Glamour: Contemporary Fairytale Retellings

He wound a finger in my hair, his head cocked to the side, those dark eyes ablaze. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve only started.”

I swallowed around the attraction, trying to find footing beneath his striking severity.

He stepped back, giving me space. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

Hesitation warred with the want that tumbled through my belly. “I have work to do. I need to get to the office.”

“I think this will be well worth your time.”

Doubt hovered in the air between us before he reached out and tugged at my hand as he took another step backward. “Come on, Lil’ Redd. There’s no need to be afraid.”

A scowl climbed to my brow, though somehow a tease slid out with the words. “Really…I think I already bear the proof that you bite.”

He laughed. Straight belly laughed. Confusion twisted through my spirit, an inkling of something I didn’t quite understand—something sweet and hopeful—before he tugged me closer, his mouth at my temple. “Do you know how much I like you, Lily Pad?”

I blinked into his shirt, wondering how it was possible that I was starting to like him, too. “You don’t even know me.”

“Oh, I think I know you well enough, don’t you?” He pulled back to shoot me a wink before he was threading his fingers through mine and leading me to the car parked at the curb in front of my house. “Come.”

And I had no idea if it was distrust or excitement that flapped in my belly when I let him lead me to his car.

Ten minutes later, Broderick made a left in his rented Audi. The realization of where we were going injected a dose of anxiety into my system, and I leaned forward in my seat, my voice riddled with doubt. “Why are you bringing me here?”

My gaze traveled the line of old buildings that sat like a beacon. A harbor. My safe haven.

He slowed when he came to the shabby three-story building that housed Tindall’s Thimbles. Easing up next to the curb, he put the car in park but left the engine idling.

He shifted in his seat to face me. “Because I want you to understand my goals. My vision. I want you to know why Addelaine Tindall signed those papers.”

Unease stirred through my senses. Along with a shot of hope. I met his gaze. Fully and without restraint. “Tell me.”

I watched the thick bob of his throat, his voice hoarse. “I am not the bad guy, Lillith. Evil might run through my veins, my blood my father’s, but I have fought his brand of corrupt morals my entire life. I’m not here to ruin people’s lives. I’m here to make them better. And if stamping my father’s name on a project makes me the bad guy, too, then so be it. I love winning, Lillith. I won’t lie. But my wins are on my own merit, and they are always, always fair.”

I shook my head. I wanted to believe him, but all my reservations warned me to remember exactly who I was dealing with. “But you pushed this purchase without concern for Mrs. Tindall. Just like the rest of the buildings your company acquired.”

A scowl marred his face. “How could you say without concern? Every financial offer I’ve made has far surpassed the current value of any of these holdings.”

Frustration bubbled inside of me. “But that’s it, right there. There is no dollar value that can compensate for memories. For heritage.”

His gaze slid to the plate glass of Addelaine’s store. “Is that what you’re trying to protect, Lillith? Your memories? Is all of this about you?”

Somehow, the words that fell from his mouth were as soft as they were sharp.

As if there was a chance he might understand and he was accusing me of an agenda at the same time.

Old wounds flared. I attempted to stuff them down where they belonged. Apparently, I didn’t succeed because my voice cracked as I pressed my palm over my heart. “I’m fighting for the woman who gave me everything. I’m fighting for her legacy. I’m fighting for her family and her friends and all the people who have stories like hers.”

His arm suddenly shot out, his hand fisting in my hair, his tone emphatic. “What if financial compensation is the only thing I have to offer them? What if it’s the only thing I can do to save what they’ve created? The only way I can help preserve what they’ve made of themselves?”

My heart thrummed in the confines of my chest, my eyes darting across his face, desperate to read the truth in his expression. “What are you saying?”

He grimaced. “I’m saying my father has already made his decision. This street will bear the Wolfe name. Our hotel will stand here, in this spot, one way or another. His way or my way. And I promise you, my way is best.”

Awareness settled over me, like a rock sinking to the pit of my stomach.

His thumb brushed over my cheek. “Addelaine signed that contract because when I went to see her, I asked her what she wanted. I asked her what she believed was fair in this situation. She felt the purchase offer was more than fair, and additionally, she asked for six months to find a new location before the sale closed. I agreed, and she signed. She and I? We made a deal. There was no coercion.”

Regret twisted through my consciousness.

Had I pegged him wrong all along?

“Then why isn’t that six month promise in the contract?”

“Because my father is pushing for a closed deal. I give that to him, and he moves on to his next acquisition. It’s an easy distraction.”

I wanted to believe it. In him.

A wry grin pulled at his mouth as his gaze traveled to the storefront. “She’s an incredible woman. Smart. But she’s also flexible.” He moved his other hand to my face, framing both sides when he looked back at me. “And that’s what I’m asking you to be. Flexible.”

There was no missing the innuendo behind it.

God, he had me tied up in knots. Because there I was with butterflies in my stomach and a blush on my face. The man made me vulnerable in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to be in so many years.

Broderick Wolfe brought out the best and the worst in me.

“What do you want from me?” I finally whispered.

His hands tightened. “First…I want you to say you trust me and to drop that silly application to make the building a historic monument. You and I both know it won’t stick.”

Fire glinted in his dark, dark gaze. “Then, I want to take you back to my suite so I can fuck you again, and then from there, you and I can see where this goes.”

“Where this goes?” It came off as incredulous.

“Yeah, Ms. Redd. We’ll see where it goes. I loved the taste I got last night. Something tells me I won’t ever get enough.”

My spirit lurched. Reaching toward something that should be impossible. Because I was supposed to hate him.

He smiled that magnetic smile.

And I realized that was what terrified me the most about him.

I didn’t hate him at all.

“And you’ll give Mrs. Tindall six months?”

“Six months.”

“Promise me this isn’t some kind of trick.” A plea slipped into my tone because I’d opened myself to him in a way that gave him the complete upper hand, every advantage in his corner.

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