Grievous (Wanted Men #5) - Nancy Haviland Page 0,55
did grow up in back alleys, didn’t you?”
That had her grinding to a halt. “Excuse me?”
He looked down at her. “Hunts Point. Correct? Just now, you spoke freely. When you do that, your roots come through.”
When she told someone where she grew up, she always said the Bronx. She never specified which neighborhood because of the judgment that inevitably came with it. He knew. Lucian knew she’d played in abandoned cars and empty lots filled with garbage. Had he gotten details? Did he know she and her friends used to run errands for the local pimps? If they ran to the store for smokes? They walked away with a dollar they didn’t have before. If they got soaked in the rain running to the KFC on the corner? They’d get a chicken leg as payment.
She was standing in his fucking castle, wearing an outfit that would cover a couple of months rent for any of the families she’d passed through, and Lucian knew exactly where she’d come from.
She felt stripped. More naked than she’d been when she’d straddled him with not a stitch of clothing on her person. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her ribs. “You dug into my past?” There was an edge to her voice that would have had Miranda doing her stupid grab-the-fake-popcorn-and-settle-in-to-watch-the-show.
“I dig into everyone’s past.”
“Congratulations. You’re invasive and awful. So?” She tossed her head back when she felt the urge to bow it and try to hide. “What did you find out? You know, if you wanted to know me, you could have asked. I would have told you. You didn’t have to go behind my back and find out a bunch of shit that probably isn’t even true.”
His eyes narrowed as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He moved back until he was casually leaning on the wall. “I found out about Miranda Neilson and Eric Halston. I know you went to NYU with Kristen Sheppard and have remained friends even though she now lives in Paris. Why do you not have more friends?”
None of your fucking business. “Because I only need the ones I have. They’re perfect. Know why? Because they’d never think to invade my privacy the way you have.” Her fury over that was growing by the second. She hated people knowing her. She hated when they knew where she came from. She hated that she didn’t fucking know where she came from! “They’re friends who wouldn’t have drugged me and carted me to the other side of the world. They wouldn’t ever make me feel as if all I am to them is a cum dump. They wouldn’t ignore me as a person because they’re having a hard time dealing with their grief over the loss of a loved one. They wouldn’t invade my privacy!”
“Do Eric’s friends often come sniffing around? Have many of them tried to claim you?”
She stared at him as her chest rose and fell, her heart beating so fast it was a throb in her neck. She searched his face for any sign of regret. She found none. “Don’t you care at all that your behavior affects me in a way that is far from positive?”
“I have brought you on an expense-free vacation to Romania. You are staying at Fier Fortress, a castle whose construction began in 1647 and is filled with art you will wet your silky panties over once you look beyond your out-of-joint nose. I am willing to give you anything you request to make your stay as enjoyable as possible. I will feed you only the best foods, allow you to drink only the finest of wines, and I will pleasure you until your exquisite body cannot sustain one more climax before it breaks completely. I am giving you this without asking for a thing in return but a smile, some sporadic casual conversation, and free access. Explain to me what is far from positive about what I just outlined, Yasmeen?”
As he’d listed what he evidently considered perks, her anger seeped away. That was how he saw this? A paid vacation with good eats and occasional orgasms? Tears burned the back of her throat. As a person, she meant absolutely nothing to him. She could be anyone. He’d stipulated “sporadic, casual conversation” because he didn’t want to be bothered with anything more. Why? Because there was no interest. He may have chosen her, but he didn’t want her. He didn’t care that she was upset. She