Well, if you have more interesting evenings planned, I hope you will celebrate her birthday,” Toro says.
“Her birthday?” I echo.
“This weekend.”
I bite my tongue before saying what comes to mind. What the fuck do you get the woman you can’t get out of your head when you have no business thinking about her?
We’re not dating. At worst, she’s my hostage. At best, my employee.
Except neither of those labels feels adequate to describe what’s happening between us.
I want her in my bed. But more than that, I want to do something for her, something she can’t do for herself.
When we pull up to the villa, I shift out of the car and fasten my jacket, thanking Toro before I take the steps two at a time.
My intention is to conclude this deal today. Of course, the signing will come later, but Christian is a man of his word. He won’t reverse once we shake on it.
The door is opened by a young woman with light-brown hair and a familiar bone structure. “Mr. King. Please come in.” Her light French accent matches Christian’s.
She shows me to a study where the man in question is watching a baseball game.
“Americans. I will never understand them and their sports,” he muses.
“But you want to enough to watch a twelve-hour-old Yankees game.”
“Don’t tell me the winner.” He grins. “Perhaps I will need a house there when I retire.”
He could buy a dozen. More, if he wanted.
He adds, “My daughter has taken a liking to you.”
I glance toward the now-closed doors, remembering the woman who let me in. “That’s very flattering.”
Christian makes an espresso from the machine in the corner and holds it out. I take the coffee as he makes another.
“As uncivilized as it is, let’s be direct,” I say. “My interest in the club remains unchanged.”
“I’m sure it does.” He smirks.
“Your club is unquestionably one of the best. But it is not without weaknesses.” I rhyme off a list of things I observed last night, things he must know about.
His smile evaporates, leaving a deep frown.
“All of these things would lower its market value. But I’m prepared to pay full price.”
“How gracious of you.” His tone drips frost. “Just because you have an idea of what the club needs to be does not mean others share it. You bring it under your empire, it will become a commodity like the others.”
“I will not commoditize your venue, Christian. It’s a cathedral.”
I think of Rae’s comments about me being unreasonable and try a new approach. “You knew my parents. You trusted one another, even worked together on a few deals. I’m my father’s son, and you can trust me to take care of your legacy.”
Christian nods toward two armchairs framing a window, and we each claim one. “On the last point, I agree.”
My hands tighten on the overstuffed chair. “So, you’ll sell me La Mer.”
He takes a sip of his drink—the slowest fucking sip I’ve ever seen. “Why don’t you show my daughter the city first? After, we can talk.”
A dawning sense of horror starts at my toes, creeps up my spine, and finishes on a long inhale. He wants me to take his daughter out?
“…finishing her third year of university,” he’s saying. “Sylvie hasn’t spent time here since she was a child.”
She still is one.
There are two reasons a woman would want me, and only one of which her father would approve of—my money.
I’m not looking to saddle myself with a charge—even if it means landing the property I’ve coveted for as long as I can remember.
My refusal has nothing to do with the face of another woman occupying altogether too much space in my brain. One who’s also too young for me but who elicits an entirely different reaction at the thought of being saddled with her.
I choose my next words carefully. “I’m a terrible tour guide. And I’m quite sure I have nothing else to offer your daughter.”
“Are you seeing someone?”
“Perhaps the woman you brought to my party?” Christian presses. “She was charming.”
I gesture toward the television. “An American on holiday.”
“Ahh. She’ll go back to her world, and you’ll be in yours.”
The truth in his words makes me want to break the espresso cup.
She’s back with a vengeance. The way she looks playing the booth at my club. How she flips both fingers in the air.
How I want her not to sheathe her claws but bare them, to rake them over every inch of me.
I hate the idea of her leaving. Once I arrange the purchase of La Mer, I’ll finish the season in Ibiza and return to… what exactly? Shuttling between properties in London and Tokyo? Eating expensive meals with socialites and models, doing deals on airplanes?
Even if I wanted to get closer to Rae, her contract is almost up. She’ll be gone with the money she so shrewdly bargained for, and I’ll have a resurrected club in the form of Debajo.
It seems a fair trade.
But it doesn’t feel like it.
“Harrison, I would like to finalize this deal as much as you would. I’m an old man with many things occupying my time until I can divest myself of them. However, I can’t focus on them when the most important one is beyond those doors.” He gestures toward the hallway, his eyes crinkling. “I’m asking you, as a friend, to take my daughter around town. She hasn’t told me she wants this, but I sense it in her. She would not ask for it. And alas, she does not want to be shown by her father.”
I set the espresso on the table, untouched.
“As long as you and she understand this is nothing more.”
