by Anya Summers
For a split second, he thought, Screw it. I want her, and she clearly wants me.
It took all his energy to battle back the need raging through his being—the part of him that wanted to fuck her long and hard until she was screaming with release.
“Come on. We need to go talk to Michael.” He left no room for her to disagree. Using the hand holding her hands in bound cuffs, he towed her behind him to the elevator.
She didn’t struggle or argue further with him. In the elevator, she stared at him with owl eyes, her lips still swollen from his kiss.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. He had been more than demanding of her. She had tripped the beast in him he rarely let out, even with well-educated subs.
“For what?” she whispered.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. It won’t happen again,” Dante said as the doors opened onto the penthouse level. He couldn’t let himself touch her again.
Before she had a chance to respond, he led her into the penthouse. Michael was sprawled on one of the Chesterfield sofas, a glass of scotch in his hand, and the bottle a third of the way empty.
“I leave you alone for a few minutes, and look at you,” Dante said.
Michael swiveled his head, cocking a brow. “Morning already? Why is the maid in handcuffs?”
Dante sighed. “I need you to sober up. I think I’ve found a solution to our little problem.” He nodded at Sabrina.
At that, both Michael’s brows rose. “Is that a fact?”
“I need to speak with you alone, Michael.”
Michael nodded and rose, taking his glass and the bottle with him into the kitchen.
“Why don’t you have a seat on the couch, love? We’ll be with you in just a moment,” Dante said, nudging Sabrina onto the sofa.
Her gaze darted to the elevator. With a grimace, he leaned down and located one of the hidden chains on the back ledge of the couch, then connected it to her cuffs. The move put her arms up, behind her head. He drew the chain tighter. That way she wouldn’t be able to get them undone.
“Dante? What the hell?” she sputtered.
“You’re a flight risk. And right now, we need you, and I don’t have time to go chasing you all over the Quarter.”
Dante left her cursing him. He’d give her credit for the inventiveness of her cussing. He plodded into the kitchen, eyeing his best friend. He and Michael had known each other for more than a decade, and had been topping subs together for almost as long. He knew Michael as well as he knew himself. But he’d not realized how much this attack from inside his company was hurting Michael.
“What’s with bringing the maid here tonight? Why is she wearing your shirt and spitting mad? Have you been fucking her on the side?” Michael asked, pouring two fingers of scotch into his empty glass.
“Knock it off with the scotch. I need you sober and level-headed.”
“Yeah, well, I’m way past that. You didn’t answer the question,” Michael said, and tossed back the scotch as if it were water.
“I found Sabrina at my club, on stage, stripping.”
“No shit.” Michael glanced across the open space between the living room and the kitchen, giving her a once over, and then back at Dante. “I never figured her for the type.”
“It was her first night. I pulled her off stage before she could get all the way down to just a thong.”
“Pity. That might have been a sight to behold. And you brought her here, why?” Michael quirked a brow with interest.
“You need a fake fiancée, right? She’s already been vetted by Quinten and his background checks. She’s someone the board would never suspect. And she’s been coming to the penthouse for the last two years.”
“Yeah, as the maid,” Michael said with a shake of his head.
“Don’t be obtuse. How would anyone know why she was really here if the story you used was that your relationship has been lowkey?”
Michael considered him. “We’d need to do something about her wardrobe. But again, why her?”
“I think she’s in a tight spot. Mentioned she was at the club stripping cause she needed money. We make it a business transaction with a non-disclosure agreement, much like with the club. She already had to sign an NDA to clean for us in case she heard something she wasn’t supposed to.”
“You think she could be the spy?” Michael jutted his chin her way.
“No. You said yourself—before you decided to crawl inside the bottle—that it was likely someone who had watched us top a sub together. That wouldn’t be Sabrina. Think, man, she’s the best one suited for the job.”
“And we make it worth her while financially, is that what you’re saying?” Michael asked drolly.
“She’s desperate enough to strip, so I say yes. It’s not like we don’t have more money than we will ever be able to spend in three lifetimes,” Dante exclaimed, his level of frustration rising. Here he was trying to save the man’s ass—all of theirs, perhaps—and he was being stubborn and picky when they didn’t have the time for it.
“Fair enough. But I want to know what she needs the money for. If it’s gambling or a drug issue, it’s best we know now. I can’t have more of a problem. And if it’s nothing but debt she needs help with, then you’re right. She could be the ticket we need. I figure ten large should cover it, and entice her into saying yes.”
“Agreed. That’s a fair amount, and it’s not like it isn’t a drop in the bucket for you. Let’s find out whether she’s up for it,” Dante stated with a jerk of his head, and trod the short distance back into the living room. He was just as curious, and interested in her response.
Chapter 5
Sabrina observed the two big men sauntering toward her. It was like looking at an archangel and the devil. Michael, with his cultured, blond good looks that dripped confidence and wealth. Dante, with his dark hair and gaze exuding a sensuality that blared he was comfortable with himself, and with indulging in his passions.
