She didn’t have the same kind of safety net.
What good would it do to hold everything to herself and ignore the gigantic opportunity to launch her career and make a life for herself just to spare some privileged white boy’s feelings?
Men like him never considered or cared about hers.
He could wipe away his crocodile tears with hundred-dollar bills.
So what if his sorrow seemed real—who cared if he felt betrayed?
You do, another voice said.
She ignored the voice but it came again when Jim smiled at her, green eyes twinkling, and warmth filled her again.
You care.
She had a hard time focusing on what he said next and had to force herself to rely on her ears and her brain retaining the information instead of fumbling with her phone to try to discreetly start recording.
If he noticed her pull out her phone, he could interpret it as disinterest—an intrusion—and she could lose him.
He’d probably apologize for disturbing her and turn away, maybe even find someone else to talk to.
Nope—she was going to be the one to hear it all—she had to be.
Stay focused, girl—remember every detail.
“It won’t be long before someone tracks me here, and I still haven’t figured out where to go,” his voice filtered in. “Of course, I could just hop in a cab and drive around, I guess, till I figure it out…”
“You could stay with me,” she blurted out.
“I...excuse me?”
“You said you needed somewhere to hide out for a bit, and I happen to have a place where you can stay for a while.”
She smiled wide—temptingly, she hoped.
She could get so much more out of him if she got him alone for a few more hours, down to the tiniest detail.
His brows furrowed though his face still looked pleasant. Amused, even.
“But you don’t know me from Adam.”
“There aren’t many people who are great at deception. Everything you’ve said to me rings true, and maybe I’m gullible, but I feel bad for you. Sure, I don’t really know you besides your name and who you are in a general sense, but my gut also says you’re not a serial killer, so I don’t mind letting you in my home for a bit—you’re not done unloading and I’m happy to be your ear until you get it all out. I really don’t mind—it’ll be nice to have company.”
Besides, I need time to let what you’ve told me so far sink in, discreetly take some notes, and prepare for the rest.
She could get him to relax, get her recorder set up, and have all the information she needed to have the story that could launch her career.
This was it—this was the thing that would set her up, possibly for life.
Fate brought her to this moment, and just like everyone thought, her entry into the journalism world would be easy as pie.
Oh my god—I can’t wait to tell Annie about this.
He was still frowning at her.
“Man, you really are a newbie here. Maybe I should be worried about you, so willingly letting a man you don’t know into your home. Maybe I should be concerned for myself—what plans do you have for me, Miss…?”
“Gibson.”
He offered her his hand, and for the first time, Maribel had second thoughts about letting this very handsome, very sexy man into her home as warmth flooded her again and her core pulsed to life.
Her cheeks felt hot, and her small hand liked the feel of his larger one enclosing it a bit too much.
What was she thinking?
It was so unbecoming of a lady like her to take a stranger home.
Um, it’s for the job, she reminded herself. Don’t get distracted. You’re the spider; you’re leading him to your web.
But somehow, the thought did not make her feel at ease.
She didn’t feel like the spider with all the power after all.
Chapter 4
Jim
Jim could hardly believe his luck.
The woman he couldn’t keep his eyes off of, the woman who surprised him by sitting next to him and letting him unload on her, watching him with sympathetic brown eyes—that woman who stirred him in ways he dared not explore at the moment was inviting him over to her apartment? To stay for a day, maybe two?
What the heck was she thinking?
Her accent gave her away long ago—she was obviously not from around here and hadn’t been here long; just a warm-hearted southern belle still way too trusting in the big city, street smarts not yet acquired.
Sure, people went home with a stranger from a bar or club all the time all around the country, but Maribel clearly hadn’t been hunting for man-meat.
And now, out of the goodness of her heart, she was offering a perfect stranger temporary sanctuary.
What do they call that? Southern hospitality?
He was warmed by the thought and endeared to her even more, but part of him was a bit upset with her.
How could she be so careless?
Sure, it was working out in his favor, but what if he had been some sort of predator? Not so decent?
Did decent men leave their fiancée at the altar? a nasty voice reminded him.
Well, perhaps ‘decent’ wasn’t quite the right word, but only he knew that he wouldn’t harm her—she had no way of being sure of that and yet...
“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll take you up on the offer.”
While he stayed with her, he would give her a quick lesson about the city; he’d repay her for her kindness with practical, possibly life-saving advice in exchange for her sympathetic ear and place of refuge.
The poor girl had no idea what she was getting into.
He felt protective of her; she was a sitting duck in New York.
And he’d try as hard as he could to protect her from himself, to keep his hands off of her and not scare her by letting on the thoughts and urges he was fighting to suppress—the curiosity about how her lips would feel against his, how her slim frame would feel pressed against his much larger one.
He definitely didn’t want to take advantage of her, despite his carnal curiosity.
Though he felt more than friendly toward her, he needed to continue to be decent and be a friend to her as she was being to him.
* * *
Once Maribel flipped on the light, he took a good look around the unit.
“Hm. Cozy,” he said, trying to keep his face neutral.
He couldn’t believe people actually lived in places this size.
Maribel’s eyes shot to him and he could tell she was trying to read what he really meant.
“I know it’s immensely smaller than you’re used to—smaller than what I’m
even used to, but real estate here is...different. Anyway, it’s just me for now, and I don’t really need much more than this while I get settled. Hopefully, once I secure a job…” She shook her head almost violently—as if trying to shake out the next few words. “Drink?” she said with a smile, definitively changing the subject.
He almost said no right away, but actually being in the small quiet space with the beautiful woman before him and her door closed behind him had activated a beast he needed to do everything in his power to tame.
A drink would help him relax before he started to frighten her with his restrained desire.
“What have you got?” he asked lightly.
She looked away briefly, looking embarrassed.
“Well, I haven’t had time to really stock up just yet, but I’ve got some orange juice, champagne…”
“Great! I feel weird about having champagne by itself since it seems so celebratory, and while I’m happy to have dodged a bullet tonight, I know a shitstorm’s around the corner, so let’s go with a mimosa.”
She smiled an especially radiant smile and something stirred within him again, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she turned to make his drink.
As he watched her pour, her eyes shot to his briefly, and he realized the intensity of his gaze had probably unnerved her.
He tore his eyes away and glanced around her apartment once more to help put her at ease.
He didn’t want her to suddenly change her mind and try to kick him out because she’d finally realized the error of her ways inviting a strong male specimen into her tiny home.
She’d already told him too much, she probably realized—she was all alone, far from home, with not a single friend nearby.
He’d be her friend; he’d assure her of it. She had nothing to worry about.
“So what made you travel all the way from Alabama to the Big Apple?”
“Oh, I had a job prospect I was pursuing that didn’t quite pan out, but I mainly felt ready to leave small-town life behind and see what else is out there in a general sort of way. I’ve always imagined living in a big city—since I was a little girl. Here’s your drink!”