Page 132 of Bitter Secrets

She stared up at him, willing him to grant her request. She needed a moment to regroup and be herself. She couldn’t do that around him.

“You don’t have to come back for me. I’ll meet you wherever. You won’t even notice I’m missing.”

She sensed his answer in the stark silence. As her insides withered, she bowed her head to hide her face. Did she really think she could change his mind? She was a possession. Her wants didn’t come into this. He just wanted her to do what she was told and not interfere with his schedule. Crushing disappointment made her eyes fill with tears. She stepped back, but forgot that he still had hold of her.

“I need to grab my things,” she whispered.

“Look at me.”

She kept her face averted. He may call the shots, but she didn’t have to obey them all. “Isn’t the jet waiting?”

He gripped her face and forcibly turned it, so she was looking at him. She glared at him as a tear slid down her cheek.

His eyes followed the tear before he growled, “What will you give me if I let you stay?”

Her mouth parted. “Y-you’ll let…?”

“What will you give me?” he snapped.

“I…” She shook her head. “I have nothing else to give you.”

The hand on her face drifted to her throat and gripped. “You have much to give me.”

When he kissed her, she didn’t fight him. She poured her frustration and need into the kiss, to make him understand. She heard a thud as his bag hit the ground, a second before he picked her up. She wrapped her legs around him and grunted as her back hit the wall. He pressed against her, hard and hot and hungry.

The knock on the door made her jolt. He shot a killing look down the short hall before he focused on her.

“What are you willing to sacrifice if I allow you to stay?” he demanded harshly.

“I…” She swallowed. “I’ll sleep with you.”

“You’ll fuck me regardless,” he said with such confidence that her legs fell away.

“Let me go.”

“You can’t let emotion interfere when you negotiate,” he chided.

His words were an echo of her father’s. She willed away her clamoring needs and met his glittering eyes. He may be aroused, but he was still thinking clearly. Too clearly. Envy over his self-control helped her focus.

“What do you want?” she asked.

His thumb brushed over her racing pulse.

“I let you stay, you give me another month.”

“Amonth? You can’t be serious!”

“How many times do I have to remind you, I don’t have a sense of humor?”

“A couple of days in Lisbon for another month of you controlling my life? You’re insane!”

“I guess staying here isn’t that important to you.”

She tried to think past the haze. Negotiate. She raised her chin. “Whatever days I spend here, I’ll make up later.”

His thumb paused for a beat before resuming its stroking. She could see he was considering it. Did he feel her heartbeat pick up as hope took hold?

“For every day I give you, you give me a week,” he murmured.

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