Renée gave a sigh. I knew her pride didn’t want to accept the gesture, but she needed the cash. I was pretty sure she was still picking up jobs from our boss, Leo, and I didn’t want to think about what she had to do to make a buck. If I could ease that burden a little, I sure as heck was doing it.
“Thanks, babe,” she finally conceded. “Meanwhile, not to kill the buzz, but any news from…you know?” she asked cautiously.
I glanced up at the glass partition between me and Horatio, knowing he couldn’t hear me, but lowering my voice regardless. “Emilio’s okay. I managed to hold Razortip off with a part payment,” I said. “But I know I’m going to have to face that, eventually.”
“Does Prince know?”
My heart beat faster just thinking about it. “No.”
“Don’t you think you should tell him?”
“I…” She was right. Of course she was right. “I will.”
“You know it’ll be better coming from you, right?” Her words were gentle yet firm.
“I will, Ren,” I sighed. “I’m just looking for the right time.” When on earth would I find the right time to tell my billionaire fiancé that my brother was a drug runner, being held hostage by a Mexican gangster? A gangster who wanted a million dollars from me.
Well, $900,000 now.
Never. There was never going to be a good time to raise that. As it was, I had a world of secrets just bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to emerge.
Why did life have to be so complicated?
“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” Renée was saying.
“Will do, Ren,” I replied, and rubbed my eyes as she ended the call.
The limo pulled up to the entrance to the apartment building, and Horatio got the door for me.
“Can I take your bags, Miz Sasha?” his rough, rumbling voice broke into my thoughts, and I shook myself into the present. Prince had decided that Horatio would be my permanent chaperone, and I was glad. I liked the gruff honesty of his presence. I also liked the fact that there’d be a buffer between me and anyone else who might decide to rattle me again. Obviously, Angelique was at the top of that list.
We hadn’t spoken about it again after I’d told Prince what had happened. A part of me wished that we had. A part of me wanted him to tell me that she wasn’t important to him. That I’d taken that part of his heart.
Perhaps it was too early for that. But still…
Horatio led the way to the entrance to the block, several black shopping bags in one meaty hand as he held open the door for me. For the first time since I’d moved in, my modeling class had ended in the late afternoon, and I knew I’d be coming home to find Prince waiting for me. It was a strange feeling, and I’d added to it by stopping in for a small shopping expedition on the way home. I’d been given my own credit card when our “arrangement” had first begun, and today was the first day I’d actually used it.
“I’ll be okay from here, Horatio,” I said as we reached the door. He nodded, handed me my bags, and touched the brim of his hat.
“See you tomorrow, Miz Sasha,” he replied.
I brushed his arm and smiled. “Thanks, Horatio. Have a good evening.”
His footsteps echoed away from me as I pushed the front door open. The scent of cooking met me, and I paused.
“Prince?” I called, strangely moved by the sensation of walking in to what had become my home, to be met by my fiancé cooking us a meal. It seemed domesticated in a way I’d never imagined.
“In the kitchen,” he replied. I turned the corner and stopped short at the sight of him heading toward me with a wineglass. He was buck naked aside from a black apron around his waist.
“Oh, my!” I snorted. Laughter bubbled out.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he said as I took the glass. He turned and flashed me a tantalizing view of the best butt in town.
“Smells good.” I inhaled appreciatively. “Whatcha making?”
“Nouilles dans le fromage fondu avec sauce mornay,” he replied, opening the oven door and checking the contents.
“Wow, sounds fancy,” I said. “What’s in it?”
