Free What He Demands (What He Wants, Book Three) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Hannah Ford Page A

him.
    I hated the thought of him looking at
other women, hating thinking that he might have been up there looking at that
girl’s ass and getting turned on.   The women in this club were extremely beautiful.   I knew as soon as Jared pulled the car
up in front that I was out of my element.
    I’d been to fancy bars before, of
course.   The place I’d been the
other night for Cora’s bachelorette party was nice.   But it was professional nice.   Classy.   The
kind of place lawyers and professionals went.
    The men here seemed like
professionals.   Or at least, they
seemed rich.   They were all wearing
sophisticated, expensive-looking clothing.   But the women looked like models.   Shiny hair, tiny waists, perfect complexions.   I was by far the biggest girl in the
room, and I instantly felt self-conscious.
    Everyone here was wearing designer
dresses, and I was wearing a tight little mini-dress that Julia probably got at
TJ Maxx.   I’d felt beautiful back
at the house when I was getting ready, but now I just felt out of place and
bumbling.
    I told myself it didn’t matter.   I wasn’t here to impress anyone, least
of all Noah.
    I marched over and slid into the booth
next to him.
    In an instant, he was next to me, his
body against me, his leg pushing into mine.   But I moved away so that I was out of his reach.
    “That’s how it’s going to be, huh?” he
said, smiling devilishly.   He
reached under the table and stroked my knee.   “Fine with me.   It’ll make it even sweeter.”
    I marveled at his change in tone, how
he’d been so vulnerable back in the lobby of my building, how he’d seemed like
he really wanted to let me in.   I
thought we’d be going to a nice restaurant, or a movie, or one of the million
of other places you could go on a first date.   But now, here we were again, in some fancy loud club, and
all he was thinking about was sex.
    His touch was sending heat pulsing
through my core, and I cursed him for being able to have such an effect on
me.  
    I reached into my messenger bag (I’d had
to bring it instead of the tiny little clutch—it didn’t match the outfit,
but some things were more important) and pulled out the file folder Professor
Worthington had given me, slamming it down on the table.
    “What’s this?” Noah asked, looking
dismayed.
    “Oh, nothing,” I said, flipping open the
folder and pulling out the photo, the one of Nora and Dani.   “Just an interesting picture of two
women you used to date, two women with the same marks on their wrists that I
have.”
    He picked up the photo and looked at it.
    I’d been replaying this moment in my head
the whole way over here.   At first I’d
thought that I wouldn’t even come, that I’d just leave Noah waiting.   I’d never talk to him again, I’d resign
from the case and build up my reputation with Professor Worthington through
hard work in his class.
    It was too dangerous.
    What were the chances that the two
murdered women had both dated Noah and had the same marks on their wrist at the
time of their death?   The marks
looked fresh, like maybe he’d just been with him.   Was that what he did?   Tied them up and fucked them until he got bored, then killed them and
tossed their bodies?  
    In the end, though, I decided to come
because I wanted to confront him.   I wanted to put the evidence right down in front of him.   I’d pictured us in a restaurant though,
the kind of place where he’d tell me to keep my voice down and get a panicked
look on his face before begging me not to call the police.
    You came because you wanted him to
convince you it wasn’t him.
    I ignored that thought and waited for
Noah’s explanation.
    He glanced at the photo as if it were
nothing, then placed it back in the folder before sliding it back across the
table toward me.
    “Is that why you came here tonight,
Charlotte?”   He took a sip of his
drink and regarded me over the table, his gaze piercing.  
    “What do you