Crown of Lies

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 jean’s pocket. “Do you mean these?” He fanned the cash and my I.D 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?