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“That is your choice. Half-a-million to date me for a week and sleep with me every night, whip included.”
Her stomach crunched. She was desperate, but she wasn’t that desperate. One night of losing a piece of herself had been one thing, but a whole week?
She cleared her throat. “And my other choice?”
“Half a million in advance. Then fifty percent of the profits are mine for the next ten years.”
She gaped. It was like being caught between a rock and a hard place. Seven days of no doubt sickening sexual acts or the next ten years of her life giving this man fifty percent of her hard earned profits? But without his half-million would she even have a business?
And what about Liam? Does he get any say in this?
A shiver went up and down her spine that she even considered his feelings in her future. He was as likely to walk away from her as everyone else in her life had. Only her dad had stuck around and even he’d died on her thanks to his stroke.
She lifted her chin. This was her life, her fight. “I’d need to see both options in writing before even considering signing either one of them.”
He nodded. “Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from an astute business woman.”
“There may be...negotiations.”
His eyes flashed, anger then superseded by admiration. “I’ll have something written up for you in a few hours.” He stood, then reached over and took her closest hand in his. He lifted it to his mouth and kissed the back of her knuckles. “I look forward to doing business with you.”
She frowned. She hadn’t signed any contract yet, but he clearly thought she wouldn’t refuse. What sane woman would?
“Business?” Liam asked behind her.
Sheikh Korian smirked. “Business hopefully mixed with pleasure.” He held her hand a little longer than necessary and said, “Your decision, Harper.” Then he released her and walked away, his coffee and muffin left untouched.
Chapter Thirteen
Liam felt broken, betrayed. Destroyed.
Harper pushed to her feet, her face flushed and her golden-brown eyes glittering. She’d never looked more damn beautiful. “Liam. H-how is your sister?”
“Besides two broken ribs, a broken leg and a whole lot of cuts and bruises, she’s in remarkably good spirts.” Unlike him. “But there’s no need for you to pretend to care now.”
She gaped, her big brown-gold eyes wounded. “That’s a horrible thing to say,” she whispered.
