Shark (Wall Street Beasts 1)

“You don’t have to go to bed,” he relented. “But you do need to keep your distance. If you keep tempting me, there will be no undoing what happens. Sex with me won’t be pedestrian and safe. It will destroy you.”

“Well, now I’m intrigued.”

“Does a sign by a river saying WARNING: CROCODILES intrigue you? You are in danger, Sophie. I don’t know how to phrase it any other way.”

“I don’t think I am,” she said, arching her hips and presenting herself all too provocatively. “I think you saved me from a fate that might have been worse than death. And I think you know I owe you for it. So why are we pretending that we’re not going to fuck?”

“Sophie!” he snapped her name sternly. “Some decorum, please.”

Why did he do that? Why did he talk to her like she was barely a woman? He was twice her age at least, but she was a woman. She was twenty-four years old. Hardly a baby. There were women her age married with multiple children, so to have Alex speak to her as if she were a child…

She turned and walked away, more out of hurt than obedience. He was distancing himself from her. Taking pity on her. He no doubt had female partners older and more experienced than her, sinuous sophisticates who could cater to his tastes.

Chapter 13

Sophie did as she was told. She went back to bed. On any other day, and in any other context, lying in bed on a gorgeous island would be a dream vacation. This was such a beautiful place, but she could not enjoy it because of the misery which suffused her entirely.

Her life as she had known it was over. If she was caught, she would be sent to the USA to face charges and then she would likely never see the moon again. Prison seemed all the more barbaric now she was forced to consider the possibility she might end up in a cell.

She’d watched a documentary once where inmates talked to one another through the toilets. The idea of being reduced to such desperate circumstances frightened her deeply. Yesterday, she had been on the fast track to success. Today, it was all gone, and she was in the custody of a stern ex-marine who had no patience for her, or interest in her.

He knew she was upset, but some pain was unavoidable. Alex needed a few hours to himself in order to finish putting some pieces of the plan in place. Sophie would not be hurt by crying herself to sleep in a perfectly safe room on a perfectly safe island stronghold.

It had been a long night, and Alex had not slept at all. Christo had made a complete mess at Apex, and Alex’s responsibilities had not ceased just because he was on the other side of the world. Most of the night had been spent on calls with various players, putting out fires and shoring up alliances.

At least if Sophie was in bed, he knew where she was. She needed the rest anyway. All of the stress and trauma of losing her life without actually dying would catch up with her sooner or later. It would be better if she was at least rested.

As for her adorably clumsy attempt at seduction, he found it endearing. She was not the sort of woman who spent a lot of time trying to sleep with men. To be fair, most women weren’t. There was a thin sliver of the female population who were sybaritic and sensual, who knew how to wield sexuality like a weapon. Some of them were escorts, others actresses, but still others were something far more dangerous: wives.

Alex was developing a plan for Sophie. It had been clear from the moment he took her that she was going to have to disappear forever, but there was no way she could sit on his island forever. At the very least, it would be a waste of a perfectly good woman.

He had decided that she would have to transform. She would have to leave her businesslike veneer aside and become someone else. To stay herself would mean always being in danger. As long as Christo knew that she was out there, he would have her looked for. Christo seemed like an idiot most of the time, but he knew how to do the important things. He had learned the lessons of his ancestors, and one of those lessons was: leave no loose ends.

“Maria, would you rouse Sophie for lunch?”

Maria inclined her head and glided off to do as she was told. Neither one of the Marias liked to speak unless it was absolutely necessary.

Sophie sat at the table with her hands folded in her lap. She was wearing an oversized sweater that bordered on frumpy, but was probably more kindly referred to as comfortable, and probably belonged to Maria.