Passion that he’d given her the barest taste of in the parking garage. Her lips still tingled from his kiss and the black stubble shrouding a pair of the most perfectly formed male lips she had ever seen. She could still taste him, like an aged brandy she had sampled long ago.
“Sabrina, Dante tells me you decided to branch out and try the world of exotic dancing at Bayou,” Michael commented, taking a seat on the couch across from her. Dante sat beside him.
Really, they were too handsome for their own good and, paired together like they were, every woman’s darkest fantasy brought to life.
“And your point?” she asked testily. Really, how much shaming was she supposed to endure tonight?
Michael leaned forward in his seat, that indigo gaze boring holes into her, like he was attempting to peel back all her layers and get down to the core of her being. “I need you to be honest with us. Why are you resorting to stripping?”
“What I do in my free time is none of your business. You don’t own me.”
“You need to answer us, love,” Dante said with a frustrated sigh, like he was the one being put out.
“I don’t have to do anything of the sort. You’re the one restraining me against my will, kissing me, and dragging me here. I should file kidnapping charges against you,” she snapped. She wanted to bash both their heads in, and she wasn’t normally the violent type.
“You kissed her?” Michael asked Dante, his gaze dipping to her mouth. “I can see why. She is rather delectable. If she agrees, she will need to get used to it, just not from you. At least, not out in public or at the club, anyhow.”
“There will be no kissing. There will be no anything. I promise not to press charges if you just let me go,” she pleaded. She wanted to go home and sob out her sorrows, while she still had a home to go to.
“We’ll see about that. Answer the question, or you will find yourself cleaning for someone else,” Michael demanded.
“You’re going to fire me?” Fear struck her in lacerating waves. Without this job,
she’d be sunk—more than she already was. They would be destitute.
Michael sighed. “I can’t have a dishonest individual working for me. Answer the question.”
“Remove the cuffs first and I will.” She lifted her bound hands as high as she could and pressed her lips together to hide their trembling.
Michael and Dante glanced at one another, having a silent conversation she wasn’t privy to. Michael nodded. Dante rose, walked around the coffee table, and sat beside her. He took her hands in his much larger ones. Goosebumps shivered along her spine at the simple touch—far simpler than what had occurred at his car.
It had been a long time since she had been kissed by anyone; not since she was a teenager, before the weight of the world fell on her shoulders. And never before had she been kissed in that toe-curling manner that left her blind and aching to all but him. She’d not expected it, which had made its impact that much more startling. Dante had surprised her with the kiss. Then again, the entire night had taken on a dreamlike quality.
And the strangest thing of all was, she wanted him to kiss her again. It was the most carnal kiss she had ever received; it had turned her inside out, and left her drowning in a sea of desire more potent than anything she tasted.
His scent surrounded her. And for a second, she wanted to lean on his broad shoulders, let him shoulder the burdens she carried. She was just so tired from working herself ragged; stressed out, and depleted in every way that mattered.
She rubbed her wrists once the shackles were removed. It wasn’t that they’d hurt, but they had put her at a huge disadvantage with the two alphas. And right now, she needed all the help and appearance of confidence she could muster.
“They’re off, but you’re not leaving. Explain,” Dante ordered.
She had made an agreement, and she always honored her word. “I resorted to stripping because I need the money, okay?”
“Why?” Michael asked her, his gaze narrowed.
“I have a lot of bills,” she explained. She didn’t owe them an explanation of what those bills were, or why she was in debt over her head.
“Love, we need a bit more than that.” Dante attempted to draw it out of her with a smile.
“For what, drugs? Gambling debts? You need to be more specific,” Michael ordered.
Sabrina hated admitting her problems because in her experience, it gave others an opening to tell you what you were doing wrong. She debated what to tell them, and how much.
“Sabrina,” Dante murmured with an edge of steel.
Defeated from the night, from her life of nothing but sucker punches, she conceded. “My brother’s sick. He needs round the clock care, and the cost of his medications whittled away everything our parents left us. I’ve tried keeping up with all the bills but haven’t been able to manage his medical expenses and the cost of living with what I make. And there’s no one else, no family left whom I can count on or we could move in with to defray some of the burden.”
The hard-edged glint in Michael’s gaze softened. “Why didn’t you tell us? Come to me with this before? I would have helped you out.”
“I won’t take handouts. I earn my keep.” She straightened her spine. She might not have much, but she had her pride. She hated being seen as someone lacking, felt that it was a reflection on her and her abilities.
“Easy, love, Michael just meant we would have given you a raise, that’s all,” Dante explained gently.
“What does it matter? I failed tonight, and because of that, my brother will pay the price. We’re being evicted because I’m behind with the rent and frankly, tonight was my last hope for making the money needed to keep a roof over our heads. I don’t know what to do anymore.” She valiantly fought back tears. If she allowed even one to fall, it would open the floodgate and she would be useless to everybody. She didn’t have time to be weak.
“Remember how I told you I was going to be your fairy godmother?” Dante murmured.
“Yes,” she said, looking between the two alpha males. What did they want from her?
