“Jealous?” Richard asked.
“No,” she laughed, a low, husky sound that heated Richard’s blood. “He isn’t jealous. Not how you mean.”
“Then how?”
She walked away, pacing to the window where she stared down into the garden behind Richard’s home. When she was quiet for what felt like an eternity, he took a step toward her. “You owe me nothing. I’m a stranger.”
She glanced over her shoulder. He thought she must know how alluring she looked when she did it. “A stranger who is offering me money… in exchange for bedding me. That is what we’re talking about, isn’t it, when you use the termindecent proposal?”
Now it was his turn to be silent, as much as he wished to say more. To ask for more. To touch her.
“If Huxley believes I’m threatened…forced…” she murmured at last, and then trailed off with a shiver.
Richard cleared his throat. “Yes, I saw the results. It’s quite intoxicating in its way.”
“You think so?” she asked, facing him fully now, arms folded.
He nodded. “He’s a fascinating man. His connection to you is no less intriguing than anything else about him.”
She shifted ever so slightly but didn’t answer. So she was as protective of Hux as he was of her. Richard let out a long breath. “Let me ask you this, Zara: are you interested in my proposition? Without worrying about his reaction if it isn’t jealousy. If I had approached you in a different way and offered you a significant payment for…say…a week of your time…”
“A week,” she murmured.
“I think a man might need a week to really enjoy time with you, Zara.”
She shivered, an almost imperceptible movement, but one that emboldened Richard. He held his breath as he let her take her time to answer.
“How much is significant?” she asked at last.
Richard laughed at the question, but swept out a small notebook and charcoal pencil he often carried in his inside pocket. He wrote down a figure and handed over the sheet.
Her eyes bulged. “Did you add one too many zeros to this number, Mr. Fitzroy?" she asked.
He smiled. “No. That is the figure I’m offering.”
“That and your silence about whatever you saw at the party last week and whatever you discovered in your chamber today,” she said.
He shook his head. “My silence is not for sale. I offer it freely, as I said. If you refuse the money, refuse the proposal of pleasure together, I will send you on your way, with my silence insured.”
“And how am I to trust that statement?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I suppose you would have to see if I uphold my promise. But my word is my bond. I know that I won’t go back on it and I know you will see that is true, as well.”
“So it is only my body you are paying for.”
“I hope that it won’t only be yours,” he said, and glanced toward the door. “But I clearly need to negotiate with the other party in a different way.”
“And what if he says no.”
“Then the offer stands for only your lovely company,” he said. She stared at the paper again, tracing her finger over the amount he had written. He cleared his throat. “So now that the boring bits are resolved, I ask again: do you want what I’m offering, Zara?”
She swallowed hard and let her gaze flit up and down the length of his body in a slow sweep. The corners of her lips quirked up as she did so and her gaze grew a little more heavy.
“I admit, I do, Mr. Fitzroy,” she said at last.
And even though this was just a lark, a game, Richard felt a swell of relief at the answer. He leaned forward. “Richard. I think for what is about to happen, it would be better if you called me Richard.”
“Richard,” she repeated softly.
