“So you wouldn’t value that highly.”
“I never said that.”
“But it would be on the—what did you call it?—the menu.”
“It might. It would depend.”
Her lips flattened a bit with frustration. “What would it depend on?” She used a tone of exaggerated patience that didn’t bother him in the least.
To convey that, he shrugged elaborately, affecting a careless attitude. “On my mood.”
“Is that so?” She sounded dangerous, her temper rising. “Don’t toy with me.”
“Oh, but you’re so much fun to toy with, Celestina.”
She gritted her teeth. “You’re trying to get a rise out of me.”
“It’s working, too,” he pointed out. Then had to laugh at her expression of combined anger and chagrin, compounded by frustrated desire. “Eat your lunch and let me explain what I have in mind.”
He handed her the wrapped box containing her version of the mini-tablets Cat had brought by just before dawn, as promised. He’d sent one of his assistants out to find a case for it and she’d found a lovely, discreet one, then wrapped the gift for him. One that Celestina glowered at as if it were covered in greasy newspaper.
“What is it?”
“Not a poisonous snake. Open it.”
She held it in her hands, staring at the package, then set it on the table and pressed the tip of her finger to the corner of her eye, the way women did to check their makeup. The glimmer on her lashes, however, made him realize she brushed away a tear. He reached out and took her hand. “What’s the problem?”
“Nothing.” She shook back her thick hair, which had started rioting in the ocean breeze, then pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “I’m sorry. I know I’m all over the place emotionally.”
“It’s fine. You’re charming. What about the gift got to you? One, I might point out, you still haven’t opened.”
She laughed a little and pulled her hand out of his grip, working off the bow. “It’s dumb. It’s just been a long time since anyone gave me something. It’s...so pretty.”
That grated on him. “What about your nieces?”
“Well, I can’t afford to give them an allowance, so I told them not to waste what little spending money they do have on me. Linda, my other friends—I asked them not to, since I couldn’t reciprocate.”
“Fuck them for that.”
She paused in lifting the lid off the box and gave him a strange look. “They respected my wishes.”
“They took the easy way out. A gift is a gift, Celestina. Not an equivalent market exchange.”
Almost she said something back to that, which he would have accepted as he’d opened himself up to it, with their particular version of bartering. But she let it go and finished opening the box, drawing out the folio and reflexively stroking the smooth leather with appreciative fingers. He soothed himself by indulging in a flash fantasy of those fingers stroking him the same way. Today hadn’t been anywhere nearly enough.
“It’s lovely,” she said, finding the snap and opening it. “A tablet? You can’t give me this.”
He sighed. “We’ll pretend you stopped at ‘lovely.’ Besides, I can because you’ll need it. Go ahead and swipe it on. It will ask you to establish a security code. Pick a good one. One your curious nieces won’t be able to guess.”
“So no using my birthday.”
“Speaking of which, when is your birthday?” He withdrew his phone from his inside jacket pocket and opened the calendar.
“Soon, actually.” She frowned at the tablet, at least taking the code seriously.
“The date, Celestina.”
She glanced up to see him poised to enter it. “You don’t need to do that.”
He stared her down until she threw up one hand in a dramatic gesture. “Whatever. March 9.” She grimaced as he keyed it in. “Don’t make a deal about my birthday, okay?”
“Are you instructing me as you did your friends and family?”
“No. I mean, yes—in a way. I’m saying I don’t need that. I don’t want you to feel...obligated or anything—now I’ve made you angry.”
“You reckon so?”
“You know.” She set down the tablet. “You’re very interesting. You seem all polished and polite, charming even. Then you go zero to sixty, from relaxed to totally pissed. Yes, it’s obvious. Fine. Make a deal of my birthday. Though I don’t get why you’d want to.”
“Then let me make something clear to you. I thought I had, but apparently not. No matter how we’ve come to this point, to this deal we’re cementing—” he tapped the tablet cover meaningfully and she eyed it with speculation “—you and I are entering an exclusive relationship. We will be open about seeing each other. You’ll accompany me to functions. I will ‘make a deal’ of your birthday if I wish to because I’m not a cad who ignores such things.”
“You do make speeches.” She measured him, looking into him with that insightful way of hers, then seemed satisfied. “I suppose I’d better ask when yours is then.”
“You just missed it, so you’re safe. January 18.”
“You’re a Capricorn then. That explains a great deal.”
“Surely you don’t believe that stuff.”
She tilted her head a little and gave him a shrewd look. “Shall I tell you the characteristics of a Capricorn and prove it to you?”
“Now I’m afraid.” But she’d regained her color, so he was willing to go along, amused that she seemed to be finding her way into teasing him in return. “Let’s hear it.”
“Pragmatic. Forthright. Ambitious, but with integrity. Disciplined. Driven to excel. Easygoing and deals with irascible people well. Willing to listen to others pour out their woes. Satirical, even dark sense of humor. Likes to be in control.”
