by Emma Slate
All the tender feelings I had begun to feel instantly vanished. How could I have forgotten why I was truly here?
“I wasn’t referring to the financial aspect of it,” I announced coldly. “I meant in relation to time. Six months is a long time.”
“Do you think I’ll get bored with you?”
“No. I think I’ll get bored with you.”
He took a sip of his wine. “You won’t. You’re intrigued by me. And besides, I’m unlike any man you’ve ever met.”
“Ah, I finally recognize this version of you.”
“I don’t want to do battle with you, Eden. It’s very simple. I want to spend six months with you. I’m offering you a million dollars for that time.”
“A million?” I asked with a gasp.
I hated myself in that moment. I hated him too. For reminding me of what I had become.
“There will be clothes and jewelry. Anything I give you as a gift, you can take with you when the contract ends.”
“Stop,” I said. “Please stop.”
He frowned. “What did I say wrong?”
“I just need a second to process—”
“No, you don’t. It’s simple.”
I glared at him. “It’s simple for you, maybe. You’re not the courtesan.” As soon as I said the words, I immediately wanted to take them back. Admitting to Hadrian that I had trouble reconciling why I was meeting with him, why I’d spent the night with him in the first place, showed weakness.
“During your time in Shetland with me,” he said, his brogue thick, “you won’t be a Rex girl.”
“What will I be?”
“Mine.”
I shoved back from the table. “I need some air.”
He rose when I did, but he made no pursuit to follow me.
I rushed through the restaurant with my head bowed so I didn’t have to see anyone. I was sure people knew. Could they read it in the way I held myself? Did they know I was questioning my own worth?
Any other girl in my situation would’ve jumped at the money Hadrian offered, so how was it that a million-dollar exclusive contract made me feel cheap?
Once I was on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, I gulped in a breath of air and willed my heartbeat to slow down.
The sun had set, and I was shrouded in shadows except for the city lights. Here, away from Hadrian, I could admit it.
It wasn’t about the money.
He could’ve asked me to go for nothing and I would’ve jumped at the chance. He made me feel alive and bold, made me feel like I wasn’t a desperate orphan in need of a new identity to escape a dangerous family.
He made me feel like I wasn’t alone.
His presence—his body—commanded my attention and refused to let it go.
The door to the restaurant opened and then Hadrian was standing next to me.
“You didn’t leave,” he said.
“I told you I needed air.” I looked at him as we stood next to each other on the street, taxis whipping by us in the night. “You expected me to run.”
“Aye.”
In a daring gesture, he turned toward me and his hand reached out to caress my face, his thumb stroking the apple of my cheek.
“What is it you’re afraid of?” he asked.
I stood in silence.
“Come on, what is it?”
“What if,” I began, “after a few weeks, you want me gone, or I want to leave. What happens then?”
“I won’t keep you prisoner, if that’s your concern. If it’s a monetary issue, you don’t need to worry about that either. You’ll get one hundred thousand dollars up front just for accepting.”
My brow furrowed.
“Take the contract, Eden.”
“Don’t rush me,” I snapped.
“I want this finalized. One million dollars. Six months. Exclusive. In Shetland with me. I will not be with another. And I will not share you.”
The contract was too good to be true.
There was a catch.
There had to be.
But I was too inexperienced to look for hidden meanings or play the game Hadrian was a master at.
It didn’t matter. I knew what my answer was going to be the moment I realized it was Hadrian who’d offered the contract.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because once you say yes, you’re mine. The contract begins immediately.”
I nodded because I was unable to speak. His intense gaze captured mine, clipping my wings.
He gently grasped my elbow and escorted me inside the restaurant. When we were in the private back room, Hadrian released me. He looked at me for a long moment and then with one confident move of his massive arm, he swept the dishes, the glasses of wine, the bottle itself to the floor. Glass shattered, wine spilled, bread and olive oil went everywhere, and I didn’t care.
“Lay on the table,” he demanded. “Spread your legs.”
His blue-gray eyes were trained on me as he waited for me to do his bidding.
Like a puppet, my limbs moved. I crawled onto the table and flipped over, flat on my back, and opened my legs.
Hadrian walked toward me but didn’t touch me. Instead, he stared down at me, an inscrutable expression on his angular face.
My heart began to drum with excitement and nerves. I had no idea what to expect, and the anticipation made me wet between my thighs.
He reached out to caress one of my ankles. His touch was tender, light, and then his fingers were gliding up the inside of my legs, dipping into the hollow behind my knees.
It tickled, and I let out a laugh.
His hands didn’t stop, but continued higher, pushing up my dress so that it gathered around my waist.
I was wearing a scrap of lace that barely passed as underwear. He touched a finger to it and made a noise of approval. And then he was on his knees, pushing aside the lace, his tongue at the heat of me.
I couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from my lips, not caring that the kitchen staff was only a few feet away.
Hadrian gripped my hips to keep me pinned to the table as he continued to devour me. Voracious, he feasted like a warrior at a banquet.
