Last week we announced that Melody Anne’s Surrender is our Romance of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the Romance category: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!
Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded Surrender, you’re in for a real treat:
Surrender
by Melody Anne
4.2 stars – 209 Reviews
Kindle Price: FREE!
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Don’t have a Kindle? Get yours here.
Here’s the set-up:
Raffaello (Rafe) Palazzo takes what he wants with no regrets. Arianna (Ari) Lynn Harlow has led a charmed life until tragedy strikes her family. He’s looking for a no-emotions attached mistress, she’s looking for redemption.
They are not a pair that should ever work, but undeniable attraction and devastating tragedies bring them together in the city by the bay where he fights to keep their relationship nothing more than an enjoyable way to meet his needs, and she battles to not lose herself in him. Spending time with Ari starts cracking the hard shell that Rafe has built around his heart, but he denies the affect she has on him until it’s too late to stop the inevitable conclusion that their relationship is headed for.
Rafe once believed in happily ever after, coming from a large Italian family. He’s got the Midas touch, since every endeavor he tries turns to gold. That all ends when his wife walks out the door and leaves him blindsided. His devastation quickly turns to steel when he decides no woman will fool him again. From that point on he treats relationships as nothing more than business transactions where both party’s come out mutually benefited.
Just when Ari has sunk to the lowest she’s ever been she finds an ad in the paper announcing a job that’s too good to be true. It turns out she’s right. She makes it through the intense rounds of interviews only to find out the job is for a mistress to the powerful Rafe Palazzo, owner of Palazzo Enterprises. Rafe gives her a day to think about whether she wants the position or not, and she’s sent on her way, only to find out her mother’s near-terminal position has taken a turn for the worse. Her mom’s only in the hospital because Ari messed up, and her mother’s the one who paid the price. Is Rafe her savior, or will he take her with him straight to the depths of hell?
And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free excerpt:
Prologue
Divorce.
His throat closed up at the mere thought of that word. He was twenty-eight years old and had conquered the universe — or thought he had.
No! He had.
Then his picture-perfect world had shattered with a single word.
Divorce.
He’d been respectable and respectful, always treating women with admiration. He hadn’t jumped into marriage at twenty-one, but had dated the same woman for three years, had cherished her, had given her everything. He thought he’d found perfection, but found disillusion instead.
Raffaello Palazzo sat straight up; his eyes narrowed.
No! He wasn’t this man.
Even if groveling had been in his nature, which it most assuredly wasn’t, he wouldn’t consider doing it now.
“Goodbye.”
He barely glanced up as Sharron walked past, her five-thousand-dollar purse slung over her shoulder, and flaunted the smirk on her face as she slammed the door in all finality. She was gone, and he was grateful.
A couple of her complaints against him were that he worked too much and he wasn’t as attentive as she thought she deserved.
When he’d walked in the week before with a bouquet of roses, attempting to give her the attention she’d demanded, he’d seen that she wasn’t choosy about the source of the attention. She’d been in bed with his business partner.
Rafe’s eyes closed as he pictured that horrible afternoon.
“Are you cutting out on us?”
“It’s my anniversary. I had my wife’s favorite flower, the Hawaiian Flora, delivered express to the floral shop, and I’m picking up her bouquet, then taking her on a surprise trip to Paris. That’s where we celebrated our honeymoon.”
“You’re the most whipped man I know, Rafe,” his assistant, Mario Kinsor, said with a smile.
“I’m half Italian. My father learned the ways of my mother’s country and how gallant the men are and he taught me how to cherish a woman,” Rafe replied genially, not offended in the least. He hoped to have as strong a marriage as his parents had, and for just as long.
“When does Ryan get back? If you’re cutting out, I’ll need one of the business partners here to get work done.”
“He’s flying in on Friday. I spoke to him a few days ago, and he said he met someone. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“I can’t take any more of this mushy talk. Get out of here before your lovesickness becomes contagious. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Night, Mario. Thanks for all your hard work this week.”
Heading for the door, Rafe waved to his faithful assistant. Life was great — his corporation was flourishing without help from his family, and his personal life couldn’t be better.
