Bought And Paid For (Part One)

by North, Paige

  Jayne slips her finger underneath my chin and raises my gaze to hers. “I want you to know that you can tell me anything, Harlow.” Jayne swallows, as if she feels my pain. “And if you want to talk about that one night when your mother knew she had to do something to permanently stop his cruelty, I’m here.” She smiles gently. “I’m here for anything.”

  I can only nod.

  I haven’t talked to anyone about all this stuff except for the mail-order bride website, and that’s only because I had to. I doubt Jayne really wants to hear the details of how the last time Mom tried to escape my father, he put her in the hospital and told her if there was ever a next time, she would end up in the morgue.

  And I can’t blame mom for deciding that there wouldn’t be a next time.

  I can’t even talk to anyone else about how Mom used a damned hammer to kill my dad in his drunken sleep and then called the police and turned herself in. Ever since then, she’s been in jail, and the bail for her release was set at $100,000 — an absurd amount. Mom had only a public defender, but she really needs a more experienced lawyer now.

  Every day I’ve cursed myself for letting this happen. I’d been away at college, trying to better my life so I could better my entire family’s life. I had grand plans of escaping with them from the house one day. But then word came down about the killing and, in one fell swoop, my father was dead and my mother was taken away. Since the kids needed me, I returned back home to work and care for them, but things only got worse. The need to pay for a lawyer and find the money to free Mom haunted me, and that meant somehow making way more money than I’d ever imagined in my wildest dreams.

  And that’s when I found the mail-order bride website. Men have always been the last thing on my mind, especially when most of my experience with them came through dealing with my maniacal father. But then I saw how much money I could earn.

  So I did it. I sold myself on that website, choosing who I wanted to work with, monitoring the bidding war, and ending up here.

  I think Jayne can see all the worry and gloom in my gaze, because she smiles again at me. “You have questions.”

  “Yes. I don’t understand why Dr. Vangelis chose me from that site. He obviously knows about my mom’s situation.”

  “And he thought you were still perfect for this job. You’ve got a heart the size of the sun, Harlow — you’ve shown that with your charity work. And as far as connecting you with your mother goes, Rick Vangelis has a PR team at his disposal, and they’re damned good. Also, you don’t have your mom’s last name, so—”

  “That will help?”

  “Yes, that will help.” Jayne links her arm with one of mine and starts pulling me out of the room. “Let’s go brighten your life, sunshine.”

  “How?”

  She laughs that slightly unhinged laugh again. “By Shopping with a capital S, my dear, and we are going to slay Grayson Royal’s credit card in the process!”

  * * *

  And, hours later, after we return to the mansion, Jayne has made good on her promise. I’m floored by how freely she used that credit card as I gape at all of our purchases spread out on my bed.

  So this is what it feels like to be giddy!

  “Go ahead,” Jayne says as she stands by my side, rubbing her hands together. “Dive in to this beautiful mess!”

  I give her an unsure look.

  “Go!”

  Like an utter fool, I squee and then jump into the midst of all the silk and satin and lace that make up the lingerie section. We bought a load of conservative suits and gowns that will be delivered soon, but Jayne decided to throw in this sexy stuff just for giggles, even though I told her there would be no sex with the jerk.

  But you know what? I’m glad she insisted. As I roll through the smooth material, it glides against my skin, and I’ve never felt so free. We both laugh like loons.

  Then Jayne shoos me out of the room, telling me to take advantage of the mansion while Grayson is still in the city at his office.

  “From what you told me while we were shopping,” she says, “you seem to have a thing for that game room, so have at it. Frankly, I have no idea why it even exists since I suspect that Mr. Royal wouldn’t understand ‘fun’ if it bit him in the ass.”

  “Then why does he have a collection of games?”

  “Because he can.” Jayne shrugs. “When you’re as rich as he is, you can afford to collect anything.”

