“Wealth is meaningless without loved ones to spend it on.”
“I’ll have to take your word about the wealth. Though I am surprised you haven’t settled down then.”
“I hadn’t met the right woman.”
Hadn’t met? As in, he had now.
He’d told me he wanted to get something solidified, but that was a far cry from settled down and having kids. Lucía, Natalie, and Jess had gone on about Sevastyans falling at first sight. Could Dmitri truly think I was the one for him?
No, no. Russian was his first language; he’d probably mistaken the tense of the verb. Or I’d misheard him.
So why was he looking at me so keenly. . . ?
CHAPTER 16
As Dmitri and I talked over more wine and shared a decadent tiramisu, I discovered we did have a few things in common.
We liked some of the same art and books and even some of the same music. He didn’t laugh or smile, but he did have a sense of humor. “Perhaps you’ll be the one to make me appreciate eighties hits,” he’d said, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “My tutors failed at every turn.” Whenever he almost smiled, my body grew tingly.
Now that I was more in tune with his moods and expressions, we’d found a comfortable ebb and flow. But sometimes I would sense that social discomfort, as if he was out of practice conversing.
What a confusing, complicated man. Polished at times, but unpracticed at others. Gorgeous, yet oblivious to the babes sighing as they passed our cabana. Brilliant, but he couldn’t read people. . . .
When my phone started vibrating in my purse, I figured it was growing late and everyone wanted an update. “I should be getting home.”
He signaled for the check. “Tomorrow I am taking you on a trip. We will spend the week anywhere you want to go.”
After last night’s detour, I was back to step five: gradually making my desires known. “I have to work. As much as I’d like to, I can’t live in the Porsche you bought me.”
He grew very still as he said, “I want to take care of you.” In a way, he was pitching me too.
I playfully asked, “Dmitri, are you offering to be my sugar daddy?” In Sin City, the going rate was a bauble an orgasm.
He gazed at me as if he sensed a verbal trap. “I want . . . not to send you running from me again.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me.”
He sighed. “I have more money than I could possibly ever spend, but it brings me no enjoyment. Being with you does, and so I crave time with you. I resent your work for keeping me from what I want. Will you accept more from me?”
Holy shit! I’d never dreamed of a mark like this. The richest, hottest man I’d ever met was teed up for the kill. But my doubts flared again. The nicer he was to me, the harder this job felt. “Why don’t we slow things down a little?” said the con artist to the unbalanced billionaire.
He looked frustrated. “I’m spooking you.”
“You must be leaving Vegas soon.”
He seemed to be weighing his words. Finally he said, “Not without you.”
My jaw slackened.
“That was one of those things I shouldn’t have said aloud, isn’t it?”
Red flags waved all over the place. “This is going too fast.” I struggled for equilibrium.
“Compared to most other couples? Yes. But you and I are both aware of what’s happening.”
I sputtered, “Spell it out for me, big guy.”
“You are going to be mine,” he said. “Exclusively. You’re as good as already.”
I blew out a breath. “Exclusively.” I was supposed to manipulate him over the finish line. This was supposed to take all of my cunning and skill, and assistance from all kinds of rogues across the underbelly of Sin City.
Dmitri was offering himself up for the taking!
It must be a ploy of some kind. My eyes narrowed. Of course! “This is very convenient.” I glared at him.
He looked perplexed. “Now I definitely can’t read you.”
“You promise no sex, hinting about a relationship first. Then, coincidentally, you tell me you happen to want a relationship. Right now! Even though you’ve never had one before. Why, we could sleep with each other this very night!”
“You beautiful stubborn girl,” he said. “I’m not in this merely for sex. I swear to you I won’t fuck you until you are mine alone.” His eyes flashed. “Tonight, you will beg for me inside you, and somehow I will deny myself yet again.”
I studied his face. I could get this guy to marry me. But without a prenup?
It’d be the ultimate con on a billionaire mark. . . .
Back in the limo, he dragged me into his lap.
I wanted to curl into him and soak up his heat, but I needed to tantalize. “Why do you keep putting me in your lap?”
“Tell me you don’t fit me perfectly, and I will stop.” He started to harden beneath me.
“You said I’d beg for you tonight. You just assume we’ll be intimate?”
“With the way you eye-fucked me all through dinner?” I realized he was playing with me when a glint of humor shone in his eyes. “We’re not only going to be intimate. I’m going to show you how much you’ll enjoy bondage.”
Was I curious? Of course. But I didn’t think I was ready to give up all control. “I’m not sure.”
“You have a safe word,” he said, but his tone held a challenge, as if he dared me not to use it. “You’ll either say it, or you’ll surrender to me.”