The Barter System Companion: Volume One Page 13

  “I think…I know you’re brilliant.” Glancing around the first floor, Sóta took in the large rooms and original details. “We can save more than we did with the last one.”

  Walking to the staircase, he glanced up through the opening. “Four floors gives you more apartments.” Looking at Adrian, he asked, “Laundry facility, storage, and gym in the basement?”

  “I think we have room for an indoor play space with these two buildings. The basements are bigger. A place kids can play during winter months that offer a little outside light.”

  Sóta’s smile was slow. “Like I said…brilliant.”

  One of the workers brought in a long folding table and set it up in the foyer. Spreading out dozens of drawings, he stood back and waited for Adrian to examine them.

  They were the initial drawings of the two buildings and Adrian glanced up in surprise. “You already did the rough drafts?”

  “I picked up the keys last week when you were traveling. I also swore Ivy to secrecy until I could get these done.”

  Laughing, Adrian shook his head. “She likes you better.” Letting his eyes move over the pages, he took a deep breath. “These are spectacular, Sóta. Truly. You captured exactly what I wanted.”

  “I can shave space off the gym and storage space in the basement for the playroom you want. That’s a great addition, Adrian.”

  For hours, they pored over the plans and walked the buildings together, fine-tuning the final draft that would be used for the construction crew.

  Grinning, Sóta told him when it started to get dark, “We need to eat and I insist on buying.”

  “Absolutely not…”

  “It’s pointless to argue a case already made. Let’s fill our bellies and toast to the beginning of another cutting edge real estate venture.” His dark eye winked. “I’ve slowly pared back my other clients because I see you ramping up.”

  “You didn’t have to do that! I’ll work around your availability.”

  “These homes you build for average people…they matter. Each project helps dozens of families who’d be living in sub-standard housing or paying more than they should. I’m proud to be part of it.”

  The man had him close to tears.

  “Thanks. It wouldn’t be possible without you.”

  They gathered the blueprints, put them back in the protective case, and walked toward the door.

  The fading light made Adrian miss the loose board he’d noted every time he walked the building. His foot landed just right and sent him flying.

  Sóta caught him easily.

  Face to face, touching a large portion of the man’s body as he held him suspended above the floor, and inhaling a lungful of forest and musk blanked Adrian’s mind.

  Suddenly, every moment the other man made his heart race, made his breath uncertain, and made him hard was there in the back of his mind.

  A small whimper of need escaped him, though he tried to hold it back.

  The architect put him carefully back on his feet, checked to be sure he wasn’t injured, and placed the drawings back on the table.

  Prepared to laugh off the moment, Adrian started to make an excuse for a sound and reaction that could easily be attributed to pain or being startled.

  Sóta took his shoulders, slammed his back against the nearest wall, and dropped his mouth over Adrian’s.

  Stunned disbelief washed over him, robbing him of his ability to respond or engage.

  Then strong hands moved to hug him, to hold him, as he increased the urgency of his kiss.

  I’ve wanted this for so long…

  Nervously, Adrian lifted his hand, sliding it along Sóta’s neck as he angled his face for better access. His other arm wrapped lightly around the bigger man’s waist, barely touching no matter how badly he wanted to grip him tight.

  It was impossible to know how long the kiss went on but as he blinked against the euphoric fog when Sóta pulled back slightly, he wondered what would happen next.

  “I think we need to discuss more than buildings.” Adrian nodded. “Food first and then I want to take you home with me.” There was a pause. “Would you like to come home with me, Adrian?”

  “Yes.” His voice was too quiet, his mind overwhelmed, his body in chaos, but he’d never wanted anything as much.

  Sóta stepped back and checked the state of their clothes. Both hands raked through Adrian’s hair and came to rest on his shoulders. The silence drew out between them.

  “As an architect, my mind is well-ordered and the steps I take through my life are plotted carefully.” Leaning forward, he touched his lips to Adrian’s forehead. “For many months, I’ve considered you a major component in my long-term plans.”

  Their eyes met and Adrian whispered, “While I never dared to consider such a thing.”

  One arm wrapped around his shoulder and Sóta picked up the blueprints. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

  An Unorthodox Rescue

  New York City - April 2012

  It felt as if bugs crawled under her skin. She needed a fix so bad she couldn’t get up. Her body wouldn’t obey simple commands and the shakes made it hard to focus.

  A man appeared in her peripheral vision and she experienced instant terror. Junkies like her were at the mercy of whoever came along when the need was bad. Sometimes guys left her money, sometimes they used condoms, but too often, they took what they wanted and left her there.

  She knew it was a matter of time before she was pregnant or dead.

  He knelt beside her and she calmed at a face she’d seen before.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  Many people like her knew who he was though his name was a secret. He watched the dregs of society and select a few to help him. Others left the streets and when they appeared again, the changes in them were unreal.

  What he never did was act as if he didn’t see them.

  They called him the Godfather...like the Fairy Godfather...because he was silent, was known to possess deadly skills, and was one of the most beautiful men they’d ever seen.

  She managed to nod, wondering what would happen. She knew she was of no help to him. She couldn’t even get herself to a bathroom.

