Page 8 of Moonlit Thorns

It’s not lost on me that his words ring true, but I don’t care. He’s the one who holds the loan. He can put a stop to this if he wants.

“I can’t lose the estate. It’s all I have left of my father. My brother is in charge of the farm and the distillery now. He can get things running more profitably, and we can work out a payment plan. Please.” I put my hands in front of me in a prayer pose. “I’ll do anything.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and is silent. I don’t dare take a breath.

“Okay then… I’ll make you a bargain.”

My heart speeds up. “Anything.”

Whatever interest rate he wants us to pay back the loan is going to be ridiculous, but it doesn’t matter. It’s worth it if we can keep the estate.

Without warning, his hand wraps around my wrists where they’re still raised in front of me, and he wrenches them above my head, using the leverage to walk me back a couple of steps until my back is pressed against the door. My breath heaves in my lungs, and my eyes widen as fear seizes control of my limbs, leaving me frozen in place.

His gaze dips down between us before his blue eyes meet mine again. “You come to work for me for a year, and I’ll consider the debt paid. You can keep your precious estate.”

I blink at him in confusion. He wants me to work for him? “Wh… what would I be doing?”

He takes a long, leisurely look down at my body before our eyes meet again. “Whatever I want.”

Something about the way he says that sounds inherently sexual, but there’s no way that can be what he means. He’ll probably have me filing paperwork for eight hours a day or fetching him coffee.

Gathering my courage, I raise my chin, even though it’s more than obvious that he has the advantage of me pressed up against the door. “Do you always work from your home office?” Will I have to relocate to work from Voss Enterprises’ head office?

“I don’t. But you will work from here. In fact, you’ll live here.” He sounds as if he’s coming up with these rules as we stand here chest to chest, so close I can smell the mint on his breath.

“Here? At Midnight Manor?”

He arches a dark eyebrow. “Afraid all those urban legends are true?”

I remember all the stories I’ve heard over the years. How the manor is haunted, cursed even. How more than one person has died suspiciously on these grounds—my father included. How no one knows much about the Voss brothers. How one Saturday night a month, expensive vehicles with blacked-out windows make their way through town and up the hill to Midnight Manor.

How can I possibly live here for a year?

But how can I not?

Thoughts of my family and memories at Oak Haven Estate take over all the fearful questions about Midnight Manor. To work here, I’ll have to give up my internship in Nashville. But I can start over trying to get a foothold in publishing once the year is up, and I know for certain that Oak Haven Estate will remain in the possession of my family.

“I want it in writing that we’re free and clear if I come to work for you for a year.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Not even a little.”

He smirks and releases my hands but stays only inches away from me. “You’re not as naïve as I thought.”

“I’m under no illusion that you’re going to make anything easy for me.”

“Smart girl. You can bet I’ll make it very hard and unpleasant.”

My neck cranes to stare up at him. The predatory gleam in his eyes mixed with the sexual innuendo has my nipples pebbling in my dress. What kind of reaction is that for me to have?

“Good.” I nod, and he backs up a few steps, allowing me to finally breathe normally. “When do I start?”

“Be here at eight tomorrow morning.” He turns and walks back to his desk, his tone dismissive.

“Your lawyers or whoever can get something together that fast? I’m not starting until I have a contract.”

He doesn’t bother to even glance in my direction as he sits at his desk, picking up the papers he was reading before I arrived. “I pay people generously to make sure I get whatever I want, whenever I want it, Miss Boudreaux. Marcel will see you out now.”

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