WALKING BACK TOWARD the bedroom, my mind flashed to the patio scene with Stewart. Oh my God! Did I really allow him to fuck me with his fingers? Had I really asked him to do it? What the hell was wrong with me? I hadn’t even known this man for twenty-four hours and I invited him to put his fingers inside of me! Was I honestly considering marrying him?
I thought back to the afternoon. Stewart had said that his cock wouldn’t enter me until I asked—until I begged. When he’d said that, I’d thought he was a narcissistic asshole. But after what just happened, I wasn’t sure.
Those thoughts and more danced through my head as I struggled to find sleep. Looking at my phone, I wanted to call Val and ask her advice. Perhaps I needed her calm, positive demeanor. Would she truly be able to look at this situation and see the positive, or would she tell me I was crazy and to run away as fast as I could?
The knock on the door brought me back to consciousness. Opening my eyes, I realized that despite all my tossing and turning, I’d finally fallen asleep and morning had arrived. Panic struck as I jumped and fumbled for my phone. Oh my God, what time was it? After being up so late with Stewart, did I oversleep? Before I could read the time, the knock came again.
“Miss Conway,” Lisa called from behind the door.
The numbers came into view: 5:30 AM. With a sigh of relief, I answered, “Come in.”
“I’m sorry to bother you so early. I know Mr. Harrington said that you have until half past seven, but he was hoping you’d have breakfast with him in his office and discuss any questions or concerns you may have. The final answer must be made by seven-thirty so that you can be taken to school if your answer is no.”
I exhaled, securing the covers around my lap. “Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I get dressed.”
Motioning toward the closet, Lisa said, “There are some jeans and shirts as well as underwear and bras in the closet. I believe they should all fit. There’re even some more comfortable shoes. I didn’t think you’d want to wear the black dress and heels back to school.”
“Lisa?”
Her eyes opened wide.
“I can’t believe I’m considering this.”
Her pursed lips tipped upward and the gleam came back to her eyes as she stepped toward the bed. “You are? After I spoke with you last night I got the feeling…”
I cocked my head. “Did you tell Mr. Harrington about our conversation? Did you tell him I had questions?”
“Not last night. It was late. I went to bed. However, I did tell him this morning that we’d spoke.” When I didn’t respond, she went on. “He asked me what time it was that we talked. Then he asked me to be sure you were awake and to ask you to join him in his office.” She sat on the edge of the bed and patted my blanket-covered leg. “My loyalty is to this household. Right now that means Mr. Harrington, but if the future contains a Mrs. Harrington, rest assured that I’ll be loyal to her as well.” With a wink she added, “Perhaps I already am. Now I’ll let you get ready, unless you need my assistance.”
Smiling, I replied, “No, thank you. I’ll be to his office as soon as I can.”
Tipping my head back, I heard the door shut and tried to concentrate on my questions about his contract. While clauses and addendums should have been front and center, memories of his hands, words, and warm breath filled my thoughts. Before I realized what I was doing, my hand snaked below the blankets and massaged my overly sensitive clit.
I’d never been one to spend much time masturbating. It was difficult when you shared a room; nevertheless, when I had, it was more of a way to relieve stress than a way to find pleasure. I’d been honest when I told Stewart I didn’t know if I’d had an orgasm. The relief I felt when my fingers rubbed my clit was nothing like the overpowering wave that hit me last night. I couldn’t help but wonder: if his fingers felt that good, would his cock be even better? How big was he? My hand moved faster as I imagined the possibilities. With the tension building, I remembered why I was in the luxurious penthouse and this enormous opulent bedroom. I remembered why my life was about to be sold and who was responsible. My hand stopped. There wasn’t enough self-pleasure in the world to make me come while thinking about my parents. Ultimately, this was all Randall’s fault. He was the one in financial trouble. He was the one who mentioned me to Stewart. If he hadn’t done that, Stewart Harrington wouldn’t even know my name, and I’d be sleeping in my dorm or studying for my advanced biology exam. No matter how great I felt coming apart on that balcony last night, nothing made up for what Randall had done to me. Nothing.
