Sasha wasn’t sure what to believe. “How did you meet her?”
“I heard she and Clifford were close, so I picked her up in a bar. I suspected she knew all the dirty dealings her uncle was up to. I gave her whatever she wanted so she’d talk.”
Even sex?
“Oh, my…” Sasha sat stunned. Nick had tried to work Fiona over, and in the end she’d worked him?
“I should have seen the con coming. I won’t be played again.” Self-recrimination filled his bitter tone. “Look, I never said I was a Boy Scout. I only said I didn’t rape her.”
Did she dare believe that or did she simply want to because she couldn’t stomach the thought of giving her body to the kind of man who would hold a woman down and force his way inside her?
It didn’t matter. Fortunately for her, Nick had been released from prison early for good behavior. Without him, she and Harper might be dead soon.
She drew in a deep breath. “You want sex in exchange for your help and protection. I understand. What are your exact terms?”
“Four weeks. It will take me that long to figure out how to play this, whether I should fake your deaths, find or fabricate evidence to discredit Clifford, or just kill the son of a bitch.”
Kill? Her conscience balked. Logic reminded her quickly that the Orleans Parish DA had no such qualms about murder. He’d threatened to smother the life from her daughter. High-minded morals wouldn’t keep her and Harper alive.
“Sasha,” he snapped, bringing her attention back to him. “Hear me well. In those four weeks, the word ‘no’ never falls from your lips. Whatever I want, whatever I ask, you comply.”
“You mean if you want us to hide at three in the morning, we do it? That’s okay. We’ve been doing that for…it seems like forever.”
“I mean that, too. But I’m also telling you that I expect perfect willingness in bed.”
Shock knocked the air from her lungs. “You’d want someone giving you whatever just because you commanded it?”
“The commands are for your psyche, sweetheart. That way, you can tell yourself that you didn’t have a choice, that of course you didn’t like bedding down with a rapist. But honestly, I’m not going to do a damn thing to you until your body is good and wet and ready.”
She digested his words in a panic and shook her head. “That may never happen.”
His jaw tightened. “If I can’t get you hot, I don’t have any business between your legs. If you can’t let go because you’re afraid I’ll hurt you, I’ll persuade your body otherwise. That’s a promise.”
How was she supposed to respond to that? “Um, I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of…arousing a woman. I meant that I may disappoint you if you’re expecting some vixen. I—I’m not very sexual.”
Nick stilled, then a smile quirked up the side of his mouth. “You will be.”
Those words filled her with part dread—and if she was honest—part anticipation. Always, she’d been the good girl. She’d been a virgin on her wedding night, done her best to be a lady, even in the bedroom. Somehow, she didn’t think Nick would appreciate her circumspect nature or accept her lying back and sorting through her mental to-do list during sex.
Then again, what choice did she have? Faking a few moans would be much easier than actually orgasming with a virtual—and very dangerous—stranger.
Sasha thought back to his touch on her breast, the way he’d rocked his hips against her. She’d felt something, far more than she expected. Maybe it would be enough to see her through.
“I—I’ll do my best not to disappoint you,” she murmured finally.
A laugh played across Nick’s wide mouth. “Don’t worry. I plan to be thoroughly satisfied.”
She bit her lip, feeling a violent flush rush up her cheeks. Then silence ensued. What was left to say? For the next four weeks, she’d agreed to whore herself to a ruthless criminal fresh from prison. She had a full belly, her daughter was tucked safely into a bed, and a doctor would see Harper in the morning. Sasha really had no excuse to delay the inevitable.
She stood. Nick did the same. Their stares met. She ignored the jolt of awareness pinging through her body. Instead, she reached for her blouse, unbuttoned it, and slid it off her shoulders before dropping it on the floor.
Nick watched, nothing on his face giving away his thoughts. His gaze flicked over her shoulders, her breasts covered by a utilitarian white bra. Was he totally underwhelmed? Lowering her gaze, she saw he had a reaction to the fact she was nearly topless. He was undeniably hard, his bulge trying to burst through his jeans.
What was she supposed to do now? But she knew. She’d read books, watched a porn movie at a bachelorette party once, listened to Mike go on and on. Sasha knew what all men wanted.
Uncertainty quaking in her belly, she closed the distance between them and stopped in front of Nick. Then she dropped to her knees.
Chapter Three
