The man’s jaw ticked. “And your name is?—?”
“Not relevant right now,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Tell Vito I want my tool bag back. And he’s getting a whopper of a bill. I charge by the hour.”
“I bet you do,” the man retorted, his voice dipping into dangerous territory. “How much?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “How much for what?”
“How much do you charge per hour?”
“Two twenty-five,” she said without hesitation, doubling her normal price.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “I’ll triple it.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “Triple what?—?”
“Hell, I’ll pay you a flat fee. One hundred thousand.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
“One hundred?—?”
“Okay, five hundred.”
That did it. The fog in her brain thickened, descended like a San Francisco summer. She shook her head like a dog coming out of water. “Five hundred thousand? What are you—what are we talking about right now?”
“You,” he said, taking another step toward her. “One night. And me. Five hundred thousand.”
Dani stared at him like he’d grown an extra head, possibly a golden one.
“I—what? No. No. I’m not—noway!” she stammered, scrambling sideways along the railing, her boots thumping against her ribs. “This isn’t that kind of party. I don’t do that. I’m just?—”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, before moving lower. She backed away faster.
“You’re insane. You know that, right?”
He gave a half-shrug, as if that was a perfectly acceptable accusation.
Dani stared at the man as if he had just proposed they duel with chainsaws at dawn.
“Five hundred thousand dollars,” he repeated, his voice low, steady, and absurdly confident. “One night. You and me. Or do you want more?”
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Her brain, reeling from his absurd proposal, finally caught up and translated the fire in his eyes—it wasn’t fury, not even righteous male ego—it was something far more dangerous.
Heat.
Desire. Full, primal, rip-her-clothes-off-on-the-deck desire.
It hit her like a rogue wave. A wild rush of heat flushed through her core, stealing the breath right from her lungs.
And if there was going to be death, it would be from pleasure. She was sure of that now. Sweet, delicious pleasure that would leave her melted like chocolate in the sun.
Or his eyes. Yeah, definitely his eyes.