He lifts his hands. “I would not presume to meddle in matters of the heart. I am more interested in matters of finance.” Christian drains the last of his coffee before rising, indicating we’re done. “And soon, I will no longer be interested in those either.”
* * *
“Does Toro know you’re waxing his car?”
Rae’s voice from a few feet behind me later that afternoon makes me straighten from the fender of the Rolls-Royce.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I say, tossing the rag over my shoulder and wiping an arm across my brow as I turn. “He’ll have my head.”
In the middle of my driveway, she’s a mirage. Her black shorts are trendy, her white top with wide straps that leave her shoulders bare clings to every curve, and her hair is down around her shoulders.
She could pass for a local, and she’s stunning.
Rae sidles closer, folding her arms and squinting into the sun to meet my gaze. “He told me he was the first staff you hired back after your parents died once you could afford to.”
“A man needs a driver and a housekeeper.”
“Did you have a house to keep?”
“A rental at first,” I concede, returning to my task.
“I didn’t know you owned a T-shirt.”
“Only this one.” If I’d known a T-shirt would have this effect on her, maybe I would wear them more often. “When I need to clear my head, I try to do something… simple.”
I’m still bothered by my meeting with Christian and not comfortable with where we landed. Part of my discomfort has to do with the woman next to me.
Rae surveys the car and me. “Well, your head doesn’t seem clear, and the car’s shinier than the day it came out of the factory.”
I arch a brow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning let’s go.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re at the docks in town, walking amongst the tourists and those who’ve docked their yachts.
She told me to wear the T-shirt and shorts, but I changed into a short-sleeved button-down.
I might be grumpy, but I’m not a heathen.
Rae frowns at the yachts. “These boats are ridiculous.”
Her surprise makes me grin. “It’s Ibiza. The owners come here to play and to show off.”
I nod toward the nearest vessel. “The Ariadne . She’s here every summer.”
“What about that one? Dolce Vita .”
“Usually not until later in the year.”
My phone buzzes, and I frown, holding it away to read the screen.
“You do need glasses,” Rae murmurs, and I scoff.
“A sign of weakness.”
“A sign you’re smart enough to know you can’t fucking see.” Her plain tone makes me press my lips together. “And I think they’d look good on you.”
I pocket the phone, conflicted. A single word of praise from this woman turns me into a damn teenager.
“You’ve never been on one?” I nod at the yachts. “They have all manner of toys. Saunas, pool, theaters, private chefs.”
“Because there’s nothing like a meal from your private chef on a boat like that.” Her voice is dry, but there’s a hint of curiosity under the surface, as if she wants to know for sure.
“There’s nothing like fucking on a boat like that. Conquering the ocean, feeling as if nature herself can’t help but tremble along with the person beneath you.”
She turns toward me, and the expression on her face has my body heating in arousal as I think of the kiss last night.
Unplanned.
Disturbingly provocative.
Like her.
“You will play that club someday, Raegan.”
She didn’t need my belief in her last night, but she wanted it. I’ve told myself the past few weeks have been about repairing my business, that she was a tool to build Debajo back up to its prior profitability.
The fact that I’ve immensely enjoyed watching her do it is natural. It is my club, after all.
But perhaps it’s more than that.
Perhaps it’s about her .
My words have the opposite effect than the one I intend, making her frown rather than smile.
A group of tourists shoves past us, and I reach out and tug her to my side.
Her curves fit to my body, the ripeness of her breasts, the soft give between her thighs.
We could be any couple on vacation taking a break from devouring one another to enjoy the sights.
Her lips part as she feels how her closeness affects me.
“Ash said something to me?—“
“Fuck my brother.” I thread my fingers in the hair at the base of her neck, caressing her skin. “It’s not my brother you get off to. It’s not Ash you lay in bed thinking of.”
Rae’s eyes darken. “Sex doesn’t solve problems, Harrison. It creates them.”
“Then you haven’t had the right partner,” I contend.
But when the group has passed, she pulls away.
“You don’t have to like me to want me,” I say as I fall into step next to her, pretending the rejection doesn’t sting.
“I don’t sleep with rich, entitled assholes.”
I shove both hands in my pockets, hard, and squint into the sun. “Then you’ll have to continue to get yourself off.”
“Or I’ll have to decide you’re a good man.”
Surprise has me jerking my head to look at her.
“You can be,” she goes on. “I’ve seen it. When you stop being so consumed with conquering the world and you take a moment to appreciate what’s in it.”
She sweeps her hair off her shoulders, revealing a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her neck.
My next step falters. I’m glad we’re not still touching, because she’d feel my heart kick beneath my ribs.
Because I want her body.
But Christ, I might want her approval even more.