I continually reminded myself of that as I showered, dried my long brown hair, and secured it in a messy bun at the back of my head. Though the bathroom cabinets contained all kinds of cosmetics, I opted for a little mascara and lip-gloss. Rarely did I wear more than that. Well, I had worn more yesterday, but that was different. Today I looked more like me: an eighteen-year-old about to graduate high school.
The clothes Lisa mentioned fit perfectly. The jeans hugged my hips with tight, stretchy material and the top was a snug red t-shirt that showed just the right amount of cleavage: not too much to be slutty, but not too little to be prudish.
From the expression on Stewart’s face, when I entered his office and he looked up from the Wall Street Journal, I knew I’d done well. He looked different than he had yesterday too. Today he wasn’t as casual, dressed in a tailored gray suit with a teal tie. The color accentuated the ocean blue eyes that met mine and then slowly, unashamedly scanned my frame, up and down. Standing, he greeted, “Good morning, Miss Conway,” as he pulled back a chair.
Miss Conway? What happened to Tori?
Summoning my most sincere smile, I laid the tablet with my questions beside my place setting, accepted the chair he offered, and replied, “Good morning, Mr. Harrington.”
Just then, Lisa entered the office with a covered dish and set it before me. Raising the lid, she smiled and said, “I hope you like eggs and bacon.” Before I could answer, she asked, “What can I get you to drink?”
“Um, I’m fine with water.”
“Come, dear, we have many other options: coffee, tea, juice?”
Her endearment made me smile. “Thank you, orange juice would be wonderful.”
After she left, Stewart asked, “So you’re not a coffee or tea drinker?”
“Not really. I drink coffee sometimes when I’m studying late.” I glanced toward the cup near his plate. “But you are a coffee drinker, I see.”
“I am.” He smirked.
“What?”
“It seems as though we’re learning more and more about one another.”
I lowered my eyes to my plate. “I also don’t eat meat. I don’t mind that other people do. I just don’t.”
He reached across the table and scooped up the bacon and deposited it on his plate. “We didn’t know. What about eggs?”
Lifting my fork, I grinned. “I eat eggs, and scrambled is my favorite.”
Stewart leaned back and watched as I ate. Truthfully, the few grapes I’d eaten last night did little to suppress my hunger. With pink filling my cheeks, I remembered what had taken my mind away from food.
Looking toward my tablet, Stewart said, “I’m going to interpret your wanting clarification as a good sign. At least that means you weren’t prepared to come down here and just tell me no.”
Swallowing, I shook my head. “I believe it’s best to explore my options.”
Lifting his brow, he replied, “Hmmm, I like to explore as well.”
Shifting slightly in my seat, I asked, “What if I said yes right now? What would happen?”
“We’d wed on Thursday.”
“No, not that. What would happen with Randall and Marilyn, Marcus, Lyle, and Val?”
Stewart cleared his throat. “If you said yes, you and I would immediately leave here and go to my attorney’s office to sign the contract. We need witnesses, and Parker wants to go over some finer points with both of us present.”
“Parker?” I asked, feeling very intimidated. What attorney in his right mind would write up such an elaborate agreement, much less want to sit and discuss it?
“Parker Craven, of Craven and Knowles. He’s been my lead attorney for years.”
“I-I don’t know. Some of the things in the contract are pretty personal. I mean it spells out specifics about things like…”
“Sex.” Stewart volunteered. “Yes, Miss Conway.” Again with the Miss Conway? “If we are to wed and you’re to share my name and money, I expect sex. I expect birth control. I have many expectations centering on the way I want things. From our limited experience, I don’t foresee any of that being a problem; however, if you were to decide to withhold my desires from me, it would be grounds for termination of our contract. The only way to make that legal is to spell it out.”
“But I don’t know him. I don’t want to discuss my sex life with him.”
Stewart smirked. “You will know him. Though your parents believe that they live among the elite in Miami, they aren’t even close. This is a whole new world. Sometimes there’ll be instances that make you uncomfortable. When that happens, tell me. I’ll do what I can to help you. In this instance, I’ll be there with you. However, to make this all legal, the conversation with Parker is unavoidable.”
“Speaking of my parents, after we sign the contract, if we do, what happens to Randall?”
