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“Do what?” Cole asked.
She didn’t want to play games. She had been a member of the Mantelli family long enough to know how these arrangements worked. She had witnessed them, but never thought she would actually be part of one. These were the kinds of things that happened to other people—not her. She had done everything she could to stay out of the business since last year.
“I won’t sleep with you,” she hissed. “Neither of you.”
Deacon chuckled. It was enough to make her want to lunge at him. He had a sexy smile, that made him even more irritating. Did women find his cockiness attractive? Was that how he got his reputation.
“I’m only offering drinks,” Cole stated. “How about a glass of wine so we can talk? No sex right now. I promise. We are at the office, my dear.”
She didn’t want to move an inch in their direction. She didn’t like how they mocked her. Or how apparent their sex appeal was. They had to be close to 6’3” or 6’4”. Deacon was slightly taller than Cole. Along with the height came broad shoulders and chiseled jaws. If she didn’t know better, she could have mistaken them from brothers. One with light features. The other with dark.
“Come on, sweetheart.” Deacon opened a hand toward her. “We won’t bite. We want to talk. Let’s get to know each other a little.”
“I was sold into an arrangement without my consent by my cousin, stuffed in the trunk of a car, dragged in here against my will, and you think cocktail hour is a problem I need to consider? And I hate martinis.”
“That answers one question.” Cole corked the gin and poured a glass of deep red wine. “It sounds like if anyone needs a drink, it would be you. Here. Drink.”
She stormed over to the bar. “Fine.” She snatched the goblet from his hand.
“Good. I hope you enjoy it. Let’s sit.” He pointed to an open chair for her.
Abby took a sit and assessed her new set of captors. Her heart still pounded, but after a sip of wine, she was calm enough to consider a conversation rather than arguing. The rage had settled to a low boil.
Deacon’s dark gaze was distracting. His eyes trailed all over her body. It made her feel strangely uncomfortable and attractive at the same time. Cole didn’t make things any better. His blue eyes were like something out of a movie. She had never seen blue that color before.
They were certainly an upgrade from Johnson and his burly hands.
She took another gulp of wine. Maybe getting drunk was the answer.
“Abby, Deacon and I want you to know you are our guest during this arrangement.”
“Guest?” she sputtered on the wine. “A guest who can never leave? A guest who didn’t accept an invitation?”
She saw the look that transpired between them.
“We don’t have that level of trust yet,” Cole explained. “The terms of the arrangement are that you are to remain in Deacon’s custody for thirty days. I don’t see why as time goes by you can start to have more freedom to come and go. That has to be earned of course.”
Her eyes darted to Deacon. “This is your debt Cal has to pay? You wanted a prisoner?”
He nodded. He didn’t bother to hide his smile. “The best game of poker I’ve ever won.”
“Poker? I’m here because of poker? A stupid game of poker,” she muttered under her breath.
Cole shook his head. “Jesus, Deac. Do you have to be an ass from the get-go?” He traded seats so he could sit next to Abby. Cole seemed to be the more level-headed one between the two.
“Deacon and I are business partners. Co-CEOs to be exact.”
“I know all about HiTech Global. I hate to admit it, but I used to study your graphic arts department.” She bit her tongue. She had studied more than their graphics, but that was a secret she had to keep.
“Really?”
Abby nodded. “I said I used to.” That was in the past.
Cole bit the inside of his cheek and turned toward Deacon. “What’s your background Abby?”
“Are you saying you didn’t get a bid sheet on me?” she mocked.
“I was hoping for something more personal than that.”
