Hundreds (Dollar Book 3) Page 6

  I cough-laughed, shock making my voice tight. “Excuse me?”

  “She’s yours.”

  “You’re—you’re giving me a boat?”

  “Not just any boat. A one-of-a-kind, custom-built super yacht.”

  “But—I can’t. They’re worth a fortune. I have no way to pay you back.”

  A calculating smile lifted his lips; his eyes alight with the trap I’d just walked into. “Remember how I said I’d set your worth. That you’d have to pay me back through any task I deemed necessary at any value I gave you?”

  I swallowed hard, taking a step back as he advanced on me. I did remember, but I didn’t want to give him any more power. He had enough already. He glowed with it. He rippled with it. Masculine power, master power, power designed to bewitch me and make me forget what I’d been and who I’d served.

  His raw energy made my knees buckle to kneel before him even when he’d told me to never do such a thing.

  What is he doing?

  “She’s yours, Pim. Your value just went up considerably. Therefore, you owe me more than you’ll ever repay. You’ll have to do what I say for the rest of the time we’re together. You’ll have to give me anything I ask. You’ll have to answer any question I deliver.”

  My heart grew teeth. “For the time we’re together?” How could he give me a yacht and bind me with it then turn our relationship into something I’d promised myself I’d never be again.

  Master and mistress.

  “And how long will that be?” Hot tears percolated like burned coffee. “How long must I answer your every request and obey your every command? How long must I remain a slave even if my owner and surroundings have changed?”

  Elder stilled, his eyes blacker than I’d ever seen. “You asked for this. I tried to free you, Pim. I opened the door and said goodbye, but you’re the one who fucking asked to stay.”

  I hated that he was right.

  He hadn’t pretended anything would change and made no promises. He’d been remorseful at taking me against my will. He’d been polite in brokering a deal for me to remain eating his food and living in his hospitality. But he’d never given me false pretences. He’d never hinted that he felt the same confounding, confusing things I did.

  He never gave me a sign he wants me the way I want him.

  “If this is the cost of my freedom, then the price is too high.” I stood tall even as my spine threatened to hunch beneath the weight of his stare. “I won’t name the yacht as I won’t accept it. It’s yours.”

  “Wrong. It’s Alrik’s.” Elder slowly removed his hands from his pockets, inspecting his fingernails as if we weren’t discussing my life or eternal servitude to him. “Alrik paid for this beauty just like he paid for you. His name is on the contract just like his name is on your memories.” He looked up, his eyes catching mine and wrapping me in a noose. With a jerk of his jaw, he strangled me as if I hung on the gallows. “He paid for you, and he didn’t deserve you. You lived with him for years. You put up with his shit, and you survived his abuse, and goddammit if that isn’t the only payment required.”

  I froze. “What—what are you saying?”

  My head hurt from how he’d twisted the conversation. How he’d left me in the rapids while he’d returned to open sea, calm and deep and still. “You don’t owe me a penny for her, Pim.” He sighed, dispelling the truths he’d delivered by masking them as lies. “No debts. No requirements. This yacht was yours the moment you were stolen.”

  His footsteps imprinted on my heart as he moved closer and cupped my cheek. “It’s only fair you inherit what Alrik left behind. You deserve everything for what he put you through. It’s not enough. Not nearly enough for what he did. But she’s yours.”

  I backed away, shaking my head, hating how his fingertips seared a brand upon my skin. “I don’t want anything to do with him. Money or otherwise.”

  “I understand that, but this yacht is yours. He never saw it. He had no input in the design—that was all me.” He came closer, our eyes latching onto each other’s lips. “It’s not from him. It’s from me. It was always meant to be yours. Don’t you see?”

  I sucked in a breath. “But if you give me this, then I still have the issue of repaying you. Despite what you said about it not coming with clauses or conditions.” My heart quickened. “I’m willing to give you parts of me for rescuing and protecting me. I never expected anything for free. I need to pay you back—if only to prove I have self-worth.”

  I hated how my voice wobbled; how it quivered with anger as well as frustration. “I have nothing of value, yet you make me valuable. Don’t you see? Don’t you understand how sick this makes me? How much I don’t want to accept this because—”

  His mouth crashed against mine, shutting me up with a fierce kiss.

  I stood locked in place, shell-shocked, quick-kissed, and entirely ensnared by him.

  He stole every thought.

  Pop.

  He massacred every argument.

  Dead.

  He melted my ice with the magical feeling of his mouth on mine, his breath with mine, his tongue against mine.

  I moaned as he tore past my lips.

  A month ago, I would’ve curled into myself and hid.

  Today, I reached for him and gave in.

  But the moment I touched him, the sudden attack was over.

  He backed away, running a hand through his hair with a disbelieving scowl on his face. “Sorry.”

  I pressed my bruised mouth with shaking fingertips. “Don’t be.”

  “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “It’s fine.”

  He bared his teeth. “It’s not fine. I slipped. I never slip.” He prowled away; his hand still clutched in his blue-black strands. “Fuck.”

