Page 62 of Peasants and Kings
“I don’t want to do battle with you, Eden. It’s very simple. I want to spend six months with you. I’m offering you a million dollars for that time.”
“A million?” I asked with a gasp.
I hated myself in that moment. I hated him too. For reminding me of what I had become.
“There will be clothes and jewelry. Anything I give you as a gift, you can take with you when the contract ends.”
“Stop,” I said. “Please stop.”
He frowned. “What did I say wrong?”
“I just need a second to process—”
“No, you don’t. It’s simple.”
I glared at him. “It’s simple foryou, maybe. You’re not the courtesan.” As soon as I said the words, I immediately wanted to take them back. Admitting to Hadrian that I had trouble reconciling why I was meeting with him, why I’d spent the night with him in the first place, showed weakness.
“During your time in Shetland with me,” he said, his brogue thick, “you won’t be a Rex girl.”
“What will I be?”
“Mine.”
I shoved back from the table. “I need some air.”
He rose when I did, but he made no pursuit to follow me.
I rushed through the restaurant with my head bowed so I didn’t have to see anyone. I was sure people knew. Could they read it in the way I held myself? Did they know I was questioning my own worth?
Any other girl in my situation would’ve jumped at the money Hadrian offered, so how was it that a million-dollar exclusive contract made me feel cheap?
Once I was on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, I gulped in a breath of air and willed my heartbeat to slow down.
The sun had set, and I was shrouded in shadows except for the city lights. Here, away from Hadrian, I could admit it.
It wasn’t about the money.
He could’ve asked me to go for nothing and I would’ve jumped at the chance. He made me feel alive and bold, made me feel like I wasn’t a desperate orphan in need of a new identity to escape a dangerous family.
He made me feel like I wasn’t alone.
His presence—his body—commanded my attention and refused to let it go.
The door to the restaurant opened and then Hadrian was standing next to me.
“You didn’t leave,” he said.
“I told you I needed air.” I looked at him as we stood next to each other on the street, taxis whipping by us in the night. “You expected me to run.”
“Aye.”
In a daring gesture, he turned toward me and his hand reached out to caress my face, his thumb stroking the apple of my cheek.
“What is it you’re afraid of?” he asked.
I stood in silence.
“Come on, what is it?”