He pleasured fast and ruthless, leaving me no choice but to come against his mouth.
And when he lifted his head, he swiped his tongue across his lips.
“I will ruin you, Eden,” he murmured.
I was sure it was already too late for that.
Chapter Fifteen
Hadrian helped me off the table and aided in straightening my dress. My cheeks were on fire and I looked everywhere but at him. The room was littered with the remains of our wine glasses and china, scattered across the floor.
Without a word, Hadrian clutched my hand and led me to the restaurant’s bar. While I settled onto a stool, Hadrian spoke to the bartender and asked for a bottle of wine.
“Please tell the kitchen we’ve moved and would like our salads,” he said.
The bartender nodded, poured our wine, and then left the bar to speak to the kitchen staff.
I wasn’t sure what to say to Hadrian—the formalities of the contract had been addressed, but I was tongue tied. All I could do was stare at his large hand as he grasped the delicate wine glass. His scarred knuckles stood out and it reminded me of the scar on his body.
The bartender returned, carrying our salads. He set them down in front of us, asked if we wanted fresh cracked black pepper, and then went to help another customer.
“How is this going to work?” I inquired.
“You pick up your fork and—”
“Not that. I mean, this.” I gestured between the two of us.
“I don’t understand. I thought things worked quite nicely in the back room.” He arched his brows as if daring me to vocalize what had occurred.
“Yes, I know how that went. I meant…after. Do you want me to talk? Do you want to do the talking? Or do you want six months of silence between us?”
&
nbsp; He peered at me. “You’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Liar.”
I scoffed. “Fine. I’m nervous. I don’t know how any of this is supposed to work. I don’t know if you even want to talk to me, or if you’d prefer it if I was a nice quiet trophy—”
“What’s your real name?” he interrupted.
His question made me pause and then I said, “I’m still not telling you that.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“Here and there.”
“Do you have any siblings?” he asked.
“What is this, an inquisition?”
“I’m trying to learn about you.”
“By firing questions at me? Haven’t you talked to another human being before?” I asked in exasperation. “It’s called a normal conversation, Hadrian.”
“I don’t have time for normalcy.”
I reached for my wine glass. “Why not? That makes me curious about you…”
“It does?”
I nodded.
“Okay, what do you want to know?”
Everything.
In a gesture that surprised both of us, I stroked my finger along his jawline. It was stubbly, the beginning of his beard growing in.
He turned his head ever so slightly so that his lips grazed my fingers.
“I’m going to learn everything there is to know about you.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” I said lightly, dropping my hand and lifting my glass of wine.
“Not a challenge. A promise,” he vowed.
I had to stop the arrow of nerves that shot through my belly. The danger wasn’t that Hadrian was determined to learn everything about me, it was that I wanted to confide in him all that there was. But I could never entrust anyone with the knowledge I possessed—the knowledge I’d burned to ashes and washed away.
Our dinner was leisurely and as the wine flowed, I felt myself relaxing in his presence. In spite of the alcohol, I managed to keep my wits about me, knowing that Hadrian had the force and drive of a battering ram, and that he would stop at nothing to get something genuine out of me.
He cut off a sliver of his steak and set it on my plate. “Try it.”
The meat was tender and rich, and I had to stop a moan of delight. I took my time savoring it and was just about to ask if I could have another piece when Hadrian obliged without me having to say a word. He grinned, obviously pleased that I was enjoying myself.
“What will I do?” I asked him in between bites.
“Do?”
“I assume you’ll be occupied during the days, doing whatever it is you do that allows you to offer me such a generous sum for my time…” It was as close to an outright question about how he made his money as I would dare to ask.
“Aye.”
Disgruntled that he hadn’t taken the bait about his work, I repeated my question. “So, what will I do?”
“You mean how will you occupy yourself while you’re waiting for me?”
I scrunched my nose at him.
He chuckled. “I have horses. You can ride.”
“I’ve never ridden a horse.”
“Then I’ll teach you,” he said. “I’m sure I can drag myself away from work long enough to show you how to ride properly.”
I stemmed the flow of excitement for the possibility of getting to experience something that I had never had enough money to pursue. “Okay, what else is there to do in Shetland?”
“I have a pool. You can swim. I have a library. You can read. You can walk on my beach—”
“Your beach?”
He paused, as if weighing what he was about to say. “Aye. My beach.”
“Like, your own beach?” I asked, seeking clarification.
Hadrian nodded once, a quick slash of his head.
How much money did he have that he could afford to own a private beach? I dismissed the thought, realizing he had enough money that he wouldn’t miss a million dollars.
“Do you get to enjoy your own beach?” I asked. “Or do you constantly travel for work?”
“Actually, I don’t travel for work often. I prefer the seclusion of Shetland and work from home most of the time.”
We continued to devour our entrees—and much to my surprise, Hadrian let me have his entire steak when he saw how much I relished it.
He was strange, this man. Commanding, intense, mysterious, and yet his focus was on me and my pleasure. Even when it came to food.
“Are we going to have dessert?” I asked when the dinner plates had been cleared.
