<b>Chapter </b><b>27 </b>
Iughed, low and without humor. “Do you have any marketable skills that would justify me paying you hundreds of thousands of dors? Are you an expert in corporatew? Finance? Pack politics?”
I could see the conflict ying across her face–the desperate need to help her father warring with her pride and self–respect. Her knees appeared to weaken, and I knew it wasn’t just from fear or anger. There was something about our connection that affected her on a level she couldn’t exin or control.
“I need… time to think,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.
I caught her wrist, feeling her pulse race beneath my fingers. “Your father doesn’t have time, Reba. You said yourself his condition is deteriorating daily.”
The mention of her father brought reality crashing back for her. I could see it in her eyes–the painful awareness that her father was suffering while she hesitated.
“There must be another way,” she said, desperation creeping into her voice.
“There isn’t.” My tone was final. “This is my offer. Take it or leave it.”
She looked up at me, searching my face for any sign ofpassion, any indication that I might bend. I kept my expression resolute, my eyes like steel.
‘I need a day to think about it,” she said, clearly trying to buy herself time, space to breathe outside my overwhelming presence.
My eyes narrowed, and for a moment I considered refusing. Then I released her wrist and stepped back. She needed toe to me willingly–or at least with the illusion of choice.
“You have until tomorrow. Same time,” I said, my tone leaving no room for negotiation on this point. “But know this, Reba–this offer expires then. Your father’s condition won’t improve while you deliberate.”
The cruel reminder of her father’s deteriorating health made her stomach visibly tighten. She nodded stiffly, not trusting herself to speak.
“A reminder,” I said, my voice rough with desire, “of what you’re considering giving up if you refuse.”
She stepped back, her legs unsteady, her thoughts clearly in chaos. Without another word, she fled
7:57 <b>Sat</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>20 </b>
my office.
:
89
As the door closed behind her, I returned to my desk, adjusting my suddenly too–tight trousers. The mate bond thrummed with energy, stronger now after our physical contact. It would be so much easier if I could simply ignore it, pretend she was just another human, useful for a time and then
discarded.
But I couldn’t. Even now, with her gone from the room, I could feel her–a pull in my chest, an awareness of her presence as she descended in the elevator, moved through the lobby, stepped out
onto the street.
I turned to stare out the window, watching as Reba’s small figure emerged from the building below. She paused at the corner, her shoulders slumped, and I knew she was weighing her options, calcting angles, searching for a way out of the trap life had set for her.
There was none. Her father’s condition, her limited resources, herck of connections–all of these
had delivered her directly to me. It wasn’t a coincidence; it was fate.
My father had always said that true mates found each other, no matter the obstacles. I had dismissed it as romantic nonsense after Caroline’s betrayal. But now, watching Reba’s determined stride as
she crossed the street, I wondered if perhaps there was some truth to the old legends after all.
Not that it mattered. Mate or not, Reba Brown would soon be mine. The arrangements would
need to be made quickly–the vi prepared, her belongings moved, the payment for her father’s
treatment organized.
By this time tomorrow, she would be in my home, in my bed.
Chapter Comments
<b>?? </b>
Visitor
3 days ago
What a great way to begin a rtionship, by extorting and misleading your desperate partner. That will go well!
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