  I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood there. I didn’t think it would be sensible to mention he’d slipped the other night too. He’d slipped until he’d slipped inside me.

  “Sir?” Elder’s staff manager reappeared, glancing between us, understanding something wasn’t quite right but interrupting anyway. “The design team are gathered. If you’re ready?”

  Elder groaned. “Christ, I forgot.” Looking up, he somehow managed to hide away the argument, the kiss, and the intensity from before, once again becoming impenetrable. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Great.” Charlton nodded, smiled at me, then moved out of hearing distance.

  Elder stormed toward me, his arms ramrods by his sides as if he was under strict instructions not to reach for, touch, or manhandle me in any way. “I have to go.”

  My belly warmed at the annoyance in his eyes. Annoyance I liked to think was caused by his unwillingness to leave me. “Okay.”

  “I won’t be long.”

  I nodded.

  “You’re free to wander around and explore. Learn how your new yacht is built. I’ll come find you when I’m through.”

  “It’s not my yacht.”

  “It is.” He held up a hand when I went to argue. “Nothing more to say on the subject.”

  “But—”

  His eyes shadowed. “But nothing. It’s yours. Figure out a name. If you try to fight me again, you’ll lose.” His voice slipped into a threat as he stepped closer. “Is that what you want, Pim? To pick a fight with me and lose?” He licked his lips. “Because with the way I’m feeling, we wouldn’t fight for long before I lost control and hurt you again.”

  The image of him forcing himself on me didn’t send as many rescue flares off as I thought. He’d entered me, but he hadn’t fucked me. If someone had that much willpower—to be inside a woman and not move or seek a release—then threats like the one he’d just given weren’t nearly as scary because he’d already revealed he had morals he refused to break.

  He hung his head, his shoulders weary under immense pressure. “Look, I’m sorry for kissing you. I took advantage again. It won’t happen a third time.”

  My voice that’d been silent now blurted with no
censorship. “You didn’t—”

  His eyes snapped to mine.

  I withered beneath his stare, swallowing before continuing. “You didn’t take advantage. I—” I didn’t have the courage to talk about feelings and strange desires, but I had to force myself if I stood any chance at claiming normalness. “I like kissing you.”

  My cheeks impersonated a burning building as Elder made a weird grunt as if he’d been told everything he believed was a lie.

  Once again that signature awkwardness we seemed to dance around returned—a nasty third wheel. He moved toward me slowly, stiffly, keeping his body under strict control. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Pim.”

  I sucked in a breath at the blazing desire on his face.

  “You should’ve left when you had the chance.”

  I turned soft while he glittered hard. I turned meek while he glared power.

  I turned breathless. “The moment you found me, I didn’t stand a chance.”

  His lips turned down, his eyes becoming sad. “I hate that that’s true. For both of us.”

  We stared without words until he murmured, “Do you remember the pickpocketing lesson? How I taught you to creep up and steal my wallet?”

  Did I remember? Of course, I remembered. How could I forget the thrill at being so close to him—of inserting my hand against his ass and pinching his money? How could I forget the joy of playing with him?

  “I remember.”

  “Good.”

  I didn’t like the gleam in his gaze.

  “Put what you learned into practice. Steal me something of value and bring it to me. You don’t want to accept this yacht? Don’t want to accept what’s rightfully yours? Well, too bad. You still owe me for other things, so consider this task the first instalment.”

  “Instalment for what?” I cocked my head, schooling myself not to stare at how regal he looked. How sharp jawbones and elegant cheekbones made him so handsome but so untouchable.

  “Instalment for your room and board, of course.” He gave a half smile, even though it shimmered with challenge rather than amusement. “Hunt my staff, Pimlico. Patrol my warehouse. Pick your victim. Steal something for me before I finish my meeting. Otherwise, I’ll make the task a lot harder.”

  “I don’t steal.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, yes you do.” He leaned forward, his cheek brushing mine as he murmured, “I should know. You’ve stolen more from me than anyone.”

  My blood turned into confectionary, making me shiver from a sugar rush knowing, in some small measure, that I had gotten to him the way he’d gotten to me. “I have?”

  What did I steal?

  Tell me.

  He nodded. “I hate it.”

  “Why?”

  “If you’re lucky, you’ll never find out.” He pressed a swift kiss to my cheek then pulled away. “If you’re unlucky, you’ll learn why and then all this will seem so trivial.”

  “Trivial? How?”

  “You and your damn questions.” He scowled. “You know? I almost miss your silence.”

  Was that a compliment or a complaint?

  Before I could figure it out, Elder commanded, “Steal something, Pim. Show me you can steal from others and not just from me. You have two hours.”

  He left before I could refuse.

  Chapter Nine

  ______________________________

  Elder

  I COULDN’T CONCENTRATE.

  During the entire meeting, all I could think about was Pim.

  About that kiss.

  About that fight.

  About every little thing about her.

  Her hair.

  Her smell.

  Her body.

  Her smile, for Christ’s sake.

  I hated it.

  I hated that she’d not only stolen my thoughts and infected them with all things her but she’d also stolen my willpower; my never ceasing authority over the one thing that I could never win.

