Page 9 of Wanted

"Your record would beg to differ," he countered softly, "but no, nothing illegal. Just private."

"You looked into my record?" I asked, feeling both embarrassed and angry. Both were a combination of emotions I’d become well-acquainted with over the course of my life.

His face was an unreadable mask. "Of course I did. How would I consider you for a live-in position if I hadn't done my due diligence?"

I cocked my hip, studying the devilishly handsome man before me. "Then you know I'm not squeaky clean. Why risk it?"

He stood and walked around his desk to sit on the edge and face me. We were so close that our knees brushed and my pulse leapt at the contact.

Focus, Kass. Focus, damnit.

"I am not the one taking the risks here. I know what I’m getting," the Count informed me coolly. "Do you?"

I frowned and forced my mind back on track. Yes, this could be a good gig for me, providing it was legit. With this kind of cash, I could take care of Jeremy long-term.

But in my experience, if it was too good to be true, you're probably going to get screwed.

But the money… I could put up with a lot if it meant giving my brother a better life.

And I was going to blow it all, as usual, by walking away.

God damnit.

Still.

Shit.

A smile teased the corner of his mouth. "Should I assume you're reconsidering the offer?"

I licked my lips, my gaze riveted to the stacks of money. "So, I could earn up to $10,000 a month? Just for cleaning this place?"

"Yes. And fulfilling other responsibilities, as needed, all within reasonable standards," he said. "But you must agree to follow the rules. At the first hint of breaking them, you're out. No excuses, no exceptions."

"I agree," I said, trying not to choke on the lie as I took my seat before him once again.

"Then sign." He handed me a pen.

It was a fountain pen and it looked ancient. When I pressed the sharpened tip on the paper to write, nothing came out. Frustrated, I shook it and said, "It’s not working."

"You must sign in your own blood," he clarified, like this was a totally normal and obvious thing to do when agreeing on employment. Then, he took the pen from me and pricked my finger with the tip before I could move.

"Ouch!" I gasped, pulling my hand away from his. "What the hell?"

Unruffled, he merely handed the pen back. "Now, sign."

I hesitated. Was I insane? Yeah, probably. Did I have a choice in all this? No, not really. Knowing I was going to regret it, I took the pen and once again pushed down on the paper. This time, it worked, and when I signed, it was in red blood that darkened as it dried.

A wave of nausea rolled over me and I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. I couldn’t vomit here. Not now. Not under the probing gaze of the ridiculously sexy man before me.

"Welcome to your new home," the Count said as my stomach churned. "Leonard will get you settled in your quarters tonight and give you a tour, then tomorrow evening you will begin work."

I nodded, rose to my feet and turned back toward the door.

“Your phone?”

Damnit. I’d hoped he'd forget. I sighed. "I need to text someone first. I can't just disappear without contact," I said, turning around. I was standing firm on this point, whatever he said. I wouldn't put Jeremy through that. We'd find another way.

But if there were another way, I'd already have found it.

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