“Your what?”
“You can help me become more independent. Coach me in the things I should be aware of. I don’t want to have to rely on servants for everything. I want to be able to function like a normal man, if I have to. You can help me with that,” he said, and then added, “For twenty-five dollars an hour. Sleepovers optional.”
“You’re serious?”
“I am.”
“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay. I can do that. I can help you.” A small smile returned to her mouth. “What do we do first?”
He thought for a moment, and remembered what Maylee had said. “A vacation, I think.”
“But . . . aren’t you already on vacation? Where do you want to go?”
He cast about for an answer. Her gaming laptop sat on one of the nearby desks, the screen flashing on the Excelsior Convention ad. It was happening this upcoming weekend. He knew, because Taylor had mentioned that a few guild-mates were going and so her group had to change some of their plans to work around the missing people. “We’re going to the Excelsior Convention.”
She gasped. “We . . . we are?”
He nodded, surprised that she wasn’t more excited. “I figure if I’m going to be on your team, I need to immerse myself in the culture. The convention seems like a good way of doing so.”
“The convention’s going to be a bit of game-culture overkill,” she murmured dryly. “But if you want to go, I’m up for it.”
“Fantastic.” Somehow he’d thought she would have been more excited, but it didn’t matter. It was just going to be the two of them, away on vacation, and an opportunity to get closer to each other. He could use this time to impress her, to woo her, and then make her see that they needed to marry.
Temporarily, of course.
***
HaveANiceTay: Hey, about this weekend . . . I’m not going to be on.
Sigmund: What? You’re not?? What’s going on?
HaveANiceTay: Remember the Excelsior convention? My new roomie got tickets! We’re flying out.
Sigmund: Brunhilde? She got you guys tickets?
HaveANiceTay: Um, yep. So can you run the guild raid?
Sigmund: :(
HaveANiceTay: What is it?
Sigmund: You guys are sure spending a lot of time together.
HaveANiceTay: Well, we’re living together?
Sigmund: I just miss you.
HaveANiceTay: Don’t do this . . .
Sigmund: Sorry. I’m being selfish. Go to the convention. Have fun. Tell everyone from the guild I said hello, all right? I’ll handle things here.
HaveANiceTay: If you’re sure . . . ?
Sigmund: Of course. You need some time off. :)
HaveANiceTay: I really could use a vacation. You have no idea how much.
Sigmund: What’s going on?
HaveANiceTay: A lot. I can’t talk about it right now, but suffice to say . . . a vacation sounds really nice.
Sigmund: Enjoy the con, then. I’ll just text you if I need anything.
HaveANiceTay: Feel free to play my toons!
Sigmund: Have fun.
Chapter Eleven
Taylor refused to feel guilty about going on vacation with Loch. He was her new boss, right? Made perfect sense that if he wanted company on a trip, he would have her go with him. And if he wanted to charter a private jet so they could fly in style, well, that was all right with her, too. It was his money.
And the fact that he managed to somehow score a massive suite at the convention hotel? Well, he was her employer and if he wanted to travel in style, he certainly could. The fact that she was going to be staying in the room with him? Icing on the cake.
Great sex plus living the high life? Yes, please.
Of course, they hadn’t had sex again yet. After he’d found her crying from losing her job, she’d been too mentally exhausted and had ended up falling asleep with her head in his lap. The next day had been a whirlwind of trying to get tickets to the convention—which was apparently sold out—and booking hotel rooms and flights. But now they were on their way, and she was sipping a margarita on a comfy leather chair in a private jet while Loch napped nearby.
She couldn’t sleep. Her mind was whirling with a dozen different things.
She’d be sharing a room with Loch. That didn’t bother her. In fact, she was looking forward to that now that her period was long gone. She clamped her thighs together tight just thinking about it. She and Loch had just fit together so perfectly right from the start. It felt as if she’d known him forever. She could see herself with someone like him on a permanent basis, but that might have been wishful thinking on her part. He was male perfection, and she was just a bit of a goofball. Of course she wanted to be with someone like him—the question was, why would he want to be with someone like her longer than a fling or two? There wasn’t much of a reason, so she was determined to just enjoy him while she had him, and try not to get too attached.
Of course, it might have already been too late for her with that part. He was just . . . so great. She looked over at him as he slept, a dreamy expression on her face. Handsome, smart, athletic, loaded, funny . . . and into her video game hobbies. It was like someone had taken her geek wish list and made it come to life.
There had to be a catch. Of course, she hadn’t found one yet, which meant that he was probably perfect in a million ways and would be tired of her soon.
So she just had to take this for what it was—a mindless fling.
The job thing would make it tricky, though. Taylor sipped her margarita and looked out the window at the clouds dotting the sky. He’d agreed to pay her twenty-five dollars an hour, and they’d not talked about it much more than that, but Loch had also professed to not being very cognizant of his own funds. What if that was too much money? What about benefits? Was he going to cut her a check or pay her in cash? For how long was this job going to go on? For how many hours a week? There were so many things to discuss, and she worried about bringing them up. What if it ruined this fledgling thing they had between them? She didn’t want that.