Chapter Seven

Elle

FROM ONE DISASTROUS situation to another.

Silence fell in the alley.

~They’re gone.~

But he’s still here.~

My skin prickled with intensity from the hooded figure, standing dangerously lethal and so damn close. I didn’t look at him.

I didn’t want to make eye contact or give him any reason to become the villain after being the knight.

I looked at the ground. “Um, I owe you a thank you.”

My naked stomach tingled as he scuffed a pebble and turned to face me. The darkness of his hood masked his features, but I felt his eyes lingering on my bra.

The reckless confidence I’d had when facing down Baseball Cap and Adidas vanished. I snatched the ends of my torn top, pulling them closed.

The broken material hid a little but not enough of the black lace or swell of my flesh.

My heart bucked.

Had he chased them off because he was a Good Samaritan or because he wanted what they were about to take? Despite his assurances he wasn’t like them…how could I be sure?

“Look, whoever you are. Thank you for saving me. But I must insist you let me go.” I spotted the bomber jacket Adidas had torn off me and ducked to pick it up.

Holding the black material in front of me like a shield, I said, “Step aside. Let me pass.”

The glittering lights of civilization promised safety down the long tunnel of the alley. All I wanted to do was go home.

Home.

A taxi.

~I need money.~

Holding my hand out, I kept my eyes down. “Can I have my belongings, please?”

“Your belongings?”

His deep voice somehow avoided my ears and echoed deep in my belly instead. I shifted on the spot, a chill from him and the night sky painting me in goosebumps.

He came closer, tipping his chin up. Shadows slunk back as if afraid of him as I clutched bravery and looked up.

Everything about him was cloaked. “I won’t bite.”

I flinched, doing my best to drink in his face so I could remember it—just in case I had to file a police report.

~Which I don’t want to do as my father must never know about this.~

His eyes and forehead remained hidden by his hood, but his lips were in full view. Firm and masculine with just the right amount of stubble that’d turned into a short beard.

He was rugged, bordering unkempt.

One hand vanished into his jeans pocket. “Do you mean these?” He fanned the cash and my ID badge.

I nodded. “Yes, those. Can I have them?”

He counted the bills. “Eighty bucks?”

I tilted my chin. “It’s all I need.”

Why did I feel like the biggest liar in history? I didn’t know what it was like to have only eighty dollars. I had unlimited funds.

Just because I didn’t shop or had no one to lavish gifts with didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate the freedom of never having to look at a price tag.

“Need to do what?” He cocked his head, the hoodie still covering his gaze.

“If you must know. To taxi home.”

“Ah.” He said it like a full stop. As if it made perfect sense to this evening of nonsense.

I wriggled my fingers. “So…can I have it back?”

He ran my lanyard I.D through his fingers. “Let’s talk about this first.”

“What about it?”

“Your name is Noelle Charlston?”

“What of it?”

“You’re named after Christmas.”

I huffed. “I’m named after—”~One of the richest founders in retail~. I held my tongue. I didn’t need this rescue to turn into a kidnapping for ransom.

“Named after what?” He danced the I.D over his knuckles with a dexterity that made my mouth go dry. A streak of blood marred the laminated photo.

I stepped toward him, despite every neuron wanting to run.

“My name is Elle. Just call me Elle, give me back my things, and let me go.”

“I don’t think so, Elle. Not yet.”

I froze. “Excuse me?”

“You intrigue me.”

“So?”

“So, it’s not often someone intrigues me.”

“Why?”

He moved closer. His body heat was noticeable in the chilly evening. “Because I don’t normally take the time to actually talk to people. You’re an exception.”

I didn’t know if I liked being an exception. Did that mean he might do other things that were an exception—like hurt me when he’d normally free me?

Nerves made me shiver. Clamping down on such weakness, my hand lashed out and snatched my I.D card. “There. I’ve taken back what’s mine. You can’t get mad.

“It never belonged to you.” My eyes landed on the money. “Give that back, and we’ll go our separate ways.”

He smiled. His teeth were straight and white in the dark scruff of his beard. “I don’t think so, Noelle Charlston.”

“Elle.”

“Okay, Elle.” He took another step, ungluing shadows from around him until only a foot separated us. I sucked in air as his black sneakers crunched on loose gravel and his hands came up.

I stiffened, waiting for him to take what his runaway buddies had tried. Only, his fingers didn’t connect with me, they connected with the material of his black hood.

Slowly, he pushed it away and let it fall, revealing his face.

My lungs forgot how to work as I drank him in.

Fierce eyebrows gave expression and authority to the intensity of his dark brown eyes.

Dark hair bordering on black curled around his cheeks, forehead, and ears, speaking of wildness rather than tamed.

