Free Yield by Cari Silverwood

again. Chances were he wasn’t who my hormones were trying to make him out to be.
    “Glass. Our biggest problem is that I need you to find my father’s killer. I don’t know how this...us will affect that.”
    “You’re saying you’d drop the ‘us’ in this deal if it meant a tidier world?”
    I’d put this out front and center. Did I really want that?
    “I’d rather both, Wren. I think you would too.”
    Huh. He was right. I would like to have both but I’d be a fool to let that be the basis of a business decision. I might’ve failed my father’s standards of negotiation, but I was still good.
    “Hugh would be horrified.” This was a security nightmare. I stared at my hand and his, now inches apart. But me? Glass had presented me with a whole new adventure. “Maybe we need distance?”
    “Should Hugh make your personal decisions?” His hand sliding away, he sank back in his chair. Though his expression was less open, he wasn’t needling me, much.
    If anything, being a couple would tie Glass closer to me, the same as it did me to him. That was cold logic.
    Could it backfire? I guessed so. But surely no worse than it might if we stayed distant? If anything, the more I came to know Glass, the more honorable he seemed to become. Perception only? Or was I affecting him?
    Now that would be odd.
    A true security nightmare would be him getting angry at my change of mind. No one knew where I was. I looked him over. I could do little if he decided to hurt me. This was, in a way, a test of character.
    Or a test of how much he wanted my money.
    Then again, he could get far more by ransoming me.
    Nightmare.
    “One day, that’s all. We’ve been in bed one day. I don’t even know your name. Is Glass even anything like it? Or Richard?”
    “Wren, here’s a truth.” He nodded. “If any other woman had baulked like you are, I would have walked away. I don’t need complications. Not normally.”
    “So my money is making you stay?”
    “Stop trying to anger me.”
    I found myself blushing.
    “You are making me stay. But I have men who rely on me to keep their names out of the news and off the radar of anyone who might want to harm them. Much of what we do relies on being low in visibility.”
    “That still means you won’t tell me your name. I don’t think...” I shut my eyes for a second, horrified at what I had to say. The loss was eating a hole in my stomach and I hadn’t even said it yet. “We can’t have a relationship, if I don’t know who you are.”
    The moment became some horrible, twisted, silent thing. I could feel something good and wonderful slipping from me. I wasn’t sure what I was doing. If I didn’t trust him, telling him I didn’t was stupid. Wasn’t it? I twined my hands together and my fingers went a funny mixture of white and pink from the pressure. Not looking at Glass seemed wise.
    Guess I didn’t deserve this. Happiness. Or a chance at it. Jesus, it was one night, but I was stupid thinking I could make myself think he meant nothing to me.
    I sighed. Messed up.
    One night in bed with him? He does mean nothing. It’s just my fantasies getting in the way.
    “I am Richard Oakham.” I jumped. The man had sneaked up behind me. “Thirty-nine years old. Born in Birmingham.” His hands landed heavily on my shoulders. “My nickname is Glass and it began as Glass Dick. I got that because a girlfriend sent me a glass dildo and half the bloody regiment saw it when it fell out of the packaging.
    “If...” He bent low, leaning his chin on my shoulder. “If you try to back out of this us, so help me god, I will spank you. Whether we are in a relationship or not. I’m trusting you Wren. Just not your Hugh. I can see you want to give this a go. Be brave. Do it. We can always tell each other to fuck off if it doesn’t work out.”
    Tears dribbled down my cheeks. I resisted wiping them away for a few seconds then I did, with my knuckle.
    “What have you done to me? I never