His Sugar Baby(10)
Her face flamed. She dropped her gaze to the hundred-dollar bill. She held her body stiffly, defensively, and one of her hands curled into a fist. He waited silently, watching the conflicting emotions on her face. When she looked up again, she said abruptly, “I can’t meet you every day.”
“I believe I made clear how much time I require of you each week.” Michael picked up his coffee cup and carried it to his lips. He was careful not to allow the satisfaction he felt at her implied acquiescence to appear in his expression. He had seen the war of emotions in her eyes at dinner last night and again now in her frowning expression. He wanted to do nothing that would strengthen her indecision. Winter was exciting in bed, and he wanted her to stay in his. Already the lust was curling through his belly, his shaft beginning to swell.
Last night he had held her wrists together in his hand, giving her the illusion that he was overpowering her and her ability to make a different choice than the one she ultimately had. In the same way his instincts told him how to close a business deal, he knew that stating his firm expectations about their sexual liaison would help her to salve her conscience. She could delude herself that he was to blame for the course she had decided on. The challenge of eventually bringing her to accept that it had been her decision, and only hers, to become his bedmate only added zest to the situation.
“Then you’ll have to clarify for me the three thousand a month.” Her beautiful hazel eyes were narrowed as she gazed at him. Her lips were tight, and there was a hostile note in her voice.
Michael was unsurprised by her antagonism. It was all part of securing the deal. She’s going to take it. His feeling of satisfaction intensified. The corner of his mouth edged up. “Fair enough. I will direct deposit three thousand dollars into your bank account on the first of each month, dependent upon the ongoing nature of our arrangement. Until then, I will give you a hundred dollars whenever we are together.”
Cathy looked away from his steady regard. His ice-blue eyes were unreadable. If only she just wasn’t so desperate. She struggled with herself, against her need, and she lost. Feeling utterly defeated, she said, “I will e-mail my bank information.”
He nodded. “We can iron out the details of our next meeting at a later time. Are you ever free during work hours?”
“My work schedule can be flexible, yes,” she admitted warily. She was reluctant to cede any more to him than she had already relinquished, but things were moving so quickly that it was difficult to process what she should say.
“Good. Most of our time together will be in the evenings, but on occasion when my schedule allows I might want to meet during the work day. Communicating through e-mail alone is inherently cumbersome. Do you have a cell number?”
“I do.” Cathy thought about the kind of calls that she routinely received from the hospital and from work. “I’d rather not use my cell for this.”
He nodded again. “I understand. I’ll get you another phone. It will be more discreet that way.”
Cathy was floored by his astounding nonchalance. His decision to provide her with a cell phone had been instant. There had been no hesitation at all, no mention of cost or inconvenience. He simply waved aside the complication. Just who is this man?
In the distance she heard the chime of a bell. Michael pushed back his chair and rose from the table, throwing down his napkin. “That will be the taxi. No, stay, finish what you have there. I’ll be back in a moment.” He strode away and disappeared toward the front of the house.
Cathy swiftly finished eating a kolache and swiped her mouth and hands with her napkin. Hesitant, she barely touched her fingertips to the hundred dollar bill. With a shake of her head, she picked it up and put it into her purse. She had said everything except the actual words to Michael. But it was obvious, both to her and to him, that she had agreed to enter into the arrangement that he had offered her.
Michael returned. His pale gaze skimmed over her. “You’re ready? Good. I’ve told the driver to take you wherever you want to go. I’ve already paid him so you won’t be put to any expense.”
Coolly, as though he had every right to do so, he pulled her to her feet and gathered her into his arms. Disregarding her stiffness, he tilted up her chin and kissed her very thoroughly.
Cathy felt one of his large hands glide over her hip, pulling her body into close proximity to him. She felt the unmistakable bulge pressing into her belly. Her heart, already beating hard, speeded up. But he did nothing else except to kiss her deeply, openmouthed. Her senses began to reel at the heat of his mouth, the intimate stroke of his tongue.
When Michael was done branding her with his taste and the feel of him, he walked her to the door and then outside to see her into the cab. He did not close the cab door immediately. She looked up at him in question. He held her eyes, saying very softly, “I’ll be in touch.” He deliberately slid his gaze to the fullness of her bosom. Cathy could not stop the blush that climbed into her cheeks, and he gave a satisfied smile. He straightened and shut the door. He stepped back on the curb.
“Miss, where to?” At the cab driver’s query, Cathy gave him the name of the restaurant where she had met Michael for dinner. It was where she had left her car the night before. As the cab pulled away, Cathy looked over her shoulder through the back window. Michael had not remained at the curb to watch her drive off. She resolutely turned back around. She had not really expected him to do so, had she?