Who thinks sex is worth that kind of money?
Not me. I can live without it. And I do.
Oh God. What if he’s into weird stuff?
Screwing my eyes tight, I give my head an adamant shake. I’m not having sex with a stranger, kinky or otherwise, for Tod’s stupid mistake.
“I’m s—”
“If you say you’re sorry once more, I’m going to knee you in the nuts.”
“I—okay.”
This whole thing sounds like the plot to a steamy romance novel, especially when you throw in a name like Raif Deveraux. But he’sunlikely to be the romance hero type. He’s probably some seedy old codger who can only get sex by manipulation. I expect he has to swallow a mouthful of pills before he gets his kicks from humiliating women.
Well, I’m going to teach him a lesson.
“Good. That’s good.”
“What?” My gaze slices up, and I realize I’m chewing my thumbnail.Nasty habit from the past.
“You’re pulling your angry face. As the second most frightening person I know, I reckon you could make him not want you.”
“Flattering, Tod. Very flattering.”
“You know what I mean.”
But I do. And I think Tod might just be onto something.
Fucking Tod,I think with a harrumph.
My heels beat like a war drum as I make my way out of the door and along a dimly lit hall. I am calm, collected, and kick-arse mad. And obviously ignoring the nervous gnawing in the pit of my stomach.Mind over matter because this… tool will be more inclined to have sex with a cactus by the time I finish with him!
Yet for all my angry thoughts, I can’t help but think there must be some mistake. That Tod has somehow gotten it wrong. It’s just too fantastical. This is leafy Chelsea, not some crack house in Brixton. Not that I know what goes on in a crack house. Myvices these days extend to the occasional Belvedere vodka and men who don’t seem to like me as much as I do them.
I should’ve stayed in my pajamas, curled on the sofa with a mug of tea and a book. Haven’t I already learned that going out only leads to trouble? To drunken arguments, recriminations, and bricks flying through my exes’ windows? Yet against my better judgment, I’d let Tod convince me that tonight would be good for the gallery.
“New people,”he’d said.“Ones with deep pockets. You’ll be charming, and they’ll be eating out of your hand.”
This is not quite the picture he’d painted.
“Bloody men,” I mutter to myself. They’re only good on paper—their spines belong in books! Well, I’m going to enlighten this… Raif what’s-his-face because he’s seriously deranged if he thinks for a single minute that any woman would fall for this.
Then, I’m going to strangle Tod. And not in the fun, sexy breath play way.
I take a left and another, ignoring how I feel about the made-for-TV goons trailing me.Shoulders as wide as doorways and shoe sizes for IQs.Ignoring them mainly because I’m slightly terrified. When I’d opened the door after tearing strips off Tod, I seriously didn’t expect them to be standing there. But they were. It made the situation a lot more real.
I slow to a stop in front of the last door in this hallway. I raise my chin and glance back at them. “Is this—”
The wider of the two interrupts my flow by leaning around me and pushing open the door. I glide into the darkened interior ofthe room like I haven’t a care in the world. Or knees that are knocking.
A red-toned tribal carpet muffles my footsteps as the door clicks closed. A soft and low light illuminates the stylish room. A black marble fireplace dominates the wall to the right, French windows ahead overlooking a garden and a dark London sky beyond.
My gaze draws left to a built-in bar and a man’s long, lean silhouette. My steps begin to slow as my heart continues to gallop.
“I’ve been expecting you.”
“You know what they say about expectation.”
