Cupid: A Dark Erotic Romance Part 14

"I understand."

"So you won't be returning to my house to get the rest of my things?"

"I regret that I must still go as per Mr. Bishop's orders."

Diana stifled a laugh.

He was so proper.

So rigid.

So... butler-ish.

I wonder what type of boss Asher is. Does he provide his employees with more than just financial security?

"Okay, now I understand," she said. "I'll just handle this with Asher."

"Mr. Bishop will be out shortly." The driver went back to the limo.

Go back to get all of my belongings? That's silly. I only need a few clothes for a few days. There's no need to move in everything with me. He's absolutely ridiculous.

In front of her, the gigantic, wooden doors swung open.

Asher stood in the doorway, dressed as impeccably well as every time she'd seen him before. Black slacks hugged his long, lean legs. A white b.u.t.ton down, formed nice against his muscular torso. He looked like the spitting image of G.o.dd.a.m.n Bruce Wayne.

If only we had a Batman to conquer Cupid.

She laughed then, as visions spun through her head of Batman with his expensive toys battling Cupid and his deadly bow and arrow.

"What's so funny, Diana?" Asher asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing."

"Trust me. It's foolish." She waved his curious look away. "I figured you'd have work or some previous engagement since my move was such short notice. Were you waiting for me?"

His smile deepened. "Of course, I wouldn't let you spend your first night here alone. What a terrible host that would make me." Asher studied her belongings as his driver brought them to the door. "This only looks like enough for a few days."

"I only plan to be here for two days at the most."

"Diana-"

"I've thought about this and although your concern for my safety and your investment is nice, there's no real threat."

"He could be watching you, this Cupid guy."

"If he is going to come for me, it will be in the next few days. Until then, I don't believe I have anything to really be serious about. There's been no threats from him or even a substantiated break-in. You're basing all your fears on what I thought I heard, and it was probably just the wind." She looked around. "Besides, I think Cupid will be focused on his next kill, not some women that he probably doesn't even know or care to concern himself with."

Asher tilted his head to the side and grinned. "And you know this how?"

"His victims have always been men. I explained this already."

Asher wagged his finger. "And what about Neil's mistress?"

A pang hit her heart. The reminder of her husband's death along with his adultery still hit home at times. The wound from both were still too strong, it sat within her, festering at times, when she was alone in the emptiness of their place.

"I already explained why Cupid murdered Neil's mistress. He thought she was just as guilty as Neil."

"And you're willing to leave the safety of my property in two days, on this guess?"

"No."

"No?" He quirked his eyebrows.

"I'm going to stay with you for two days to give you time to gather a proper security team with all of that money that you put into my bank account."

"Why thank you, Mrs. Carson. I always like to know my orders ahead of schedule. And who is the security team for?"

"Me. You'll be providing this team for me."

"And is this my only option of keeping you safe?"

"Yes."

"I'm not sure I agree."

"Doesn't matter. And I've discussed this with my boss, just in case you want to use him as a threat. My boss and I both believe that this funded investigation is important to the island and beneficial to the paper. However, we also agree that a security team is more rational than an Ovid Island news reporter living under the roof of one of the wealthiest men on the island."

His face shifted into a neutral mask. "Well, this is a twist."

"Is it?"

"Yes. It seems my guest will only be here for two days."

She beamed. "That's correct."

"Stop it." He frowned.

"What?"

"You're over there grinning like a child that's stumbled upon their parent's secret place for hiding Christmas presents."

She shrugged. "My mother and father never could find a good place to hide the toys. I always found them a good week before Christmas. Luckily, they wrapped all of them before hiding them."

"You never opened any of the presents?"

"No way."

"Not even a little peek, like pulling the corner of the wrapping paper back just a tiny bit? Seeing as how curious you are, I don't believe you. Not one bit."

"No. The goal was never to ruin the surprises. I only wanted to outsmart my parents."

"And I bet you did," Asher said. "As much as possible."

"Since I only have two days with you, let's start now." He captured her hand. The heat radiated from his palm and warmed her down to her bones. He chuckled to himself, as if he understood the effect he had on her. "Are you sure you won't reconsider, staying longer?"

