Page 38 of A Kiss at Midnight

“I have a brother... a ten-year-old brother.”

He pauses as if taken aback by my words. Whatever he expected, it certainly wasn’t this. I hold my breath as I wait for him to comment.

“He must be proud of his big sister,” he says, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“If he ever found out, I’d... I can’t imagine what I’d do. But I had no other choice. I have to do what I’m doing. There isn’t another option, another way. I fought this battle for months since our mother died... and the attorney told me I have to have a stable home with a man in it to have a real shot at getting him. It’s an obnoxiously outdated notion. He’s my brother, and he belongs with me. So I need you to go to court with me, and say we’re in a healthy, stable relationship. I’ll get my brother, then we can go our separate ways.” I trail off when I see his body language growing increasingly tense. He isn’t my friend. He doesn’t want to hear my story. This is more than obvious. I’m a fool to think I can trust him.

He surprises me, though, when he speaks again. “No other option?”

Maybe hedoescare, if only the slightest. After all, he isn’t a man who lacks all emotion. And it’s clear how much he cares about his own brothers, so why can’t he understand my love for Justin?

“He’s in foster care, and I need money, a stable home, and apparently a man so the judge will let me keep him.”

“What proof do you have?”

“About what?” I ask, utterly confused.

“That this story is true.”

“Proof?” What is this man talking about?

“Do you have court papers?”

“No,” I say slowly. I haven’t kept any of the court papers. I lost a lot of stuff when I was forced to leave my mother’s home, and then when I moved to this apartment building they must’ve been thrown out. The papers aren’t what matters. I know exactly what the judge wants from me.

“So, you have this story about a brother, and you need a husband?” he says, a mocking smile on his lips.

“I didn’t say I need ahusband. I said I need someone standing at my side in court, acting as my partner,” I clarify.

“I’ve heard these sorts of sob stories before, Jewel. This sounds like every story a million women have come up with to snag my brothers and me to get what they want.”

“But it’s not a—”

He shakes his head. “I’m an incredibly wealthy man. You want a piece of it. I’m not even blaming you for it. My mother was the same. The thing is, though, I’m not affected by lies, and I don’t hand out cash so you or anyone else can get a fix, or whatever it is that’s driving a person.”

“Why in the world did you ask what this is about if you aren’t going to believe me?” I say, fighting the urge to cry.

“I guess I’m a fool because I was almost taken in by the innocence in your eyes. You’re incredibly good at appearing as the girl next door — like a lost puppy who needs to be taken care of. I guarantee that I can’t be fooled,” he says.

“I’m so glad you have me figured out, Mr. Astor,” I tell him, my body stiff. I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate this, doesn’t like being mocked.

He quickly flips me onto my back and covers my body, staring down at my face, refusing to release my eyes as he makes it abundantly clear which of us is in charge.

“Let’s agree not to play games anymore,” he growls. I feel his desire. He might think I’m a liar and out for what I can get, but he still desires me.

“Don’t worry. I won’t even think of telling you anything again.” How I hate my traitorous body for responding to him.

“I’m not worried, Jewel,” he assures me. “Nothing you can do or say will make me feel emotions I don’t want to feel.”

Then before I can reply, he pushes forward, sinking inside me and making me gasp in outrage as I glare at him while my body responds.

“I own you, Jewel,” he says, his eyes shining in passion. Who really owns who, I wonder.

“For a short time,” I say, unable to hold back the words that fuel his frustration.

He leans forward and shuts my words up the best way he knows how. Although I can’t help but kiss him back, I hate him and myself just a little more over the next hour. When we’re finished, I’m well aware I’ve been used, but that’s what I offered. He stands up and dresses, making me feel even cheaper.

“By the way, you have a dress fitting in an hour. We’ll attend a function on Friday, and you need proper attire.”

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