A slight twitch appears at the corner of his mouth. “You will also eat. Properly.”
I tip my chin. “Does that mean I’m on a diet?”
His gaze moves over me—slow and unapologetic—lingering on my mouth, my hips, my thighs, like I’m a feast he fully intends to devour. My pussy clenches, and I can’t believe how much that look undoes me.
“No,” he says. “Not at all. I just want you to eat healthy so you can stay strong.”
“Is that an order?”
“It’s a condition.” He steps closer, closing the space between us, the scent of him threading through my lungs. “Here are the others: You will receive a small advance today, enough to satisfy your bills. After ten days, if you have performed satisfactorily, you’ll receive more. The rest will come when the month is complete. Fail, and you’ll get nothing beyond what you receive tonight.”
The words slam into me hard. “So I’m only paid if?—”
“If you please me.” His tone is flat, final. “I’ll cover your apartment rent for this month and January, as well as all other expenses while you’re in my employ.” He holds my gaze, daring me to argue. “But if you break any of my rules—privacy, precision, truth—you’ll be sent packing without a penny more.”
He reaches into his jacket and sets an envelope on the table between us. The weight of it is obvious before I even touch it. I slide it open, and a stack of cash stares back at me, more than I’ve ever held in my life. On the front of the envelope is a schedule with dollar amounts, written in neat, precise handwriting.
Advance. Ten days. Final.
My eyes go wide. The advance alone is more than my annual salary at the boutique. My chest tightens with relief and dread in equal measure.
Damien watches the way I look at it, his face expressionless.
My throat goes dry. “What about appearances?” I ask.
“You’ll be on my arm at my Christmas party.”
His Christmas party. The one whispered about in coffee shops and backrooms. The one with a reputation of an orgy dressed up in champagne and holiday lights. I don’t know if it’s true, but the rumors make my pulse race.
“And if I accept?”
His mouth curves slightly. “Then you’re mine. For one month. Unlimited.”
I swallow. I want to take time to think about it, to really consider what I’m doing. If I accept, I’m his. In every way. For a whole month.
There’s really nothing to think about. Clara needs me.
“I accept.”
“Good.” He steps behind me, pulling a beautiful red silk ribbon from the nightstand. He ties it lightly around my wrist with an elegant knot. It is unmistakable.
“A reminder,” he says. “That you’re mine. This is never to come off. Understood?”
I open my mouth to argue. What about when I’m sleeping? Taking a shower?
But his icy gaze answers without me asking.
“Okay. Understood.”
“Good,” he says again. The word rolls off his tongue and tingles through me, shameful and hot. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Tomorrow, a car will come for you at your home. Noon sharp.”
I nod, trying not to float away on the fact that something so ordinary is sheer intimacy when he says it.
He leans in, the closeness now a secret I’ve been sworn to keep. I breathe him in, my pulse ticking hot and fast.
“Good girl,” he says, ruining me with two words. The room seems to rearrange itself around them.
