A Single Glance (Irresistible Attraction #1)(20)

She’s not wrong, but I won’t give her that satisfaction.

“I’ve never been called charming, Bethany,” I tell her, playing with the way I say her name. Softening it, letting it fall from my lips gently, as if simply whispering it allows it to hang in the air, hinting at all the things we’re leaving unspoken.

It takes her a moment to say anything at all. The force in her words is absent, and she doesn’t look me in the eyes.

“Apology accepted, please leave.”

“We have unfinished business.” My response is immediate.

I watch as she swallows, hating me but knowing I push more boundaries than just anger.

“I stand by what I said, you owe a debt.” Her gaze snaps to mine and her exhale is forceful. I continue before she can object. “I wrote up a contract I think you’ll find agreeable.”

She’s silent as I pull out the folded paper from my back pocket, along with the pen I lifted from her purse.

Her gaze narrows as she recognizes it. “You’ll need to sit down for this. Standing in the hallway isn’t how I conduct business.”

Silence.

Ever defiant.

I fucking love it. I relish standing here while she makes me wait, as if she could actually control what happens next. Our story is already written, and she knows it. She’ll give in. She knows that too.

Without saying a word, she stalks to her living room, her arms crossed over her chest until she sits.

Although I haven’t been in the living room, I’ve already seen it. And the kitchen and dining room. I’m prepared for what’s in every drawer. Seth took care of that for me.

There’s a heavily poured glass of wine on the table, and she pours it back into the bottle rather than downing it like I thought she was going to do when she grabbed it.

“You can sit wherever you want, intruder.”

“Intruder?” I question her and the only acknowledgement I get is a firm, singular nod in time with the glass being placed gently on the coffee table.

“All right then, attempted murderer,” I quip back and take a seat on the armchair beside the sofa.

Her mouth drops open and then slams shut, her jaw tense as she stares back at me as if I’ve said something offensive. “Just calling a spade a spade,” I say and hold her gaze as I raise my hands, palms toward her in defense.

She hesitates to respond and I know I see remorse in her eyes. I know what it looks like; I see it every fucking day.

“I would have done the same, just so you know,” I confide in her and her tense shoulders ease a bit. Only a fraction though. “I don’t blame you.”

She’s still silent for a moment, assessing me and everything she’s dealing with.

I’ll be gentle with her, I’ll give her what she needs. I can be that man for her. And she can be what I need.

“What do you want?” she asks after a moment. “What contract?”

Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and lace my fingers together. “You have questions, needs, and so do I. You owe me a debt, whether you like it or not, and I can give you something you never knew you wanted.”

Her thighs tighten as she swallows thickly, tensing her neck. She pulls the blanket closer to her and asks, “Did you know my sister?”

“Not personally, but I know things she was doing. She got into some trouble.”

The reaction is immediate, her expression falling and for the first time I came in here, the pain shows, but she’s quick to hide it.

“I’ll answer your questions,” she says softly, gaining control of her composure before looking at me and finishing her negotiation. “And you’ll answer mine?”

A sorrowful smile plays at my lips. “That’s not how this works.” Her bottom lip wavers and her fingers dig into the comforter on her lap. “I want more.”

The tension thickens between us with every passing second of silence.

The paper crinkles in my hand as I unfold it and read it to her.

“For the payment of three hundred thousand dollars, not a penny will be paid in currency. The party agrees that sessions will take place, in which Bethany Fawn allows Jase Cross to question her as he sees fit, questions she will answer honestly to the full extent of her knowledge, and in a manner that will entail no physical harm whatsoever to Miss Fawn. The ability for Bethany to stop all proceedings whenever she wishes, verbally, will halt the session, allowing Miss Fawn to leave as she wishes.”

I watch her expression, noting how she squirms uncomfortably and pushes her hands into her lap and she then reads the last line.

“Every ten minutes is equivalent to one hundred dollars.”

“That’s thirty thousand minutes total, that’s five hundred hours,” Bethany says aloud with no indication in her tone as to what she makes of that sum.

“Correct.”

“I couldn’t possibly… that’s a full-time job for a quarter of the year. I won’t let this interfere with my job.”

“It won’t. We can add in a line if you’d like, stating that it will come second to your occupational needs.”

“I would be in debt to you for a year at least.”

“Yes,” I say, and there’s no negotiation in my tone.

“What about my questions?”

“They’re yours to ask, but not a part of this contract.”