Wishing Well(5)

“Dirty Girl? Are you serious right now?” Ire coated her voice, her eyes narrowing into slits as her mouth pulled into a line to match her fury. “Take off, jerk. I’m not into whatever it is you’re offering.”

Grinning despite her growing rage, I crouched in front of her, bringing my eyes level to her twisted expression. “How about a warm, dry place to sleep -“

“In your bed, I’m assuming. No thanks,” she interrupted, kicking her foot out as if to knock me over. I caught her ankle easily, giving it a firm squeeze with my fingers until she yelped and pulled away. I regretted having to cause pain, but a man like me would only tolerate so much before losing his patience.

Fear widened her eyes. “You hurt me!”

“I did,” I responded, my amusement fading as frustration took hold. “Only because you so rudely interrupted. Had you not accused me of taking you home to fuck you, I could have finished my sentence. I’m offering you room and board, as well as a job.” Reaching out, I traced my finger along the smudge of dirt on her cheek. “When’s the last time you’ve met a shower?”

Flinching in response to the curt tone of my voice, Dirty Girl glared again, her fear lost to the rain that slashed against us. “When’s the last time you met a person who gave a damn about your opinion or anything you have to offer?”

“Just this morning, actually.” A quick grin and I raised my voice to be heard over the pounding rain. “You can take my offer or leave it. But I’m not waiting out in this storm for you to answer. If you want a decent job, and to get out of this alley, you can follow me. Otherwise, Bonne soirée . Perhaps the rain can clean the filth from your body.”

Standing, I refused to look back at the uncouth girl huddled over herself in a pathetic effort to keep dry. She’d accept the offer. She had no reason not to, she just needed to convince herself that she was tougher than she appeared. I’d made it a block without glancing back, was about to turn a corner when a small voice called out to me from behind. The wind almost snatched the sound away from me, but I’d caught enough to peek at her from over my shoulder, to stand tall in a downpour that had chased the residents of the city from the streets.

Holding my hand to my ear, I yelled back. “What was that? You’ll need to come closer so I can hear you. We’re in the middle of a storm if you haven’t noticed.”

The corner of my mouth quirked. Thunder rolled overhead that threatened to shake the buildings from their foundations. She shuffled her feet, unsure whether to approach.

Smart girl. If I were her, I’d turn and run from a man like me. But money is always the ultimate lure.

Finally taking measured steps forward, she tilted her chin, crossing her arms over her soaked chest. “What’s the catch?” she yelled over the pouring rain.

You are, ma trésor…

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I answered, stepping toward her, heel to toe, so slowly as if she would fly off should I move too quickly. “My offer is as I said. A job and a warm place to sleep.”

Consternation wrinkled her brow, drops of rain dripping from her eyelashes. “Why would you approach a stranger and offer her something like that? There has to be some reason. Men don’t just approach homeless women and give them jobs. It doesn’t work like that.”

Her voice barely audible over the violent storm, she jumped when lightning cracked across the sky. Carefully, she stepped away from me, her muscles tense as if she remained primed to run.

Smiling despite the water stinging my skin, I shoved my hands into my pockets. The sodden material struggling to remain plastered to my legs. “There’s no catch. Not yet anyway. But isn’t this a conversation we can have inside and out of the rain? I really must get back.”

Lacking trust in my honesty, she began to turn, but I moved quickly to grab her shoulder and hold her in place. Jerking away, she narrowed her eyes on me, her chin tilting higher. I was a good six inches taller, which didn’t make her short, not when compared to most women. Standing at six foot five, most people were shorter than me. “There is no catch to which you won’t agree,” I explained hastily. “At any point, if you decide to leave, the door is open for you to go. My hotel is a public place. It would be impossible to trap you, if that’s your concern.”

“Hotel?”

My lips tugged wider, my eyes scanning her face, finding that the blistering cold wind had deepened the color of her lips, the pink becoming purple, threatening to turn blue. “Yes, I own several. But I’d planned to take you to Wishing Well, my favorite. It’s just around the block. I promise you it’s safe.”

Laughing, she said, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what H. H. Holmes said to his victims as well.”

Genuinely confused, I arched a brow. “Who?”

Dirty Girl shook her head, water droplets flying from the ends of her hair. “Nothing, Just...never mind.”

I wasn’t the type to beg. “Have a good night then. I hope the rain suits you.”

I hadn’t finished my turn before she yelled, “Wait!” Pausing, I watched her run in my direction. “Is food included in this deal? I’m starving.”

And there it was, the moment I knew she was mine for the taking. The moment her cloak of rebellion faltered just enough for me to reach inside and take hold of the desperation within.