“I’ll give the go-ahead for the withdrawal of funds. Travis will take the funds to where they need to be, and Randall’s life will be spared.”
“Are you going to call him, let him know my decision?”
Stewart studied my face before answering. “Perhaps you’d prefer to make that call?”
My cheeks rose. “I haven’t made a decision. However, if I do, I think I’d like to wait until he calls me. After all, he and my mother put me in this situation, and other than a package with clothes and a note, I’ve yet to hear from them.”
He nodded approvingly. “Damn, sexy and bitchy. You, Miss Conway, get better by the minute. That is the perfect combination for success in my world.”
“And if I decide no, I also believe he can call me.”
“Yes, you, my darling, could make this work. So if…” he emphasized the word, “…you say yes, I’m assuming I won’t be burdened with my mother- and father-in-law’s presence?”
I shook my head. “It would probably be the first time in my life that they wanted to be around me. So, no fucking way. They want to sell me off to save their asses—that’s their business. But if they think I’m going to welcome them with open arms into this new crazy-assed life, they’re dumber than I imagined.”
Reaching across the table, Stewart secured my hand as his expression morphed. No longer did I see the business tycoon in a designer suit. His countenance softened, eyes widened, and he leaned toward me. “Tori, I’ve decided to make a change to the no file.”
My heart raced and body tensed as I awaited his explanation.
“I’ve changed my mind. If you chose to walk away today, I’ll double the amount of the check. You’re right: your parents have put you in an incredibly unfair position. One hundred thousand dollars should help you and your sister. As a matter of fact, if you keep your word, maintain your silence about what occurred here yesterday and today, and you ever need more money, don’t hesitate to contact me. I’ll give you my private cell number.”
The immediate excitement over the increase in money quickly faded. “I-Is that what you want me to do? Do you want me to leave? Is that why you keep calling me Miss Conway?”
He exhaled, leaned back, and resumed his businesslike tone. “I’m calling you by your name. Until the time that you choose to marry, Miss Conway is your name. This is a business deal. Formalities work best in business. Emotion clouds the real issues.”
I pulled my hand away. “So what was that last night? Was that clouding the issue? Because, to be honest, I was pretty clouded when I made my way back to my room.”
“No, Miss Conway, you were not clouded. For the first time in your life you were satiated. And if you make the right decision, it won’t be the last.”
“You just said to walk away.”
“I said it’s an option, one that just doubled in appeal.”
I squared my shoulders and straightened my neck. “Are both offers still on the table, or have you removed the second offer?”
His jaw clenched as he eyed me suspiciously. “Is it your intention to make me beg? Do you intend to hear me specify that I want you to take the offer of marriage so that you can turn it down?” His arms crossed his chest. “Miss Conway, let me make myself clear: I don’t beg.”
My façade of a smile remained unwavering yet inside, I wanted to scream. What the hell was this guy’s problem? If there were an award for sending mixed signals, he’d definitely be in the running. Hell, I’d nominate him myself. Finally, prying my pursed lips apart, I said, “Well, Mr. Harrington, neither do I.”
Stewart looked at his watch. “Your time is ticking. You have almost twenty minutes before it’s time for your decision. Do you want to ask any of those questions?” He tilted his head toward my paper.
Did I? Or was I ready to tell him to fuck it? I looked down at my writing, scanned the questions—those that last night seemed of monumental importance—and replied, “No.”
“No?”
“No,” I repeated with confidence.
Stewart uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. “Interesting. That’s all it took?”
“What do you mean?”
“It only took an extra fifty thousand dollars for you to walk away and stand up to your stepfather?”
My mind spun. “I haven’t said I’m walking away, although you seem to be pushing me in that direction.”
“You just said no.”
“I said no, I don’t want to ask any of those questions. Instead, I want clarification.”
Stewart exhaled.
It may not have been begging, but it was the closest sign of his desire I’d seen during our morning discussion.
“Clarification on what?” he asked.
