“Buffalo meat!” Lou Tennyson’s booming voice echoed in the narrow corridor. “There is a plant in North Dakota you should take a look at. Small company now, but in your hands?” The portly seventy-something-year old let out another laugh. “You could—”
“Lou!”
Jared heard Lucy’s voice and glanced up from his cell. He’d listened to his long-time client’s thoughts on buffalos while reading through little Lucy Linden’s message to Philip Ryder for a third time. He could picture Lucy murmuring, “I’m a handcuff virgin” in a voice that was meant for his ears only. Hell, that one line of text had driven his conversation with a major investor off a cliff.
His so-called Handcuff Virgin walked up to Mr. Tennyson and planted a kiss on his cheek. Jared slipped his cell back into his pocket and fought the urge to grind his teeth.
Not the “rescue” I had in mind, princess.
“Did you see the pictures from your granddaughter’s party?” Lucy rested her hand on Lou Tennyson’s shoulder. “I thought the fairy photo shoot was an excellent idea.”
Lou Tennyson nodded. “My daughter printed a few out for me. I have one on my desk of Claire wearing her wings. I’m sorry I missed the big event.”
His client took ahold of Lucy’s hand and raised it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her fingers and Jared’s common sense shorted out.
Drunk dad hands.
He reached for Lucy, needing to draw her away from the grandfather who’d bellowed “Buffalo Meat” in the country club corridor before kissing his handcuff virgin.
“Speaking of fairies,” Jared said, his hand closing around Lucy’s free wrist. “I have a potential client for you. Her daughter loves Tinker Bell. Why don’t I introduce you?”
Lucy smiled and nodded as she stepped closer to Jared, forcing Lou to release her other hand. “Of course. I love meeting new clients.”
“Good.” Jared issued a curt nod to his client. “I’ll send Finn over to discuss the details. He handles the acquisitions. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Yes, yes,” Mr. Tennyson called after them. “Send Phineas Linden over.”
“Finn hates it when anyone calls him Phineas,” Lucy murmured.
“He’ll survive.” Jared steered them to the double doors marked exit. “Thanks for saving me. I’ve never eaten buffalo, and I don’t plan to buy a processing plant in North Dakota.”
“I did my best.” She nodded to the man still standing in the corridor behind them. “But you’re the one who executed the extraction.”
“Drunk dad hands,” Jared said. “Or granddad hands in his case.”
She laughed. “Lou’s teetering on the edge of intoxicated, but he’s never disorderly. What you witnessed back there? The kiss? He was playing the gentleman. You didn’t need to pull me away. He’s really very sweet.”
I don’t want him touching you.
But he kept the thought to himself. He didn’t have the right to tell her who would kiss her hand, and he damn well knew it.
Lucy’s cell vibrated as they pushed through the doors separating the pool deck from the club’s noisy interior. He stopped on the stone pavers that filled in the space between the locked cabanas, the outdoor bar, and the pool.
“Need to get that?” he asked mildly.
She withdrew her cell from her purse. He held his breath and mentally replayed his response about the damn handcuffs.
Not mine. Fucking Philip Ryder promised to keep the handcuffs on his desk until she was ready.
Philip Ryder had also typed some corny-ass line about how the bondage didn’t lead to happy-ever-after. Hell, he’d even signed off Your Prince-No Bondage Required. If there was a direct path to that mythical place, he was willing to bet it wasn’t through handcuffs. But he knew more about princess movies thanks to Lucy and co., than fifty shades.
Jared had hit send on the Fated for Love message while standing in front of Lou Tennyson. And he’d waited for a response, wondering what he would do if he’d read the situation wrong and Lucy wanted the handcuffs to be part of the bargain.
“A text from one of the princesses?” he asked. He stepped closer in order to gauge her reaction.
The Olympic-sized body of water glowed under a sliver of moonlight. Apart from the pool’s soft light and the moon’s half-hearted attempt to play peek-a-boo with the cloudy night sky, the club’s main daytime attraction was cloaked in darkness.
But he could make out her profile as she wove her way through the empty lounge chairs and read. A gentle smile graced her lips, and her expression softened.