Dirty Boss (Dirty Rich 2)

"You're smart."

I open my mouth to object—Blake doesn't know anything about my intellect—but he's already on to his next point.

"You're beautiful."

My cheeks flush. "Thank you."

"You have terms."

I nod.

"What are they? What exactly do you want?"

Chapter Four

You have terms. What are they? What exactly do you want?

It's a complicated question.

For the last three years, I've been surviving. I haven't let myself want anything more than a roof over my head and three hot meals a day.

It's overwhelming, opening myself up to possibilities.

I press my palm against the window. It's cold. Sleek. Unbending. "What would we even be doing?"

His hand brushes my shoulders. Then my cheek. He tilts my chin so we're eye to eye. "I'll introduce you to everyone as my girlfriend. We'll get engaged. Then we'll have a quick wedding. You'll be on my arm at dinners, for weekend trips, at some family functions."

"How am I supposed to convince people I'm in love with you? I don't even know what that looks like."

"Look into my eyes."

I do.

"Like you love me."

Okay… I try to imagine a guy I'll love one day. A real husband. Him hanging my art on the walls, much to my embarrassment. Taking me up to the top of the Empire State Building on my birthday. Kissing me under the cherry blossom trees.

"Perfect."

It is? I'm just thinking… but I'm not going to talk myself out of a huge chunk of change. Still— "I don't want to lie to anyone, much less everyone."

His eyes are on fire. "My intentions are good."

"That and three dollars will buy you a cup of coffee."

"You have integrity."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"What do you think?"

I don't know. He's intense. Hard to read. Appealing.

I finish my last drop of gin and tonic then unbutton my coat. Blake slides it off my shoulders and takes it into his arms.

He leads me back to his office and hangs it on his door.

The space seems smaller.

He's too close.

But then, I want him closer.

I want his body pressed against mine.

"Why do you need me?" I might be talking him out of this, but I have to know. "Why not find some girl who wants to be your girlfriend?"

"That wouldn't be fair."

"Because…"

"She'd have expectations." He slides his suit jacket off his shoulders. "I don't fall in love. I never have, and I never will."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-six."

"And you're already sure you'll never fall in love?"

"Yes."

Okay… I guess I'm not going to argue with him. He knows what he wants. I know what I want. And that doesn't include falling for an emotionally unavailable rich guy.

He takes my glass and pours another round of drinks.

I sit on the plush couch and watch him roll his sleeves to his elbows. His forearms are so fucking sexy. How can forearms make me this hot?

I take a deep breath.

Blake moves back to the couch. He hands over my drink and sits next to me. "What are your terms?"

God, it's so hot next to him. My body is buzzing. It's begging me to strip out of this dress and slide into his lap.

But that's lust.

I can survive six months of lust.

Hell, I really, really want six months of lust.

"The mortgage to my apartment." I take a deep breath, attempting my best I'm as badass and confident as any tech executive voice. "I want it paid in full."

"Done." He says it like he's agreeing to coffee.

"You don't even know how much is left on it. What if it's three hundred thousand dollars? Or half a million?"

"Send me the bank information, and it's done."

"Like that?"

He nods. "What else?"

I struggle to form a coherent thought. The mortgage, done, like it's nothing.

That can't be possible. That payment has been a thorn in my side for the last three years and it will be gone. Done.

"My sister got into NYU. She's worked hard to keep her grades up. She deserves to go to whatever school she chooses without six figures of student loans."

"Elizabeth?"

"Lizzy. You…"

"She's your friend on Facebook. I didn't look you up, Kat. Not beyond the normal search."

I'm not sure we agree about what constitutes a normal search. But it's not like I can talk.

"Sterling Tech selects scholarship students every year. She placed in a math competition last year. Is she studying STEM?"

"You don't know?"

"Not yet."

I nod. "Computer science or programming. I forget the difference. She wants to study artificial intelligence."

"Done."

"What?"

"We'll offer your sister a scholarship. A hundred percent of her tuition anywhere."

What? I… I must be hearing things. "You…"

"I can make it official right now."

"No, that's okay…" A hundred percent of her tuition. Covered. "What if I say no?"

"You won't." His hand brushes mine. It sends heat racing through my body. "Is there anything else?"

No. That's all I want. It's all I've wanted— Lizzy taken care of.

But I can't admit that. Not when I can get more.

"I… I want to go to college too."

Blake nods. "You'll sign a prenup. When we divorce, you'll get a million dollars, less what's left on your mortgage."

"A million dollars?" I… Uh…

"Kat. You okay?"

No. This… this is absurd. I stare back at Blake. "A million dollars?"

He nods.

"But… why?"

"I told you. I need someone and I want you."

But… uh…

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

Blake is worth a lot. A million dollars is nothing t

o him. Not compared to the price tag of a regular divorce.

This is what makes sense for him.

It's logical.

It's actually reasonable.

His fingers brush my wrist. "You can stay at your place for now, but I'll need you to move in soon."

"No. I'm staying with my sister."

"Fine. You'll stay with her until we marry."

I nod. I'd rather stay with Lizzy forever, but it wouldn't look right.

"I'll pay your expenses. Starting tonight."

"That isn't necessary."

"Kat. You're my girlfriend now. We're madly in love. Do you really think I'd force my girlfriend to fend for herself?"

"Yeah. It's called independence. You have heard of feminism?"

He chuckles. "You have heard of my charity?"

"No. That's a douchey thing to say."

"It's for domestic violence victims."

"Oh. That's… less douchey." And unexpected.

"It's okay. I know how I appear."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Most people's opinions don't matter to me."

"So then why are you—"

"Some people's do." He stares back into my eyes. "I'll send over a credit card tomorrow. Treat yourself. Buy whatever you'll need to feel comfortable."

"I'm comfortable." I'm not exactly sleeping on Egyptian cotton and dining on steak, but I am comfortable enough.

"You're a beautiful girl, Kat. I want to tear off that dress. But there are people in my life who aren't nearly so…"

"They're judgmental assholes?"

He half-smiles. "Exactly."

"And you keep them in your life because?"

"Because they have other traits I value. You're more than welcome to show up to an event in jeans and a t-shirt. She…" He shakes his head. "But you'll get looks. If you don't want that kind of attention—"

"I get it." All his rich friends look down on the poor H&M shoppers. I guess I can do a little shopping spree if it's for keeping up appearances. I could certainly use new clothes. I haven't bought much since the accident.

His fingers brush the hem of my dress. "I'm never going to love you, Kat. But while we're together, I'll make sure you don't want for anything."

"What about… it's not like I can have a secret boyfriend on the side," I say.

"You want to fuck me."

"Yes." My cheeks flush. "Not necessarily today. But eventually."

"This part is real." He leans a little closer. His hands slide over the sides of my chest. Over my shoulders. "But you need to understand something, Kat."