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I blink. Two weeks’ notice, just like with a regular job. Would he require me to punch a timecard, too? Which gets me thinking…
“And am I obligated to see you whenever you want me?”
He looks confused. “I’m not requiring you to give up your life.”
“But what if you want to see me and I have other plans? Would your desire to see me supplant that?”
“I’d like to be given favorable consideration, at least. If you have something important, of course, like school or some family event, that’s one thing. But I would rank at the top of the priority list.”
“Hmm.” I put my hand to my chin as if thinking about it. “What about advance notice? One week.”
His eyes harden. “No.”
I pause, waiting for him to come up with his terms, but he doesn’t. He’s onto me, apparently. In any negotiation, you are supposed to play hard ball and wait for the other party to come back to you with softer terms. I swallow.
“What do you like then?” I ask.
He swirls the wine in his half-drunk glass, staring into it for a moment. “Twenty-four hours.”
“A day? No way. Seventy-two.”
He pins me down, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Twenty-four hours.”
I pause, watch as he downs the rest of his wine and then places the glass on the table, running a long finger up and down the stem—the same finger that was buried deep inside me this morning. I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry.
“So how does the contract protect you?” I ask, mostly to change the subject but partly because I’m dying to pin him down on something. A guy this brilliant, this gorgeous, this fantastically rich, must be a whackadoo to want a contracted bedmate, or girlfriend or whatever you’d call it.
“Well, aside from your continued discretion, of course, the contract sets up…boundaries. Boundaries which are important—essential—to me. It’s a physical relationship. A camaraderie. Even a friendship.”
A smile dances on my mouth. “But love isn’t allowed?”
He’s not smiling anymore. “There will be no talk of love at all.”
I raise my brows, surprised. “Save for the fact that you are banning it. And you think signing a paper would prevent this?”
His head tilted slightly, his eyes somber. “I think that you have a brilliant head on your shoulders, Madeline, and are unlikely to let your heart get carried away by silly fancies. Am I right?”
I swallow and look away, briefly thinking of Jason, my ex. Did I even have a heart left after he had so callously shattered it?
“I have a feeling you and I are of the same mind on the subject of love,” he says.
The server brings us our dinner, and we begin to eat in silence for several long minutes. I heartily cut into my steak, and when I put the first bite in my mouth, I can’t help but groan. It melts in my mouth and tastes amazing.
Evan watches me with hooded eyes. “You haven’t touched your wine. Are you afraid you won’t trust yourself?”
I take a deep breath. “You could say that.”
I don’t trust myself one little bit, as a matter of fact. His words from the car still ring in my head, Who knows what we’ll get up to tonight?
I know what my body wants us to get up to, so I have to rely on my wits and my sharp mind to keep me out of trouble. That means that wine is definitely out…
Because I need every resource I have available to me to keep up with Mr. Evan Kohl.
Chapter 13
Firm Boundaries
“Just so we are clear,” I say after a few more minutes of enjoying the amazing steak, “we don’t get to do anything until after I sign this contract?”