  I guess she’s right, and I hurry down the stairs to play Ms. Pac-Man, just to see if I can beat my own score from last evening. So far, my scores are the only ones that pop up on the screen after each game, so I think I’m the first person to even be in that room. It almost makes me sad because all those games need someone play them. Why not me?

  I’m halfway down the stairs when my phone rings with a generic tone, but when I look at the screen, I see the words MOM’S VERY TEMPORARY PLACE.

  It’s the jail where they’re keeping my mother.

  I answer right away, and an operator asks me if I’ll accept a collect call. Of course I accept, and when Mom comes on the line, I blurt, “Mama!”

  “Honey! How’re you doing?”

  I want to tell her that I’m working on her bail money, but I’m still not sure things are going to work out with Grayson, so I keep the news to myself. “I’m fine. How’re you doing?”

  “I’m trying hard to stay strong, but the time away from you kids and the uncertainty of what’s going to happen to me is rough, honey.”

  The coming trial has to be breaking her spirits too, and, once again, I’m tempted to tell her that I’m taking care of everything.

  It’s all I can do to stay strong, just like Mom is doing. “Mama, listen to me. I will get you the bail money, and we’re going to prevail in court with a great lawyer.”

  “Sweetheart...”

  “Just trust me. Believe in me.”

  A long pause makes tears well up in my chest. My mom is such a hero, and I wish she understood just how grateful my sisters and brother and I are for what she did. She doesn’t belong in prison. She did the world a favor when she got rid of that monster.

  “I believe you,” Mom says. “Actually, in this place, faith is all I have left.”

  And that’s exactly why I’m going to succeed in this job with Grayson Royal — even if I have to swallow my pride and humble myself every day to please him.

  Grayson

  I’m in my office, which I consider to be my fortress, with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the Boston Common. It used to be that my mansion was my home, but now that it has been invaded by a woman who is not there by my invitation, I need somewhere else to steal off to.

  I’m wrapping things up for the day when Rick Vangelis wanders into my chrome-and-glass domain and closes the door behind him. He loves his work as much as I love mine, but today he is wearing a frown.

  “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” I rise from the white leather chair behind my glass-topped desk and plant my hands on the surface. “What is that look on your face about?”

  “I’ve got good news, Grayson.”

  Then why do I get the feeling that his good news is about to be my bad news?

  “I had a meeting today with Jake Foreman,” Rick says.

  He stands there for a moment, allowing this news to sink in. Everyone in my business knows who Jake Foreman is — the CEO of Avilus, Inc., an enormously successful biotech giant that is easily ten times the size of Colossus Pharma. Foreman has been courting our company lately, and since Avilus, is extremely conservative with a family-friendly image, my bad feeling only gets worse.

  “And what was this meeting about, Rick?”

  My partner clears his throat and shuffles his feet. “We have the opportunity to grow our business by leaps and bounds...”

  “Rick,” I say. “Just come out with it.”

  “All right. Foreman and I discussed a merger, and if it goes through, we’ll stand to make more than triple our net wo
rth on stock options alone.”

  I narrow my eyes. “So let me get this straight... You want to make a deal with Jake Foreman, who’s been pushing you to oust me.” I stand up to my full height, keeping my cool, which is slowly turning into a vicious burn. “I don’t see how this is good news.”

  “But it is!” Rick’s expression brightens with the optimism I’m used to seeing. “I explained to Foreman that you’ve met a woman and you seem ready to settle down. He was quite skeptical about that, but he was very curious.” He clears his throat. “We’re in a position to convince him that merging with us is a good move, but there’s no way I’m letting you walk into the lion’s den without some practice. That’s why I want to have dinner with you and Miss Turner tomorrow night.”

  Great.

  Rick forges on. “It will be a test-run for the day you and Harlow are introduced to the people at Avilus, Inc. We’re only going to get one opportunity to breed confidence in Jake Foreman about this merger. He’s got to see firsthand that you’ve changed — and it needs to be believable. Tomorrow, you’ll show me that you’re ready for prime time.”