  “I’m going to take you with me. Do you want to come with me?”

  Until the moment he asked the question, she didn’t know how badly she wanted someone, anyone to help her. She felt immediate tears fall from the corners of her eyes but wasn’t able to wipe them away.

  “P-please...” He bent to pick her up and she croaked, “You shouldn't. I’m filthy.”

  “It’s alright. Don’t think about that.”

  He lifted her easily and walked through the warehouse into an overcast day that was colder than she realized.

  Someone opened a car door and he slid into the back of a large SUV with her in his arms. The windows were darkly tinted.

  “Why?” she asked. “Why me?”

  “Why not you?”

  “I’ve messed up everything I’ve ever touched.” It was the most honest thing she’d ever said to herself. “I'm no use to you.”

  “Let me worry about that. Here.” He handed her a pipe and her eyes went wide. “Enough to make your body stop hurting until I can get you detoxed. Right now, you’re helpless and I don’t want you to feel that way.”

  She took the pipe with a shaking hand and took a long hit of her personal demon. Her body responded in less than 30 seconds and he sat her up, positioning her on the seat beside him.

  After she took another hit, he held out his hand and she placed the pipe in it. It wasn’t easy to look into his stunning gray eyes.

  “Thank you.” She meant it.

  “You're welcome.” He glanced through the window at the passing buildings. “I remember the way it feels to be out of control. I remember the pain.”

  As her brain began to clear, she couldn’t imagine him being like her. Maybe one day she could ask him more. Now was not the right time.

  “What can I call y
ou?”

  He turned to look at her and his genuine smile shocked her. He was so much.

  “My name is Hollow.”

  Three days later, as her body fought to kick a habit born of desperation and an underlying hope she would find death, she understood two things.

  She would end up loving him and he would not love her in return.

  None of it mattered.

  The physical pain now, the emotional pain that waited ahead for her, none of it mattered. All that mattered, that drove her on, was making sure Hollow didn’t regret choosing her to save.

  Whatever it took.

  The Party

  Chapter One

  Even though her college roommate said she did it all the time, the entire situation was killing her.

  It wasn’t easy for Phoebe to wear practically nothing and wait for unknown men to use her body in exchange for the money she so desperately needed.

  Money she hadn’t been able to raise any other way, no matter how she tried. She felt ready to crawl out of her own skin.

  Until she saw him.

  It was his eyes. For the first time since arriving at the mansion and being given the expensive new lingerie she now wore, she felt calm.

  This man...him, she wanted as a woman.

  If he was her first client, she might make it through the rest of this night with her soul intact instead of running away in fear and self-loathing. Even then, it would be touch-and-go for a long time.

  He stared at her without moving. Did he not want her?

  Would she have to enter a private room with one of the many cold-eyed corporate giants in attendance? Would she have to struggle not to cry as he sweated and grunted over her? Would she have to endure the touch of someone old enough to be her grandfather?

  He was tall and made her feel feminine. At almost six-feet herself, it was an unusual feeling. In the heels she’d been given, she was three inches over six feet. He was taller still, broad-shouldered, but lean. He looked strong for someone so slender.

  His hair was black or dark brown, it was hard to tell in the dim light. It fell shaggily around an angular face. The mask he wore couldn’t conceal his black eyes surrounded by thick lashes or the elegant brows above. His lips were full for a man, sensual.

  The pinstriped suit draping his body was clearly custom-tailored. She might not know much about fashion but she knew “too expensive for me” when she saw it.

  Bright white cuffs held onyx cufflinks. A heavy platinum watch that probably cost more than she made in a year wrapped his thick wrist.

  He was intimidating simply standing still and silent in a crowded room. She was ashamed and afraid but it didn’t change the fact that she wanted him.

  As he stared at her with those soulful eyes, she wished she’d seen him somewhere else…anywhere else but here.

  There was only one way to think about a woman who found herself in a place like this.

  Chapter Two

  Colm attended The Party before, usually with friends or colleagues, but rarely found a woman who interested him.

  The moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she didn’t belong. He could see she didn’t want to be here. This one was not accustomed to the world she’d stepped into.

  She trembled slightly in the expensive outfit she wore that highlighted a lean frame and endlessly long legs made even longer by heels.

  The dark blue camisole showed modest breasts and flowed along a torso some might call too thin. Matching tap pants snugged narrow hips and a taut ass.

  Her hair was a deep brown and silky. It reminded him of the finest mink. Her eyes were dark brown as well, the highlight of a classically beautiful heart-shaped face. Delicate brows, a pert nose, full pouty lips, and high cheekbones.

  She wore almost no makeup and he thought it was probably common for her. She was tall for a woman but in her bare feet, he would still have to bend to kiss her.

  He wondered again how such a woman found herself in this den of overindulgence. Something forced her to this moment, to this place, and her heart fought it even as her mind tried to accept what was happening.

  He was raised a gentleman. He might not have a heart but his wallet would never be empty in his lifetime. Whatever this night would’ve earned her, he would provide.