It didn’t take Rafe long to breeze into the florist’s and then arrive home. When he couldn’t find Sharron downstairs, he smiled in anticipation. Maybe she was stretched out on their bed in a sexy nightie…
When Rafe opened the door, he did find her in bed, and scantily dressed — hell, not dressed at all — but she wasn’t alone. He froze as shock filled him.
“Ohhh, Ryan!” Sharron cried out, and Rafe’s illusions of happily ever after shattered.
Silently, he stood in the dim light as one of his two best friends screwed his wife. It had been Ryan, Shane and him since middle school, always sharing — always there for one another. Rafe guessed Ryan figured Rafe’s wife was included in what Rafe was willing to share. Wrong.
Rafe cleared his throat as Sharron screamed again in pleasure. The two of them froze — locked in their torrid embrace — before their heads turned and they looked at him in horror.
Rafe walked from the room and waited downstairs. Almost immediately, Ryan scurried from the house with his head down. Sharron rushed toward Rafe and started to beg for his forgiveness.
Rafe shook off the unpleasant memory as he glanced around him. For a single moment, he’d been shattered. He’d sacrificed so much of himself to please her — give her what she wanted — but none of that was enough. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice; he never did.
Rafe walked up the steps and stood just inside the bedroom door, looking warily around at the room where he’d slept beside that woman night after night. Shaking his head, he left and made his way toward his luxury kitchen. No memories lingered there. It wasn’t as though his wife had known the first thing about cooking.
He had a full staff, which was a good thing. Otherwise his house would have been in shambles and he’d never have gotten fed. Sharron hadn’t been domestic in the least. He hadn’t cared about that — all he’d wanted was to have the same kind of family life with her as the one he’d grown up with. Before this moment, he’d been under the sad delusion that marriages could all have happy endings.
A cold silence hung around him like a shroud, and Rafe was grateful he’d sent his staff away for the day. He didn’t need anyone witnessing his failure.
Failure.
He rolled the word around on his tongue. It didn’t sound right. How could it? Failure was a foreign concept to him. He’d been born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. And his mother often teased him, saying he was an old soul in a young body.
She was the only one who could get away with a remark like that — he adored her. Well, to be fair, his sisters got away with it, too, and for the same reason.
Rafe had a sudden feeling that all his family members would be relieved to hear of the coming divorce, especially his mother, though she’d never admit it to him. She had tried to get close to his soon-to-be ex-wife, but somehow it had never happened. Had Sharron had any desire at all to know his family? Now that he thought of it, he couldn’t recall any evidence in her favor. True, he wouldn’t have noticed while the two of them were dating, because that was during the six months out of the year that his family resided in Italy. By the time his parents and sisters had returned for their six months in California, he and Sharron were already married.
And then? It hit him right in the gut. From the very beginning, Sharron had been great at making up excuses for why she couldn’t visit with them. But he was in love and stupid and he just hadn’t noticed. If he had, he would never have become so serious about her. He’d been raised to believe that family always came first. Upon their marriage, he’d put her first, just as his father had put his mother first. Soon, he’d cut down on visiting his family —she’d said she couldn’t go, and he wanted to please her by remaining with her. He’d done a lot of things to make the woman happy.
Apparently none of it had been enough.
With a last glance around the kitchen, he lifted his cell phone and dialed. His call was picked up on the other end of the line before the phone could ring twice.
“Sell the house. I want nothing in it,” Rafe said to his assistant in clipped tones.
“Yes, sir.” There was no arguing. Mario had been an employee of his from the day Rafe had started his billion-dollar corporation. The man was loyal, efficient, and trustworthy. Rafe couldn’t imagine how much harder his job would have become without his favorite employee.
Rafe had learned everything from his dad, Martin Palazzo, who had made millions in the stock market, and later in smart real-estate investments. Martin had met Rosabella, Rafe’s mother, while traveling for business in Italy. The two of them had been inseparable ever since, but Rosabella couldn’t stand to stay away from her homeland for more than six months at a time, which was why Rafe had spent half his childhood in Italy and half in the States.
Because of his multicultural upbringing, he was much more prepared to take on the global business structure he’d adopted. He was a fierce businessman and loyal to the end to those he loved. After today, trust would be something he held much closer to his heart and gave only with caution.
