Page 5 of Forbidden Touch

After licking my lips to moisten them, I take a sip of wine. Feeling airy from the buzz of the drink, I close my eyes and then reopen them. I feel completely relaxed for the first time in a while. “The Pinot is decent.”

A corner of his mouth lifts into a smile as he traces the curves of my upper body. “The best.”

Something in me begs to know more about him. He intrigues me, and it feels weird, but part of me welcomes it.

I take another sip and let the wine drain through my body. “So, no entertainment. What type of business do you like, then?”

He smiles. “The less volatile kind. Owning commercial properties is simpler. My warehouses around the city earn me good money, and I don’t have to deal with any drunk musicians pissing all over it.”

A laugh comes before I remember the whole reason I’m here. Shit. The warehouse. Terro. I’m supposed to be securing that venue. Blinking my eyes to focus, my mind races to figure out a strategy. “Yes, sounds lucrative.”

He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head. “It’s not too shabby.”

Without appearing too aggressive, I lick my lips and smile. “So, about that warehouse. I have the perfect artist in mind, and he would be absolutely amazing in one of your venues.”

A look of doubt forms on his face. “Ah yes. Well, the problem is, I have no venues. I own warehouses.”

Maintaining eye contact, I hold steadfast onto the deal. “Yes, I know, but they could become venues. I know you’re ambivalent about the entertainment aspect of it all, but I would handle all that. I just need the warehouse.”

He studies me in a quiet moment. “I know you could carry the load. The problem is that the warehouses are not for entertaining people. They’re filled with dusty work equipment. I mean, they’re warehouses.”

Smiling, I nod. “Exactly. I’m not looking for anything fancy. My artist is too alternative for that. His fans would love that industrial warehouse vibe, and so would he.”

He rubs a masculine hand over his chest. “I understand that, but my properties aren’t for the public. I’d have to pull permits and have it built out. We don’t even have a liquor license. It’s… a warehouse.”

When he puts it that way, the whole idea sounds insane, but I’m not giving up. I’ve got to get through to him. That warehouse is mine. I can taste it. “I totally get where you’re coming from, but what if I told you I’m confident we can rake in millions with ticket sales, especially if we place my musician there for a nine-month residency.”

He twists his mouth and flattens his hand over the dinner napkin. He’s quiet before he finally looks at me. “Sounds like you’ve done some homework on this.”

I push my long hair back over my shoulder. “This could be so lucrative, and you’d earn passive income. Loan out the warehouse and let the money roll in.”

He smiles, and the crinkles of his eyes look beyond attractive. “Of course.”

He appears to consider the deal again and says nothing for a long time.

I stay silent to let him think.

Finally, he meets my eye. “We split the profits 50-50.”

Excitement courses through me, but my shoulders fall slightly when I consider the numbers. The cut is too small. “We will split it three ways because my artist needs his fair share from the ticket sales.”

He arches his eyebrow. “That comes from your cut.”

Biting my lip, I reconsider the offer. I’m not in love with splitting my share with any musician, but I can’t let this deal slip away from me. As I meet his gaze, I nod. “I’ll take it.”

He smiles, his chin lifting. “So, we’re in business together. And nothing our families forced us to do.”

“Yes. This is going to be a highly lucrative partnership.” A flush creeps along my face as I watch his intense eyes on me. I bite my lip out of nervousness, then take a deep breath. “Glad we’re doing this. I… should get home now. It’s been a long day.”

He doesn’t move. Instead, he continues the deep gaze. “Did you drive?”

My lips purse. “I rode in with my art investor brother, Tristan, but he seems to have disappeared on me.”

“Ah. He’s probably busy with buyers from the auction.” His eyes drop to my chest before they meet my gaze again. “Let me drive you home.”

Chapter 3

Jonathan