  Charlton passed around another folder with the next four projects in the works that would take the design team almost a year to render, scale, and create exclusive naval creations.

  I ought to be focused on mathematical equations, price approximates, and building overheads. But all I could think about was how pissed off I was that Pim had refused her gift.

  That yacht out there was hers.

  It had always been hers.

  The moment it was completed, I’d hand her the keys, drop it into the bay, and it was up to her to do whatever she damn well liked. She didn’t want it? Fine. It could float anchorless around the ocean with no purpose or home—just like her.

  My hands balled.

  Just like her.

  She had no purpose or home.

  Just like me.

  Wait, I did have a purpose—a long-standing promise to do to those what had been done to me. And my home was the Phantom.

  But you can never go back to your real home, can you?

  I shut that thought up immediately.

  I had enough on my mind with Pim let alone the past making an appearance.

  While the rest of the staff shot ideas about wood blends and chandelier styles, I subtly rearranged three pencils on my notepad.

  Three horizontal.

  Three vertical.

  Three into a triangle.

  Three pressed together.

  Three far apart.

  Always three.

  While I kept my hands busy, my thoughts deliberated over whether she’d obey me. Would she steal for me? Or would her nerves prevent her?

  Selix reached out and stole the three pencils, giving me a curt look.

  I wanted to pummel him for taking them, but with gritted teeth, I nodded in acknowledgment. He knew what it meant when I started twitching. He knew as well as I did that I needed a joint and to be back on the open seas where society pressure, peer expectation, and every nasty memory couldn’t find me.

  Checking my watch, I suffocated my groan to find only an hour had gone by. A long, interminable hour.

  Having Selix’s presence beside me was the watchdog I needed to keep myself in check. He wasn’t there for protection but to be the barometer to see how far I could fall before I couldn’t climb back up.

  However, with him here, it meant Pim was out there…on her own.

  She could leave.

  She should leave.

  I’d given her that freedom deliberately.

  I’d wanted to send her home, and she’d refused. Alone down there, faceless and free, she’d have every opportunity to walk out the front door and never return.

  I wouldn’t know which way she’d gone.

  I’d never be able to find her.

  It fucking hurt to think I might never see her again, while at the same time, relief tried to claw inside. I wanted her gone but didn’t. I wanted her close but feared it.

  I was a goddamn mess.

  Charlton droned on about monthly projections, shipments of walnut and marble, and housekeeping of the warehouse.

  I forced myself to pay attention. To give my chaotic brain something to latch onto.

  Facts and figures slowly replaced slaves and slow romances, drawing me back into a world I could conquer and control.

  Chapter Ten

  ______________________________

  Pim

  WHAT THE HELL can I steal?

  For the past hour, I’d pondered and explored the giant warehouse. I’d picked up tools and contemplated hiding them in my underwearless dress. I’d lost track of my task and stood for long minutes, entranced by a worker sanding a long length of timber or shadowing another carrying paint cans.

  Some even offered me to join them at their station and peer over their shoulder while they performed their expert tasks. One wielded a heat gun with utmost precision. Another carried a clipboard, inspecting flaws where I only saw perfection.

  I almost forgot about Elder and his request as I sank deeper into the world of yacht building.

  B
eing surrounded by people was a new challenge for me. Being ignored by most of them was a welcome change. I was just another face in a sea of artists tasked with bringing life to something made of wood and steel.

  They didn’t care if I stopped to stare. They didn’t shout if I picked up a chisel or screwdriver. To them, I wasn’t important—their job was—and I was free to wander, touch, and watch.

  The freedom in that was liberating. To brush shoulders with a man as he carried blueprints with a pencil between his teeth and not cringe at being touched. To return a distracted smile from a man hanging in a harness to nail a panel into place and not fear making eye contact.

  I was part of them while still singular, and eventually, the novelty became the norm and I returned to my pickpocketing task. The only problem was, I had no elastic to hold things secret or bras to cradle things that didn’t belong.

  I had my loose dress, my hair, and my hands. Not exactly great stealing attire.

  Not for the first time, I glanced at the closed door where Elder and Selix had disappeared. Windows on either side were barricaded by blinds, drawn to keep the meeting hidden.

  I was tempted to sit on one of the large canvas piles and just watch the controlled mayhem around me rather than try to steal. But whenever I drifted toward the idea of refusing Elder’s request, the guilt that followed made me continue my search.

  He’d tried to give me a yacht.

  That yacht.

  I shook my head in awe at the behemoth in front of me.

  Why?

  Didn’t he know how uncomfortable that made me? Not because of the extra debt I would incur, but the fact I’d never owned something so expensive before? It almost felt as if he thought he could buy back my self-confidence and somehow delete the past two years.

  As if a million-dollar gift would fix me.

  It won’t.

  He was fixing me just by giving me a life. Taking me to work with him. Letting me travel with him. Those gifts were priceless and so much better treasured than a boat I didn’t know how to steer, had no crew to manage, and no income to afford the fuel and upkeep.