Rafe had decided from an early age that he needed to make his own way in life — not just have everything handed to him by his wealthy parents. He wasn’t stupid, though. He’d taken his father’s advice, had even done business with him, but Rafe had dreamed big — and turning that dream into reality had taken him much less time than it would have taken the average person.
Whenever he walked into his twenty-five-story office building in San Francisco, he felt a justified pride. He created jobs for hundreds of thousands of people throughout the world, gave them an income, made sure they went to bed each night with a full stomach and the security of more work to be done in the morning.
He gave so much — and unlike his soon-to-be ex-wife, his employees were grateful and regarded him almost as a king. Sharron had thrown everything he’d given her right back in his face. Except for money.
Rafe was finished with women. Well, he thought with an arrogant smirk, finished with playing the good guy. It was his turn to take what he wanted. Never again would he be used — never again would he put his heart out there to be carelessly trampled on.
Walking purposefully out his front door, he’d refused to even turn around to watch the final latching of the lock. When he was through with something, it was over. He was done with this house.
Placing his hand on the cool metal handle on the door of his black Bentley, he barely heard the familiar click as the catch released. And as he climbed into the seat, he was oblivious to the fresh, pungent smell of the smooth leather upholstery.
Pulling quickly out of the driveway, Rafe began heading the short distance to the city, where he had a condo a couple of blocks from his office building. Luckily, Sharron had refused to live in San Francisco, causing him to sleep there on the many late nights he’d worked. The apartment was his — his alone.
If she’d so much as touched the doorway of the roomy penthouse, he’d have sold it as well. He wanted no reminders of the woman, nothing of her to remain in his life. He wanted a fresh slate. To have the last eight years back — that’s what he wanted most of all, but since that was impossible, he’d simply have to erase her completely from his life from this day forward.
A few more phone calls and that would be done.
Chapter One
Three years later
“You’re too thin.”
Arianna Harlow trembled as the man prowled around her, continuously circling her chair. She felt like a caged animal just waiting for him to strike. Why was she still sitting there? Why didn’t she say the job wasn’t for her, that it had all been a big mistake and she’d best be on her way?
She knew why. Reality flooded her mind — why she couldn’t afford to walk away — that was, if he offered her the job. She was barely staying above water with her bills overflowing. Her mother was about to be moved from the rehabilitation home she was in, shipped to a lesser facility, and Ari didn’t have a dollar left in her bank account.
She was truly afraid. If her mother were sent to the state care facility, she’d probably wither away to nothing and in no time at all. Ari couldn’t let that happen — she wouldn’t.
Arianna had already dropped out of school during her last semester, her life forever changed because of one brief moment in time, because of one horrendous mistake.
If only…
Those two words had haunted her thoughts for the past six months. She had several different endings to those words, but the dominant words were if only…
If only she hadn’t called her mom in panic that night.
If only she hadn’t gone to the party in the first place.
If only her mother had left a few minutes later.
“Are you listening to me?” Raffaello Palazzo’s voice rumbled through the air, causing Ari to jump in her seat. She had to think for a moment about what he’d last said to her. Oh, yeah, she was too thin.
“Yes, Mr. Palazzo. I just don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Hmm.” His voice came out as a hum, drifting across her nerve endings. Rafe was incredibly intimidating as he paced back and forth, towering over her at a few inches above six feet. Add to that his jet-black hair and stunning eyes and she felt like a rumpled factory worker, totally out of her element in this exquisite office.
As he made another pass around the room and neared her, Ari thought back over the last week — how strange it had been. Never before had she jumped through such hoops during a job interview.
She’d applied for more than a hundred jobs in the past month, and only three employers had called her back. One job had been at a bank; the manager had called her a few days later, saying they’d given the position to another applicant. The second was at an insurance company, and they’d told her she didn’t have enough experience.
The third job…well, she didn’t really know how to describe what she’d been through. The ad had said only this:
Seeking full-time applicants for Palazzo Corporation. Must be willing to work seven days a week, long hours. Must have no other commitments — no family, second jobs, or school. Salary 100k a year plus expenses. Hand-delivered applications only.
