Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,9
in the business of trampling kind, hardworking people to advance his own profits. Didn’t he care to talk about what happened with the building he’d presumably acquired? Didn’t he care to discuss how it was possible that she held a deed to the same building?
“You didn’t think I was evil last night,” Drake said plainly. “Yet the moment you find out who I am, you have no problem insulting me. I’m sorry about lying to you last night, but I thought you’d act differently if I told you who I really was.”
“Damn Skippy.”
“Is that a yes?”
She groaned. Was lack of humor a requisite on the Wilder Financial application? “If I’d known you were my boss, I would’ve been a completely different person. I wouldn’t have finished off that bottle of wine, I wouldn’t have let myself get so tipsy, and I sure as hell wouldn’t have kissed you.”
His brow furrowed as he seemed to toss over her words. “Tell me, if you think I’m so evil and hate my name so much, why are you working in a building with my name on it?”
This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for.
Emelia wanted him to hear her out as she told him about how she’d bought the Knight Owl from her neighbor eight years ago. She wanted to tell him to stick his “legal” plot map in his pipe and smoke it. She’d given years of her life maintaining the Knight Owl and had struggled to keep the bar true to its historically famous roots. She wasn’t about to give it up to Wilder Financial so they could demolish the building and turn it into another stale coffee joint.
But as Emelia stared into Drake’s warm, mocha-toned eyes, she caught sight of the man from last night. The man who showed her that passion wasn’t something that developed over time, or something you had to work at to achieve. True, skin-searing passion was something you either had, or you didn’t.
With Drake, she had it.
“Things are changing in my bar, and I’m struggling to catch up,” she said, offering a smidgeon of truth. “Profits are low, expenses are high, and I needed other income. My temp company placed me here.”
“But you’ve hated working here so far?”
Emelia nodded slowly.
“I see.”
Maybe if she worked as Mr. Wilder’s secretary for a week, they would build a mutual respect. When he realized there were hearts behind the businesses he was shutting down, maybe he would be more inclined to listen and understand what she’d been saying all along.
She’d purchased the Knight Owl free and clear.
It wasn’t her fault that her neighbor took off with the money and then claimed to have sold the entire building to Wilder Financial. The least Mr. Wilder could do was look over her documents and let her keep the bar that was rightly hers to begin with. She didn’t know how much he paid for the building, or how he’d get his money back, but it would have to play out that way, wouldn’t it?
Drake took a long sip of his coffee, set down the glossed mug, and stared out onto Seattle’s cityscape. Rain misted over the windows, blocking out any particular shapes of buildings in the distance. The entire city was one big blur.
“And I’m an evil businessman.” Drake’s voice was hoarse. Barley a whisper. “Isn’t that what you called me?”
When their eyes met, Emelia caught a glimpse of what looked like pain. Remorse? Sadness? Damn it, there went the pang in her stomach.
“I didn’t say you were evil. Not exactly. I said lying to me was evil.”
“I don’t think this should be drawn out any longer.” He stood, reaching out his hand.
She felt her face puzzle. “What shouldn’t be drawn out?”
“Good day, Ms. Hudson.”
Emelia eyed Drake’s hand carefully, staving off the feeling that she was being baited for something. Shaking his hand was simple, a temporary peace offering. But touching him could unleash the same feelings as last night—she couldn’t walk straight for two hours after his lips had touched hers.
“Good day.” She curled her fingers around his hand. The instant they touched, electric currents of something hot and palpable sparked over her skin, jump-starting her heart. She jerked back. “Whoa. Must be static electricity.”
“Yeah.” His eyes shadowed over and he rubbed his hand. “Must be.”
Chapter Four
It’d been five days since Drake touched Emelia skin to skin, palm to palm. Five days since he realized that she was, unequivocally, his Luminary. He’d wrapped up business and bailed, taken his