12

Maximilian
Cadence laughs.
If I were a lesser man, I might have crawled under the table with shame.

Which means I would have a close look at those legs.
But I’m not fazed by her apparent lack of interest. Cadence may not realize it yet, but there’s something here between us. And now I have all weekend to figure out what exactly it is.
Because she’s right—I will do my best to get her into bed.
“You have an amazing laugh,” I tell her, holding her amber eyes with mine. They’re like cats’ eyes, cool and calculating and undoubtedly looking for the best time to pounce and shred your ankles with their teeth and claws.
I’m more of a dog person but I like Cadence’s cat eyes.
I like most of what I’ve seen of her. “Laughter is good for the soul. You need to do it more often,” I add.
“I need to do a lot of things more often,” she says ruefully before I can stop myself.
I lean forward, moving the pot of tea to get even closer. “Really?” I demand in a husky voice. “Like what?”
She laughs again like I’ve told a joke.
I haven’t. Suddenly, I’m hit with a certainty that I want to know everything about Cadence Quiler. What makes her tick; what turns her off? Who has she been in love with and who dared to hurt her? And how do I get her to stay in my life after this weekend?
Because I already know it’s not going to be enough.
The waiter takes that perfect opportunity to arrive and I pay for my breakfast, a better meal than I expected considering the amount I drank last night. Maybe Cadence helped banish my hangover.
She might be magical like that.
“Now.” I rub my hands together. “Where should we go to find you a dress?”
Cadence frowns. “You didn’t say anything about a dress. You said a suit and I’m not even sure why—”
I hold up a hand again. “You can’t expect me not to buy you a dress for the wedding I’m dragging you to. I apologize for interrupting, by the way. Nasty habit of mine when someone isn’t doing what I want.”
“Do you always want people to do what you want?”
“Only when I know that deep down, it’s what they want too.” I lean forward. “Very helpful with the satisfying.”
Something flashes in Cadence’s eyes. I’m not sure what it is, but I like it.
She glances at her phone, still lying facedown. I hold my breath that she’s not going to pick it up and decide she has something more important than spending the rest of the morning with me.
“Fine,” she agrees. “One hour.”
“Two,” I counter, getting to my feet. “I promise you’ll have fun. Maybe I’ll convince you to take the rest of the day off and play hooky with me before we fly out.”
“I don’t play hooky,” Cadence protests as I escort her to the SUV in front of the hotel. The company always provides a car and driver on call when I travel on business, as well as access to the private plane.
I’m not sure my father knows the plane will be making a detour to Provinciales in Turks and Caicos later today.
That will be a fun conversation.
“You don’t, but there’s a first time for everything.” I motion to the driver to get back behind the wheel as I open the door for Cadence. She slides along the cream leather seat so I can climb in after her. “We won’t have much time after we finish shopping, so what’s the point of going back to work?”

“The point is that I own my own company and therefore things get done only when I do them,” she says sharply.
I like her temper. I also like the way she smells, which I only notice after we’re free of the food scents of the restaurant.
I breathe deeply, trying not to make it look obvious. Vanilla. And something else that I can’t put my finger on.
Yet.

The car pulls away from the curb, leaving the hotel behind us and hopefully any further visits from the police. It was easy to agree to help Cadence; I probably would have done it even without her coming to see me, especially seeing how the police treated her.
I get the sense Cadence doesn’t ask for help very often. And it’s probably difficult for her to accept it when offered.
There’s a lot more about Cadence than she lets on. More than the billionaire businesswoman who came from nothing to make the big deals in land development. More than the former escort who gave it up and probably knows more about sex than I do in my little finger.
Oh, that’s a lot of pressure.
I’ve always liked puzzles and word games and figuring out stuff. And Cadence is the best puzzle I’ve been faced with in a long time. Even in this short time, I’ve gotten peeks of what may be underneath and, like a dangling thread in a sweater, I want to pull until she begins to unravel.
“I disagree,” I say. “You may be amazing at what you do, but you’re not Super Woman. You have people to do things. Do you never sleep? Eat dinner? Date?” I throw that one in to gauge things.
“I only sleep for about six hours at a time, have been known to eat dinner at my desk, and don’t date.”
I don’t have to pretend my shock. “Don’t date? You can’t be serious.”
Cadence turns from where she’s been staring out the window. “I’m very serious about dating, which is why I don’t do it.”
“That might change, now that you’ve met me.”
She laughs almost like she’s surprising herself. The sound makes my balls tighten in the best way. “How can you be so confident without sounding cocky?”
“You don’t think I’m cocky? I must be doing something wrong. My father constantly accuses me of being insufferably cocky and arrogant. So, of course, I’ve perfected the trait over the years.”
“You don’t get along with your father?” There’s interest in her voice, in her expression. But…
“Cadence,” I admonish. “Why would you want to spoil the beginning of a perfect day with talk of my father?”
“I can get on board with no talk of fathers,” she says with a knowing look, which makes me want to find out more about her own.
“And no talk of business,” I instruct. “Although that is going to be a tough one since I’m fascinated by what you do.”
Her phone is still in her hand, but at least she’s focused on me. “What exactly do you think I do?” she asks.
“I know you own a bunch of clubs. I know they’re supposedly some of the best places to work before you take care of your people,” I tell her. “It’s impressive what you’ve built.”
“Thank you.” Cadence sounds surprised and I ask why. “No one looks at the clubs except to point out and criticize that most of them are places where women take off their clothes.”
“Yes, but you’ve created environments where it’s safe for women to do that. They’re not getting exploited working for you. You give them choices and security in a career that most wouldn’t get anywhere else.”
“I do. It was a lot different when I started dancing.”
I really, really want to ask why she was a stripper, but I know if I even mention it, this wonderful thread connecting us will break.
Cadence leans forward. “Do you know I commissioned a new stripper shoe—you know what they are, right? The shoes for pole dancing with the platform and the huge heel?”
“I may have seen them a time or two.”
Please don’t ask me about my experience at clubs where women spin around the pole with the finesse of professional athletes, I silently beg. Because if Cadence asks that, I’m going to have to dive deep into the hazy memories of beautiful women, having too much to drink, too much time on my hands, and the idiocy of youth.
The more time I have to look at Cadence, the more positive I am that if I take that deep dive into my past, I’m going to find out I’ve seen her dance.