Ari thought getting the job would be a long shot, but she had nothing to lose by applying. She had immediately spruced up her résumé, which only included two years in her local pizza parlor, then almost four years as a part-time secretary in the Stanford history department. And after that, nothing — a six-month gap in employment while she took care of her mother and dealt with the fallout of that disastrous night.
With only one semester away from graduation, her life had changed forever because of the first foolish mistake she’d ever made. Why had she been so careless with only a few short months to go? Now that night would haunt her, be something she’d have to live with for the rest of her life.
With a leather notebook in hand, résumé and application inside, she had entered the large building and approached the security guard in the lobby, who’d directed her to the secretary’s office on the twenty-fifth floor. In she’d walked with what she hoped was confidence exuding from her every pore, and she’d handed over her polished résumé.
“Thank you, Ms. Harlow. If you’ll have a seat, Mr. Kinsor will call you in shortly.”
Oddly enough only women were in the room when Ari sat down, not a male applicant to be seen. The frightening part was that all of them looked far more qualified for whatever office position was open. One by one the women had stepped into a room, the door shutting behind them. After about ten minutes they’d walked back out, their expressions confident as they eyed the remaining applicants. This business world was a sharkfest and Ari didn’t know if she was up for the swim.
“Ms. Harlow?”
“Right here,” she’d called, then stood and walked purposefully toward the small man wearing glasses and a gentle smile on his face.
“This way, please.”
She’d followed him into a room where a blue screen was set against the wall. There was a table with a piece of paper and a pen sitting atop it and nothing more.
“Please have a seat. I’m going to take your picture.”
Ari hadn’t understood the need for a picture just yet. Possibly it was for an ID card or employee badge, but usually that was done after you were hired. Maybe they were running it through security to make sure she wasn’t a criminal. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to protest.
She had taken her seat and waited for the flash, knowing her smile wasn’t genuine, but her anticipation had been so high, it was impossible to offer anything bigger than a slight grimace.
“Please fill out this form and make sure all contact information is correct. If you’ve passed to the second part of our screening process, we’ll call you in three to five days,” Mr. Mario Kinsor had said with the same gentle smile.
He hadn’t asked her whether she had any questions. He hadn’t elaborated on the job. Normally, she would have just filled out the paperwork and kept silent, but her rising curiosity had pushed her with an unknown bravery to ask what the job actually was.
“Mr. Kinsor, the ad in the paper was vague. What exactly does this job entail?”
“If you make it to the next level, you’ll be given more information, Ms. Harlow. I’m sorry, but Mr. Palazzo is a very private man and this position is…confidential,” he’d answered with a slight pause.
“I understand,” Ari had said with a brittle smile, though she hadn’t understood at all.
She’d scanned the solitary paper on the table and her confusion had only worsened.
What are your hobbies?
Are you in a serious relationship? If not, when was the last one you were in?
Are you available to travel?
What kind of questions were these? Was the second one even allowed in a job interview? Still, she’d answered as best she could and finally read a question that made sense:
What are your career goals?
The sentence had elicited a genuine smile. Before her mother’s car accident, before her life had changed so dramatically, she’d been an honors student at Stanford, working toward her bachelor’s degree in history. She’d planned on getting her master’s, then a doctorate so she could be a university professor.
Someday…
In her heart of hearts she still held out hope of resuming her life at some point — accomplishing the goals she’d set for herself. But instant guilt filled her whenever that hope entered conscious thought. Her mother would have liked to have her life back, too, but she never would. It was only fair that Ari make sacrifices. Ari had to atone for her sins.
Her mother had sacrificed for her entire life so that Ari could have what she needed. She’d paid for Ari’s education at a small private school, and then she’d scrimped and saved to send her to the best college. Ari had earned scholarships, but her mother paid for her room and board and even her beloved car.
Ari had never realized how much her mother had given of herself until the day her mom had been checked into the hospital. Circumstances now demanded that Ari grow up quickly, without having her mother to lean on. She was now responsible for her mom’s care — and Ari was failing at her new role in life.
Since the day of her mother’s car accident, their lives had been filled with utter trepidation and uncertainty.
Thankfully, the Palazzo Corporation had called her back. But the second interview had been more odd than the first. She’d been put through a fitness test. They’d had her run on a treadmill for half an hour, timed her as she navigated an obstacle course, and then tested her endurance.
