Ilaria

Money lies all the time, we just choose to believe it.

 

No. Whoever the cobalt-blue-eyed devil standing before me was, he most definitely never had to pay for sex in his life. He had to be several inches over six feet tall, almost uncomfortably so, with broad shoulders, narrow hips, and legs that went on forever. His height made him slender, but I could see the bulge of his arms as he pulled me closer to him, and I burned with the control his fingers exerted on my neck. Each subtle tightening of those digits made my breath catch.

What is wrong with me?

His sensual mouth was curved into a taunting smile, and the music around us was loud enough his words thrummed through me more than I heard them. In my line of work, I’d learn how to recognize money on my patrons and who’d most likely give the best tip. This man’s suit was bespoke, and I wondered what made him look at me.

“I asked you a question.”

He punctuated his deep words with a slight shake of my neck, and I clenched my teeth against the desire pooling between my legs.

This isn’t right. I shouldn’t feel any of this.

All that should have been coursing through my veins was sadness and determination to do what my mother had bidden me. But the chaotic torrent of emotions that had buffeted me before quieted under this man’s gaze. Why?

I licked my lips, and his gaze followed the movement. “No, sir.”

His nostrils flared. “Say that again.”

“What?”

“Sir,” he commanded.

“Sir.”

“I like that. Again.”

He pulled me closer, crushing my breasts against his hard chest, and I gasped out his demand once more. My brain was muddled, and a dull throb pulsed where my heart should have been.

“Good girl. Now, you have need of a job and I know of one. We can’t speak here. Come.”

And just like that, I could breathe. He left me, turning and eating up the distance with his long legs without a backward glance. He expected I’d follow him, and I was moving before I realized and forced my legs to stop. Screw him. He could be taking me somewhere to kidnap me, or hurt me, or … anything. I knew better than that, had been taught better. Run. Hide. Survive. All my life I’d been afraid, looking over my shoulder and sniffing the air for an impending threat. My mother never told me what the threat was, but it was palpable in the air. We stayed out of good areas with roving cops and prying eyes, paid cash for everything, and lived where real names weren’t important. Even now, I didn’t know how I’d get my mother out of the morgue and buried, and that realization gave me the strength to walk the other way. I wasn’t a sheep, and I wouldn’t follow blindly behind a wolf.

The air outside was crisp and cool, and the music dimmed to a dull roar. I’d have to try another bar—again. Paul had been bitching ever since I turned him down for sex. I didn’t do sex or relationships. I always wanted more, and I knew I could never have it. I sold my sex in visual only, raking in tips threaded with desire, and satisfied myself on lonely nights with furtive fingers between my legs. I couldn’t fathom giving myself to any man in passing, so I never did. I wasn’t about to start now.

A sleek, black car was parked at the curb, and I recognized the expensive luxury model. A woman with watchful eyes got out of the driver side and went to the passenger side before opening the door. Her gaze met mine as she crossed a tanned hand over her chest and bowed slightly.

“Ms. Paolo.”

Sirens and explosions ricocheted in my head. She knew my name. My real name. “I think you have me confused with—”

“This is disappointing. I could have sworn you were stronger than this.”

I spun on my heels to find the devil standing behind me. He shook his head, his slight frown and furrowed brow bothering me in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

“Who are you?”

“A man who can give you more than this.”

I snorted. “You don’t know anything about me.” I prayed. I hoped.

“I know plenty, Rachel.”

There is was again, that inflection on my fake name, the knowing smile. I looked back and forth between him and the still slightly bowed woman next to the car.

“What do you want?” I forced myself to say aloud.

“You. But I don’t think you’re ready yet, so I’ll offer a chance to make yourself ready. A way to make sure your mother is buried properly. That you never have to run again, for as long as you live.”

“How do you—”

“I do not answer to you.” He glared at me, his mouth a firm line, and I snapped my mouth shut. He watched me for a moment before he sighed and the expression disappeared. “Yes or no?”

“What do I have to do?”

“Nothing you don’t want, but I can’t speak of the details now. Let’s go for a drive.”

He walked to the car, passing me by, and once again I got the impression he expected me to follow, and the imprint of his disappointed look flashed in my mind. For some reason, it made me move. I slid onto the butter-soft leather seats across from him, and the door closed us within, darkness wrapping us tightly.

“The job is companionship, twenty thousand a month, plus living expenses and all you may need during your agreement covered by your partner. You will want for nothing and have everything provided or you. If, after a year, you are unsatisfied, you can walk away, all the money and items are yours. Or you can keep going as agreed. You can take care of your mother’s burial, maybe go to college, start a life, and never have to be afraid of simply being Ilaria Paolo.”

“This sounds too good to be true. Companionship? That sounds like a high-class escort.”

“Again, Ilaria, do I look like a man who has to pay for sex?”

“No, sir. But … companionship?”

“Everyone gets lonely. And knowing you’re getting paid for it keeps you from guessing if you are in it for my money. You’ll have plenty of your own, and I’ll be obligated to give you more. It’s an easy agreement.”

“And I’m just to do this … with you?”

“Well, more pointedly, with Infidelity, and they will connect you to me.”

“Why do we need the middle man?”

He only smiled, but there was a rough edge to it that made me swallow. “You will go to this address tomorrow morning, and then we shall meet again.”

“Can I ask one thing?”

“Yes, since you asked so nicely.”

“How do you know I’ll end up with you?”

“Because I get what I want and, because you belong to me, so will you.”