Page 8 of Purchase Power
Which was only further proven when he said, “You certainly are not like the other women who sign up for these things.”
“Is that… so?” Lucy couldn’t decide if she should stand with her hands on her hips or her fists curled at her sides. What was the best protocol for seducing a stranger who had paid for you to be his new mistress?What if he doesn’t want sex at all? Maybe he’s all BDSM, no sex.Lucy contemplated that as a nice alternative for two seconds before she realized she wouldn’t last ten minutes with this guy doing anythingremotelysexual if he wasn’t putting his dick somewhere.That would be unfair, huh?That was it. Lucy had to stop thinking about every worst case scenario and simply go with the flow.From this second, I’m chilling out and going along with whatever. Way better experience if I do that. Way more likely to come out of it with a good story.
She hoped.
“To be fair, most of the women who sign up for this,” Noah said, “are either professionals or so deep in some lifestyle they go right into...” He cleared his throat. “I’m talking like I’ve done this before.”
“You haven’t?”
Lucy caught him off guard with that question. Badly enough that he had to recheck his posture and refocus his glaring attentions on her, instead of letting his eyes wander around the room. “Of course I’ve done this before. How else do you think I know what happens next?”
“Speaking of…” Lucy was halfway to untying her coat or picking up her bags. No in between. “Whatdoeshappen next? They said you might tell me where I will be staying?”
“I’m still finalizing the arrangements.” Noah said it with enough blasé confidence that Lucy didn’t think twice about it. Not until her instincts said,“Shouldn’t he know what’s going on if he’s hanging out, buying women for a month?”Whatever. Mr. Gabriel was finalizing arrangements for her hotel suite. Here was hoping it wasn’t too claustrophobic. “You will have an address by tomorrow evening. I know the club asks you to move into the arrangement provided by the next evening, but I’m working it out with them that you don’t have to come until Sunday. It works out much better for me. Unless that’s a problem for you?”
What? Being considerate? Was this really Mr. Gabriel’s style?I’m being trolled. This is a seriously elaborate troll!This was it. Lucy had to decide if she was living in a romantic comedy, or a dark romance. She vaguely knew the difference between them. She read a lot of Regency and Victorian romance! Charlotte Brontë was basically her big sister, and Jane Austen was her saucy younger cousin!
“No problem, Mr. Gabriel. Will it be here in the city?”
“No.”
Lucy had to double-take at that. Wasn’t her question rhetorical? “Excuse me?”
“I don’t live in New York City. I live nearby, though. I’ll send a car to pick you up early Sunday afternoon. It’s about a four hour drive.”
“I see.” Lucy averted her gaze. “For some reason, I assumed… never mind.”
“You’ll soon discover it best to not make too many assumptions about me, Ms. Craig.”
“Please.” Lucy let his words slide off her shoulders, but it wasn’t like rain off a duck’s back. More like tar weighing down her feathers. “Call me Lucy. Or Luce. Some people call me Luce.”
“Lucy. That should be fine.” Something twitched on his mouth. Was he holding back a Lucille Ball joke? Because Lucy had heard so many of those by now that she barely noticed them.Not my fault that’s the only Lucy most people know these days.Did not help that she was literally named after the ‘50s TV icon.My mother’s obsession with Golden Age TV is legendary.“I Love Lucy.” “Maude.” “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.” “Cagney & Lacey.” If there was a central female character annoying the men in her life, then Lucy’s mother was all over it.At least she didn’t name me Maude…She was almost named Bea, and that was bad enough.
“Should I call you…?” Lucy began.
“Mr. Gabriel is fine for now.”
“Good thing I’m already calling you that, huh?”
“Yes.”
Once that conversation finished, Lucy (wrongly) assumed that Noah would bid farewell and get on with his evening. Instead, he stood there, looking her up and down in her black coat and heavy makeup that was starting to feel like a weight on her face.I want to go home and wash this whole night off.She would spend the next month dolling herself up for this man so he would never forget what he paid for tonight. Was it too much to ask that they end this night early so she could get some rest and think up a better excuse to tell her family than,“Heeey doing some on-site work for a month! See y’all!”
Noah took a step toward her.
What was that feeling throttling Lucy’s soul? Fear? Panic? Apprehension? Was that her adrenaline pumping her up to get the hell out of there? Was that common sense and reason rearing their buzz-killing heads in the hopes she would high-tail it out of there? Before he had the chance to grab her?
Him… grabbing me… doing God knows what after that…
Uh oh. That wasn’t fear. That was anticipation.
Or was it? Lucy was so bewildered and overwhelmed that she didn’t know what to think. Dare she confuse attraction for fear? Dare she mix them up? Dare she look that man in the eyes and finally admit that she was attracted to him?
He is… hot. Like… actually hot.That wasn’t her brain fooling herself into making the best out of a shit situation. Lucy Craig was prepared for the ugliest of uggos and the most unpleasant sociopaths, but she wasn’t prepared for a good-looking guy closer to her own age than her father’s. She didn’t anticipate the full head of dark hair, the strong shoulders, and the decent cologne that didn’t permeate the whole room. This man had nothing to overcompensate for. He was confident.
He looked at her like he knew what they were about, but that it was all the same to him.
“Can I… ask you something?” Lucy said.
