“Sex.” She says it like it’s some bad word.
A low chuckle comes from me, and I drink some more beer. “Well, if not that, Neve, what?" She frowns. “What do you have that I want or need over what your brother provides?” I walk past her back into the lounge, pointing at the kettle. She can get her own drink if she wants one. I’m done playing host. If we’re negotiating, she better have something more than pleases and hope.
She clearly doesn't bother because she’s back in front of the fire before I manage to sit, her arms still folded and attitude all over her face again. “I can pay.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I need a lawyer on side, too. You’re not one. He is.”
She looks at the old carpet, trying to find a solution. There isn't one in reality. I’m being stupid to even consider helping. She's got nothing I need. And he's got everything I do.
She lifts her head up. "Okay. What if I said yes, then?”
“To what?”
“Sex.”
That’s fucking surprising. I lean my head back, brow cocked. “How much sex?” I press.
“Do you need an amount?”
I sip my beer, more than interested in this turn up. “Yes.”
She keeps her gaze trained on me, enough attitude in it that I’m guessing she’s negotiating without any intention of following through. It’s ballsy, though. Not something I expected from her. Pretty fucking reckless, actually. I’m heavy enough that she hasn’t got a chance if I take her on my own terms. Not that I would, but she's playing with some risky shit, and that's something that makes me think about fucking her more than I was doing.
“Once a week,” she opens with.
“How long are we expecting this to take?”
“Fine. Every other day?” she says, raising the offer.
“Alright.”
She loosens the tight grip she’s got around herself, her face seeming surprised. “That's it? You’re agreeing to help if I sleep with you?”
“Yes.” I drink some more beer and watch her visibly calm down, her arse falling back towards the chair.
She grabs the blanket again and wraps it around her frame, tucking her legs up tight. “And you’ll do everything you can to help me find Lewis and bring him back? Bring him to justice?”
“Yes.” I reach for the TV remote, flicking on the screen. I’m done talking for a while. This is more than I’ve done in a week, and I’m fucking tired of it. “I’ll need everything you’ve been going through, every fucking detail about why this has happened and what you need to make it go away. As long as that’s in place, we’re set. I'm done talking for now, though.”
She looks at me. I can feel it burning into the side of my face as I scan the headlines on the news. It's pretty ironic that some guy is professing his innocence on there, too. “Also, just so we’re crystal clear, Neve Broderick, you offered fucking, not sleep. Don't try backing out of it.”
Chapter Ten
NEVE
What have I just agreed to? I swallow, trying to calm the nerves that seem ready to send me off into a tailspin. Somehow, I’ve gambled my innocence on sleeping – sorry, fucking – Noah Locke. Although is it any worse than what I’ve already done? While sex can be … awkward, messy, and uncomfortable, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s a bodily function, nothing more than that. And if it results in me being able to best Lewis, then I can do it.
“If you’re done talking tonight, when do you want me to fill you in?” I ask. Although, I’m perfectly happy to stay sitting here by the fire. “Every minute we waste could be important.” He looks at me, a scowl covering his brow. “Look, Noah, the sooner I explain, the sooner we can get started.”
I’ve only seen a glimpse of his computers, but it looks like he’s got a full set-up in the back room. We could start tonight. And if we’re talking, we won’t be in bed. Although, Noah is undoubtedly … attractive. It’s been hard to focus my eyes at certain points in time, and the visual of him fresh out of the shower in Morocco did make me see him as someone other than just the guy sent to bring me home. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to pretend with him.
“Neve!”
I turn my attention to Noah, who’s looking expectantly.“Sorry?”
“Food? Have you eaten?”
“Um, no.”
