Page 41 of Arran's Obsession
I hid a sigh. Alisha would get over it, and I had bigger fish to fry. “Thanks for the warning.”
“I’ll get on with gathering up your shite, then I’ll hit the road and drive up there. See ye later.”
Jogging upstairs, I made my way to the family room and stuck my head in. Cassie was alone in an armchair, a book open in front of her.
Her eyes narrowed, a squint of annoyance. “If you’re after Little Miss Prissy, we locked her in your room.”
For fuck’s sake. “What happened?”
“She pissed me off. Why has she got such a low opinion of ye? What have ye told her?”
“Nothing.”
“Ugh, that’s the problem, then. Men are ridiculous.” Cassie returned her focus to her book. “Probably should remedy that before she slurs your name to the whole world.”
I heaved a sigh and went to go, but she called me back.
“When do I get to dance at your club?”
“How about never.”
“Why not? It’d be fun.”
“Fuck around and find out what happens, Cass.”
She poked her tongue out, so I turned on my heel and headed back down a floor and around to the wing that contained my rooms. The key was in the door, and I unlocked it and entered.
Like last night, Genevieve had the lights out.
“Asleep?” I called out.
“Nope,” came her voice from the bedroom.
Strolling in and snapping on switches as I went, I found her sitting up cross-legged. The lamp behind backlit her hair so it glowed gold. For a moment, it was all I could do just to stare. If some divine being had downloaded my every desire, whether known or hidden, it couldn’t have produced a better fit than this woman.
Everything from her poise to the shape of her throat and the expression in her blue eyes sank arrows into me. If I let myself even think about her tits, I was hard. Being in the same room with her on a bed, I was hard.
Cassie’s criticism that I hadn’t told her enough about myself to stop her hating me hit home. For the next month, I would be tied to Genevieve Jones. Having her not hate me would probably help with that.
I leaned on the doorframe. “Do you have an allergy to light bulbs?”
“Actually, it’s the other way around. The dark freaks me out, so I make myself endure it.”
“You’re scared of the dark?”
I snapped on another lamp.
She raised a shoulder, her expression uncertain. “Everyone’s scared of something.”
The retort was ready on my tongue, the reply thatI wasn’t. But it would be a lie. I knew my greatest fear, and I’d taken pains to never let it happen again.
Genevieve took a breath. “Cassie told me a few things about your business which make no sense to me. She implied that you run the warehouse as some sort of place of safety for the women who work there. She said you don’t take money from them for yourself. Is that true?”
“Cassie has a big mouth.”
“Is it, though?”
“I’ve never taken one single penny from the women. Everything they earn goes back to them or to the running of the club and other concerns.”