Lie (Betrothed 8)

“Working.”

“Is that all you ever do?”

“Pretty much.” He grabbed his beer and took a drink.

“And what are you doing at work?”

He looked out the window for a moment before he answered. “I’m working with Petrov’s men to turn it into a brothel. It’s been bumpy, but we’ll get there.”

“What happened to the girls?”

“I told you I let them go a week ago.”

“But what happened to them?”

He shrugged. “I gave them some clothes and money, and then they left.”

They probably returned to their friends and family, people who had been praying for their return every single day. “What else do you do?”

“Collect taxes. Resolve disputes. Shit like that.”

“Are you still taking money from my brother?”

He turned back to me and gave a nod. “He doesn’t get special treatment because of you.”

“Well, if you want to stop this feud, that would probably be a good first step…”

His plate was empty, so he crossed his arms on the table. “I’ve got you, so why would I care about that anymore?”

True. When I wouldn’t be with him, that seemed to be the only solution. But now that I’d given in, there was no incentive for him to treat Damien differently, especially when our relationship was only temporary.

“I got my results back.” Now, his gaze intensified as he stared at me, his thoughts moving to the true nature of our relationship.

“And?”

“What do you mean, and?” he said coldly. “Would I have brought it up unless my results were good?”

“I’m clean too.” I picked the last few good bites from my salad, the strawberries and the cheese, and then set down my fork. I was tired from the long performance, and I was ready to have sex and go to sleep. “So, you’ve never been in a relationship with anyone?”

He shook his head. “You?”

I shook my head. “The longest I’ve seen the same guy is…about a week.”

“Why is that? You could have anything you want from any man.”

And yet, I was in a strange relationship with this criminal. “I’m not settling down until I’m thirty, so I’m just trying to have as much fun as I can now. Whenever I tell people that, they think I’m weird, but when a man says it, it’s totally understandable.”

“Why thirty?” he asked.

“It’s when I’ve got to start popping out those babies.”

“Why can’t you be in a relationship with a man until you’re ready for kids? Isn’t that what people do?” He took a drink of his beer. “They fall in love and enjoy being together until they have to grow their family?”

I had my reasons, and I wouldn’t share them. “I guess I’m not looking to fall in love. I’m just looking for the right man to have a family with, a man who will be a good father and provide for us.”

He stared at me blankly for a few seconds. “Baby, that doesn’t make any sense. You aren’t telling me something.”

“Why are you asking me all these questions?” I asked defensively. “What’s your life like? Are you just hooking up with random women and never calling them back?” Once I asked hard questions, he would back off.

He pulled his beer closer to him. “In a nutshell. Sometimes I meet women and we hook up. But more often than not, I pay for sex.” He said it so nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a big deal at all.

Both of my eyebrows rose. “What?”

He read the unease on my face. “Whores. Not slaves, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

It was better, but not by much. “Why would a man like you need to pay for sex? Look at you.”

“I don’t need to. I just like to.” He drank from his beer.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” he asked. “There’s no talking, no bullshit. You just pay for what you want, and you get it. I have a few regulars that I call whenever I’m in the mood.”

“Well…if you already have that, what are you doing with me?” I wasn’t a woman who would do anything he wanted, who would respond to commands, and I wasn’t a professional in pleasure. I was average, probably nothing compared to these women.

He seemed genuinely surprised by the question. “Look at you.” He echoed my own words back to me. “I’ve told you everything about me, so answer my question.”

“Whoa, hold on.” I raised my hand. “I’m gonna need to see that paperwork.”

“My word isn’t good enough?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, this was before I knew you slept with prostitutes.”

“Doesn’t change what my results say.” He grew more irritated. “This isn’t going to work unless you trust me. Do you trust me or not?”

“I…I don’t know you.” I wanted to be with him, but I realized we really didn’t know each other that well, and I’d never been in a monogamous relationship before.

It seemed like he might get up and storm out, but he stayed, as if he was controlling his own anger. “I’m not a complicated man. I speak my mind and mean what I say. I’m not with anyone else, and I don’t want to be. It’s just you and me.”