Page 5 of Twisted

I smile gratefully. “I’m sure it’s fine, honey. Hopefully I won’t have to take advantage of his generosity for long.”

We head inside and I note the plush carpeting and the private elevator to the penthouse. Of course, he lives there—asshole!

I almost roll my eyes as we head inside the impressive elevator and head to the top floor. When the doors open, I notice a kind looking woman in a smart uniform waiting for me and she smiles warmly.

“Miss. Rogers. It’s lovely to meet you.”

I return the smile and say, “It’s Katherine. What’s your name?”

“Mrs. Baxter, Katherine.”

I grin and flash Baxter a knowing look.

“Husband and wife team, hey?”

He laughs. “Yes, it makes sense when you think of it.”

Mrs. Baxter smiles and I look at the couple with interest.

“So, what are your names and don’t say Baxter?”

She smiles. “I’m Susan and my husband’s called Jeremy.”

Holding out my hand, I smile. “Pleased to meet you. Please call me Katherine, there’s no need for formality around me.”

Susan smiles sweetly.

“Welcome, Katherine. This will be your home for the duration of your stay, so please treat it as such. I’ll show you to your room and you can settle yourself in while I fix you some lunch. You must be hungry.”

Nodding, I follow her, my eyes wide as I take in the amazing place I can call home - for a while at least.

She leads me to a light filled bedroom that takes my breath away. The view from the floor to ceiling windows is breath-taking. I look at her with excitement.

“Wow! You can see the whole city from here.”

She laughs. “Impressive isn’t it?”

She unlocks the windows and pulls them to the side, and I see a balcony running the width of the apartment. I walk outside and gasp as the air hits me. Wow, this is invigorating. All around me is luxury. The balcony is equipped with comfortable seats and looks out over the view. I head over to the rail and look in wonder at how high we are.

Susan smiles. “I’ll leave you to enjoy some private time. When you’re ready, come and find me.”

She heads off inside and I take a moment to savor the view. I feel on top of the world. As jobs go, this is turning out to be a good one.

After a while, I head inside and look around the room I can call home for as long as I’m here. We always had everything we wanted as Reapers and I’m no stranger to luxury, but this is something else. Whoever designed this room knew the way to a girl’s heart. Everything I could ever want is laid out before me and I almost giggle like a schoolgirl as I race around looking in every cupboard and drawer.

Then I find the walk-in closet and stare in wonder. Rows upon rows of gorgeous gowns and beautiful jackets fill the space. On opening the drawers, I find everything folded neatly and begging to be touched and adored. Satin nestles with cashmere and wool against the finest silk. Leather shoes sit side by side bejeweled heels and are represented by every color of the rainbow.

Slim drawers slide out to explore glittering necklaces and bracelets, and I think there’s a whole cupboard filled with various purses, all of them by expensive designers. Taking a deep breath, I take it all in and almost feel like locking myself in here forever.

I wander into the bathroom that is made up of marble and luxury fittings. Every type of lotion, oil and ointment jostle for position among luxurious towels and sweet-smelling perfumes.

Shaking my head, I fall into the trap of the rich. This is a heady combination and every resolve, principle and belief I ever had deserts me in a second when faced with this temptation.

Now I know that Samuel Carrington is the devil. He reels you in with a flash of desire from those sparkling blue eyes. His impish grin annihilates your reserves and his apartment chains you to the man forever. He’s good, I’ll give him that, however, he’s not the reason I’m here. There are five more of him begging for my attention, and I’m impatient to get this thing started.

As I turn to leave in search of Susan, the outfit hanging on the hook by the mirror captures my attention.

I smile. “Here it is. My weapon of ‘Miss’ destruction. My fishing line designed to dress the bait to reel the biggest fish in. I gasp at the silver dress sparkling in the spotlights. I almost moan at the silky feel of the fabric and my body screams to feel the caress of its silken touch. There’s also some silk underwear hanging behind it that begs to be ripped off forcibly by anyone who sees it. It is designed to attract, titillate and drive desire.

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