Page 68 of The Christmas Wife

"So, do it." She raises her shoulders.

"What?"

"You want him; take him. He won’t say no. Shag him; live out your wildest dreams with the dirty doctor."

"And then?"

"Then go back to your life."

"My indebted-to-hell life," I complain.

"That does suck..." she taps a finger to her forehead, "unless."

"Uh-oh!"Do I want to hear this?

"You, change the terms of the deal."

"You think I could?"

"Sure. Revise it to include moneyandsex."

"Ah...But..."

"What?"

"Doesn’t that make me a slut…in his eyes?"

"Aren’t you already one?"

"N…no." I mean… "Maybe."

"Is it him or yourself you’re worried about?"

"I don’t understand."

"You want to keep your conscience clean—keep your skirts clean, so to speak. Do what he wants, on his terms, take the money, and run."

"Yeah."

"Think you can keep it that simple?"

"I…" I hang my head, "I’m not sure."

"So, call off the deal. Forget about the money. Go for the man."

"But… but, I need the cash."

"Then do as he says."

"I don’t want to." I pout.

She throws up her hands, "Gah, you’re making my head hurt."

"Tell me about it." I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose.

"So..." she scans my features, "What are you going to do?"

"I don’t know."

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