But aren’t you Sloane?
I compose myself and put on an air of indifference. “Again, I suspect the power dynamics wouldn’t suit me.”
Lara gives me a thoughtful look. “There are different kinds of power. You seem like a smart cookie. Why put yourself into a lunch box when you could be served on a silver platter?”
“And, just for shits and giggles, how would I go about doing that?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound as interested as I actually am.
“Scheherazade.”
It takes me a moment to place it. “From A Thousand and One Nights?”
“Exactly. You already have his devout attention—at least based on what I’ve heard and seen. Forty days is it? Or should I say nights?” She smirks.
I blink in surprise. “What the hell? Does this town have any secrets?”
“None at all.” She laughs and shakes her head. “I think you could do in forty nights what Scheherazade took a thousand and one to accomplish. Just keep him interested, and he’s yours.”
“Night after night,” I say in a sarcastic voice, turning to look out over the edge of the railing.
She laughs again. “Oh, Sloane, you struck me as smarter than that. I don’t mean sex—at least not just sex. Sex in and of itself is easy. Hell, if that was all it took, I’d steal him from you right now.”
I jerk my head to face her, only to find her giving me that infuriatingly knowing smile. Whatever mask I have on has definitely slipped tonight.
“But you don’t strike me as easy by any means,” she says with a smirk.
“Is this you trying to butter me up for future business? Because I can tell you right now, wrong team. Besides, I doubt I could afford you.”
She laughs in a slightly heartier tone this time. “You probably couldn’t.”
I raise one eyebrow with indignation.
“But that’s not what I’m after,” she says, breezing right along. She leans her elbows on the railing next to me and stares ahead. “I like empowering women, helping them get what they want.”
She turns to me with one of her own eyebrows raised now. “Even if they don’t realize it yet.”
Before I can respond, she pushes away from the railing and turns to look inside again. “Duty calls.”
I watch her walk away in a very practiced manner—one which I’m not entirely opposed to incorporating myself in a pinch. Sensual but not provocative. I suppose there’s something to be learned there.
Good grief, I’ve been in this city for less than forty-eight hours, and already I’m considering taking lessons from a…what exactly? Prostitute? Whore? Escort? Courtesan?
Before she’s gone more than a few steps, she turns back to me. “Enjoy your second night, Sloane. Try to put it to good use.”
As she continues to walk away, I look past her at Magnus, watching him through the glass as the warm French Riviera breeze flows over me. He must feel my eyes on him because his slide away from Sebastian to stare at me. His gaze is penetrating, invading me in a way that feels almost obscene.
A thousand and one nights.
I only have thirty-eight left.
How many stories would I have to spin before I find the real information I need from Magnus?
How many before he falls for me?
How many before I fall for him?
Chapter Twenty-Nine Sloane
The evening has progressed into well past midnight. The guests have all been whisked away in their carriages back to various hotels, and some will no doubt continue where they left off here.
I’m leaning against the same railing where I had the very educational conversation with Lara. Magnus comes out to join me, settling on one elbow resting against the railing.
Time for me to start spinning a tale to keep him occupied.
Just how far am I willing to go to play the role of Scheherazade to confirm what I learned tonight about him buying a soccer team?
The way Magnus looks in that suit with Monte Carlo still in full swing as a backdrop makes him look like the next James Bond. A man who could kill me as easily as seduce me.
“Did you enjoy tonight?” He asks. In the dim but varied light surrounding us, I can still feel his penetrating gaze.
“It was an interesting mix of people.”
He laughs, low and deep. “It all served a purpose.”
Yours and mine both.
“I’m glad it was a success.”
“Is that you speaking as a hired employee or my date for the evening?”
“What happened to strictly business?”
“Are you sure that’s how you want this relationship to operate?”
I’m taken aback by the frankness with which he’s asked that, all but suggesting there could be something more than just business between us.
But hasn’t he been suggesting that all along?
And haven’t I been dabbling with it in my own fantasies?
I turn to face forward. “I don’t sleep with clients.”
“Then you’re fired.”
I laugh despite myself, then quickly silence it. I turn to him with a sly look. “You have complete control of me while I’m here. That ten-million dollars back at Douglas & Foster pretty much guaranteed it.”
He comes in closer—dangerously closer. I jump when his hand reaches out to take my chin. “If that were true, you’d already be in my bed.”
Once again, his boldness stupefies me, leaving my head spinning and my body weak.
“Tell me, Sloane, do you really want me to remain strictly business?”
I’m under no illusion that this is his way of asking permission. He’s no gentleman making sure the woman he is with is one hundred percent willing. After all, there are no gentlemen, just sharks savoring the hunt. And this shark has his prey right where he wants her.
I don’t know if Magnus reads it in my eyes, but he takes what’s his anyway. His hand, still on my chin, lifts it up to give
