“Your phone is ringing, Princess.” He chuckled.
“Huh?” Mesmerized by the man, it took a moment to register his words. I bit my lip, hiding my disappointment when he leaned away and pulled his hand back. “Ru,” I answered, still looking at the gorgeous man next to me. Completely hypnotized by the slide of his throat as he drank his whiskey before his tongue snaked over his lip. My tongue unconsciously mimicked the slow lick he stroked along his bottom lip. Oh. God. I wondered what it would feel like to have that pink wetness slide down my neck, around my hard nipples, teasing and tasting me. Would it be rough or smooth? When he caught my stare, one dark brow rose, the electric heat in his eyes sparked a flame through my body. His eyes widened slightly as I shivered, and a small smile teased his mouth.
“Sianna?” Ruvash called out.
I shifted my gaze to the counter, cleared my throat, and focused on my cousin. “Hi.”
“Hey, sweetie, I’m running late, but the good news is that the guys are happy to have you stay with us.”
I pulled in a deep breath, raking a hand through my hair. “Thank you. How long can I stay? You know—” I dropped my voice an octave. “With the job situation.”
My cousin laughed. “As long as you want. “You can take over the cooking duties.”
“You sure you want me in the kitchen. Food poisoning can be a serious complication,” I teased. If anything, I was a good cook. It was something I enjoyed doing with my father. I lost my mother at the age of six, and my father used the kitchen as a buffer to grow our relationship.
“Nonsense.” Ruvash scolded, his tone playful. “You can cook us a nice prawn dish.”
“You do recall I’m allergic to seafood, right?”
“So? I said cook, not eat.” My cousin chuckled. “Anyway, our stuff is being transported tomorrow. Are you packed?”
“Well, thanks to Shrek’s twin, my belongings have been stuffed into every nook and cranny of my car. Whether I can fit behind the wheel is another story.”
“Shrek’s twin?” He hooted.
I grinned. “Yeah, I’ll explain later.”
Ruvash choked on his laughter. “I’ll be another twenty or so minutes, then I’ll come to fetch you, and we can go straight to the new place. Okay?”
“Sure.”
“Tootles.”
“Thanks again, Ru, Love you.”
“Love you three.”
When the call disconnected, I stared at the counter then reached for one of the tequila shots. The sudden firm hand over mine surprised me, and I inhaled against the warm touch.
Prince pushed the bottled water toward me. “Drink that. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
Smiling, I unscrewed the cap and took a couple of swigs. “Thank you.”
He picked up his second glass of whiskey, took a sip, and turned to face me. “You’re moving out of the area?”
“Not by choice.” The words came out harsher than I intended.
“You don’t want to move?”
I turned to look at the man studying me with avid interest and returned the smile. “Well, anything is better than living with my aunt, but cramping other people’s quarters wasn’t on the cards. My aunt owned a house on a block that developers are planning to turn into a mall. It’s considered prime property due to its size, and they paid her a price she couldn’t refuse. No one in their right mind would, but that meant putting me out on the street. Unfortunately to her, it was no biggie because she has the money, and I don’t.” I lifted my shoulders in a light shrug before dejection forced it back down. I took a slow drink from the bottle, letting the cold water slide down my throat as though appeasing my irritation.
“Did she not discuss it with you?”
Slowly, I shook my head. “Why would she? It’s her house, I was just the maid—” I slapped a hand to my mouth and glanced away, unsure why I was telling a stranger my life’s story. “The good thing is I have a place to stay now.”
He remained silent for a long while before setting his glass on the counter. “If someone had to ask you what you wanted right now, what would you say?”
“Honestly.” I toyed with the label on the bottle. “To get behind the wheel of a car I don’t have, drive on a road I don’t know until it takes me where it wants to go and follow a plan that requires no thought.”
“What if someone can make that happen.”
I looked at him, a deep frown creasing my brow. “What do you mean?”
His gaze roamed my face, penetrative, yet there was nothing lewd about the gesture. It was as if he were trying to find the right words before he spoke. “I have a proposal for you.”
“I’m not sleeping with you if that’s what you’re asking,” the words spilled out unchecked, immediately reddening my cheeks. Had I not had copious amounts of liquor in my system, that statement would’ve been far less straightlaced.
Still, his soft laughter spiked the small hairs at the back of my nape. “Would you like to hear it?”
“Would I like it?”
A languid smile teased the corner of his mouth. “You might.”
Even though I resisted the urge to say yes, curiosity got the better of me. “Okay. Tell me.”
“Do you believe there are limits to what money can buy?”
“Yes,” came my quick reply.
“Like what?”
Intrigued by his curious gaze, I shrugged. “People, I suppose.”
He eyed me for a moment, his countenance thoughtful. “Are you saying that people can’t be bought? Given all the fraud—”
“That’s not what I meant,” I interjected.
“What did you mean then?”
“Well, you can buy people, but all you’re getting in return is their agreement to honor a deal. There’s no thought, no emotion—”
“Are you saying money doesn’t make people happy?”
I uttered a caustic laugh. “Of course, it does, but what are you getting in return. There’s a big difference between being rich and happy and rich and content.”
The odd look he gave me had me wondering what went on behind those intelligent grays. “I’m sure with the right person, there could be feelings, emotion, correct?”
I got a strange notion that the conversation we’d started had somehow changed. Still, I was curious why a man like him would even be seen with a woman like me. He was much older, obviously smarter, and, judging by the expensive navy suit and crisp white shirt, rich. Yet, I got the distinct impression he lacked something.
“What would make you happy right now, though?” his soft question pulled me out of my musings.
I stared at the counter for a moment, tracing the intricate designs of the marble top. What would make me happy? The million-dollar question I asked myself every day—with the same resolute answer. Family. The sense of belonging. Love. “Two hundred thousand dollars,” I laughed out instead. When I looked up, there was no return laughter or smile. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was just something appealing about the way he looked at me. If I didn’t know better, I could say it was care, affection—the type an ardent lover would lavish on the woman he adored—only, I was a stranger to him, someone he’d helped, thrice.