The Banker (Banker 1)

What a wrong assumption that was. “Coincidence.”

“Really?” He cocked his head slightly, his blue eyes taking me in aggressively. His wide shoulders looked broad in the cotton on his shirt, and the veins on his forearms moved all the way up to his biceps. “If you don’t want my balls and this really is a coincidence, then I should never see you again.” He rose to his feet and pushed the chair back at the same time. He walked off, turning his back on me and walking down the sidewalk. His ass looked snug in his jeans, and all the women in my vicinity noticed the exact same thing.

There was no mistaking the subtle threat in his tone. He let me off the hook because his formidable power was enough to chase anyone away. Unless I acted like I wanted to fuck him, he wanted nothing to do with me. If I had an ulterior motive, then I should stay the hell away from him.

But there was a problem with that.

I couldn’t stay away—not if I wanted my father to live.

4

Siena

I’d disliked Cato through my observations, but after our short conversation, I liked him even less. He was exactly what I assumed he would be—an arrogant son of a bitch. There was no need to feel guilty for my intentions of handing him over to Micah, not when he was that much of an ass.

So cocky, Jesus Christ.

I wanted to call the whole thing off because I didn’t want to deal with him, but when I remembered that my father’s life depended on me, I realized giving up wasn’t an option. Besides, I didn’t want Damien to rape me either. This was the best way out of this mess—for my father and me.

It looked like sleeping with Cato was my only option.

I didn’t want to do it, regardless of how hot he was. He was an arrogant douchebag, and that wasn’t sexy to me. I liked a sexy man as much as the next woman, but I needed other qualities too—like humility.

But I wasn’t given the luxury of choice in the matter.

I returned to his favorite club a few nights later, this time intending to be noticed. There were no further observations I could make in these conditions. I’d failed to uncover new information, other than the fact that he was the most arrogant man on the planet.

But I didn’t know how to use that to my advantage.

I wore one of my older cocktail dresses that I’d stashed away in my closet. I wore it to a special dinner my father had hosted, and there had been five hundred people there to celebrate his newly designed cigar. The dress was black and backless, hugging my body right above my ass. The halter top front was skintight and outlined the shape of my tits and my flat stomach. It was short, even shorter in the sky-high heels I wore. Up until this point, I’d never dressed to impress, but now I had to step up my game. Diamonds were in my ears, and my hair was pinned into an elegant updo so my bare back was more noticeable.

I hoped Cato would take the bait.

I assumed he would notice me whether he was impressed or not, simply because I’d seen him at that bakery just days ago.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

I would get on my back to achieve my goals.

If only there were another way.

An hour later, Cato and another man walked inside. Both dressed in jeans and t-shirts, they ignored the collared shirt dress code and helped themselves to the leather couches in their favorite area. The man with Cato hadn’t accompanied him last time, but his striking blue eyes and solid build told me they were related.

Probably brothers.

The waitress waited on them instantly, and then their groupies arrived. All beautiful and tall, they filled the empty spaces on the couch and rubbed their palms against his thighs. Like last time, kisses were shared.

His brother was getting the same level of action.

I rolled my eyes so hard it actually hurt my head a little. “Pigs.”

Fifteen minutes later, Cato’s attention on his fans started to wane. His eyes scanned the bar, like he wasn’t entirely happy with his catch for the day and was looking for something else. It only took a few seconds for his eyes to land on me.

Then we stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

He didn’t show a hint of surprise. He didn’t seem angry. Instead, he just seemed intense, his unblinking eyes focused on me like a target. His arms were around the two women that were still lavishing him with affection, but his eyes were reserved for me.

I looked away first, not in admission of defeat, but indifference. I picked up my scotch and took a drink. There was no way in hell I would walk over there and start a conversation with those women clawing his thighs. My only option was to get him alone—and that meant he had to join me.