“Not at all. I want to have Ms. Laurent in my studio very much. But only if she’s willing.” He brings the crystal to his lips, watching me over the rim as he drinks. “Some people may consider me sadistic and disturbing, but I’m not a monster. In fact, I can be downright reasonable.”
I scoff under my breath.
“You don’t believe that?” He arches a brow, his mouth tilting with the beginnings of a smirk.
“I believe you’re a man who will do—and say—anything he needs to in order to get what he wants.”
“One hundred and sixty-five thousand dollars. That was my offer.” He leans forward and sets down his now-empty glass. “To show you how reasonable I can be, I’ll better it.”
“You’re only proving my point.”
“A hundred-and-sixty-five grand,” he restates. “Each.”
I can’t hold back my incredulous laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
Although, I’ll admit, the figure staggers me. It’s a hell of a lot of money and he’s throwing it around like it’s nothing. To him, I’m sure that’s all it is. I have to believe that’s all Daniel or I represent to him, too. Nothing.
Except his intense, searingly grim stare seems to say otherwise.
“Three-hundred and thirty-thousand dollars,” he says. “Half to erase Mr. Hathaway’s debts, and the rest for you, Ms. Laurent.”
Daniel’s grasp on my fingers tightens a bit. “Jared, thank you. That’s extremely generous of you.”
Frowning, I pull my hand away. “I don’t want his money. I don’t need it.”
“Everyone needs money, Ms. Laurent.”
He’s right about that. I can hardly pretend that kind of windfall wouldn’t be life-changing for me. It would wipe out all of my student loans and leave plenty to spare.
It would mean only having to work one job instead of two, giving me more time to devote to my studies, not to mention time to spend with my Mom and my niece, Katie. Precious time, considering the fragility of my mother’s health this past year.
But not like this.
I know Daniel needs my help, too. His well-being also hinges on my decision. I didn’t create his problems, but my answer now will either leave him to drown in them or throw him a needed life-line.
And as much as my own financial situation could stand a little rescuing as well, I can’t do it by selling a piece of myself to a man like Jared Rush.
God, can I?
He stares at me, giving me no room to hide as I consider all the reasons I need to refuse.
“Some things aren’t worth trading for any price.”
“Such as?”
“My privacy, for one thing. I live and work in this city. If I pose for one of your paintings, I’ll never have any kind of anonymity again.”
“There are ways to protect your privacy. I’m willing to guarantee never to release your name publicly.”
“People I know will recognize me.”
“Only if I decide to put the finished painting up for sale or on exhibit.”
“What else would you do with it?”
He tilts his head, those molasses-dark eyes drinking me in for longer than I can bear. “I’ll decide that once I’ve painted you, Ms. Laurent. Tell me the rest of your terms.”
“We are not negotiating, Mr. Rush.”