With that last, her gaze dropped to his hands and then flicked to the tablet she had yet to explore. The sexual tension suddenly crackled in the air, thick, intensely exciting. Not just his, but emanating from her as well. Meeting and winding together.
“You made all that up,” he baited her, to see what she’d say, “tailored to suit what you know of me.”
“Think so? You could research it easily enough.” She avoided his gaze by entering the code into her tablet, swiping it on. “I assume this has internet access?”
“Actually it’s set only to communicate with mine.”
She looked up then, eyes darkening with something. Intrigue? Desire? But she only said, “How interesting.”
“More private that way.”
“I’m all for privacy.”
“There’s only one program on it—take a look.”
She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and folded it on the table, then studied the tablet without touching it. Back to the poisonous snake.
“Nervous?” he asked her for the second time. He liked that she’d owned up to it, that she offered up that level of emotional openness and trust. In many ways, exploring a woman’s emotional responses excited him as much as discovering her sexual ones—not only because the two were so profoundly intertwined.
“I don’t think I ever stopped being nervous, except—” She stopped herself, actually biting her lip to hold the words back. Too late.
“Except when?” He held her gaze, demanding the answer.
She stared back in consternation and seemed torn about how much to reveal.
“Shall I hazard a guess?”
“Fine. From the kiss on. I wasn’t nervous then. Until...after.”
“There is something to be said for getting swept up.”
“Yes.” She gave him a long look that made him wonder what she was thinking. Then, with the air of someone facing an onerous chore, she reentered her code into the tablet that had locked
itself as they talked. “This...what? Very formal agreement thing is about not getting swept up.”
“There’s something to be said for ritual and formality, too.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“It’s part of the discovery, isn’t it? Maybe you’ll find that going about things with deliberation and forethought changes how you experience it.”
She opened the program and scanned the screen. “I think I’m finding that you’re a very unusual man.”
“And you’re a perceptive and sensitive woman.” Perhaps more so than any he’d been privileged to know.
He waited as she looked through it, watching the flags of color deepen on her cheeks, itching to see exactly what made her catch her breath here or widen her eyes there. A form of discipline for himself, not to look. To sip his wine and savor the anticipation of seeing what she’d pick for their first planned encounter.
“Wow,” she finally said. Then took a long drink of her wine. He helpfully poured more for her, reining himself back from interrogating her about what exactly put the shine of excited desire in her eyes. He would find out soon enough. “So—you put all this stuff in there?”
“Yes. That’s just a start—what I had time for. You’ll see that there’s a section where I wrote out the basics of our agreement, ground rules. Let me know if you have questions or want to negotiate. Then there are specifics for elements of scenarios. I can continue to add to it from my end. As we try the scenarios and so forth that you pick and we discover how they go, what works and what doesn’t, I might add or subtract various menu items. My imagination will no doubt be inspired as we go forward. There’s also a messaging function, if we care to use it. It should have a calendar option, too.”
“I see the dollar values and we already had this conversation, so I’m not going to argue about how inflated they are.”
“Good. When you choose a scenario, you’ll see the final total. Then the program will send me your list, I’ll route you the sum, we can agree on a place and time and...” He loved the way she squirmed at the prospect. “And go from there.”
“I shouldn’t get the money until afterward.”
“No. You get it when you sign on the dotted line, as it were. I don’t want you hesitant to slow or stop a scenario because you’re thinking about the paycheck.”
“I can’t believe we’re discussing this. I’m thinking now that you might be very warped.”
He laughed, delighted with her. “Fun, isn’t it?”
She shook her head. “Okay. So nothing more today, I take it.”
“For me, anyway.” He pulled out his phone, unpleasantly surprised by the time, seriously tempted to cancel the afternoon’s meetings. But he’d stacked them up to carve out this more than half day already. Filling out the initial menu of all the ways he’d like to have, pleasure and torment Celestina had taken hours. Delicious, absorbing hours—but the time had to be paid for. “You, of course, can spend the time as you like. You’re welcome to stay here. Swim in the pool. Use the exercise room, if you like. Take a nap. Watch movies. Read. I have an extensive library, too.”
Of course you do,” she murmured, still with that odd look on her face.
It moved him to pick up her hand and kiss the back of it, a gesture that took her by surprise. “What is that look for?”
“I don’t have a look.”
“No, it’s gone now. What were you thinking?”
“I don’t have to tell you everything I think.” She stood, tugging her hand away as she did. “You know what I want to do?”
“Hopefully something to treat yourself.”
She laughed, as if at some private joke. “Actually, yes. I think I’ll get a haircut. A good one. And a pedicure.”
“Let me make you an appointment at the Oro Salon—you could spend the afternoon.”
She hesitated and he thought she might be stubborn about it. “All right, since I’m sure you have a way to wave your magic wand and make that happen. I’m paying for it myself, though.”
“What if I add something to the menu and pay for the visit if you agree to that?”
She picked up the tablet, fastened the folio closure and slipped it into her bag. Then put on her sunglasses, hiding her eyes behind the dark lenses. “I’ll think about it.”
