The Man Who Has No Soul Read online Victoria Quinn (Soulless #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Soulless Series by Victoria Quinn
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
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Two hundred pounds of all man.

He turned back to his computer.

I grabbed the checkbook. “Is this a small account?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to—”

“I trust you.” He turned back to me, giving me his gaze again.

I heard what he said, and he had no idea how much those words meant to me, how much I strived to gain the confidence of my clients, to know they could rely on me to have their best interests at heart. He had been such a jerk to me when I’d offered to do this months ago, and now he had a completely different reaction. “Thank you…” I took the checkbook and the bills that I’d just laid down.

He continued to stare at me.

“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about…” I pulled out the chair and took a seat.

He watched me, his dark eyes a little lighter when the sunlight drenched his face.

“When your brother moved out…he asked me out.”

He didn’t have any reaction at all.

“He said you were okay with it.”

He was still unresponsive.

“Are you okay with it?”

His hand reached for his laptop, and he closed it. “I’m sure you can retain your professionalism in the situation.”

That didn’t answer my question. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—”

“If you like him, date him. Do you like him?” His elbows rested on the table with his forearms reached out, the cords under his skin visible.

I hadn’t dated anyone since Jake. His affair broke my heart, but I refused to let it get me down. I decided to stay busy instead, keep my mind focused so I wouldn’t feel the pain. That’d been a few months ago now. I didn’t usually date much because I just didn’t have the time. Having a personal relationship with Tucker never crossed my mind, even if he was funny and sexy. He was a more approachable version of Deacon, more normal, more relatable. But for whatever reason, I still felt more comfortable with Deacon, even when he said barely a few words to me.

When I didn’t answer the question, he continued. “It’s not up to me, Cleo. Date him. Don’t date him. Makes no difference to me.” He grabbed the top of his laptop and opened it again, dismissing the conversation.

I felt like he’d slapped me.

His indifference was painful in an inexplicable way. I didn’t know what I’d expected from him. I didn’t know why I expected him to care in the first place. There were only a handful of things in life he cared about—and I didn’t make the cut.

He was just a client…why did I care?

Why did this bother me?

“Alright…then I’m going to go out with him.”

He read the words on the screen, ignoring me.

I got to my feet and held his mail to my chest. “I’ll take care of this and email you a copy of everything.”

He continued his indifference. His behavior was typical, normal. But it felt tense this time, awkward, like our usual connection had been severed with a knife.

I turned to the door. “Have a good day, Deacon.”

He didn’t say anything back.

Fourteen

Cleo

The waitress took us to a booth in the restaurant.

We both sat down, ordered some wine, and then were alone together.

Tucker wore a black shirt, his chest, arms, and shoulders all stretching the fabric in a manly way. His skin was a fairer complexion than his brother’s, which was interesting because Deacon seemed too busy to be outside often. He grabbed his glass and took a drink. “Nervous?”

I hadn’t said much since we’d met outside the restaurant. “Sorry…I just don’t do this a lot.”

“Interact with other humans?” he asked. “Because you seem to do that a lot at work.”

“No,” I said with a laugh. “Date.”

“Really?” he asked in surprise. “A beautiful woman like you?”

My clients didn’t hit on me, and neither did my colleagues. And since I didn’t have much of a social life, there was really no opportunity for anyone to ever be interested in me. “I work long hours.”

“I get it. I usually work mornings at the hotel, but afternoons quickly stretch to evenings, and when clients need something…you’ve got to be there.”

We did have a lot in common.

He clinked his glass against mine. “To work.”

I smiled and clinked my glass against his. “To work.”

He took a drink then addressed the waitress when she came to the table. “I’m going to have the tacos.” He handed the menu over.

I hadn’t had time to glance at it. “I’ll have the same.”

She took our menus and left.

“Maybe on our second date, we’ll try Taco Bell.”

“That’s more of a third or fourth date type of thing…”

He laughed at my joke. “So, what’s it like taking care of a bunch of billionaires?”

“Not much different from taking care of the people at your hotel.”

“Nah, it’s totally different.”

I would never say anything bad about a client, so I only had a diplomatic response. “It keeps me busy. I never have to worry about the job getting stale because I’m met with unexpected challenges all the time. A lot of my clients are nice, so that’s icing on the cake.”


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