His strong nose and refined cheekbones were perfect adornments to the beard bordering his lips.

Hell, those lips.

They were soft and damp and almost kind when everything else about him looked cruel.

I’d been around men in the office, but all of them were either overweight, older, or gay. I’d never been so close to an attractive male similar in age and completely ruthless in violence.

I stepped back, cursing the wobble in my knees. I wanted to put it down to fear, but my stupid heart said otherwise.

I was ~attracted~ to him.

Here of all places.

Him of all men.

My body found his utterly appealing for the first time in my life, and I had no idea how to deal with that.

What did that say about me?

I’d narrowly avoided being hurt and somehow indulged in an attraction for a man I’d met in the worst circumstances.

~I’m not normal.~

Whatever interest I felt could not be tolerated.

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you want from me?”

He smiled, his mouth once again bewitching me. “Not sure yet.”

I pinched myself, trying to get my runaway hormones under control. I wasn’t some horny teenager. I was a CEO who almost got molested. So what he was good looking?

~That means nothing!

You need to go home.

Right now.~

Steeling myself against him—grateful when my heart stayed in a normal ~thud-thud~ and not the desire-fueled flutter from before—I snapped, “What do you mean?”

He shifted, kicking one leg out for balance. It wasn’t anything but an adjustment, but it drew my attention down his body. To how tall he was. How his thigh shaped the dirty denim.

How he wore mystery like an expensive new fashion must-have. “I mean, there’s something about you.”

~There’s something about you, too.~

Even the darkness of the alley couldn’t detract from three things I noticed right away:

One, he was entirely too handsome (or I’d been far too sheltered to be alone with him).

Two, he had an aura about him that demanded respect that wasn’t born but earned.

Three, he was filthy but didn’t seem to care as I followed a stain in his hoodie then a scuff then a hole.

He just stood there, allowing my inspection as he repaid the favor. His eyes had fingers, trailing over my skin with gentle feathers, forcing me to catch my breath even though I remained still.

~Oh, my God, get a grip, Elle.~

Yes, he saved you.

Yes, he was brave enough to stop a crime.

But that’s all there is to it, and all there’ll ever be.

You are not a silly girl who gets crushes.

Time to go.~

Whatever this was meant nothing.

It couldn’t.

Things like this didn’t happen in real life, and they certainly didn’t happen in ~my~ life.

Just because Dad had stopped reading me fairy-tales long ago didn’t mean I needed to fabricate such ridiculousness now.

I forced myself to look at his face. I’d almost forgotten what we discussed, which was idiotic, and crazy, and so unlike me, panic whizzed through my blood, making me curt. “Money.

“I need it.” I held out my hand, hating the wobble. “I want to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t leave.”

“What?” My eyebrows shot upright as my pulse thrummed in my punch-bruised temple. “Of course, I can leave. I ~want~ to leave. You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

He held up his hand, oblivious to his dirty nails and dried blood on his knuckles. “Easy. You can go. I’m not holding you captive—I didn’t mean that.”

“What ~did~ you mean?”

He wafted the money, making the bills flop in his fist. “I mean... we need to talk about this money.”

My hackles rose. “What about it?”

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, distracting me. His gaze locked on mine, either aware of the reaction he caused or seeking answers to his own curiosity.

His voice lowered to a murmur. “I saved your life.”

“You did.” My voice slipped to a whisper, accepting the quietness almost with relief.

Tension unwound from my shoulders only to spool tight again as he said, “I think the generous thing to do is offer me your cash.”

Half of my brain knew why—he’d given me a service and nothing in life was free. But the other half was so befuddled, so drunk on his beard-covered jaw and kissable lips, I wrinkled my nose.

“What for?”

He coughed with a thread of annoyance. “Payment, of course. For saving you. We just agreed that’s what I did?”

Another injection of adrenaline flooded my veins. I nodded, wound up and jumpy with the way he watched me. “You’re right. You did save me.

“It’s only right you earn a reward.” I wouldn’t deny him payment—especially when it looked as though his clothes had seen better days.

But I also couldn’t fight the small terror of how I would get home.

~You walked here.

You can walk back.~

Technically, I could. I just couldn’t envision walking through the city after what had just happened without jumping at shadows every step.

~I’m not cut out for the outside world.~

I should’ve stayed in my tower and played with my cat and ran my father’s company like I’d been groomed to.

Hooded Man flicked the money with his spare hand. “Great. I accept. Thank you.”

“Thank ~you~ for saving me.”

He flashed his teeth. “You’re welcome.”

Something switched between us, removing the threat of violence, putting us at an impasse.

His shoulders sagged a little. Glancing at the money, his face darkened as if fighting an internal war. Suddenly, he held out the bills. “Here, take it.”