  Maybe she wouldn’t have to come back.

  Colm knew he frightened her on some level but watching her expressive face held him enthralled.

  She wasn’t a woman familiar with money and the evidence of his worth draped his body as it had all his life. She was overwhelmed and embarrassed. One of her feet edged back as she prepared to walk away.

  He reached her in two strides. “No.”

  With his hand on her low back, he guided her through the candlelit halls to the room he’d reserved for the evening.

  It was something he always did, paying the exorbitant fee just in case. There were a handful of occasions in the six years he’d been attending the quarterly event that he used it.

  Once inside, he pushed the door closed behind them and lightly cupped her hip. A silent order to be still which she obeyed without thought. He stood behind her, hands on her shoulders, without speaking for a long moment.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Phoebe.”

  “Why are you here, Phoebe?”

  “I…”

  The words didn’t come and he felt her stiffen under his hands. He watched her pulse pound in her neck where her hair draped behind her.

  “I won’t judge you.” She remained silent though he heard her breathing speed up. “Tell me the truth.”

  “My shop. The…the taxes went up this year when the area was renovated. They were so high I couldn’t pay them. I’m already late. I needed the money. I’ve tried everything else to raise it. I can’t lose my shop.”

  “How much?” Her small gasp was sharp, painful. “Not for you, Phoebe. How much do you need for your taxes?”

  A bitter laugh she couldn’t restrain gave proof to her pain and frustration. “Six thousand dollars. I wonder how long I’ll need to spend on my back to earn so much.” He knew the words were accidental. In shock, she rushed to say, “I-I’m sorry. I’m unaccustomed…”

  “Ssh. No apologies. How did you come to be here?”

  Her head dipped in resignation. “My roommate from college. She…does this sometimes, I guess. She called me last night when she saw my attempt to raise funds was going to fall short.”

  He led her to the small table and pulled out a chair. “Sit.”

  She lowered herself into it carefully, as if afraid she’d shatter, her back poker straight. When she was settled, he unbuttoned his jacket and sat facing her.

  His elbow rested on the table and his thumb held his chin as he stroked the skin above his upper lip with one finger. They sat that way for longer than a minute. He was impressed she neither fidgeted nor tried to fill the quiet.

  “What’s your last name, Phoebe?”

  Eyes that stared over his shoulder darted to his. “Why do you want to know my last name? I-I don’t do this. I run a bookstore. I write. I’m not…not a…”

  He heard the uncertainty of her words trail off, her need to reassure herself she wasn’t a whore, no matter where she was or what she was prepared to do.

  “Who you are at the core of your being determines if you’re a whore, Phoebe. Not what you do to survive.”

  Reaching inside his jacket, he withdrew a pen and a narrow case holding his personal checkbook. Opening it, he uncapped the Monte Blanc pen and began to write.

  After a moment, he looked up and met her eyes. “Your last name, Phoebe.” His tone brooked no argument.

  “Simon. My name is Phoebe Simon.” She took a deep breath and returned to staring passed him, she asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Colm Troy.” The sound of writing filled the quiet, then the tearing of paper. “Look at me, Phoebe.”

  Her lips trembled but she allowed her gaze to connect with his again. “Your trouble i
s overwhelming to you. A woman who obviously works hard and takes pride in her business would find this situation, one of helplessness, almost unbearable, I’d think.”

  She gave one sharp nod and he watched as a single tear slid down her cheek.

  “I can fix your problem without causing a single ripple in my own life. I expect you to accept my solution without obligation, without fear. Do you understand, Phoebe?”

  “No. No, I don’t understand.” Her words were honest, her voice barely audible.

  He held the check out to her and shaking fingers took it from him. Her eyes widened in shock, closed as if she didn’t trust what she’d seen, then opened and read the numbers again.

  “This is far more than I need. I…it would take me years to pay it back.” Gathering her pride and lifting her chin, she whispered, “Are you trying to buy me, Mr. Troy?”

  For one instant, uncontrollable lust slammed into his body as he considered having this beautiful, intelligent woman as his personal sexual vessel.

  He quickly subdued the image and smiled, an expression he rarely used and was even more rarely genuine.

  “No. I’m not buying you, Phoebe. Your worth wouldn’t fit within the boundaries of a check.”

  He stood and walked to the carved wardrobe across the room. Reaching inside, he removed a hip-length black silk robe.

  * * *

  Returning to her side, he took Phoebe’s elbow and helped her rise. He held the garment for her to put on. His hand on her lower back, they returned to the hallway.

  She was unbelievably confused.

  “Do you have a bag here, Phoebe?”

  She nodded and he stepped through a small hidden door, leaving her in the hall alone, the check still clutched in her fingers. The shaking of her body steadily worsened.

  Two minutes later, Colm emerged from the door with her leather backpack in his hand.

  “A note will be left for your friend that you’re being seen home safely so she doesn’t worry.”

  Holding out his arm, she slipped her hand inside it, and allowed him to guide her from the beautiful mansion, despite her confusion, fear, and inner turmoil.

  Within moments, she sat in the passenger seat of his Aston Martin and they left the estate.