I stare at Carly Miller, the girl from my past, and I can’t stop smiling.

She looks even better than I remember. Beautiful, thick blonde hair, slightly curly and shining in my dim office lights. She’s wearing a light blue blouse, top button undone, showing off just a hint of full, perky breasts. Her skirt is black and tight, showing off her hips and slim figure.

God damn. Even better than I guessed.

“I remember you,” she says softly. “How long’s it been, Davis?”

I shrug. “Ten years?”

“Yeah, something like that. I heard you were doing good.”

I grin at her. “That’s one way of putting it. Take a seat, Carly.”

She hesitates, lingers near the door. I can tell she’s wondering if she should come inside, come fully into my web.

But I know she’s going to. Just like I knew she’d show up here when I had her friend Vicki hand her that job posting.

Vicki doesn’t know that came from me, of course. But it all goes back to me, all to get the one girl that got away into my office for the most important meeting of my life.

And of her life.

She finally sits down, smoothing out her skirt, looking nervous. “So, uh, I’m here about a job,” she says.

“I know. I’m glad you came. You look good.”

Her eyes flash. I can’t tell if it’s anger or desire.

“You do too,” she says, almost reluctantly.

I smile a little. I know the effect I have on women, and I can tell she’s enjoying it right now.

“How have you been?”

“Fine,” she says. “I moved back to Philly a couple years ago.”

“You were in LA, right? Following your dreams?”

She looks a little uncomfortable. “Yep. So, uh, what’s this job about?”

I lean back in my chair, looking at her closely.

“It’s unconventional,” I admit.

“I thought it was a developer position?”

“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I don’t know what they told you, but that’s not why you’re here.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Why am I here then?”

I sigh and stretch a little. This part is… delicate.

“Carly, did you know that I’m not American?”

“I didn’t know that,” she admits. “Is that important?”

“Very,” I say. “I’m actually Canadian, here on a work visa. For years, I haven’t had to worry about my status, given how successful I’ve been.”

She frowns a little. “You think you’re going to be deported?”

“It’s a very strong possibility,” I admit. “My old business partner has contacts in the Immigration Department, and he’s been aggressively pursuing that line of attack this last year.”

She bites her lip. “Why would your former business partner try to get you deported?”

“He stole my idea and started a company of his own,” I say simply. “And now he’s trying to get rid of me completely.”

She watches me carefully for a second. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with me.”

“Of course.” I stand up and pace around my desk, coming toward her. I catch her stare, her eyes roaming my body, lingering on my muscular arms and chest. “You see, Carly, I need a particular person with certain skills and a measure of plausibility. And you’re perfect.”

“Okay, just come out with it,” she says. I can sense the impatience and annoyance on her lips.

“I want to marry you.”

She stares at me, eyes wide. For a second, I can see something there, something a lot like desire.

But she quickly laughs, shaking her head. “Are you joking?”

“Not at all.” I sit on the edge of my desk. “You’re an actress, so you can pretend to be my wife and pull it off. You know me from my past, so there’s some plausibility there, since we have a history. And you’re in the tech field, another connection that makes this feel more real.”

She’s shaking her head, making a face. “No way, Davis. No way. You’re crazy.” She slowly stands up, and I stare at her body, at her breasts and hips. I want her to turn around just to give me a glimpse of that tight, firm ass I know she’s hiding under that skirt.

Fucking hell. I know I made the right choice just looking at her.

“This is nuts,” she says. “I have to go. I need a real job, not some… fantasy.”

She turns toward the door. I should speak up, but…

That fucking ass.

As she gets to the door, I snap out of it. “I’ll make you rich,” I say. “I’ll pay off your debts and make you very, very rich.”

She stops, hesitating. “Come on, Davis,” she says, laughing nervously.

“Five million, plus your debt erased.”

That gets her attention. She blinks, frowns slightly, turns back to me. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Five million. We’ll draw up a contract. It’ll be strictly confidential, due to the nature of our arrangement, but it’ll be binding.” I stand and step toward her. I get that flash again, half anger and half desire. “Think about it, Carly. You’ll never have to struggle or worry again. You can pursue anything you want anywhere you want. I’m offering you freedom.”

She stares at me. “You’re offering me marriage.”

“That too.” I grin a little, cock my head. “That wouldn’t be so bad. I could make that interesting, too.”

She crosses her arms, pushing her breasts together. I can’t help but stare, brazen and open about it. I want her to know that I want her body and I’m not afraid to taste it.

“You want me to commit a crime,” she says.

I shrug. “I have lawyers, great lawyers. You’ll never get in trouble, but you also won’t get caught. You’re an actress, remember? We can craft a story, make it real.”

She takes a breath, lets it out. “This is crazy.”

“Six million,” I say, meeting her gaze.

“Eight,” she whispers.

I grin. “Done.”