Michael cocked his head. “That’s where we come in. I have a proposition for you. I need you to pose as my fiancée to appease the board members of one of my companies. I will need you to act in that capacity, appearing with me at functions for thirty days, and continuing to play the role for ninety days—but during the last two months, you won’t be required to appear at functions with me. If you agree, I will pay you: the first half at the end of the thirty days, and then the final half at the end of ninety.”
What? Pretend to be his fiancée? The man was like a gazillionaire. This couldn’t be real. “How much?” she asked, wondering what a man like him would consider equitable.
“Ten million ought to cover it,” Michael said blandly, like most people would say ten bucks—as if it were nothing.
Ten million dollars? Sabrina couldn’t even imagine what having money like that would be like. The thought of what she could do with that much… She could put Alex into the specialized living facility that catered to patients with severe psychological disorders—a nice one, so he would have the round the clock care he so desperately needed. She could take a vacation, a real one, where she didn’t have to clean for anyone else or take care of someone else.
The guilt was swift and almost choked her. His condition wasn’t Alex’s fault.
“What are the parameters?” she asked Michael.
He settled back in his seat, the light of victory flashing in his gaze. “Public PDA. The story will be that we’ve been together for a year, and have just decided to go public now that we are engaged. I will pay for a wardrobe for you, and all the accessories.”
“Sex?” she asked.
His thick golden brows rose. “It’s not a requirement.” His gaze skimmed over her. “But I wouldn’t say no to bedding you.”
“But don’t you like to share women?” And she didn’t fully understand why, but the thought of having sex with both men at once made her stomach flutter and clench. A woman would be surrounded by them, protected by them, and there was a part of her she didn’t recognize, that had been buried under the weight of responsibilities, that wanted it—and wanted it badly.
“We do, under normal circumstances. But any of the public PDA would be just you and Michael without me around,” Dante explained.
Of the two men, she was more at ease with Dante. He’d always been friendly to her, while Michael was more of a mystery. He was nice, but had been aloof in most of their dealings. “What else?”
“You will live here or at the mansion on the river road, travel with me when I need you to, and appear at any function that I deem requires your presence over the next thirty days.”
“Basically, I would be at your beck and call,” she stated, mulling it over. If she did this, money would no longer be an issue. Ever. Not if she invested wisely, and she was sure that if she asked them to help her with that, they would.
“You would. But that’s why I would make it worth your while. And you would need to sign a new NDA. If word of this got leaked anywhere, it would ruin lives, and not just mine. Do you understand?”
Could she do this? Sabrina glanced between the two men—two men she knew to be honorable and kind. She still wasn’t sure she’d forgiven Dante for that stunt at Bayou Sin, but he also hadn’t been lying about the fact he would be her fairy godmother before the night was done. “If I agreed to do this, would I be able to get an advance? There’s an assisted living facility that I’ve wanted to get my brother into for years but I couldn’t afford it. With his condition, he needs round the clock care.”
“I’m amenable to that. Would a hundred grand suffice for your brother’s care?” Michael asked.
A hundred thousand dollars? Was the man serious? With that kind of money, she wouldn’t have to wait to get Alex admitted for the care he needed. She could do it by the end of the week. She could pay off what she owed her landlord. And when it was all over, she could look for a new place for herself, somewh
ere quiet, with a lot of trees, and near the water. “Yes, that would work for me.”
“I will also set up an account for you for incidentals, and provide you with a vehicle to use. The remainder of the payout comes as I mentioned, with five million after thirty days are completed, then the remainder at the ninety day mark, where it will become known that we split up amicably. If you are in agreement, we can get the contract and non-disclosure out of the way tonight. Once those are done, I will transfer the advance into an account of your choosing.”
This was all moving so fast. But what did she have to lose, really? When she thought about it, she had nothing to lose, and ten million to gain. So she had to kiss Michael in public, make it appear like she was in love with him. Big deal. For this type of money, she would turn handstands in public. “What kind of PDA are we talking about?”
Michael flashed her a seductive grin. “Kissing, perhaps some light petting, hand holding—nothing too excessive, mind you. It’s society functions we will be attending, and people at those tend to frown upon anything beyond that. We will need to practice this week, though, in private, make sure that you feel and act natural with me touching you.”
And there was the catch. How was she going to feel normal; act it? While she knew him, he was a stranger to her.
Dammit, she would find a way. This was money she couldn’t walk away from.
“What’s it going to be, love?” Dante asked her, with the carrot of a ten million dollar payout hanging in the balance.
Screwing up her courage, she replied. “I’m in. Where do I sign?”
Chapter 6
The following day, Sabrina stumbled out of bed in time to let the nurse, Nancy, in at nine. Nancy was a middle-aged woman, plump around the middle, with the kindest smile, and she was fabulous with Alex, who was stirring, waking up for the day. With the medications he was on to keep him calm with his episodes, and subsequent outbursts caused by his severe schizophrenia, he tended to be drowsy in the mornings and start the day slowly.