  Seething, I slowly turn away from Rick, facing the window instead. Below me, people are walking through the park. There are some couples holding hands with dogs happily trotting in front of them. Everyone down there seems so carefree. Meanwhile, here I am, getting more caged in by the second.

  I still don’t understand why I am being held under the thumb of so many people when all I have done is save lives with my research and make this company shitloads of money.

  Rick says, “In case I didn’t emphasize it enough, this test-run dinner is not an option. This is an opportunity that we cannot pass up.”

  Then I hear the door close, but that doesn’t put an end to the anger surging through my veins. All my life, I have been grasping for control. I have secured it for my family with all the money I have made, but as far as my life goes, the bullshit never ends. It seems that I am always going to be controlled by something else, and the fact that Jake Foreman has stepped in to navigate my life makes me want to put a fist through the wall.

  I leave the building even more frustrated than when I came into it. When I get back to my mansion, I go straight to the west wing. Now that Jake Foreman has come on the scene, it is more imperative than ever that my mail-order bride lives up to every expectation.

  I find her in the game room with Jayne. It is their laughter that leads me to them, and I linger outside the entrance, not quite knowing what to do with the joyful sound. It tries to ease its way into me, but I will never be able to join them. There is too much at stake right now, and I don’t have any time to fool around.

  The minute I fill the doorway, the laughter dies. Harlow and Jayne are at the billiards table, and Harlow stands up straight, as if ice just flew down her spine at the sight of me. I am not sure how she manages to look so sunny while, at the same time, seeming so wary of the stranger who just interrupted their game.

  As she watches me with those big blue eyes, a sharp ache needles me from my chest to my cock.

  Fuck this ache.

  Jayne puts away her cue, and then she breezily walks over to me. At the same time, I can’t take my eyes off of Harlow, even though I know it would be best if I didn’t indulge myself too much with thoughts of undoing every button on that skimpy spring dress that she is still wearing. Anger bubbles inside me even more as I wonder why she isn’t already dressed in one of the conservative outfits she was instructed to buy.

  “Jayne, exactly what did you get done on your first day?” I ask.

  “We got our shopping done, Mr. Royal. While we ate dinner, we studied the ins and outs of Colossus Pharma so Harlow will be able to converse about your business the first time she goes out in public. We were just taking a bit of a break here in the game room.” She smiles at me. “You do know what a break is, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Jayne. I have heard of the concept.”

  This whole time, Harlow hasn’t looked away from my intense stare. I have to hand it to her — there aren’t many people who can withstand my scrutiny. And none of them have the power to undo me second by torturous second with the sight of their lovely blue eyes and breezy long curls, which will need to be tamed into a more conservative hairstyle going forward.

  Jayne knows when to leave well enough alone, and with a little wave to Harlow, she leaves the room. Harlow smiles at her, but when she meets my gaze again, that smile disappears.

  “Are you ready to start your job in earnest?” I ask.

  Harlow raises her chin an inch. “Yes, I am.”

  “We are having an important dinner with my business partner tomorrow night, and just to let you know how important it is, you should consider this to be a test. If you fail to show Dr. Vangelis that you are capable of passing muster as the love of my life, you go home.”

  I see something like fear crawl through her gaze. But then she tenses up and chases it away. “Don’t you mean if we fail?”

  Fuck, she’s got some steel. “The first thing you need to do is show me some of those outfits you bought today so I can decide what is most appropriate for tomorrow evening.”

  She doesn’t budge. I don’t think she likes being ordered around.

  “We will have the fashion show up in your room,” I say tightly. “Let’s go.”

  Without a word, we both relocate upstairs to her bedroom. As I sit down in a velvet chair, I try not to think about tales of princesses who are kept in towers, locked away, even though the similarity to Harlow’s situation has struck me several times over.

