Page 13 of His Property

“Thirtydays! Um, how am I going toeatbetween now and then? I need money for that, Mr. Winters. Since you’re proposing I work for you exclusively.”

“You’ll eat here. Plenty of food, believe me. More than you could ever need. It’s yours, while you’re working.”

“Oh, that’s… that might be okay.” I hadn’t thought such a thing was even on the table, but the prospect of it was more appealing than I wanted to admit.

Winters continued. “But Iamwarning you. I’m demanding. I have high standards. And fuck-ups will result in correction.”

“Um, excuse me? Did you saycorrection?” I licked my suddenly dry lips. “Does that mean what it sounds like it means?”

“What does it sound like to you, Ms. Grant?”

“Stop answering my questions with a question!”

He only sipped from his drink though, a hint of mirth just curving his lips.

I kept pushing though. “I’m serious—what does that mean? Because it sounds a whole lot like—”

“Spanking? Yes, there is that, among other forms of corporal punishment. There are consequences for failure in this job. It’s true.”

I sat back, so stunned I seemed to have lost the ability to speak. Was he really stipulating such a thing?

Why weren’t you running screaming five seconds ago?

Yes, it was… a little outlandish. Or a lot. Even with that though, I was good at my job. ‘Screwing up’ wasn’t part of what I did. Never had been. Why was I going to worry about something that was unlikely to ever be necessary?

You really believe that?

What truly unsettled me was the fact my nipples had tightened to steel, and both the heat and wetness between my thighs were at their highest pitch yet.

But he still wasn’t done.

“Beyond the trial run, I need to be sure the candidate for this job will keep their word. That they aren’t the flaky sort to just give up whenever things get a little difficult, or they decide they don’t like the demands of the position.”

“Okay… what do you have in mind?”

He sipped the last of his liquor, then tipped his glass toward me. “A test, of sorts. Tonight, for the next hour or so, you do what I tell you. No matter what it is. I want to know how well you take to obeying orders from me. Do you think you can do that?”

I swallowed hard, willing my voice to stay steady. “What if I don’t? What if I say no?”

“Then I drive you back to your car, and the deal is off. For good.” He shrugged. “Not a problem for me, in that event. I’d rather know right at the start, then find out months later.”

I blew out a long breath, gazing across the huge room at the giant wall of built-ins, the immense flat screen that looked to be about the same size as my car.

How bad could it be? That’s serious money, Lola.

“I need your word,” he said, his voice little more than a murmur. “You can call it off at any time before the hour is up, and I’ll honor that. But just know that if you do, the deal’s off. We’d be finished—forever.” He rested his elbows on his thighs, lacing his fingers together between the span of his legs. “So, do I have your word?”

My heart was suddenly galloping along as I pondered it. I went back and forth on the answer a hundred times in the space of thirty seconds. Finally, I closed my eyes, then looked over at him, desperately trying to ignore my body’s paradoxical flight response, and the bead of wetness dripping slowly down my inner thigh.

He hadn’t said a single word to confirm this would be… like that. But my body, my instincts, seemed to have already concluded it would be. Or wanted it to be.

Do you?

I didn’t really know the answer to that. Yes, he was gorgeous. Yes, I was aroused… even if I wasn’t totally clear on what was sparking it. Yes, I needed the money. Badly.

More than that though, he’d piqued something else, which I had never, ever been able to resist.

Curiosity.

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