She’d run track all through high school and continued her running at college, so the physical aspect hadn’t been a problem, but with each step she’d taken in the bizarre interview process, she’d felt rising concern about what she was applying for.
All they’d offered in response at the second interview was that it was a private position with the CEO of the corporation. Maybe she was expected to dodge bullets in countries he was invading? She’d heard rumors that his businesses weren’t always welcome overseas — that some of the governments thought he was overstepping his bounds.
From the research Ari had done, the people normally welcomed him, as he paid high wages and offered excellent benefit packages. A lot of the time it seemed it was other businesses that wanted to keep him out because when he came in, he conquered, no matter what industry he was pursuing. So she knew that if she got the job, she’d have security. People rarely quit when they worked for the Palazzo Corporation.
The pay for the position was high enough to give her mother good medical care and still leave enough left over for her to save up — possibly getting her back to school within a couple of years. At this point, she’d do almost anything to be hired.
“Ms. Harlow, if you aren’t going to take this interview seriously, you may exit the way you came in,” Mr. Palazzo said in an irritated tone, snapping her back to the present.
“I’m sorry. I truly am. I do take this interview very seriously,” she quickly answered, hoping she hadn’t missed a question.
“I won’t repeat myself again — do you understand?” Before she could answer, he continued. “I asked if you’re available all hours. I don’t mean Monday through Friday. This job requires your availability to me seven days a week, night and day. There will be times I won’t need you for extended periods, and other times I’ll need you with me for several days straight. There may be travel involved. The bottom line is that you must have zero other commitments. If that doesn’t work for you, this interview is over.”
Ari felt a lump in the back of her throat as she struggled to hold in the tears threatening to spring to her eyes. She finally gazed into his unusually colored eyes, getting her first solid look at them.
She’d heard about his type of eyes before, with something called heterochromia iridis, where two colors were present. His had a deep purple center around the pupil, fading into a gorgeous midnight blue. They were mesmerizing — intriguing — capturing her gaze, even though they were narrowing intensely right then.
“I have no other commitments. I’m available,” she told him, inwardly crossing her fingers. She was committed to her mother, but with this money she wouldn’t have to worry about her mom’s care. She’d go see her when she had those downtimes he was speaking of. If she didn’t get in to see her mom for a month, she’d be devastated, but her mom would be in good hands, and, most importantly, she wouldn’t notice since she was in a coma.
“What about your mother?” he asked, as if reading her mind, his gaze boring into hers. She was stunned by the question, leaving her silent for a couple of seconds too long.
“How do you know about my mom?”
“I know everything I need to know about you, Arianna,” he replied with a slight lifting of the corner of his mouth.
His expression was far too knowing and she immediately felt the urge to flee. Something wasn’t right; something was telling her to get out while she still could. She was in over her head — she could feel it. All signs pointed to jumping from the chair and rushing out his door. But no. Loyalty to her mother kept her seated where she was.
“Yes. Of course,” she responded. “My mother is being well taken care of. She’s not even aware of who I am at this point. It won’t hurt her in the least if she doesn’t see me for long stretches of time.”
He circled her again, causing her foot to twitch. When she was nervous, she did one of two things — tapped her foot, much to the annoyance of everyone around her, or bit on her thumbnail. She felt the urge to raise her hand, to make contact between thumbnail and teeth, but with great mental effort she kept her hands folded in her lap.
“I can see that as a hindrance, but as she’s the only family member you have, I’ll let it slide for now.”
Was this guy for real? He’d let it slide? Ari was taking in air through her nose in long, deep pulls to keep her temper at bay. She needed the job, she kept reminding herself as she clenched her fingers tightly and locked her jaw to keep the words she wanted to throw at him from rushing out.
“Is something upsetting you, Ms. Harlow?” he asked, his voice smooth as molasses as he came back around and looked into her eyes again. She felt as if he were analyzing her, breaking her down into parts, trying to decide whether she was a waste of his time or not. She was sure that was how he conducted all his business. It was most likely why he was where he was in life, at the top of the ladder, and why she was at the bottom.
Some people oozed pure confidence, the ability to command and conquer the universe, and Mr. Palazzo had that in spades. She’d have given her soul for just a piece of his winning attitude and unyielding faith in himself.