“But I just gave it to you. You’re right—”

His fingers latched around my wrist, while his other hand slammed the notes into my palm. “I don’t want it.”

I gasped at the heat of his touch. At the way my skin ignited beneath his. How the crackle of awareness increased a thousand-fold. And then it was gone as he yanked his hands away and backed up.

Dragging his fingers through his black-brown hair, he muttered, “I should go.”

Here was my chance to return home without any more mishaps. I could nod and agree and walk out of the alley to summon a chariot to drive me back to my realm.

But his despondency made my fear switch to empathy. Just as I’d fed the homeless man in Times Square, I wanted to help this one, too.

~If he is even homeless~.

For all I knew, he was a masked crusader running around the city, getting dirty by helping women like me who had no right being out so late alone.

I broached the small space between us. “I truly am grateful.”

“I know.”

Steeling myself, I leaned forward and stuffed the bills into the front pocket of his hoodie.

Such a bad move.

Inside was warm with the faint grit of crumbs and life-dirt but against the soft material was a hard stomach, breathing fast.

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice was a spur, kicking my heart into a frenzy.

I yanked my hand from his pocket, leaving the cash inside. “I want you to have the money. In return for a favor.”

His face tightened. “I’ve already done you a favor, remember?”

“I remember.” I glanced at his bloody knuckles where a few had swollen and bruised with injury. “Would you let me look at your hands or at least buy you some Tylenol?”

“No.”

~Okay…~

“In that case, all I ask in exchange for the money is you to escort me home.”

Home?

~What the hell are you doing?~

I couldn’t afford to let this vagabond know where I lived. Dad would be mortified.

Our furniture and belongings would probably be stolen once he figured out our daily schedule and knew when the house was vacant.

~You’re an awful person.~

How could I think such things after he’d saved me?

~Trust.~

I had to trust him, despite outward appearances and circumstances.

~Believe.~

I had to believe in my gut when it said he wasn’t to be feared.

I wanted him to have the money over a grouchy cab driver. All he had to do was walk me back.

“You want me to take you home?” His mouth parted. His face remained in shadow, visible but still a mystery. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to know where you live?”

“If you were going to hurt me, you would’ve done it by now.” I opened my arms to incorporate the alley. “We’re alone. You already know I’m terrible at escape. Yet you’ve been a perfect gentleman.”

He barked a laugh. “Gentleman? Right.” He scrubbed his face, highlighting the dirt on his neck as he looked at the sky.

“How do you know I’m not just delaying my attack to put you at ease and make you pliable?”

“Pliable? Who uses the word pliable to discuss hurting women?”

He smirked, lips smiling, eyes not. “Me.”

“And who is me?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

I put my hands on my hips. “You know my name. What’s yours?”

He stumbled back. “You—you want to know my name?”

Was that a bad thing? Had he done something terrible and didn’t want anyone to know? “Isn’t it normal for strangers to share with another? That’s how they stop being strangers.”

He coughed, rubbing his nape. “Not where I’m from.”

“Where are you from?”

His shock faded, smothered once again with a cocky attitude. His shoulders came up, proud and standoffish. “You’re nosy.”

I bristled. “Only making conversation.”

“Well, don’t. Let’s just go, shall we?” He looked around the alley. “I hate places like this.”

I wanted to ask what sort of places were those, but I didn’t dare. Instead, I focused on how I could get home. “Will you walk with me?”

“You think I’ll protect you?”

~Well, yes.~

“You did before.”

“That was because I don’t agree with rape and robbery. Not because I have a hero complex. The minute you’re out of this alley, you cease to be my concern.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know why that hurt as much as it did. Straightening my back, I sucked up my fear, preparing to strike out on my own—like I always did. “Okay, then.

“Well…how much do taxis cost to get to Upper East Side?”

One eyebrow raised. “You live on the Upper East Side and have no idea how much taxis are?” He peered harder. “You don’t just work in an office for minimum wage, do you?”

I didn’t know why, but I wanted to maintain my identity as a low-income earner. I didn’t want to come across as bragging, or worse, rubbing his nose in it.

The longer we talked, the more I saw what his clothes hinted at.

He either lived rough or didn’t have a home.

He wasn’t like the homeless man I gave my dinner to—this man didn’t smell, and his clothes were cleanish (minus a few stains) even if they were a little holey.

But he had that scrapper look about him—a glare in his eyes, speaking of mistrust and hardship.

“Let’s agree to keep personal information secret, okay?” I asked. “You don’t want to tell me your name. I don’t want to tell you anything more.” I held up my hand.

“Agree to take me home, and we won’t ask questions. Deal?”

It took a little while, but he finally slipped his hand into mine and shook.

It took everything I had not to react to the desire crackling from his palm.

He smiled. “Deal.”