Billionaire’s Bounty(7)

“Your father hasn’t been well, has he?” Jude asked in an unhurried tone, making her pause unconsciously. His eyes were downcast, his expression veiled by his dark, enviously thick lashes. “From what I hear, he’s taken an extended holiday somewhere in Rio de Janeiro. He took the loss of the company very hard, I must imagine. And then there’s your brother, well-meaning but still, misguided. Trying to find ways to set things right but lacking the capital and the cunning.”

“Now look –”

“No, you look, Miranda,” he said, his voice chilling unexpectedly as he flashed his aqua-blue eyes to meet hers. “With just one word, you can make both their troubles go away. You could be the family heroine, doing what needs to be done to set things right. This might be the only chance available for the Quinn name to save face and get back on the ground. And all this with little or no cost to anyone.”

“Hearing you talk, one would think you were asking to do all this for nothing,” she couldn’t help but sneer, jarred by his cold facts.

Jude smiled slightly, relaxing back in his chair. “One week, Miranda. That’s all that’s required. I will be leaving for London in two days on a weeklong business trip. I will want you with me. To be at my beck and call, in a manner of speaking. Pleasing me in every way that I know that you can. Giving yourself to me again and again, with the same passion and desire that ignited between us that first moment we came face to face. I know you felt it – though you deny it with your eyes and lips, I know the truth. You want me just as badly. I’m simply making it easier for you this way.”

Miranda wanted to think up something cutting and sarcastic to say, but couldn’t. Besides, the waiter had reappeared with their first course, and she had to bite back any retort. Just thinking about his proposition: one week alone with him in another city, there to satisfy his every whim. And in return, the company would be her family’s again. Her father could come home. Her brother Jeffery would have the weight off his shoulders that had turned him into such a mass of worry the past few months.

In short, Jude Stone was presenting her an offer that was almost too good to be true.

And one she might forever regret not taking up when she had the chance...



***





Miranda still had that funny feeling everything that was happening was actually happening to someone else, not her. It was two days later and she was on her way to London with Jude Stone. He had a private jet – or course. And they had left the city two hours ago, en route to London. It was happening; she was officially taking the biggest, wildest step she’d ever taken in her life.

Once she’d agreed to go along with his scheme, everything seemed to have happened in a blur. She’d barely had the time or even the presence of mind to pack. In any case, Jude had already made it clear that she wouldn’t need that many clothes anyway.

He was seated across from her on the jet, looking through some papers. Next to him was his trusted PA, Carly. Their words as they discussed seemed to pass over Miranda’s head in a fog.

I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought. But she was doing it. She was on her way to London with Jude to be his sexual plaything for a week. By day he would do his business deals, and by night, she was to be willing and ready to fulfil every one of his perverted desires.

In her slim case, which lay on the seat beside her, was her copy of the papers that would Jude would sign by the end of their weeklong arrangement. With his signature, the company would be handed back to her father. Her family would be okay again, and everything would be back to normal.

And yet, was that the only reason she was here?

Miranda knew she would be lying if she said that. She looked surreptitiously at Jude, dressed impeccably as always in his sharp-fitting, stylish suit, hair waving in sleek golden locks across his forehead. He was all business, not sparing her much attention beyond asking if she wanted more champagne, or another tasteful, perfectly prepared dish to be provided by the on-flight chef.

Funny how the moment she’d accepted his highly unconventional, fiendish proposition, he’d seemed to cool off into his untouchable persona. Almost as if, now that he knew the deal was in the bag, so to speak, he’d virtually lost interest.

The very notion pricked. Which was annoying in itself. What had she expected, that he’d be drooling over her? He’d made an offer, she’d taken it. This was merely business, just like all the other corporate schemes he negotiated every single day. The sooner she phased herself into that concept, the easier this ordeal would be.