I bite my lip as he watches me, something warm heating his gaze.
“Yes. I mean, most of it. Some I used to help Mum and Dad. And I invested a little in a rocket scheme. But that was in exchange for children from the charity that helped out family to be invited to see the engines being built. They’ll love it,” I gush.
“I’m sure.” His eyes crinkle at the corners.
“I’m a terrible businesswoman. It’s why I’ve only ever hired short-term help on occasion. I like to do everything myself because that means my overheads are lower and the charity can have more.”
I press my fingertips to my lips and try not to laugh at the way Sterling's looking at me.
“What?”
He shakes his head and loosens his bow tie.
“You’re perfect as you are.”
Heat fizzes in my stomach at his words and I can tell he understands why I do it.
“Creating more love in the world is my legacy to Jenny. Doing it makes me happy. Makes me feel like I’m carrying a part of her with me.”
His eyes soften. He has a way of looking at you and making you feel like you’re the most important person in the world.
That there’s no place he’d rather be than in your company.
“Besides. What would I do with the money? Buy a mansion? Shoes?” I scoff. “I learned a long time ago that those things mean nothing on their own.”
“You’re wise beyond your years. Some people have their whole life to learn that lesson, and they still miss the class,” he says with admiration.
“It’s why I can never fail,” I confess, my throat tightening. “I need to succeed, to maintain my reputation so I can keep donating. I can’t let them down.”
“You could never let anyone down, Hallie,” Sterling says softly.
We hold each other’s eyes, the air crackling between us, filling the interior of the limousine with something that’s so electrically charged it could ignite at any moment, like a sky full of fireworks.
Our driver clears his throat. “There’s an accident ahead, Mr. Beaufort. We could be here awhile.”
Sterling surveys the gridlocked street ahead.
“I see.”
He appears deep in thought as he checks his watch.
“My club is two blocks away.”
“You’re suggesting a nightcap on a Thursday?”
He chuckles at the teasing look I throw at him.
“Only a quick one. You can use your excruciatingly difficult client as an excuse to leave early.”
I shrug. “Naturally. What’s the alternative? Spending all night together?”
The second the words leave my mouth, I clamp it shut. He clears his throat, his eyes darkening.
It was a joke, of course. But one that’s highly inappropriate of me to make. Not to mention, completely out of character.
He’s my client.
“I, um…” I frown as my phone rings in my bag. I pull it out, the light of the screen bright inside the dim backseat.