"I can't. Remember. I have funeral plans as well as so many other things to get done."

"You have the money to hand all of those things down to a staff."

"If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself," Diana said in a sing-song voice.

Asher's left eyebrow rose. "Touche. A woman after my own heart. However, you really should consider p.a.w.ning off your tasks. Then you'll have time to stay with me, the loneliest man on the island."

Diana eyed him. A wealthy, G.o.d-like man with good taste, good manners and the fort.i.tude to go above and beyond for his investments.

How is he lonely? No way. But wait a minute, why is he still single? How has no one trapped this good-looking man?

He cleared his throat. "Diana?"

"I'm sorry. What?"

"Stay with me for a week, at least."

"I can't."

"You can."

"How about we finish this conversation later, and you show me around?"

"Fine." Asher pulled her inside and it was as if Diana stepped into a fairytale.

Diana darted her gaze around the house and couldn't settle on what to be transfixed with first. The high ceilings? The bay windows that overlooked Ovid Island? The cream and gold walls that sparkled at every angle? There weren't a lot of things that surprised Diana anymore, but this house?

She was completely in awe.

Asher winked at her. "I take it you find your accommodations sufficient?"

Diana couldn't answer him. She was too busy staring at an archway covered by intricate iron bars with a huge door blocking the way.

"Where does that go to?" she asked.

"Ah. A woman with a perceptive eye and good taste. That would be the way to the wine cave."

"Wine cave? You're pretty serious about your wines."

His lips curved into a salacious smile. "As every well-educated man and woman should be." He pulled her forward, through the grand entrance of the kitchen. "I have the best chef on the island here. Her name is Grace. She'll make you anything your heart desires. All you have to do is ask."

He paused for a minute and sighed. "Although she's been acting a little odd in this last year, so if all your requests aren't met, just let me know, and I'll talk to her."

Diana stared at the commercial size kitchen. For as much silver and granite she could see, there were twice as many people shuffling around, doing G.o.d knows what.

"All of this is for you?"

"Not just for me."

"Wouldn't there be a lot of food wasted each day?"

"Not here." Irritation glittered in his eyes.

Diana considered stopping the topic right there, but decided to push it a little further. For whatever reason, mentioning the waste annoyed him. She liked that. Most didn't care. Almost all, ignored the fact that they were filling their garbage cans with pounds of untouched gourmet food every day, while people all over the world starved.

"I'm just saying," she continued. "This is a huge place and there's a lot of food being made. You're only one man."

He ceased with walking and spun on his heels. The rest of the words came out in a careful tone, but Diana could tell that she'd definitely hit a nerve. "Unlike the other people on this island, I'm not that selfish or crazy with my spending. Whatever's cooked in this kitchen feeds all of the staff. They're never denied a meal. Never."

"Hmmm."

He didn't move. "Hmm?"

"That's good."

"But not good enough?"

"Look." She raised her hands in front of her. "We're off topic, and supposed to be doing a tour of your home."

"I feel like your questioning my contributions to society."

"Really? All I said was that your kitchen staff is making a ton of food."

"Yes, but it came off as something more. So let's deal with this now, so there isn't any confusion." He placed his hands into his pockets. "Last year in Miami, the homeless shelters had begun charging people to stay and eat there. For each person, it cost ten dollars a day to sleep on a tiny cot surrounded by a hundred strangers-old and young women, mothers fleeing from domestic violence just hoping to keep their kids safe, addicts lost in their own reality. Ten dollars a day to stay there."

"That's madness."

"That's not all. In order to eat in the soup kitchen, it cost a dollar with every meal."

"To our a.s.sociates on this island, that's a humble deal." Asher stepped close to her. "But to you and I, that's wrong. We know d.a.m.n well that if a person's only choice is to sleep in the streets, to walk around homeless, then there's a huge possibility that the person doesn't even have the money to pay the shelter."

"You're right."

"So I changed that. I paid everyone's bills, took over ownership of each shelter, built another one focused solely on mothers and kids that for whatever reason were forced to live out on the streets."

She gulped. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, you saw the wealth around me, and figured I was just like every other man on this island."

"And you're not."