I fought the urge to pace, instead busying myself by smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from my jeans. Summoning courage from some unknown source, I began. “I’m eighteen years old. I don’t want to be held prisoner in your home. You have a lot of shit in that contract about my obligation to sex. What are my other obligations? If I marry you, will I have a life? What about my contact with my sister and brothers? What about school? What about work? I want to know what I’m signing up for today. Tell me there will be more to my life than sex.”
He grinned. “Oh… if only my time permitted me to say no, but alas, I too have work and obligations. Therefore, you’ll have plenty of time for other activities. As long as you present yourself in all situations in the decorum I know you’ve been taught to maintain, there’ll be no restrictions on your activities. I have no intention of monitoring you or your communications. School is done; your graduation is this Saturday. Work is unnecessary, and Lisa will help you integrate into the world of the elite. She’ll help you find proper activities. Who knows, you may become friends with some of the uptight bitches who grace the arms and beds of my associates.”
“Are we arranging playdates now?”
His hands slapped the table. “Miss Conway. That bitchiness is not welcome when it’s directed toward me.”
Ignoring his rapidly disintegrating demeanor, I concentrated on his earlier answers. “If I marry you, I won’t be at my graduation?”
“No. We’ll be on our honeymoon. That doesn’t make the graduation any less valid.”
“Honeymoon? Do you have this all planned?”
“Yes and no,” he said. “We’ll have a clandestine destination wedding.”
“I feel there’s more to it than that.”
“Of course, it’ll be leaked to the press. It’ll appear as though we’ve had this secretly planned for a while. You’ll have everything a bride dreams of for her wedding.”
“Unless, of course, I dreamt of a long engagement and maybe love.”
Stewart’s eyes narrowed: his agitation was showing. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that he didn’t appreciate my comebacks. Too damn bad. I wasn’t the one who made him the marriage offer.
“Miss Conway…” he elongated my name, his tenor lower.
Hearing his tone of admonishment, I sat straighter and said, “Listen, Mr. Harrington, I’ve done pretty damn well without parental support for eighteen years. I don’t need it now.”
“Obviously, your parental provision has been stellar.” He leaned forward, his blue eyes simmered with a combination of annoyance and lust. “Let me assure you, there’s nothing remotely close to parenting in my plans for you, or in our contract.”
The way he looked at me made my mind stop arguing while my insides twisted. He was right: everything in the contract was a much more direct discussion of a sexual relationship, made legal and binding through the act of marriage. Nevertheless, the sultry sheen to his icy blue eyes returned my sense of power.
I looked at my phone, 7:26 AM. “If you’ll give me a minute to brush my teeth, I believe we have an appointment with your friend Parker.”
“And at this meeting… which contract will we be signing?”
“My stepfather will live to see another day.”
Stewart’s cheeks rose revealing a pearly white smile. “I’ll phone Parker to alert him to our arrival.”
“But not Randall.”
“No, not Randall.”
THOUGH I WAS uncomfortable about visiting his attorney, Stewart remained true to his word. He stayed with me every step of the way. When we arrived, I did my best to appear to be a woman about to marry one of the wealthiest men in Miami—hell, maybe the country. Yet the entire time I feared that my pounding heart or sweaty palms would give away my secret. I wasn’t worthy of this offer.
I’d been reminded of that all of my life. My presence contaminated and infected those closest to me. It would take some time, but one day Stewart would realize that this was a deal he shouldn’t have made.
As soon as we entered the prestigious leaded-glass doors to the cavernous foyer of Craven and Knowles, a tall, slender woman with a black pencil skirt greeted Stewart warmly. “Mr. Harrington, it’s our pleasure to have you visit today. Mr. Craven will be right with you.” The entire time she spoke, she purposely avoided looking in my direction as her peasant-style blouse teased with the promise of her barely hidden breasts.
“Trish,” Stewart began, focusing her attention my way. “Let me introduce my companion, Miss Conway. In the future, I expect you’ll be as happy to see her as you are me.”
A crimson hue settled on her cheeks as she shamefully lowered her chin, and for the first time, looked in my direction. “Hello, Miss Conway, I apologize if I was rude. It’s nice to meet you. Let me show you to the conference room. Mr. Craven will be with you in a moment.”