She shakes her head. I walk toward her, take her hand. She lets me steer her back to her chair and she slowly sinks down into it.

“You’ll be my wife, and you’ll help me stay in the country legally,” I say softly as I kneel down in front of her.

She stares at me like I’m insane. “Right,” she manages. “Your wife.”

I reach into my pocket and take out the little box I had in there just for this moment. Heart pounding, I flip it open.

“Consider this the down payment.” I take the ring and slip it onto her finger. Half a million dollars’ worth of diamonds glitter in the light.

She can’t take her eyes off them.

“It… fits.”

“Of course it does,” I whisper, coming closer to her. I can smell her shampoo, the soap on her skin. I want to rip open her top, feel her breasts, shove open her legs, ravage her pussy. I’m throbbing with need for her body and I can barely hold myself back.

But she turns her head away, biting her lip.

“It’s too much,” she says, breaking the spell.

I stand and go back to my seat behind the desk. “It’s perfect,” I say. “My wife wouldn’t get anything less. Now, we should discuss the details.”

She manages to meet my gaze again. “Details?”

“Right. We need to discuss how we met, how long we’ve been dating, all of that information.” I hesitates a moment. “Plus, we need to establish the rules.”

“Rules?”

I grin. “Right. How often do we kiss? Hold hands? Sleep in the same bed?” I lean toward her, eyes locked on hers. “Fuck?”

She blinks and recoils. “We don’t fuck,” she says, a little too loudly.

I laugh softly. I love her discomfort. “We don’t have to, but I think you’d be making a mistake if you took it off the table completely.”

“No sex,” she says quickly. “No touching unless we’re in public and we have to pretend.”

I sigh. “That’s not very fun.”

“We’re keeping this professional.” She draws herself up, and I’m suddenly impressed. She looks fucking sexy when she’s getting down to business. “This is a business arrangement. It’s just a job for me. I’ll do what I have to do to make it work, but… nothing past that. Okay?”

I sigh. I’m disappointed, but not surprised.

And anyway, it’s not like this is going to stop me.

“Fine,” I say.

“Good.” She clears her throat. “As for the back story, you can come up with it.”

I raise my eyebrow. “I was thinking you were a stripper and couldn’t control yourself when you felt my big, rock hard—”

“Okay, maybe I should have some input.”

I shrug. “If you want. But the part about how I lick your—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. You’re a perv.”

“Not a perv, just imaginative.”

“Whatever. All you can do is stare at my chest and think about sleeping with your wife. I’m not an idiot.”

I grin at her. “I know you aren’t. It’s why I chose you.” I lean toward her. “And I’m not trying to hide what I want to do with you.”

She bites her lip. “Why are you doing this, Davis? I mean… why me?”

“I told you. It makes sense.”

“There are plenty of other women who could fill this role just as easily.”

“But none that knew me when we were younger. You do remember, don’t you?”

She glares at me. “I remember a young cocky asshole that I could barely stand.”

I laugh softly. “And I remember a young, sexy woman that was too stuck-up for her own good.”

She glares at me and all at once, I can see the old Carly.

Headstrong, beautiful, smart. I fucked things up back then, ruined what I could’ve had with her, all because I didn’t understand what she felt for me. And when I finally realized it, there was no going back.

“I remember your tongue in my best friend’s mouth,” she says softly. “And I remember you bragging to me about it for weeks.”

I wince and look away.

It’s true. I hooked up with her best friend at the time. I didn’t know Carly was into me, to be fair. We’d been friends for a while, ever since we both showed up for the first day of boarding school at the George School.

It was instant friendship. And instant attraction. But she always acted like she was too cool for me, too cool for everyone. I was hanging out, kissing girls, having fun, and she was studying and watching films and memorizing monologues.

Things were good, we were close. Up until I hooked up with her friend. And bragged about it.

Our friendship died out pretty fast after that. I’ve always regretted the way I let that fizzle, and I never really understood it, either.

I didn’t get why she gave a shit if I hooked up with her friend.

Now though, now I have a second chance to get what I want.

I just have to make her stop hating me first.

“Yeah, well. We were kids.” I shrug a little. “What can I say, we all did stupid stuff.”

She makes a face and looks away.

I linger in that silence for a second before clearing my throat.

“Okay. I’ll have my lawyer draw up the papers. You go over it, sign it, and then…” I trail off.

She meets my gaze again. “And then we get married.” She looks down at the ring on her finger.

“That’s right. You become my wife and then I make you rich as hell.”

“Rich as hell,” she whispers. “No more debt.”

“Freedom. That’s what I’m offering.”

“Freedom,” she echoes.

I grin at her, but as she looks away, I know what she’s thinking.

My version of freedom looks a lot like a prison.

I know that. I can’t pretend otherwise.

But this is going to be the best prison imaginable, if only she can learn to get over herself and give herself over to me.