Page 2 of Captivated By You

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Page 2 of Captivated By You

“When I agreed to let you move here, and help you get on your feet, this isn’t what I expected, or planned.”

“I know.” Rolling back my shoulders, I straightened my spine and clasped my hands in my lap. “But I also have the background and lifestyle to make you, and Infidelity proud.”

God. Was I selling my selling myself for this? Everything I said was true, yet it still tasted like sludge in my stomach.

Sure, I had the upbringing to be a pretty piece of arm candy and the intellect to handle any appropriate conversations with some of the richest men in the country, but I wasn’t naive. I was also offering to sell my body.

A body that’d been essentially untouched.

Now, what did it matter? What did any of it matter? I needed money, and no one was going to take care of myself except for me.

Karen picked up a pen and tapped it on her desktop. “Take your lunch break. Give me time to consider this.”

“That’s all I ask.”

I gave her a brief nod and stopped at my desk to grab my purse before heading to the elevator. The entire time, I tried to push down the butterflies raging war in my stomach. I offered to sell myself, knowing it could potentially mean my body as well, and I never passed second base in high school or college. But what else was I supposed to do? My degree in British Literature wasn’t worth much. I wasn’t expected to get a B.S. or a Ph.D., I was expected to get an MRS., produce heirs, the same as any other respected, wealthy woman in Savannah’s elite society was supposed to do.

I wasn’t a virgin for lack of desire or high morals, mostly it was because I grew up always too worried about disappointing my parents. There were a lot of expectations, but there was also love.

At least, I’d always thought so.

That all blew apart the day my father blew his brains out.

I’d grown up thinking I had everything, more than what money could buy. I’d had a mom and dad who gave a shit about me. Parents who spent time with me, which was much more than I could say for several of the friends I grew up with. Their parents were too concerned about who was traveling where and working where and who they were wearing to care about helping kids with their homework, watching their dance recitals, or going on family vacations where families actually spent time together.

Mine were different. At least, I’d thought they were. Now, except for Karen, who I barely knew, I had no one.

What else was I supposed to do?

The familiar, and hated, rush of emotions hit me as I descended in the elevator, only to jolt me out of the memories slashing against my brain as the doors opened in the lobby.

The doors dinged and I stepped off them as soon as they opened, staring at my phone when suddenly, I walked right into a large mountain of muscle.

“Oh!” My phone went flying and I bounced back, and fell flat on my backside.

“Oh, shit.” I heard and looked up.

And found myself staring directly at Liam Allistor. His handsome face, his sexy as sin smile, his heart-stopping black eyes and panty-melting muscled body on display, even if it was hidden underneath his skintight Johnny Cash T-shirt.

Hot damn. He was a thousand times sexier in person than he was on stage, and I’d seen him perform there plenty.