Or maybe desperation, although I’d never admit it. I wasn’t a patient man, so I was eager to put a contract to bed so I could get on with business. Money was no object, although I wasn’t inclined to tell the stunning, infuriating woman standing in front of me the sky was the limit.
During the video, the lovely Vanessa had looked polished to perfection, offering a range of services for marketing purposes. She’d spent some money on providing photographs, some depicting a lavish lifestyle complete with yachts, tropical vacations, and powerful sports cars while others provided an opportunity to showcase simpler aspects of life. From families and time spent with friends to romantic walks on the beach. Every picture had told a story, every video creating a fantasy.
Her list of clients was respectable, both large and small firms with no particular common ground of products. Just hearing her velveteen voice, the soft lilt speaking to the camera as if making love to it had hooked me.
However, seeing her in person had me second guessing my decision to seek her out, but not because I wasn’t fascinated or thought less of her qualifications. She was simply a ballbuster and I didn’t need any additional difficulties with what I hoped to achieve.
But at this point, I was running out of options.
She was clearly debating her options as well. I was no fool. I’d looked at other aspects of her credibility, including using connections to check her financial status. She was drowning in red ink. For her to turn down what would likely be her most profitable client to date meant either she was reckless or had serious morals.
Why did I have vile thoughts of stripping her of every ounce of decency? She wasn’t my type, although I wasn’t certain what type I had. Women were fun to play with then put away like dolls on a shelf. Just by overhearing her angry depiction of me, I’d realized she would never allow herself to be placed on a shelf for any man.
“Fine, Mr. Elliot. I’ll give you five minutes, but I want to be very clear upfront. This is not an escort service and the women in my employ are professionals, not prostitutes. Understood?”
“Absolutely, Ms. Blair. But you are selling your services. Correct?”
The venom in her eyes was enough to drive me through the concrete and the way her lips pursed created a need to crush them with mine. I noticed one hand was fisted. Perhaps she was preparing to punch me. A whimsical image of seeing her mud wrestle entered my warped mind. Few women brought out such sadistic needs. I was having a good time annoying her.
“At least I have something to sell, unlike you. You sold your soul to the devil a long time ago.”
Ouch. Few men stood up to me this way, let alone women. My cock was shoving hard against my trousers.
“Perhaps you’re right, Ms. Blair, but since I’m the paying client, perhaps you can appreciate what I’m looking for. What I need is a true professional with no strings, no issues. For that, I’m willing to pay handsomely. Now, please. If we can just spend a few minutes, perhaps we can determine whether we want to work together.”
She took a deep breath, scrutinized the air I was breathing and nodded. Without uttering another word, she returned to her office, pointing toward the chair. I guess she thought I should be the lapdog during our meeting.
I turned toward the neon sign, amused by the bright color. Somehow, the glowing lettering suited her personality. Fiery as hell.
“Sit, Mr. Elliot. The clock is ticking.” She sat down behind her desk, immediately owning the small room. Her view and mine were entirely different, but she was obviously very proud of what she’d accomplished.
I took my time before honoring her request. Once I was seated, I studied her exactly as she’d done with me. There was a clear chemistry between us, but I would call it toxic.
“Why don’t you jump into the reason you need afakewife, the length of time and the basic particulars.”
She remained comfortable, never blinking in a classic method of intimidation. Only I wasn’t intimidated by anyone. “I need a wifeto present a more suitable home life for several potential clients in countries who don’t look kindly on what has been described as a playboy lifestyle.”
“You do live a playboy lifestyle.”
“Yes, well, it is my choice after all.”
“So you’re willing to fake it until contracts are in place, ironclad I might add.”
Chuckling, I leaned forward and for a split second, I was able to notice her nervousness. My wicked mind immediately tried to determine if she was sweating under her cheap polyester blouse. She was right that I was a sadistic man.
“I’m willing to pay more than going rate for a consummate actress to represent the company as well as myself in the best light. While I consider my personal life my own and nobody’s business, I can understand and appreciate different cultures. As far as the length of time, approximately six months.”
“And the rules of engagement?” She’d yet to write a single note, which meant I was wasting my time.
“She would be required to live in my house but of course would have a separate room. She can continue enjoying time with her friends and we can certainly create a job for her, perhaps where she works inside my house. However, she must keep the charade from everyone. A total secret. She’ll also need to attend various functions with me. I’ll provide a vehicle for her use, a limited spending account for clothes and other essentials, and of course, she will be paid handsomely.”
“Of course. Since you have money to burn and money can buy happiness.”
“I’m curious. Who was the man who turned you into such a shrew?” Perhaps my choice of words was wrong. I was certain she was ready to launch herself across the desk.
Perhaps I was twisted in that I’d like to see her try.
She took a deep breath while her eyes were ablaze, but the most alluring smile crossed her face as she slowly stood. “Mr. Elliot. Unfortunately, I don’t believe Perfect Pairing will be able to honor your request. It’s obvious you’re looking for something a bit more… unscrupulous. Thank you for reaching out, but I’m simply not interested.”
