Page 5 of The Red (The Godwicks 1)

"I’dpreferit.”

"I very much wish tofuckyou.”

She opened her mouth and saidnothing.

"Too blunt?” he asked, a slight smile onhislips.

"No, no.” Mona waved her hand dismissively. "I appreciate the honesty. It’s refreshing. I’m not sure how fucking me can help the gallery, but I thank you kindly for theoffer.”

"You must let me finish. But first, may we adjourn to your office? I prefer to discuss business in offices. That’s what they’re made for and they get a little jealous when they’reneglected.”

"Of course.Thisway.”

She told herself that if he wanted to rape her and kill her, he could have done it by now and done it easily. He’d already proven he could slip in and out of the gallery without her knowledge even when the front door was locked. He was very tall—six foot or a little more by her reckoning, which was half a foot taller than she. Yet he hadn’t so much as touched her. Not even a handshake. And Tou-Tou seemed to like him, not that she’d ever heard of a cat being a good judge ofcharacter.

Inside her office, she switched on the little Tiffany-style desk lamp and sat behind her desk. It was a small desk, feminine, with filigrees, and the chair was petite as well. But the chair across from her desk was made for a man of Malcolm’s dimensions. A leather club chair, it fit him like a glove. He seemed the sort of man one would find in an old English club, no women allowed, old boys with money and power discussing politics behind the scenes. She wondered if he smoked cigars. She could smell the slightest trace of cigar smoke on his clothes. It was a masculine scent and not unpleasant in smalldoses.

"Business?” sheasked.

"You’re a very beautiful young lady,” Malcolm said. "I like very beautiful youngladies.”

"Doyou?”

"I’m aconnoisseur.”

"Are you? Do you have afavoritetype?”

"Elegant prostitutes,” he said. "A perennialfavorite.”

"You know I’m not a prostitute, yes?” sheasked.

"Not yet. But I think you’ll make a finewhore.”

She flinched at the word although he didn’t say it like an insult. It sounded rather nice coming from him. Like a pet namealmost.

"You enjoy using women for their bodies,”shesaid.

"Yes, verymuchso.”

"Most women prefer to be used for theirminds.”

"Foolishness,”hesaid.

"Foolishness?”

"The mind is seated in thebrain,yes?”

"Well…yes.”

"The brain is an organ of the body. Whether I use you for your mind or use you for your cunt, I’m still using you for an organ ofyourbody.”

"You make an interesting point.” The brain was indeed a bodily organ as were the genitals. She could hardly argue hislogic.

"You’re sitting on a goldmine, Mona.Literally.”

She blushed. "I’ve never had my vagina called a goldminebefore.”

"Perhaps I was referring toyourarse.”

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