Dollars (Dollar #2)

Our connection made no sense. We’d never talked. We’d shared a single kiss and a string of profound relapses in judgment.

She blistered my mind with a new curse—taking my previous obsession for perfection and twisting it, so every breath and heartbeat increased this stupid crush to delusional proportions.

I knew I was being ridiculous.

I just didn’t have the cure to stop it.

I’m Pim-sick and it’s not a good illness to have.

We didn’t move as Simo crossed the park and slid into a black limousine. His driver pulled away in a thunder of expensive horsepower.

Selix asked, “Are you ready to return?”

I glanced around the park—at the dappled sunshine on the short dry grass and the rustling thirsty trees. I could stay a while in a place like this, but Pim was jumpy, and I meant what I said about giving her a reward.

I’d caused her jumpiness.

I could erase it if I ignored my own dilemma and focused on her.

Unable to glance at Pim, in case I backed her against a tree and gave the world a big fuck you by molesting her in public, I muttered, “Not yet. Lunch is in order.”

Pim shifted beside me, no doubt wondering if I had another business meeting.

Gritting my teeth, I turned to her, focusing on how skinny she was and how it was my job to feed her. Lunch was about nutrition, that was all. It wasn’t a date or had any romantic connotations. The moment she’d eaten, I’d escort her back to the yacht and take my medicine, so I could ignore my one-tracked brain.

Her eyes kissed mine, content to let me rule for once with no competition.

Maybe today she would finally talk.

If she’s forgiven me, of course.

She hadn’t been impressed with my pickpocketing skills yesterday. My lips curled at how easy stealing that wallet had been. It had taken no thought at all. If I was honest, I missed the rush, the power. What would she say if she knew all of this—my life, my wealth, my company—came down to a single robbery that’d changed my world forever?

Would she understand why I kept what I stole? Or would she hate me for being so fucking selfish?

Not that it mattered. Whatever she’d felt for me when we’d almost kissed was drowned out by her strong barometer of right and wrong.

“I heard of a good restaurant half an hour from here,” Selix said. “If that sounds of interest, I’ll look up directions.”

“By foot or car?”

Selix frowned. “Car, of course.” His lips curled a little as if walking was for paupers, not businessmen.

Pim shuffled, the smoky grey dress hanging off her with no sexuality, which somehow only amplified hers. Her pretty face half-hidden by a sash of dark brown hair.

“I’m in the mood to walk again.” I pushed off, not looking back to see if Pim followed. “Leave the car. We’ll send a crew member to collect it. You’ll come with us.”

It went without saying after the Chinese tour group incident and potential fight over the returned wallet, it was prudent to have Selix close by in case I did anything else idiotic.

“Of course.” Selix fell into step with me. “Do you wish to dine alone? I can return the girl and escort you once she’s safe?”

She’s not going anywhere without me. Pim would eat with me whether she wanted to or not. But just like yesterday, I would give her the illusion of choice and see how she fared.

“If she wants to join me, let her.” I turned to face her with a deliberate cold smile. “After all, it’s her life and decision.”

She scowled as the grey dress licked around her legs. Her skin already pink from the sun.

It seemed she’d already made her choice as she stepped forward with her chin high and gold sandals glinting in preparation for a hike. Michaels had warned me last night that making her do too much exercise could ruin her current healing.

I shouldn’t have brought her. I did the opposite of the right thing.

But I wouldn’t send her away.

Not today.

I gave her a curt nod, and we all moved forward in uniform—a perfect triangle of travel. Me at the apex with Selix on my left and Pim on my right a few steps behind. Talking wasn’t on my agenda and neither was it on Pim’s. I’d thrown on a linen shirt this morning with black slacks, and already sweat stuck the material to my skin. I pitied Selix in his black suit walking in this intense heat, but that was why his salary was so damn good.

I paid for his discomfort and pain to keep me safe.

Leaving the park and entering the busy streets of Morocco, Pim’s tiny feet barely made a sound on the gravelled walkway. This time, we were on the other side of town where undisciplined children and the occasional squawking chicken congested the roads. Despite the lack of resident wealth, high-fashion glass-fronted stores glittered for tourists—two worlds so far apart but sandwiched together so tightly.

Like Pim and me?

I didn’t know the answer because I didn’t know if Pim came from money or poverty.

Yet another question to add to the pyramid of all the others.