As I step out of the room now, the image of her confidently complying to my heavy-handed command runs on repeat in my head.
Her high, firm breasts studded with tight pink nipples. Long, lean legs crowned with a modestly trimmed thatch of light curls covering her sex. Miles of milky skin I’m certain will feel as soft as velvet under my hands, my lips, my tongue.
And a scar hinting at something more than just a badly healed physical wound.
I’d been struck mute and stupid with lust as she took off her dress and underwear. I told her I’d been picturing her unclothed since that first night. That much was true, but I’d been wrong to think I was prepared to see her in the flesh.
She is exquisite. Sexy as fucking hell.
She’s broken in places, too. That scar is only trace evidence of bigger things she doesn’t want me to see. I’d be lying to myself if I said it didn’t intrigue me as much as her outward beauty and sharp intellect.
She should have snapped up my offer to end this game before it begins. The fact that she stood firm didn’t surprise me. She’s too loyal, too strong. She may even be a little desperate, though whether it’s for the money to spare Daniel or herself, I’m not sure. Regardless, she wouldn’t have come here in the first place if she wasn’t fully prepared to adhere to the terms of our contract.
Evidently, retreating is no more in her nature than it is in mine.
God help her for that, because now that I’ve seen her it’s too late for either one of us to turn back. She only thinks she can’t stand me now; when this is over, I’m certain she’s going to hate me. And rightfully so.
A low curse grinds past my clenched teeth as I close the French doors behind me.
One of my household staff notices me and approaches from another area of the penthouse. “Is everything all right with your breakfast, Mr. Rush?”
Her cheerful smile dims when she sees my thunderous expression. I don’t have the patience to smooth my scowl, particularly not when I’m still sporting an erection along with my surly attitude.
“No one goes in this room without first getting my permission, Carolina.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll convey your instructions to the rest of the staff at once.”
I nod curtly, dismissing her to carry out my order. Threatening to allow any of my employees to barge in on Melanie while she was undressed had been another cheap shot. It was also a bluff. I would never do that to her, but I need her to understand she’s in my world now.
I need her to understand that I’m the one in control, no matter how thin that control is already proving to be.
Retrieving my phone from the pocket of my jeans, I start tapping out a text to my personal assistant to arrange for my driver and a private charter service to East Hampton airport. I’ve barely typed the first couple of words when a call from Nate interrupts.
He’s here at the house today, working on contracts in my office downstairs. For all he knows I’m still in a closed-door breakfast session with Melanie, so this can’t be good news. I abandon the text and answer my lawyer’s call.
“What’s going on, Nate?”
He clears his throat. “Sorry for the call, but we have a situation.”
“What kind of situation?”
“Alyssa. She seems pretty upset.”
Shit. Just what I don’t need to deal with right now. Unfortunately, I don’t have much choice. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. She’s asking to see you, Jared. She’s down here in the office.”
“You mean she’s at the house right now?”
Behind me, the French doors open and Melanie steps out. Fuck. Talk about even more bad timing.
Every article of her clothing is fixed in place as primly and perfectly as it was when she arrived, her clear gaze leveled on me with the same disapproval and mistrust.
The bright flush of color in her cheeks is new, though, and I’m not sure if that heat is directed at me in outrage or something else. After the way I just treated her inside that room, I wouldn’t be surprised to feel the heat of her palm striking my face in another second.
I wrench my focus back to the other problem at hand.
“Did Alyssa say what she needs?”
“You know her. She only wants to talk to you. She looks like shit, Jared.”
I curse under my breath. When I glance at Melanie I am met with a scathing look of rebuke—and not a little amusement.
“I’m sorry,” Nate says. “I should’ve told her you were tied up for the day. I’ll take care of it—”
“No.” My answer is clipped, but firm. “Tell her to stay put. I’ll be right down.”
“Female trouble?” Melanie asks as soon as I end the call, challenge gleaming in her stare.
I’m tempted to explain, but that would mean blurring the line that’s been drawn between us in the sand today. Besides, Alyssa is my personal business. I’m not going to air her problems in public any more than I would my own. Where mine are concerned, Melanie Laurent has already seen more than I’d like.
I slip my phone back into my pocket. “As much as I was looking forward to getting started with you, Ms. Laurent, unfortunately, it will have to wait until tomorrow.”
I can hardly say she looks disappointed.
“Eight o’clock,” I tell her. “I don’t expect you’ll be a second late.”
“Why would I be? The sooner you start your painting, the sooner we can be done with each other.”
I grunt, stifling a smile. “Come, I’ll walk you out.”
She refuses my gesture to accompany her. “Don’t bother, I know the way. It sounds like you have your hands full enough as it is.”
Without waiting
