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"You’re right about one thing. It is a market."
She shuffles her weight from foot to foot. "I’ve no idea what you’re talking about."
"I’ll pay a million dollars when the woman marries me, and then a million for every year we stay married. Plus, I'll add two million for every kid she produces—once I confirm the offspring is mine, of course, via DNA testing."
She gapes at me. "Do you think you can buy anything?"
"Do you think I can’t buy everything?" I step forward; she skitters back. Damn, but I find her skittishness around me so damn alluring. The fact that she, clearly, dislikes me and hates that her body responds to me but is powerless to stop it sends a jolt of adrenaline shooting through my veins. I advance on her, and her big, blue eyes grow enormous. She slides back, and when I don’t stop, turns and darts forward and around my desk.
"What do you think you’re doing?" I drawl.
"Uh, just, uh, the view." She stabs a finger at the window, and when I round the desk, she slips around the other side and toward the door. She’s almost out the room when I call her name, "Oh, Ms. Warren."
She flinches.
"Don’t forget your phone."
17
Penny
I wish I’d left my phone behind. That way, I wouldn’t have to read the barrage of excited messages from Mira, who’s under the impression Sir Knighthole is taking me out to dinner. I tried to correct her misconception and explained that it was a working dinner, but this only elicited a bunch of more excited messages from her.
We’re in his car with Rudy driving and the partition behind him raised for privacy.
At seven p.m., when I was sure I’d keel over with hunger, he marched out of his office, snapped his fingers as he passed me, and expected me to follow. I stuck out my tongue at his back, and he commented without turning, "You done with making childish faces, or should I take this as a sign I need to spank the brattiness out of you?"
Oh, my god. My pussy clenched so hard, my toes curled, and I almost dissolved into a slobbering mess right there on the spot. I managed to find a measure of composure enough to scramble up, grab my coat, and race to keep up with him.
The ride down in the elevator passed with him glued to his phone and me aware of how he seemed to dwarf the space. Every pore in my body was alert to his every breath, the way his big fingers made the phone seem tiny in his palm, the way those thick fingers of his had been inside me and taken me to the edge and—
My phone vibrates with another incoming message. This time, I move it over to my other palm and peek at the screen.
Mira: Okay okay. Sorry I’m so excited about your dinner. Make sure you share all the details with me once you’re back.
Me: Will do but there won’t be much to report. It’s a boring dinner to discuss his new hire.
Which is true. After all, Knight’s going about this entire exercise of finding his wife like it's a business merger.
Mira: Eggplant emoji. Pussycat emoji. Sweating emoji.
Me: Sleeping face emoji.
"If you’re done playing with your phone, Ms. Easton, perhaps we can get some work done?" he drawls.
Ha, told you he thinks of this exercise of going bride-hunting as some kind of investment strategy. In a way, it is. It's his route to consolidating his position in his company, so I guess he's not completely wrong. Only the rich would connect their need for power and their personal lives so closely. Of course, from what Abby has told me, Knight wasn’t always like this. Does what he went through justify what he’s become now? I suppose, I don’t know because it didn’t happen to me. But… it’s something I’m not able to get my head around.
"Ms. Easton, I asked you a question."
I blink, then give him my full attention. "The answer is no."
"Did you even hear the question?" He scowls.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I wouldn’t dare make you repeat yourself, Mr. Warren, Sir."
His eyes flash, and heat spikes in my lower belly. In the next second, he banks whatever momentary lapse in composure he displayed. In fact, maybe I mistook the streetlight shining through the window and in his eyes for that crack in his self-control.
"No, I don’t need to use my phone, and sorry I was distracted. It was, uh, my friend Mira. I was letting her know I'm headed out for dinner so we can’t meet this evening."
