A Dom is Forever (Masters and Mercenaries #3)(12)

She shook her head. “I’ll keep trying. Eventually perhaps they’ll forgive me.” Probably not, but she wasn’t going to ask her boss to intervene. He had enough to deal with on his own.

Thomas winked at her. He looked a little older than his thirty-nine years, as though pain had started to wear him down. He was an attractive man, but the tightness around his eyes always made her wonder how he managed the daily pain. His upper body was fit and strong, but his lower body seemed thin under his slacks. She’d never actually seen his legs. Even on the hottest days, he wore heavy slacks. He kept them completely hidden. She could understand that. She remembered how it felt to not be able to use her own legs. “If anyone can work that miracle, it’s you, Avery. You understand they have nothing to forgive you for. You’re trying to do good in the world. I admire you greatly for it.”

But her in-laws would never understand why she’d done what she did. “Thank you.” It was time to change the subject to something happier. “Apparently this Lachlan Bates person wants to do good in the world, too. To the tune of two million dollars.”

Thomas’s brown eyes widened. “Two million. That’s a nice round sum. Who is this guy? I’ve never heard of him.”

“No idea. Do you want me to work up a dossier on him?” Thomas liked to know where his money was coming from. He’d turned down a few large donations in the past because he didn’t like his fund to be used for political capital. She glanced down at the notes Simon had given her. “And it’s not exactly a round sum. The donation is for two million, one hundred and fifty thousand, five hundred and three. What an odd amount. Do you think it’s a percentage thing?”

Sometimes religious donors gave a percentage of their income.

Thomas stopped, put down his tablet and reached out for the folder. “That is odd, but not utterly out of the ordinary. It is likely a percentage for his religious beliefs or more likely for his taxes, depending on where he actually lives. I’ll take care of this, dear. Don’t worry about it. I need you completely focused on the Black and White Ball. It’s only a few weeks away.”

It was their biggest European fund-raiser of the year. It was precisely why they were in London. She was organizing a huge event. Her palms sweated a little just thinking about it. She wasn’t elegant. She wasn’t even very social. What was she doing planning a party for a thousand European socialites?

“Calm down.” Thomas touched her cheek. He was very affectionate with her. He was always encouraging and supporting her. He’d become something of a father figure. “You’re going to be fine. You’re just coordinating. The caterers and designers have impeccable tastes. Follow their lead, but don’t be afraid to let them know what you want. All right?”

“Yes, sir. As a matter of fact, I need to go down and talk to the florists. I want to make sure we corner the market in London for white tulips. The event planner tells me they’re all the rage right now. Of course the event planner isn’t trying to stay in budget.” The event planner was a lovely man named Sascha who spoke with a thick New York accent and favored neon tuxedo coats. She’d been worried at first, but his style was refined and elegant outside of his personal wardrobe choices.

She stood, grabbing her bag. It was a bright day outside, one of few. She really wanted to walk in the sunshine, not be cooped up in the office. “Are you sure you don’t need anything? I could put this off.”

He shook his head. “Not at all, dear. Go. Enjoy the afternoon. You are instructed to not come back to this office until at least Monday morning.” He picked up the tablet, nestling it against the Lachlan Bates file. He started to shuffle toward his office. “And we’re only here a few more weeks. If you don’t get through the British Museum, you won’t get to see the Tower or the National Gallery or tour Churchill’s war offices. We won’t be back in London for a while. I wouldn’t want you to miss a thing. And the Eye. Make sure you take a little trip. View’s spectacular. Go on now.”

She caught him, giving him an impulsive hug. He seemed surprised for a moment. His arm wound around her, hugging her tight. “You’re too good to me, Thomas.”

He pulled away. “No. The world has been unkind. I’m exactly what you deserve. Now go and have fun.”

She winked at him as she made her way into the glorious London afternoon.





Thomas Molina stood by the window doing what he loved to do most in the world—watch Avery’s ass sway as she walked. There was a sweetly sexy gait to her walk that got his cock hard every time she walked in a room.

So sweet. So innocent. So f*cking na?ve, but he intended to use that innocence to his advantage.

Patience. She required patience. She’d touched him on her own for the first time today. She wrapped her arms around him, and her breasts had brushed his chest. He’d hugged her before, but she’d initiated the affection this time.

What he wouldn’t do to be able to slam her on his desk and shove his cock deep. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman. She was rapidly becoming his obsession.

She disappeared around the corner. It was for the best since if he did haul her into his arms and toss her on the desk, it might give away his game.

When he was sure his office door was locked, he shut the blinds and let the cane dangle from the side of his desk. Fucking cane. Fucking wheelchair. He didn’t need either one, but Thomas Molina’s disabilities came in handy from time to time. Too bad the poor old boy was in the ground thanks in part to his own dear brother who had seen a good opportunity when it offered to bankroll his partying ways.