Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(20)

There was more than respect on their faces. There was fear.

Who was Marcus Ubeli besides the man who was turning her life upside down? Did she want to know? Or, a more disturbing question—did it matter to her, as long as in private she got to see the man beneath the mask?

She was tense-slash-giddy for the entire ride home. Sharo drove them and when a window closed between the driver and the back seat, she was sure that Marcus would kiss her again. He didn’t, though. He put an arm around her and played with her hair absently during the ride home. It was silent other than the Rachmaninoff that echoed throughout the car.

She frowned when the car stopped after only a short ten-minute drive and Sharo got out and opened her door.

Marcus pulled away from her and she looked at him in confusion. “We aren’t to the Crown yet, are we?” It had taken over half an hour to get from the hotel to the venue for the fashion show earlier today. Granted there had been traffic but surely they hadn’t covered all that distance so quickly, had they?

She looked out the window and no, the historic hotel was nowhere in sight.

“I’ve arranged an apartment for you,” Marcus said.

She swung around in her seat to look at him, her mouth dropping open. The penthouse at the Crown was one thing. He apparently always had that on reserve but another apartment? For her?

“Marcus, I can’t—”

“You can,” he put a hand to the small of her back to urge her out of the car, “and you will. Think of it as house-sitting. My secretary is on an extended vacation in Europe for the summer. You’ll be a help if you stay here. You can water the plants.”

But when Cora got upstairs, she didn’t find any plants. What she did find was a luxurious, fully furnished three-bedroom apartment with a fabulous view of the park.

“This is incredible.” She padded through the huge rooms. Her feet sank into the thick carpet. Marcus stalked behind her, hands in his pockets, a half smile slanted on his stunning face.

Cora stopped at a fireplace, running a nervous hand over the marble molding. An apartment like this, in this part of town, had to cost tens of thousands of dollars a month. She felt small in the overwhelming luxury.

“It’s too much. I can’t—” Her voice died when she met Marcus’s intent gaze. He’d given her so much already.

“You can and you will. Stay here. Stay safe.” He looked like he might say more, but the front door opened. A few moments later Sharo appeared. He nodded to her and handed Marcus an envelope.

Marcus opened it and glanced inside. His smile turned shark-like, satisfied. “One more thing, angel.” He held out the envelope. Her hand trembled as she took it.

Inside were bills. Crisp greenbacks packed into the white envelope. The number on the bill made her knees wobble. “What’s this?”

“Your pay. You told me your former employer owed you.”

“They did but…” Her fingers fumbled through the thick bundle. She did a quick count. “This is too much, it’s way more—”

“They weren’t paying you enough. Sharo had a little talk with them, and they saw the error of their ways.”

Clutching the sheaf of money, more money than she’d ever seen, much less held in her hands, her senses swam.

“A talk with them?” The big man regarded her impassively. From what she knew of Sharo, he wasn’t much of a talker. Did that mean—?

“You didn’t—” She stopped herself before she said, “hurt them.” She couldn’t very well ask if he’d beaten Paul up, could she? “They’re okay?”

Sharo raised his chin. “They send their apologies. Wanted you to know they’re getting marriage counseling. Cutting back hours at work, spending more time with their son.”

“Oh. Good.” Sharo did talk to them. Or, at least, they talked to him. Told him all that, and paid out well over her earnings in crisp one hundred dollar bills. She stared at the money in her hand as if it was a snake.

“See, angel?” Marcus murmured. “They won’t bother you again.”

Sharo was gone and it was just the two of them. He stepped closer and her world narrowed to his frame, tall and imposing, devastating in a dark suit. Her senses filled with his nearness, the five o’clock shadow edging his jaw, his delicious cologne. Her uncertainty disappeared. “You wanna thank me?”

“Thank you,” she breathed, drunk on his nearness. Deep down, a little voice whispered a warning, but the rest of her was too far gone. Her heart fluttered in her chest, wild but happy. Happily trapped.

“No, baby,” Marcus stopped, so close if she stepped forward, her nipples would brush his suit again. The tiny alarm bell abruptly cut off. “I meant, do you really wanna thank me?”

“Yes?”

“Then stay here. Live in this apartment. Enjoy it. And have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow,” she whispered. His dark hair fell over his brow, softening the hard planes of his face. She swayed.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered back. And he backed up, breaking her trance. She hoped he’d stay, but he only gave her that damnable half-smile and said, “Goodnight, goddess.”

She was left so desperately wanting as he withdrew and closed the front door behind him. After it clicked shut, she slumped against it and lifted her hands to her lips, to her face, through her hair.