Stewart placed his hand in the small of my back as we followed Trish to a glass room. Located near a multitude of desks and doorways, the room had glass on all four sides. When Trish flipped a switch the walls of windows instantly turned opaque and previously invisible blinds created a secluded, private room for our meeting. “Please have a seat.” She gestured toward the table and plush chairs. “While you wait for Mr. Craven, may I get either of you anything to drink? Anything to make the two of you more comfortable.”
Stewart looked my direction with a raised brow. Truthfully, I found her fawning amusing. I did my best not to laugh. “Would you like a cup of coffee, my dear?”
Trish failed to hide her flinch at Stewart’s term of endearment. Nodding, I stifled my amusement. “Yes,” I turned toward Trish. “Thank you, Trish, coffee would be wonderful.”
“And coffee for me, also,” Stewart volunteered. “I’ll take mine black. Miss Conway prefers hers with cream and two sugars.”
Trish immediately repeated the instructions and retreated from the room.
When Stewart reached for my hand, I grinned and asked, “What the hell?”
“As Mrs. Harrington, you’re going to see a lot of that. I thought you might enjoy having a little fun. Besides, ordering something you have no intention of drinking will only help your reputation. I guarantee she’s in the coffee room right now gossiping with anyone who’ll listen. When she finds your full, untouched cup, it will make the company email.”
“Ha, ha, I thought maybe you forgot that I didn’t drink coffee.”
“No, I don’t forget. The world you’re entering is full of piranhas. One day you’ll be able to swim without me, but in the meantime, I’ll be glad to help you grow your teeth.”
I never thought of myself as someone who needed help. The whole concept seemed foreign; however, before I could give it much thought, the door opened and Parker Craven entered. Unlike Trish, who avoided looking in my direction, Parker seemed incapable of looking away; his large, brown eyes almost came out of his head as he took me in. I saw something sinister in his gaze, predatory and frightening. As much as I wanted to turn toward Stewart for the help he’d offered, something told me this would be a recurring theme with the good ol’ boys in Stewart’s circle. The sooner I learned to deal with it, the better. I maintained my composure and thinned my smile.
It was a look I’d seen my mother do throughout my life. It was her I’m-a-bitch-and-pretending-to-play-nice face. As the silence grew, it seemed appropriate. From my peripheral vision, I watched Stewart slowly stand. Parker Craven was a tall, handsome man, with dark hair and olive-colored skin. However, Stewart’s stance, in some unspoken show of alpha-male superiority, dwarfed Parker’s presence. Finally, Parker turned to Stewart, and exclaimed, “Holy hell, are you shitting me?”
Stewart unbuttoned his jacket and retook his seat. With his arm casually around the back of my chair he said, “Parker, this is Victoria Conway, whom I’ve mentioned.”
Parker extended his hand in my direction. “Victoria, my pleasure.”
When his clammy touch enveloped my hand, I immediately regretted not offering a nod instead of contact. As quickly as possible, I retrieved my hand and repressed the desire to wipe it on my jeans. I couldn’t believe I needed to sit with this man and discuss the contents of the contract. No longer did I wonder about the attorney who had the fortitude to compose such a ludicrous agreement. I knew in the pit of my stomach that he was as slimy as some of the clauses.
“I’m not sure how Stewart convinced you to get this far,” Parker began, with a licentious grin, “but I must say, I’m glad that he did.”
Clearing his throat, Stewart brought everyone’s attention to him. “Park, today is about the contract. To avoid the obvious repercussions to Victoria’s stepfather, we need to finalize this sooner, rather than later.”
“Yes, yes of course.” He opened the folder before him. “By that statement, I’m looking for confirmation that the two of you are willing to endeavor upon the marriage contract?” He looked from one of us to the other. “I need verbal confirmation from both of you.”
“Yes, that is correct,” Stewart replied.
Both sets of eyes turned toward me. Fuck! It was truly the precipice of my life. On one side I had life as I’d known it, except without my stepfather and with the aftermath of his untimely death, while on the other hand I had…
A promise?
A contract?
A life sentence?
“Victoria?” Stewart asked, bringing me back to the table of decision.
I squared my shoulders and fought the trembling. “Yes, Mr. Craven, that is correct.” With that, I signed my life away.