Page 8 of Wanted

"Do you agree to these rules?" he asked.

"Never disobey?" I repeated the last line, a flutter of nerves churning my stomach. Obedience has never been my strong suit.

"That is the requirement for working here," he said in a voice that brooked no discussion.

I pushed the paper away and shook my head. "Unquestioning obedience is unreasonable," I objected. "I'm an employee not a slave."

"So, you're turning down the job?" Was that an incredulous note in his voice?

This all smelled of something dangerous. Damnit, I should have run the instant I saw his candlelit room.

My phone chose that moment to buzz again and the Count's eyes fell on my purse. "You will also relinquish your cell phone while you are on my property,” he said. “And any other recording or communication devices."

What the hell? "Why?"

"I value my privacy," he replied without elaboration.

I pulled my purse onto my shoulder. "I don't think this is going to work out, after all," I said. I was only half bluffing. The consequences of walking out on this were too high. I knew this. I had to take the job, no matter what he demanded of me, butshit, this was seriously messed up.

"Very well, you're free to go," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Was he bluffing? Who the hell knew? It wasn’t like he needed me. Surely, there were a shit-ton more qualified candidates than me, anyway.

But then again… all the strange rules.

I stood, deciding he was bluffing after all. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Count. And good luck on your hunt for a housekeeper. It's hard to find good help in this town. Most people work on weed farms or don't want to work at all."

I turned to leave, measuring my steps to the door, counting every second until he gave in.

The door loomed closer. And closer. I was an inch away from the doorknob.

Hell, that’s what I got for playing chicken with an enigma.

I was going to lose.

The Count cleared his throat. "Would you like to know what your salary would have been? Before you leave?"

Bastard.

I stopped and turned, raising an eyebrow. "Sure. How much do you pay your slaves?"

He stood and walked to a large painting on the wall, an oil from the looks of it that depicted a dragon protecting a beautiful woman wearing a sword. He slid the painting aside to reveal a safe, and with fast fingers, deftly plugged in the security code.

The door swung open on well-oiled hinges and I tensed, craning to see the contents without looking too obvious. I caught a good glimpse of piles of cash before he closed the safe and returned to his desk with a small black chest accented with rubies and emeralds. Were they real? That would be extra! Slowly, he opened the lid, revealing the box stuffed with cash, all one-hundred dollar bills.

"You must be a favorite with the IRS, paying in cash like that," I said, but I took a reluctant step forward. That was more money than I'd ever had in my life.

He took a small stack of cash from the box and set it on the table. "Each month you will receive $7,000, cash, for your work," he said, placing another smaller stack next to the first. "And if you do your job exceptionally well, you will also receive a $3,000 bonus."

Ten thousand dollars a month to clean his house? That was a fortune.

"What's the catch? Why are you paying so much for a housekeeper?” Then, I folded my arms and looked him directly in the eye. “Are you expecting sex?" I asked bluntly. "In my experience, men always want something for their money."

I'd like to say that if he had wanted sex, I'd be out. That I had a line. But when it came to this, I couldn't afford to have a line. Not if I wanted to save my brother.

The Count’s dark eyes searched my face. "Firstly, I am not like any man you've ever met, Miss Blackwood, I can assure you of that. And secondly, I do, in fact, want something for my money. I want a clean house, and someone who can serve and prepare drinks when I have guests. The rest of the money is for your discretion. What happens here stays here."

"Illegal shit?" I raised a suspicious brow. "I can't be involved in illegal shit."

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