“Everything’s fine, Mr. Palazzo,” she replied, proud of how calm and level her voice sounded, especially since her nerves were fried.
“You intrigue me, Ms. Harlow. I don’t hesitate once I make a decision, and I’ve decided to hire you…temporarily. I can see that your temper might cause a problem, but then again, meek has never been my style. Obedient…yes, but not meek.”
Ari gaped at him as she tried to decipher his words. What was he talking about? What did meek and obedient have to do with anything?
“You’re aware you signed a nondisclosure agreement before ever setting foot into my office, correct? Whatever is said by me is strictly confidential…and that legal agreement highly enforced. A former employee tried to go to the media — once. Let’s just say, she’s now in prison…and the rumors were quickly squashed. I very much play hardball, Ms. Harlow, and it would behoove you to not become my enemy,” he said in a conversational voice.
Ari swallowed hard as her eyes continued to follow him intently. He spoke of a woman’s going to prison as if he were absently mentioning what he had eaten for lunch the previous day. Did she really want to work for this man?
But honestly, what choice did she have?
“I’m aware of what I signed, Mr. Palazzo.” Ari sat up straighter in her chair, the reality of obtaining the job starting to set in. She wasn’t afraid of being locked up in prison, because she knew how to keep things private. It wasn’t as though she had any girlfriends to gossip with, anyway. She’d always been too focused on school to make new friends.
Her one attempt at socializing…the thought made her shudder. It was the reason she was stuck in an interview for a job she was afraid to know the title of, instead of sitting in class listening to her professor.
Rafe Palazzo’s searing gaze fixed her to the spot. He’d said that he didn’t go back once he made a decision, but the assessing look in his eyes belied his words. She could see that he was undecided whether he wanted actually to hire her.
She said a quick prayer that she hadn’t blown this opportunity. Of course, her mother’s words of advice as she’d dropped Ari off at the Stanford dorms for the first time flashed through her mind. Her mom had told her that, if the situation looks too good to be true, then it probably is, and you should run like hell in the other direction. Maybe she should start running, Ari thought.
“Very well, then, Ms. Harlow. The job position is for a mistress…my mistress, to be exact.”
Chapter Two
Rafe watched as Arianna’s eyes widened at his words. He knew he should send her on her way, but from the first moment she’d stepped inside his building there was something so mystifying about her that his interest had been instantly piqued.
She possessed an almost haunting quality in her eyes, but he pushed that thought aside. He couldn’t afford to feel anything more than lust for the women in his life. He respected some of his lovers, but it was only minimal. He didn’t mistrust them — he just wouldn’t let them in.
He needed the women for a specific purpose — that was all. They satisfied his needs, and that was a must, since he was a highly sexual man. They also accompanied him to events where he was expected to have a woman on his arm. He normally couldn’t care less what the world thought about him, but he enjoyed feeling a woman’s soft curves pressing up against his body while lackluster business colleagues hemmed him in.
The fullness of a woman’s pale breasts peeking out of a dark satin gown, the way her thighs would flash at him with each step she took into a room — the sight of a few strands of her hair as they tumbled down around her shoulders, begging for him to release the knot at the back of her head from its tight confines to allow her thick mane to flow forth. The extreme femininity of a woman held his attention during such tedious gatherings. All those things and more were what kept him interested in having a mistress.
He liked women to be near him; he liked them to do his bidding. He really liked them to satisfy his needs.
Since his divorce he’d discovered he had far more needs than he ever realized. He hadn’t found a woman who could keep his interest longer than three months ever since the day Sharron had left. He was fine with that.
When he got bored, he found another willing applicant. The line of women willing to serve him was a mile long — after all, he was Rafe Palazzo, and the world was his oyster, his playground. Both the women he deigned to choose and those he didn’t were hoping — all of them — to have an affair with him turn into something a lot more permanent. Too bad for them it would never happen.
His mistresses were nothing more than employees and that’s precisely how he treated them. They got paid very well, were offered a severance package, and in turn, he was kept satisfied. It was win-win for both parties involved.
