Page 11 of Resist

“Correct. While I appreciate your more-than-aggressive debating skills, save it for the courtroom—you have zero jurisdiction over me.”

“Can’t blame a man for trying.”

“Can’t fault a woman for saying no,” I counter.

Silence falls on the line, and his resignation is in his sigh. “She’s not going to let me down and in turn let you down, is she?” he asks.

“I told you, Wicked Ways is a professional organization. You’ve seen the referrals. You’ve read the reviews in the confidential company profile I sent you. I don’t think you have to worry about being let down, Mr. Lockhart.”

“You don’t let up, do you?” His question throws me momentarily. The admiration in his voice even more so.

“I’m not like most women, Mr. Lockhart. I’m not one to be impressed by a smooth-talking man or a large bank account.”

“Then what is it that would impress you?”

The unexpected.

The thought flickers and fades through my mind, and I hate that it does, because it’s true. Men are predicable, they are creatures of habit, and I’ve yet to meet one who does anything more to me than make me wonder how much he’d be willing to pay.

But he’s talking to Vee. A madam. A woman who is strong, experienced, and a ballbuster.

“What would impress me? Nothing.” My voice is even when I speak.

“Is that so?”

There is an edged silence as we feel the other one out. Men like to play with power. Who has it. Who’s willing to cede it. Who’s willing to fight for it.

I’ll give him none of that.

I’m in control.

That’s how this relationship works.

“I’ll have Saxony at the agreed-upon place and time. Good day, Mr. Lockhart.”

And before he can argue or question me, I end the call, lean back in my chair, and blow out a sigh.

Yet when I give myself a small moment to breathe before the panic sets in because Saxony doesn’t exist, all I can think about are the words he said. How well he has me pegged.

And how every part of me would love to prove him wrong.

CHAPTER FOUR

Vaughn

“This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” I mutter to myself as I put one last finishing touch to my lipstick.

Exploit my girls, my ass.

Who did he think he was talking to? I don’t exploit them, and I damn well could step into their shoes if need be, although it is breaking my cardinal rule number one when it comes to running an escort business: never—ever—sleep with a client.

I stare at myself in the mirror. I look like me.

But not like me.

And that’s a good thing because what I’m about to do crosses every boundary I’ve ever made for myself when it comes to Wicked Ways.

Every single one.