Grabbing my wrist, he yanked me across the room. “We’ll discuss the fine print at my desk.”
I slammed on the brakes.
I had a good mind to scream and kick him. I hated the way he manhandled me. How he expected me to obey implicitly. He proved he had no concept of how to treat a woman at all.
Rules.
“We need rules. You need to know the dos and don’ts around me, and I need to know them for you.” My eyes narrowed. “Rule number one. I don’t appreciate being corralled or forced to do something I don’t want to. It never worked for anyone in the past, and it won’t work for you.”
His silvery eyes glinted with interest. “Sounds like we have more in common than I thought.” Giving me a small nod, he let me go and rounded the desk to sit in the black chair behind. “Rule number one for me. Don’t disrespect me. If you have something to say, be eloquent. I don’t respond well to profanity or ridicule.”
Crap, he was right. We did have things in common.
I fumbled for my next rule. “Rule number two. I’m not a belonging you just stole and have the right to treat like dirt. If you ever pull a knife on me again, you won’t be a man anymore. You’ll be a eunuch.” My hand holding my blade reached up and re-secured the clip into place.
His lips twitched. Placing his palms on the desk, he leaned forward. “Rule number two for me. If I ask you to do something, you’ll do it. Think of the next month’s pay as a salary for being my employee. It doesn’t matter that sex is in involved. I want more from you than just the pleasure of sinking between your legs.” His voice roughened, eyes glowing with white hot lust.
My stomach flipped at the mental image of him taking me. Fucking me. Despite my best efforts to remain aloof, a tingle darted to my core, and I had the sudden urge to sit down. Clearing my throat, I sat in the only chair in front of his desk.
Tension curdled as Fox stayed frozen, watching my every move. I crossed my legs, pressing my thighs together against the throbbing desire permeating the room.
Announcing our rules had suddenly become more than just talk about business, it’d become layered with unspoken attraction and frightful uncertainty. I’d never had to fight my body’s reaction before. I’d never come across a man who I wanted to strip to the bone and discover everything he kept hidden.
Not even Clara’s father.
Not that it would be considered a love affair. He’d taken my virginity behind the toilet block in Hyde Park. It’d been messy, awkward, and a little painful. It wasn’t rape, but it wasn’t exactly consensual either. I’d been a stupid, reckless fifteen-year-old who thought she could tease and not pay the consequences.
Fox shattered my reminiscing. “Rule three for you?”
The stress in my body returned, mirroring the anxious strain in the room. Fox never took his eyes off me, effectively pinning me against the chair. I no longer focused on my surroundings. This man had the power to steal my every thought.
“Rule three,” I began, my voice huskier than before, “umm, I expect you to treat me as more than just a sex toy. I need mental stimulation and would appreciate if you spoke to me kinder rather than like a giant gorilla who thinks he’s top authority.”
My mind raced between the threat of sex and the allure of money.
What sort of mother am I?
Fox’s lips flickered into a quick smile before he smoothed his features.
He tilted his head in vague agreement. “Rule three for me, I’ll give you the mental stimulation you need, but in return I expect everything. I ask a question—you give me the truth. I ask you to do something—you do it.”
Snapping his fingers like I’d seen him do on the fighting floor, his voice darkened. “While you’re in my house under my protection, you’ll forget about the outside world. Your friends, your family, your entire life no longer exists. Just me.”
My heart bucked as true fear rushed back and doubt crept in. I’d learned how to sneak and stay hidden from my childhood—I just hoped I could use those skills to disappear at night to see Clara. Fox would never have to know, and I could hug and kiss my daughter while making sure she stayed happy and well.
I nursed my own deception even as I accepted his rules.
“Do I need a medic to run a sexual health test on you? Are you on the pill?”
I should’ve been prepared for that question. Of course, he wouldn’t want to wear condoms for a month. But I hadn’t rehearsed my answer.
Old pain rose as memories tried to cloud me.
Fox sat forward. His eyes narrowed, sensing my reluctance.
I dropped my gaze. My fingers swooped up to fiddle with the matching star necklace Clara and I wore. The familiarity of the silver helped calm me.
I’d been eighteen. A struggling mother with a bratty two-year-old, working all hours of the day to support us. I’d been so wrapped up in my worries, I hadn’t heard the footsteps behind me.
“Give us your money, bitch.”
One moment I stood on two feet, the next I kissed asphalt.
Four pairs of legs surrounded me, all male, all young, and full of something to prove.
Without a word, I fumbled for my bag and gave the thirty dollars and twenty-five cents that I had in cash.
“That’s it? Where’s the rest of it?”
What followed hurt too much to relive. I’d been lucky, I supposed. I wasn’t raped, but there were only so many kicks to the stomach that a young body could sustain until infertility occurred.
I’d spent a week in hospital while my precious toddler had been looked after by an elderly woman who lived above us.
“Tell me. What are you thinking?” Fox growled.
A chill eased through my blood, helping me remain cool and unfeeling. “I’m clear from diseases, and you don’t need to worry about contraception.” My voice hardened. “I’m not going to sleep with you until I know your history, too. As part of my rules, I need to know you’re clean.”
His shoulders tightened and jaw ticked, but he nodded slowly. “I’m clean. You have nothing to fear from me.” Darkness shadowed his eyes for just a moment followed by a flippant hand gesture. “I’m taking sleeping with bastards for cash is a new thing for you?”
My mouth hung open. “There you go again. I thought we’d made progress—that’d I’d judged you too harshly, but nope. You’re still an ass**le.” Swiping a hand through my tangled hair, I snapped, “I’ve already told you I’m not a whore, and I’m not answering anything that’s disrespectful. I promised I wouldn’t disrespect you, so don’t do it to me.”