Arianna Harlow’s frozen expression made him think she wasn’t going to work out as his next employee, and he was taken aback by the slight stab of disappointment he felt. Though no one he’d offered a job to had turned him down yet, he expected it to happen eventually. Surprisingly, there were women in the world who felt…uneasy about this kind of arrangement.
He honestly couldn’t comprehend why. After all, he was doing nothing but ditching the obnoxious dating part of sex. Why not cut to the chase and tell a woman exactly what he wanted for himself and expected from her? It made everything so much simpler.
Arianna held an almost broken, yet still spirited look in her eyes, as though he’d just shot her beloved puppy and she were thinking of ways of seeking revenge. Annoyance began building inside Rafe as her gaze darted in any direction but at his face. He didn’t like feeling that weak emotion coursing through him. This was business — nothing more. There wasn’t room for anger, annoyance, feelings of any kind, really. Emotions like that were for lesser human beings than him.
“Take this material home and read through it. I’ll let you consider your options. However, I expect an answer by five tomorrow evening.”
He had a lot more work to accomplish that day and needed to get on with it. He handed her a stack of papers, then held his arm out to assist her from her seat. She glanced warily at his hand as if worried he were going to strike her. His irritation spiked.
“I may be making a mistake by offering you the job. I should simply withdraw the offer, but luckily for you, I’ve decided not to. I hope you appreciate how fortunate you are that I’m giving you time to think about it. There’s a line of women who would literally kill to be in the position you’re in.”
Though he could see the words registering in her brain, she was clearly trying to conceal what she was thinking. So the sooner she was out of his office, the better for him. He needed to take a few moments to decide whether she really was the right candidate.
***
Ari felt frozen to her seat. She should tell the guy to go ahead and give the position to one of the many women in that disgusting line of his, and then take herself from the room. She couldn’t do this — no matter how much the job was paying.
Guilt consumed her, though — guilt over her mother, who was lying helpless in a small bed, missing her life — a life she’d always lived to the utmost until a phone call woke her up in the middle of the night.
“Thank you,” Ari replied as she finally accepted the hand Rafe was offering. As their skin touched, a small current of electricity passed through their fingers, sizzling her skin and making her insides burn in a strangely pleasurable way.
She quickly pulled back from him, rattled, unhappy with the unwelcome and foreign sensation. Without anything more being said, she walked stiltedly toward the door and then made her way to the elevator.
Ari could feel him beside her, no longer touching, but keeping pace with her as she tried to make a dignified exit. Why couldn’t he have just stayed in his office instead of insisting on walking her out? She felt the air weighing down on her lungs and began fighting the desire to gasp as she tried to suck in more oxygen. She knew the danger was all in her head — there was zero chance of her suffocating. Ridiculous as it was, she had to keep reassuring herself of just that.
Mr. Palazzo reached out and pressed the down button and then stood with her; her eyes focused on the steel doors before her and she counted the seconds in her head. She’d heard the expression about tension being so thick you could slice it with a knife, but until this very moment, she’d never experienced the phenomenon. There was a first time for everything, and she seemed to be hitting several firsts in Rafe Palazzo’s presence.
Open, open, open, she chanted inwardly. The elevator’s arrival was made known by the chiming of the bell, which seemed much louder than usual, and she fought the impulse to jump in alarm. She entered the car before the doors were fully open, then immediately stepped to the lit panel inside and pressed the lobby button, followed by the button to close the door.
As the doors began shutting — heavens, it seemed to take forever! — Ari finally glanced up, her eyes colliding with Mr. Palazzo’s intense stare. As hard as she tried to break the connection, she couldn’t manage to turn her head away. When the doors finally snapped shut, she sagged against the back wall of the large box and waited for its slow descent.
After the elevator made the journey without stopping along the way and the doors opened to the lobby, she stepped out and quickly made her way across the marble floor and straight through the front doors.
Ari didn’t stop until she made it to the next block. Finally, with disappointed steps, she slowed down to a more leisurely saunter until she found a bench. She gratefully sank down. Only in that moment did she allow herself to take her first deep breath since leaving Rafe Palazzo’s office.
