Naughty Little Gift -- A Temptation Court Novella (Temptation Court, Book 1) by Angel Payne Page A

all right. It’s just us. I’m listening.”
    I’ll always listen.
    “This—this is not you ‘buying’ me,” she finally mumbles.
    I let my hands slip free. Lean back on my haunches, sensing she needs the distance. “But you don’t believe that.”
    Her lips purse. “It is a non-negotiable part of the contract, Cassian. What would you have me believe?”
    I firm my own features. It’s the hardest goddamn thing to do around her, screwing on my “business” brain, but I cinch the fucker tight and go on, “Because your father would be open to considering the courtship of an American otherwise?”
    “You underestimate my father’s open-mindedness when money is part of the equation.”
    “I don’t underestimate it one bit. But for all intents and purposes, at least in his eyes, I’ll be carrying you off then ruining you.” I have to force the next words out. “Making your involvement an ‘option’ gives him an opening for sneaky bullshit. I wouldn’t put it past him to double-dip on this opportunity.”
    Her nose crinkles. “I do not understand. Double…dip?”
    “He’ll take my money, but still sell off your greatest asset to some horny Arcadian courtier who’s stupid enough to believe some made-up line about your absence, like you’ve been on the other side of the island on a ‘research trip’ for Brooke.” I raise both brows. “There are men that gullible in the Arcadian court, Ella. If I can discern that after two days here—”
    “I know, I know.” Her eyes squeeze shut. “Your assessment is—” A wince takes over. “Correct,” she finally concludes. “You are…correct.”
    More than she wants me to be. The slew of truths has stabbed her, as I knew it would—but this is why I’ve ordered her parents from the room. If they were still here, she wouldn’t feel safe to speak this honestly. “My ‘greatest asset’,” she finally echoes, blinking at me with aching eyes. “Is that what you are after too, then? Have all the shops on Fifth Avenue run out of shiny virgins, that you have seized the chance to snap one up as a souvenir from Arcadia?”
    Her defiance marks each word but she ends with a ragged inhalation—already expecting my righteous fury. Silly, sad, heartbreaking woman. If she only knew that righteous and I have never claimed to remotely know each other—such an abiding truth, her question was one of my first considerations when drafting the new contract.
    Battling the urge to yank her close, I settle for locking her in by leveling our gazes. “Ella, if I’d met you here as a hooker in the Sancti marketplace, it wouldn’t have mattered.” I stop for a second, considering that. “Though I’d likely be on my knees in your pimp’s living room instead of here…”
    “Having an easier time of it.”
    We laugh at her finishing my thought. We sigh because that feels as natural—and as exhilarating, and as intense—as the rest of what has happened between us. We sober because the enormity of it hits again too. The mutual recognition that if this is what everything feels like after two days, I shouldn’t be pushing fate’s favor by forging a contract for six months.
    Six months.
    Not. Nearly. Enough.
    I shove aside the sentimental bullshit. It’s enough, you mooning ass. Long enough to get my fill of her, but not so long that I tire of her. More importantly, not long enough for her to start tugging at the threads…asking all the wrong questions…
    The threads don’t get tugged.
    The secrets don’t get revealed.
    It’s for the best, no matter how hard she gets my cock or complete she makes my spirit. In the tapestry of her life, I’ll become just a thread as well. The way it should be. The lover who took her virginity, but gave her a bigger gift in return.
    Her freedom.
    And there’s the ultimate ace card in my deck.
    The one element she cannot obtain on her own…just six months within her grasp. I watch her start to understand it, her eyes eagerly