I stood up and took a step back. Adrian looked momentarily stunned, maybe even hurt. I drew in a breath. I was a journalist seeking information, and I had definitely gotten some.
But I had definitely also gotten way, way more than I bargained for. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he was charming. Yes, I was getting deep into a game that could have all winners… but it could also have all losers. I was risking everything for seeing where the thrill of the chase for the truth went, and if there was one thing more important than the truth, it was not losing my ethics in the process.
“I apologize,” I said, dusting myself off, even though I had nothing on me, “but I will need to go to transcribe what has been discussed.”
“You know there are programs for that now, right?”
“Yes, but it’s a chance for me to reflect as I transcribe,” I replied. “Adrian, I thank you for your time and your vulnerability.”
Adrian folded his arms.
“There’s absolutely no rush to leave, you know,” he said. “You are more than welcome to take a break. Grab some water, use the bathroom. Hell, take a shot of something if you’d like. I have liquor here, though I should warn you, it hasn’t been used that often.”
That would be delightful. Blame it on the alcohol. Get drunk, see where the night goes.
Right to his bed.
I literally shook my head, trying to get these crazed thoughts out of my head. Foolish! Stupid! Throwing away my career because of one good source… and for what ultimately amounted to what? A media relations war between two absurdly wealthy families who would be fine and rich no matter who won?
“As kind of you as that is, I will be going,” I said. “I will reach out to you for another interview when needed. In the meantime, I ask you to respect my time and allow me to work.”
“Of course,” Adrian said, bowing dramatically. “Of all the people, I most certainly know the value of working time. Don’t let me be the one to distract you from your job.”
Naturally, Adrian couldn’t let the last sentence be said without a knowing grin. I nodded to him, turned, and walked away as quickly as I could without looking like I was hurrying the hell out.
But as soon as I knew I was out of sight, I booked it out of theRubycasino as rapidly as possible. I needed to get into a more professional environment to clear my head and remind me of why I was there.
And yet, even as I walked through the ding-ding-ding of the casino floor, even as I hurried through the silence of the parking lot, even as I turned on the car and put on my favorite tunes…
Thoughts of Adrian would not disappear. Thoughts of his presence, his touch, his words…
Adrian was right in one regard. I was entering a world I was not ready for. I might have been more prepared than most, but that didn’t mean I was ultimately ready.
I could only hope that, like every other time before, I would learn to adapt and comport myself as needed.
CHAPTER 9
Adrian
Cute.
Really, the whole thing was just so fucking cute.
I had to admit, Delilah had me on my heels more than I had anticipated. I had not expected her to get so personal about the King of Diamonds question… and I had not expected that I would say so much. For fuck’s sake, I actually talked to a journalist about Virgil! It didn’t matter that Sarah was a close friend of said journalist; I had spilled the beans on a very private matter to a very public person.
But as I always did, I got my feet underneath me.
And once that happened, I went on the offensive. I pressed. I forced Delilah to come at my beck and bow to my whims. And by the end, I got even further than I thought I would.
I actually didn’t think she’d stick around once I went around my desk. That was an assertive move, but maybe pride or stubbornness on her part would not allow her to leave. Her decision, my win. I went for the touch.
I swore for a split second in there that she was going to let me fuck her. Her eyes almost shut in the way a woman’s do when she wants her only sense to be my touch. I wasthis fucking closeto making it happen.
But then she regained herself.
Most men, in that moment, would have panicked. At the very least, most men would not have the patience to let the woman process the moment. What if she walked away? What if she never came back?
What if?