Chapter Nine
She couldn’t quite decide how she felt about the—did she call it a date? Ryan would probably say so—coming to an end. Relief warred with a vague sense of disappointment. Also more than a bit of shame at not having her own meetings demanding her attention. Her mother and father both, God rest their souls, would not approve of her squandering hours having lunch—with wine no less!—and whiling away the rest of the afternoon at an outrageously expensive spa.
This is your job now, she told herself firmly. Ryan might enjoy the pretense that he wasn’t hiring her to perform sexual services, and she appreciated the lengths he’d gone to with the exquisite lunch, being charming and flirtatious, but neither of them could forget her real status. No being in denial about that. She’d seen that and it wasn’t pretty.
She’d once been a bridesmaid to a woman who, once the ring was on her finger, informed her husband she would only have sex with him when he bought her what she asked for. So far as Tina knew, he went along with it. She’d let the friendship quietly fade away.
At least she and Ryan knew up front what the expectations would be—he had a good point there. And going to the salon pretty much counted as job preparation, right? Being in his elegant home, surrounded by perfect things, not to mention the sleekly groomed man himself, made her strongly self-conscious of her untended cuticles and grown-out cheap haircut—not to mention the lack of pedicure in those sinfully sexy shoes. If he intended to parade her about as his plus-one at society functions, then she didn’t want his associates wondering if he’d lost his mind or was slumming it.
Though neither of those possibilities would be far from the truth.
In fact, she should probably be aware of his preferences for her appearance. Just another part of the job. Who was she kidding? If he put something in that diabolical menu of kink that he wanted her to have done at the salon, she’d do it. The illusion of free will here was just that—an illusion. So, as he walked with her back up the spectacular stone steps and escorted her to her car, she made herself ask, “Any other suggestions for my salon visit—hairstyle, nail color, anything?”
He glanced down at her, taking her elbow as they paused next to her car, his expression a mixture of amusement and aggravation as it had been since she arrived. Except the once she’d really pissed him off. Ostensibly over her birthday, too, which she hadn’t quite processed. Probably the insult that he’d do anything less than check all the correct boxes.
“Celestina,” he said, as always using her full name and lingering over it, even when he spoke with more exasperation than pleasure, “you might have me fairly pegged as someone who likes to be in control, but I am not a micro-manager. You are a beautiful woman who I’ve never seen be anything less than polished and put-together. I’m sure whatever you choose will be delightful.”
Absurdly, she wanted to argue, but that would get them nowhere.
“What about you—what does your birthdate say about you?”
Surprised at the rapid switch of topic, she had to think. “Pisces? Not pragmatic or driven or disciplined at all.”
“What you are, not what you’re not.”
“We’re the dreamers.” She waited for him to comment on that, but he only nodded, as if filing it away mentally.
“Fine. Then I guess, well...” She’d have to sit down, silence the nuns in her head, and pick some things off the tablet menu. “I’ll, ah, be in touch.”
“I look forward to hearing from you with great anticipation.” He nearly purred the words, sendin
g a thrill of renewed arousal through her system. When he leaned in, she reflexively lifted her lips, braced for—and to be brutally honest, hungry for—another of his sensual assaults. But he only brushed her cheek with a kiss as chaste and gentlemanly as when she arrived. “Until then, Celestina.”
She got in her car and drove away, aware that he stood and watched her go. In a few miles she’d stop and search for the address to Oro, plug the directions into her phone. Like she’d have any idea where it was, or even what it would be like except that it would be insanely expensive.
It felt good to laugh. To have a light wine buzz, more than a little of which came from having lunch in that gorgeous spot with a compellingly attractive man. And that list of sexual activities—she’d thought the top of her head might come off and she’d barely been able to form coherent thoughts. It hadn’t helped that she’d been so keenly aware of his attention on her, observing, even savoring her reactions.
Ryan might be solicitous of her comfort, a good listener and as charming as one could wish, but he definitely enjoyed toying with her. That would be a huge part of the thrill for him in this relationship. What she’d absorbed from his diabolical app made that very clear.
She would look at it tonight, after the twins were asleep, and find something in there that she could handle. For the time being, she had an afternoon to spend pampering herself and the sweet, sweet knowledge that the money would be there to pay the girls’ tuition. Tonight she’d send that check and pay some of the most pressing of the other bills.
For the first time in years, the grinding pressure of hopelessness had lifted, leaving her almost giddy with the surcease. Maybe people with chronic pain felt this way when they found a medication that worked. It would be worth it to put the debts behind her. She could play Ryan’s sex games and, if how she’d felt today was any indication, maybe even enjoy some of it. If nothing else, that kiss had proven to her that her sexual self had only been hibernating, not killed during those years with Noah. They’d play it through and she’d maybe get the debts to a manageable enough level to start over. From what she’d seen of Ryan so far, they’d part politely and she could go on with rebuilding her life.
Under Contract Page 8
