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"Then why don't we do this?" She grabbed her coat, silently cursing herself and her stupid pride. What did it matter if he knew she was nervous? Hell, would it matter if he knew she was straight up terrified? Or why she faux-hated him?

Yes, a part of her screamed, all those things would matter. Deeply. Better to get it over with. To rip off the Band-Aid.

She hadn't slept with anyone in two years, and now it felt like she was giving him a second go at her virginity. Not that that would change anything. For all she knew, he'd just shown up tonight to get what he came for.

But how would she feel afterward? And why had that totally not occurred to her until now?

It was only sex. Eliza was right. It was just a biological urge. It didn't have to be special.

But still...After so long...

When they were in the elevator on the way up to the room, Brooks stood beside her, just close enough for their arms to brush against each other. A tingle of electricity shot through her at the feel, but she shrugged it off.

"It's going to be fine, Natalie."

For some reason, she was still determined to seem as nonchalant as ever. "I know that. Did you need me to tell you? Because I'm totally fine."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Yeah, I've never been better."

"Great."

The door clanged open and Brooks led her directly to the double doors across the hall. "This is us."

He opened the doors and led her in. It was a standard luxury suite. A living room and wide king bed with plush linens. In the bathroom, there was probably a jetted tub and Egyptian cotton towels. The only thing that surprised her was the bucket of champagne chilling beside the couch.

"Not impressed?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Are your dates normally?"

"Why do I feel like 'yes' is the wrong answer?"

"Probably because I'm not like those other girls. The champagne is a nice touch, though." She nodded toward the bucket. "Very Pretty Woman, considering the whole exchanging my body for goods and services aspect of this deal."

He chuckled. "Is that the way you see it?"

"Isn't that what this is?"

"It doesn't have to be."

"No?"

"I never agreed to that. Neither did you. I only asked you here tonight." He uncorked the champagne. "The idea of forcing you here for a deal is a little unsavory. Even for me."

She swallowed. Every word he said was true. She'd come here on her own. She'd decided on it.

So why did she feel like she was still the newest chicken in the lion's den?

And why did that thrill her to the core?

Chapter Five

He poured a glass of champagne then held it out, but instead of taking it, she only stared at his hand, then his eyes, and his hand again.

"I didn't poison it." He promised.

"I know." Her voice was softer than he'd ever heard it before, but it wasn't in seduction or arousal. No, it was awkwardness. And fear.

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