I don’t want to go there.
“My shoes are like the usual shoes,” Cadence continues and it’s like an unblocked sink with water rushing down the drain, except in Cadence’s case, it’s her excitement let out to play. Who else gets to hear this? “But I wanted a thin, clear tread to the bottom, because they’re basically plastic shoes and super slippery, and girls were falling. With my shoes, you get some grip and now they’re the top-ranked shoe for exotic dancers.” She’s proud of this. Proud of creating a shoe. For looking out for other women.
“I had no idea,” I admit. “But—”
I don’t know what I said wrong because suddenly her excitement vanishes. “I have no idea why I told you that,” she cuts in with an expression of disgust on her face. “You don’t care about the footwear of women who take off their clothes for a living.”

Cadence is desperate for respect. It’s as clear as if she had a screaming match about how no one liked her. Seeing that doesn’t take away the admiration I have for it, it opens a spot of warmth for her.
“It’s important to women and so it’s important to me. I’ve got an assistant. Alice. She hasn’t had it easy, and the things that she’s told me…” I shake my head. “It’s been an eye-opener. I hate hearing about it, because then I have to do something about it, and my father refuses to donate to charities that don’t have his friends on the board. So I created a foundation, and Alice helps me find the best candidates that we can help. I’m proud of that like you must be proud of your shoes. There are so many ways to help people. Like your websites.”
“You think E helped people?” she asks scornfully.
I may not have ever used the E site to find a woman to date, but I’m not sure how to tactfully explain my opinion of it. “I think that website brought people together,” I manage.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“How would you put it?”
“I came up with an idea to help people come together to find happiness, and, yes, as a safe way to meet sexual partners. What I didn’t expect or want, is that my sites were seen as the way to cheat on your spouse.”
I glance over with surprise. “I hate that,” she adds.
“What did you think would happen?” I ask carefully.
“Not that it would become the Tinder for committing infidelity.”
“Yeah. That.”
“That’s why I sold it,” she admits. “This new one…”
“Moist and Frisky,” I offer and she laughs.
“Mature Adult Female,” she corrects. “It seems to have reached the proper demographic, thank goodness.”
“Which is unmarried women?”
“I was targeting those who are divorced. Those coming out of an unhappy marriage and looking to rediscover their sexuality.”
I can’t help myself. “Is this from experience?”
“I’ve never been married,” she says flatly.
Her tone tells me to leave it, but I’ve never been good at doing what I’m told. “Never wanted to? Because I can’t imagine you didn’t have a lineup waiting for you as long as the one when the new Apple phone comes out.”
Cadence sniffs and turns to the window, which gives me the perfect opportunity to stare at her profile without seeming creepy.
Her skin is pale, like she doesn’t see a lot of the sun. If I ran my finger along her cheek, I think it would be soft. If I touched her lips—
“I’ve had six men propose marriage to me,” Cadence says, interrupting my stare fest. “One tried to buy me, and another was charged with attempted kidnapping.”
This time, I wait for the punch line, but she’s serious. “Whoa. I knew you were a prize, but I don’t think it should involve illegal activities.”
“They do things differently in Saudia Arabia.”
“I’m sure.” This time I don’t hide my stare, holding Cadence’s gaze until she looks away. “I sense you’re a very interesting woman, Cadence Quiler.”
She shrugs and laughs. “If I say no, I’m lying, and if I agree, I’m arrogant. There’s no way to come out of that statement looking good.”

“You could look at it as it makes me really want to get to know you more,” I suggest.
Cadence studies me with her cool tawny gaze. “Who are you?” she finally demands.
“Maximilian Stonee,” I tell her. “At your service for as long as you’ll have me.”