She sat for a while, trying her best not to hyperventilate. She felt as if she just couldn’t get enough oxygen, but she determinedly took in slow, measured breaths. She should have said, Thank you for the offer, but no. She should have laughed at the ridiculous request. She should have…
With a quiet, deprecating laugh, Ari cut off those thoughts. It was a waste of time to think about what she should have done. Her what ifs were bad enough.
But…could she do it? Could she sell herself? He was asking her to be nothing more than a high-paid prostitute, right? That’s what it boiled down to, like a scene right out of Indecent Proposal.
Forcing herself to stand, Ari began walking the three blocks to the Palazzo Corporation parking garage. Without noticing the time that had passed during her rambles, she went up the outside steps to the third floor of the parking structure, spotted her car and climbed in the front seat. She just sat there for a moment.
As she started the engine and began driving slowly down the ramps to the exit, she remained lost in thought. She needed to get home and review the papers he’d given her — reassure herself that she couldn’t take the job.
Making such a colossal decision required serious consideration. A few months ago, she never would have even considered the possibility that something like this went on. She’d been truly naïve to the world around her, protected from life’s harsh realities. However, all her innocence had shattered the day the police had shown up at that college party.
In her mother’s last conscious moments, her only concern had been for Ari’s safety. Her mom had managed to tell the officers they needed to get to her daughter — that Ari was in danger. Only then had her mother succumbed to her injuries.
Instead of her mother, it was the policemen who’d showed up at the frat house where Ari was waiting, and then who’d transported her to the hospital. She’d waited for hours in the lobby, terror helping to sober her up fast.
When the doctor eventually came out of surgery, his news hadn’t been good. Her mother was stable, but in a coma. They’d done all they could do for her. Only time would tell if she’d ever come out of it.
Sandra Harlow had had severe swelling in her brain, and they’d had to operate, drilling burr holes in her skull. Along with the head injuries, she’d also suffered two broken ribs, a cracked hip, and lacerations to her face. When Ari entered her mom’s room, she’d nearly passed out at the scene before her. Its image haunted her even now.
If the staff hadn’t guaranteed that the person lying in the bed was her mother, Ari wouldn’t have known. The woman had been unrecognizable with her swollen face and the bandages covering her. Ari had sobbed as she’d laid her head on her mother’s bed and apologized repeatedly. If it hadn’t been for Ari, her mom would be home, sleeping safe and sound. Ari would never forgive herself for what she’d done.
Struggling to push such heart-wrenching memories aside, Ari focused on the road and pulled up at her small studio apartment. She slowly made her ascent up the staircase, her feet dragging as her mind raced. The papers Rafe had handed her were burning a hole in her purse.
She got to her door and fiddled with the key for several moments — if she didn’t get it into the lock just right, it wouldn’t turn. Heck, she thought, it would probably be faster to slip a credit card into the doorjamb.
She’d watched enough movies that she could probably break into a lot of places if she needed to. The thought made her smile as the lock finally clicked and she pushed open the door. Maybe she could find a job breaking and entering. It would be a more dignified profession than prostitution.
Though the day had started only a few hours ago, exhaustion was nipping at Ari’s heels. She sat down on the couch and glared at her purse as if there were a snake inside of it just waiting for the opportunity to strike. Did she really want to see what Mr. Palazzo had planned for her?
With great reluctance, she finally unzipped the bag and slowly pulled the papers out, her gaze a bit clouded as she glanced down. She fought the urgency to toss them, but reality — and a slight curiosity — won out.
With only a week left at the apartment before rent was due, and no other jobs on the horizon, she needed to weigh her options. The burden of knowing that her mother’s living conditions would worsen without Ari’s financial support made the decision about the position even more crucial.
She’d already sold her mother’s home — the place Ari had grown up in. It had broken her heart to pack her mom’s most valuable possessions and take them to storage. She’d prepaid the unit for a year, taking no chances on losing the items that meant so much to her mom.
Everything Ari had of any decent value had been auctioned off. She’d done everything she could do up to this point. Now, she had to find work — and it seemed no one wanted to hire a college dropout, even if she had been an A student. It meant nothing if she couldn’t finish her degree.
In the end, she really had no choice but to look at the material before her. Grasping the papers determinedly, she unfolded them and started scanning the words. By the time she got to the end she literally wanted to throw up. She couldn’t do this — no way.
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