Until I'm Yours by Kennedy Ryan Page A

in front of him and linking his hands behind his head, his casual posture not fooling me. “So what’ll it take for you to agree to this? We can’t put any of this in writing. It has to stay off the books, but I trust you.”
    “Why do you trust me?” He can trust me, but I’m interested to know how he figured that out so quickly.
    “Let’s just say I never go into a deal without knowing who I’m dealing with.”
    I’ve heard that anyone working with Walsh should expect to have their past and present excavated because he digs so deeply.
    “So what’ll it take?”
    I love it when opportunities fall into my lap like apples. Harold and I had already decided we would wait for their next move, that we’d stick with Bennett for now. I’m getting something I want in exchange for something I was already prepared to give Walsh. It’s great being me. I also love that as prepared as Walsh likes to think he is, and as much as he likes to think he has dug up on me, I’m about to take him completely by surprise.
    “We’ll stay in play if you give me Sofie Baston’s number.”
    Walsh just blinks at me for a few seconds, until the request registers. A frown settles between his eyebrows. His mouth tightens.
    “I don’t think that—”
    “That’s it. Not much to ask.”
    “Sofie?” Walsh’s frown goes deeper if possible. “Sofie Baston?”
    “About this tall.” I bring my hand up as high as my nose. “Legs that go on forever. I think you know her.”
    “Look, Bishop, I get it.” Walsh grins at me. “Sofie’s beautiful, obviously. And lots of guys—”
    “I don’t care about lots of guys.” My voice comes out harder than I expected. Obviously harder than Walsh did, too, judging by the sharp look he levels at me. “You give me that number, or today we start calling all the other companies prepared to meet our terms.”
    “That doesn’t make any conventional business sense.”
    “Says the man ambushing me in a steam room to do business wearing nothing but a towel. Neither of us got where we are being conventional. We both know what we want, and go after it.”
    “And you want Sofie?”
    “Obviously.” I don’t sprinkle sugar on it. I don’t explain it to him because it’s none of his damn business what I want with Sofie.
    “I wouldn’t have pegged you—”
    “Trying to peg me would be a mistake, Bennett. Waste of your time and insulting to me.”
    Walsh stands up, gripping the ends of his towel together at one hip.
    “I’ll get you the number, but let me warn you.” He turns at the door. “I know Sofie seems tough, but she’s been through a lot. Guys have hurt her in the past.”
    “Like you did?” The question is a dart I aim through the scented air.
    Walsh might punch me if he could. Only the business we still have pending, the twenty pounds and couple of inches I have on him, probably stop him.
    “Yeah, like I did,” he finally responds. “Sofie and I grew up together, and dating her was a mistake, but we’re still friends. She’s not an easy woman to know.”
    I hope the smile I give Walsh doesn’t come off as cocky, because right now I’m feeling pretty satisfied with myself.
    “Which is why I need your help.”
    “One more thing, Bishop.” Walsh angles his head down, looking at me from beneath a slash of dark brows. “Because of my, shall we say research, I think I know what you want to do next.”
    “Next?” I focus on keeping the line of my shoulders even and relaxed. “Not sure what you mean.”
    “One of the things I admire about you most is that you, like me, actually want to change the world, and are foolish enough to think you can do it. You understand that even as much good as Deutimus is doing, it’s sometimes like blowing on a wildfire.”
    He presses his back to the door, pushing it ajar and releasing some of the steamy air trapped in the room.
    “You need to work from inside, to be in a position to influence those corrupt bastards leading these countries