Page 25 of The Client
“I’ll pay double what he did, per day, for the duration of the six-month term, if you say yes right now,” I say. “Final offer.”
There’s another pause. And then, “She can start tomorrow.”
“Not tomorrow,” I shoot back. “She starts now. I’ll throw in another ten thousand.”
“Done. I’ll make some calls. Pleasure doing business, Mr. McConnell.”
“You made the right choice,” I say before I hang up.
My dad’s eyes flash as I hand the phone back to Izabela. If we weren’t in the office with twenty witnesses around, his hands would probably be around my throat. But he lost, and now it will be my hands around Izabela’s throat.
Her phone chimes with an incoming text. A second later, my father’s phone rings in his pocket.
“We’re done here. Get the fuck out of my office,” I tell him.
Without a word, he puts the phone to his ear as he walks out, slamming the door behind him as he leaves.
Izabela reads the message on her phone, then starts typing a response. I look her up and down appraisingly, trying to keep the triumphant grin off my face. Starting now, I have six months to find out what’s hiding behind those steely blue eyes of hers. Six months to figure out why the look in them unsettles me the way that it does. Not to mention the endless nights I’ll have to play with her body. To break her. To mold her.
To enjoy every last drop of her pleasure, because it means that much more of my own.
Izabela looks up at me, phone still in her hand, and says, “It appears you and I have an arrangement, Mr. McConnell.”
An arrangement that could start immediately, right here in my office, with her body splayed across my desk. Too bad I have a meeting with some Dubaians.
“I have business to attend to. Stay in my office. I’ll be back in an hour.”
10
IZABELA
How easily ownershipof my body has transferred hands.
The last thing I want to do for the next hour is sit here and question all my life choices, though, so I take out my phone and write an email to my sister. It’s not full of lies, per se, but I take care to word my sentences very carefully so it sounds like I’m having the time of my life. I say things like, “I’m meeting so many interesting new people” and “I just booked my biggest job yet.” Eva doesn’t need to know that the people I’m meeting are johns.
I’m so engrossed in what I’m doing that I don’t realize how many minutes have passed until the door to Rhys McConnell’s office swings open and my head snaps up to find him striding back into the room. His meeting must be over. His computer is tucked under his arm and he has a satisfied look on his face. I hurriedly slip my phone into my bag and straighten in the chair, heart slamming in my chest.
“There’s something you need to know,” he says, the look on his face daring me to lean forward. “Something you need to fully understand, because I will be reminding you every day and every night.”
“What would that be, Mr. McConnell?”
“For the next six months, I own you. And I’ll be damned if you forget it.”
“Do you understand what it means to be owned by me, Miss Jasinski?” he asks, setting the laptop down and then turning to face me, arms crossed as he leans back against the desk.
Our gazes lock, and I feel like an antelope being appraised by a lion.
“I…I’m not sure, Mr. McConnell,” I answer honestly.
“I don’t think you do. In fact, I don’t think you have the slightest idea what it means. But you’re about to find out.”
Liquid heat pools in my belly and works its way through my body. This man has no idea what the gravel in his voice and the heat in his eyes is doing to me. Or maybe he does.
Resisting the urge to bolt from the office, I force myself to hold still and wait for him to make a move. It’s not that I don’t want him to touch me. It’s that I do. Badly. So badly.
And that scares the hell out of me.
I can feel my core start to pulse as my mind conjures up visceral memories of what we did last night. The scent of his cologne, the hot glide of his cock, the silkiness of his hair sliding through my fingers, that sound he made right when he came. A shiver goes through me, and I don’t miss the predator’s smile that ghosts across his face as he watches me.
