Page 73 of Million Dollar High

“I didn’t invite them. They’re big boys. They can take care ofthemselves for five minutes.” Restlessness prowled through him. He glanced at his watch. “We’ll be done in a couple of hours. I’ll come and get you when they leave, okay?”

“Sure,” she replied.

They reached her floor, and he spotted three packages sitting outside her door. “Expecting a delivery?” he asked unnecessarily.

“Yep, I ordered some bath stuff online last night.”

For some reason that irritated him. “You aiming to take a lot of showers at your place?”

Her eyes grew a touch wary and she shrugged. “If I find myself in need of one when I’m home, yes.”

Pursing his lips, he took her keycard and opened her door. About to help her with the packages, he stopped when she put a hand on his chest. “I’ll get them in a minute, baby. Go back upstairs. The earlier you get your game going, the quicker I can come back.”

Unable to argue that sound logic, he yanked her into his arms and drowned in her intoxicating scent. Then he reluctantly pulled away. “Two hours, tops. Ninety minutes if I can kick them out without them whining like spoiled brats,” he promised as he backed away from her.

She laughed. “Yes, Noah.”

Christ. Any more of those responses and he’d be begging her to let him stay, his friends be damned.

He returned upstairs to find the guys staring at the painting.

Mike was the first to spot him. “Is that a genuine Mondrian?”

Noah cocked a brow at his friend. “You’re the only who deals with fakes, buddy.”

The other two barked with laughter and Mike grimaced. “Shit, one girlfriend with fake tits and a guy can’t live it down for love nor money.”

“Shame Olga the Ogre took your love and your money!” Damon ribbed mercilessly.

Noah grabbed two six-packs from the fridge and headed for the gaming room. “I’d love to skewer you to death over that unfortunate, but entertaining, period of your life, buddy, but I’d rather kick your respective asses at poker as soon as possible and send you packing. So let’s get this show on the road.”

He was already missing Leia like crazy, and she’d been gone less than five minutes.

24

Warren Snyder examined his closet with a sharp eye before settling on the charcoal grey pinstripe suit. Coupling it with a white shirt, he draped both over a sleek clothes press and moved to the mirror in his bathroom.

The bruises had faded. At least on the outside. But his jaw clicked when he moved it the wrong way. Or he chewed anything tougher than a rare chateaubriand.

According to his doctor, the sound might never go away.

That unquestionable blow to his pride was surpassed only by Leia’s callous betrayal.

In the silent days that followed the unfortunate event at the charity ball, locked away in the lake house no one knew about except him, he’d been fully intent on plotting to get her back. He’d deemed her worthy of one last attempt to salvage what she’d ruined. Just as he’d deemed his pride salvageable. With the right restitution.

His fingers paused over his still painful jaw. Flexing it delicately from side to side, he took a deep breath.

The breathing techniques had also failed him in the pastseveral days while he’d been mired in fury. He was glad to experience the return of calm.

Changing his mind had been hard, but he hadn’t come this far, removed the shackles of his unfortunate past, by being imprudent.

But that didn’t mean the fire of revenge had abated.

No, far from it…

Timing himself, he dressed in precisely seven and a half minutes and tugged on his sleeves in satisfaction. Clarity of mind had always been his sharpest weapon. The enforced sabbatical had enabled him to see the forest for the trees.

Timing was everything. And he was now wealthy enough to make biding his time a non-hardship. The best chess moves came with patience. And precision?—

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