“And she’s agreed to this?”
“Getting there.” He just needed to turn on the charm a bit more once he knew she wasn’t hurting from her wounds.
“Is she a fortune hunter? Because—”
“Nah. I’ll get my accountants on it. Have a nice prenup.” He frowned, thinking. “I don’t suppose you know how much money I have, do you?”
The man sputtered. “How should I know?”
He was right. Fair enough. “So, will that work? Give it a few weeks post-marriage and think it’ll be safe for me to return?”
“Loch—my lord, be reasonable.” Franz sounded miserable. “Do not do this. Think of your great-aunt the queen. Would she approve?”
“I think she would, given that I’m taking steps to ensure that her granddaughter is not overthrown.”
Franz sighed. “This feels hasty to me. My lord, it isn’t necessary. Relax. Enjoy your stay in the States. Buy yourself a nice town house and be a visible Bellissime presence over in America. Win them over with your charm. When things are settled here, then you can come home. Is three years really so long a time?”
Funny how the time seemed to get longer every time he talked to the man. Now it was three years? It just convinced Loch even more that his idea was the right one.
Marry Taylor. Go home. Everyone would be happy. “My mind’s made up. Let my great-aunt know my plans. I’ll keep in touch once I’ve married.”
“My lord—”
Loch hung up. He’d heard enough protests. It was a good plan.
Now to go woo his sweet, daffy American.
He grabbed his water bottle and pocketed his phone, heading back to the hotel. It was a few cross-streets away, but considering he’d just jogged for the last two hours, it was not so long a walk. Certainly not worth getting on the subway all sweaty, not with a breeze blowing. He walked, whistling to himself, and almost passed the homeless man without seeing him.
Then, he stopped.
There were no people living on the streets in Bellissime. They were a small, wealthy country with a tiny populace. Even the poor had assistance from the government and were given menial jobs and cheap housing. The man seated on the street was covered head to toe in dirty, worn clothing. He had a ragged beard, a baseball cap shoved down over shaggy hair, and held a cup in his hand. A garbage bag sat on the sidewalk next to him.
Loch paused. He headed over to the man and opened his wallet, then pulled out the hundred-dollar bill. “Here.”
The man took it, looked at it, then handed it back. “Can’t take that.”
“Why not?”
The man looked up at Loch. His face was lined and dirty, but there was a proud set to his expression. “I try to take that anywhere and they’re going to think it’s a fake. Or they’re going to think I stole it. Guys like me only get small change.”
He dug through his wallet, but he only had more hundreds. Damn. “I don’t have anything else.”
The man grunted. “You tried. More than most people do. Thanks anyhow.”
Loch hesitated. “May I ask—”
“Nope.” The man looked down the street.
Oh. He felt a little embarrassed. The man was probably asked the same thing all the time. As he watched several people pass by without even glancing at the man, he felt . . . unhappy. This felt wrong to him, but he didn’t know how to fix it. “Can I buy you lunch at least?”
“You can give me five bucks and I’ll get my own lunch,” the man said. “Otherwise, I’m not interested.”
“Right.” Loch headed down the street. He went into the nearest deli, purchased a sandwich and a drink, broke the hundred, and then returned. The man was still there, gazing off into the distance. Loch put the change from the hundred in the man’s cup, left the bag with the sandwich and drink. The man tipped his hat in thanks.
It still didn’t feel right. He watched as people hurried past, and felt dirty. He needed to do more. But what?
He didn’t have any answers. Suddenly, his own problems felt rather petty, though.
***
Living with Loch was kind of awesome, Taylor decided. Well, when things weren’t completely awkward, that was.
Sometimes it was great. The bed was awesome, the pillows fluffy as air. The bathtub and the toiletries he’d gotten for her were out of this world. Plus, it was fun to just hang around the hotel room and work with another person around. She didn’t realize how lonely her job could be until she looked up and would see Loch making a face at her, and then her whole day would brighten.
There were a few snags, of course. Loch was sleeping on the couch still. She wasn’t thrilled with that, but she also wasn’t sure about snuggling up to him with her girl stuff going on in full force. He’d never said a peep about it, but she was acutely aware of the situation. It was his hotel room and she was in the bed, not him. Add in the fact that they were extremely platonic and she hated that they were? It made things awkward. She wanted to tell him about her “Aunt Flo” situation but every time she tried to broach the subject, she clammed up. It was really, really hard to tell a sexy man that you were bleeding.
The thing that bothered her most wasn’t that, oddly enough; it was that she was spending so much time on the computer. She’d worked late for two shifts in a row, and when that was done, she’d logged on to Excelsior to spend time with her guild and to get Sigmund off her back. Each hour on the computer felt like pure torture, because she wanted to spend time with Loch as he watched movies, or read books, caught a game, or even when he went jogging. Instead, she felt chained to her laptop.