  She closes the door to her walk-in closet, and as I wait for her, my cock clenches in agonizing awareness of what she is doing just out of my sight. She is stripping off that simple dress of hers inch by inch, revealing more and more flesh. All that is separating us is the door, and it takes most of my willpower not to open it for a view of her smooth skin, her curves, the beautiful breasts that her hippie outfits don’t hide, and the tight ass that I would love to cup and squeeze as I pull her against my hard cock.

  Blood thunders to my dick, and I grip the sides of the chair. When she walks out of the closet in a blue, no nonsense designer sheath, I shake my head.

  “No.”

  Harlow doesn’t complain. She only turns around and goes back into the closet, closing the door behind her again. The next time she comes out, she is wearing a beige cocktail dress with sparkly fringes that sweep against her shapely, long legs.

  Too flippant.

  “No.”

  Harlow clenches her hands at her sides. “I think this one is quite pretty.”

  “It is too flirty for the occasion. You are not out to seduce my business partner.”

  There is something in my tone that I don’t recognize — something dark and tense. If I were the kind of man who gets jealous, that might be what it is.

  “Next dress,” I say through my teeth.

  Harlow goes on to try three more outfits, and the answer is always the same.

  No. No. No.

  Finally, as she stands before me in a pink beaded gown that actually makes her look like a teenage girl headed to prom, she loses her cool. “I have no idea what you want, Mr. Royal.”

  “We can start by having you call me Grayson. If we are going to sell this idea of intimacy and epic love, you need to stop calling me Mr. Royal and I need to stop calling you Miss Turner.” I sigh in exasperation. “Next dress?”

  Harlow stares at me for a few heavy moments, and I know I have pushed her to her limit. She turns on her heel, goes back into the closet, and softly closes the door behind her. And it is not the kind of soft closing of a door that bodes well for anything. Somehow, I sense some spite in the gesture. And when she comes out of the closet again, my theory is confirmed.

  I sit up in my chair as she stands before me in a filmy, white baby doll nightie that shows off the length of her legs and all that tanned, luscious skin. It’s innocent enough to cover up everything a nightie shoul
d be hiding, but it’s also erotic enough to hint boldly at what’s beneath.

  My cock pounds in utter anguish. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Trying stuff on for you. You don’t like this?”

  Goddammit. “Where the hell did that even come from?”

  She shrugs. “Jayne thought it might be fun to throw in a few sassy numbers.”

  Jayne. She has a cheeky side, and it looks as if it’s inspired the same sort of nonsense in Harlow.

  There’s something going on that I’m not used to, something Harlow brings out in me, and all I can do is replace it with anger. That’s all I know how to do. “You will take back everything that you and Jayne bought today and return them. Get better stuff.”

  “Better stuff?”

  I’m still trying like hell not to look at that fucking nightie. Little by little, I’m being taken over by the urge to get out of this damned chair, storm over to Harlow, and then sweep her to that big, inviting bed that’s only a few yards away. “Yes, better stuff. As in more appropriate outfits, once you stop being such a smartass and get your head back in this game.”

  She sighs. “Don’t be ridiculous! We don’t have time to get a whole new wardrobe. You’ll probably hate all the new stuff anyway.”

  I can’t take my gaze off of her beautiful tits, which are outlined so temptingly under that filmy material. I keep imagining what her lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. I’m falling fast down the rabbit hole of desire, and there’s nothing for me to grab onto.

  I slowly stand from the chair. “Do as I say or get the hell out of here. Don’t question me, Harlow.”

  She widens her eyes as if she can sense the tension — and my temperature — rising. She looks frustrated too, all flushed and breathing heavily.

  Then, out of nowhere, she laughs.

  I take a few steps closer to her. “What the hell is so funny?”

  “You,” she snarls.

  She reminds me of a tiny, adorable thing that’s been backed into a corner. A kitten that has no idea what she’s toying with.