Hadrian’s mouth curled upward. “You have a sweet tooth.”
“You don’t?”
His gaze dipped down my body making me feel warm and flushed.
“Panna cotta,” I stated. “If they don’t have panna cotta, I’m going to doubt the integrity of this Italian restaurant.”
Hadrian laughed and called to the bartender, “One panna cotta. Two spoons.”
When the dessert arrived, covered in fresh berries, I let Hadrian have the first bite. I wanted to watch him. His face lit up, and for a moment he looked incredibly boyish.
In fact, he enjoyed the dessert so much I was only able to get two spoonfuls before the entire thing disappeared.
“Oh, I see how it is. You’ll share your steak without a thought, but when it comes to dessert, I’m on my own,” I said with a laugh.
He didn’t even look chagrinned when he replied, “I’ll get you another.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “I’ve had enough actually.”
We lingered over the last few sips of wine, but inevitably our dinner came to an end. A spark of excitement lit in my belly when Hadrian stood up from the bar and helped me from my seat. His hand rode the small of my back as he guided me to the exit. The pressure of his palm against my dress sent a gentle pulse of pleasure between my legs.
A black Rolls-Royce waited for us at the curb with a driver standing at the door ready to open it for us. I’d been impressed by the car that had driven me to dinner, but the Rolls took it to a whole new level.
Hadrian’s hand rested on my thigh, lazily stroking circles across my skin, but he remained silent as we drove. When we arrived back to The Rex, Hadrian helped me out of the car.
Much to my confusion and surprise, he didn’t take me to his hotel room. He escorted me to my suite, pressed my body to the door, and then kissed me so deeply that my thoughts scrambled, and my brain short-circuited.
Just as I grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket, he pulled away. He gazed down at me and smiled thoughtfully. “I have a business meeting before we fly out tomorrow. Meet me in the lobby at eight a.m. Good night, Eden.”
Chapter Sixteen
Second thoughts clawed at the back of my head. It was easy to silence them when I was in Hadrian’s orbit, but he’d left me alone in a plush hotel bed. Instead of sleeping, I thought about how he’d touched me and my response to him.
I couldn’t believe I’d met the man only a few days ago, and now I was about to fly to Shetland to spend six months with him.
Eventually I fell into a fitful sleep and woke up sometime around dawn. I dragged myself into the shower. Hot water sprayed me, but it wasn’t at all restorative.
I dried off quickly and went to the suitcase Elodie had packed and left for me while I was out to dinner with Hadrian. I dressed in a pair of pre-chosen dark jeans, a cozy gray turtleneck sweater, and black ankle boots. I blew out my hair so it fell in loose waves around my face, applied the barest of makeup, and then gathered my belongings.
I put my work cell phone into a brand-new black leather shoulder bag and wheeled my suitcase to the door. I took one last look around, not for anything I might’ve left—I didn’t own anything—but because it felt like I was finally closing the door on my past.
Strange, nonsensical thoughts continued to plague me as I stepped into the elevator. When the doors opened into the lobby after a short ride down, I forced a serene expressio
n, hoping it would aid in calming the rapid beat of my heart.
Hadrian stood at a cream-colored couch with his phone to his ear as he stared at the exit. He wore a charcoal gray suit and his strawberry blond hair was styled off his forehead. A beam of sunlight streamed through the lobby windows, highlighting his strong, angular jaw.
A delicious shiver worked its way down my spine. A bead of warmth curled through my stomach.
His expression was stoic and gave me no insight into his thoughts. As I approached, I was able to hear the tail end of his conversation.
“Good, I knew you’d come to your senses,” he said. He hung up and then his head swiveled, his gaze meeting mine.
I nearly faltered, but I forced my pace to remain steady as I stalked toward him. When I was a few inches away from him, I stopped. My chest rose and fell quickly, and his eyes drank me in.
Did he know I was trying to breathe him in? I wanted to memorize his scent forever.
He removed his hands from his pockets so he could take my chin between his thumb and forefinger and study me.
“You didn’t sleep,” he stated.
I wasn’t sure if he expected a reply, but when he gently pinched my chin, I opened my mouth and said, “No, I didn’t sleep much.”
“What kept you up last night?”
I swallowed. “Thoughts of you.”
“Honest response. What kind of thoughts about me?” His gaze seemed to darken.
I blushed and looked away from him.
Thankfully, he didn’t continue the line of questioning. He took my hand, linking his fingers through mine. I looked down at our clasped palms.
Hadrian did not strike me as one who enjoyed public displays of affection, but maybe this wasn’t that at all. Maybe this was nothing more than a show of possession, of command.
He stalked toward the exit of The Rex Hotel with me in tow. A doorman opened the door and we stepped out into the cool Manhattan air.
A driver in a chauffeur uniform waited by an idling Rolls. With a nod from Hadrian, the driver opened the back door and then took my suitcase to store it. Hadrian gestured for me to get in first.
The reality of the situation dawned on me and panic hit me hard and fast in the chest. My instincts screamed to escape.
