Anything He Wants 2: All's Fair Read Online Free Page B

me did nothing to disguise what they were: a cage, designed to
keep me off balance and at his mercy.
    Finally, finally ,
I got mad. “Why me? Why all this?” I gestured around the room.
    He cocked
his head to the side. “Why not you?”
    He was
turning my questions back around at me and that pissed me off. “I was nothing in
your life, hands to type data then be tossed to the streets when I was no
longer useful. So why am I here?”
    His lips
thinned but he said nothing. Moving across the room to a large marble table, he
picked up a crystal carafe and poured himself a glass of the amber liquid it
held. “My career consists of me looking for potential,” he said, swirling the
liquor around as he regarded me dispassionately. “It’s my job to find
businesses that I can buy or sponsor, fix up, then sell for a profit.”
    “So what
am I, a project?”
    A tip of
his head sideways confirmed my suspicions. “You were ambitious, clever as a
college student, used to a certain kind of existence. Life dealt you a hard
hand, brought you lower than you thought possible.” He saluted me with the
glass before taking a sip. “You would never have turned down a chance to get
back on your feet, no matter what the cost.”
    “So give
me a job,” I said, the sarcasm dripping off my tongue. “You didn’t need to
strip me of my dignity, make me... The elevator, the garage--”
    The thump
of the glass on the serving tray shocked me out of my anger. “You rode that
elevator every morning,” Jeremiah said in a low voice, staring at the crystal
carafe, “giving me those little glances, getting close but not too close.” His
eyes met mine, and I sucked in a breath at the fire I saw there. “I knew your
scent, knew when that need rolled across you. Those secret little
smiles, not knowing what was going through your head...”
    My breath
caught as he trailed off, the fingers clenching the top of the glass white with
strain. I don’t believe you. “I’m nobody,” I said, my own words driving
daggers through my heart.
    His free
hand clenched into a fist against a hard thigh as his jaw tightened, then his body relaxed. He strode up to me and I fell back a
step, trying in vain to hold the last of my anger as a shield. Being so close
to him was intimidating; my heart thudded in my chest as I looked to the side,
unable to be strong any longer.
    A finger
came under my chin and lifted my head until I was staring up at him. His face
was as implacable as ever but his voice was mild as he repeated his earlier
request. Demand. “Take off your robe.”
    The words
reverberated through my body, his proximity doing strange things to my mind,
and I found my hands untying the belt to my robe. The soft material slid back
off my arms and onto the floor, pooling at my heels. Fully exposed to him for
the first time ever, I closed my eyes against his perusal, a tear squeezing out
between my eyelashes.
    When he
put his arms around me I stiffened, but his hands stayed on my shoulders as he
turned me around. “Look at something,” he said, and when I didn’t immediately
open my eyes he repeated, “Look.”
    A large
oval mirror stood in front of me, and I cringed at my reflection. “What do you
see?” he prompted.
    Flabby
tummy and thighs, big hips, boobs that need a bra to look good. “Me.” I’d always been
my own worst critic.
    I saw his
frown in the mirror, then he tilted his head to study
my reflection. “I see a beautiful face,” he started, running a finger down my
cheek and along the side of my neck. “Soft skin, the right curves.” He leaned
in close to the side of my head and breathed deep. “You smell good enough to
eat,” he added, his words almost a growl.
    My breath
caught, his words making my belly tighten. One large hand covered my breast,
fingers tweaking one nipple, and this time I gasped aloud. His grip on my
shoulder tightened as the hand circling my breast dipped lower, skimming across
my belly and leaving a trail of