Queen for a Day (BBW Billionaire Romance) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Christa Wick
didn't understand and I told him so. "I don't have more money to put in...my sixty percent is based--"
I stopped with a growl. This didn't make sense! All the other investors had talked down the value of my contributions if they even made a tentative offer to buy. Parisi's number inflated them!
What was I missing? I looked at him for clues but quickly had to look away. He was too intense, too close. He was no longer touching me, but he hadn't retreated from my personal space. He had one hand placed on the cushion next to my leg and the other on the armrest so that I was caged in.
"Where are you assigning the extra equity?" I asked. The question was the closest I could get without making an accusation that there was something very indecent about his proposal. The phrasing also kept me from embarrassing myself by suggesting the impossible -- he wanted something very personal from me.
"Until you arrived here today," Parisi began. "You've tried to keep you out of the equation -- emails, files, numbers, projections. But this is fashion, Nadine. You're selling yourself as well. You can't play at this level as a designer and not attract public attention. You can't show up in sensible shoes and department store pants. You're going to have to be out front. You shouldn't have arrived at the island in anything other than your own designs."
Couldn't he understand, especially after what I told him about Stump, that I had tried that? I had tried it all the way up to Stump and, after that jerk, I'd gone home, had a pint of Rocky Road and a tub of Cool Whip and minimized the in-person pitches to the other investors. I would have done the same with Parisi but he insisted on my coming to meet him, at his expense.
"Fine," I relented, my body wiggling with the sensation of thousands of ants crawling over my skin because Parisi hadn't retreated to his own personal space. "But this amount..."
His mouth pursed, twisted, a smile playing around the edges as he mulled over the bombshell he was about to drop between us.
"I intend to see if you can live the role you want to sell other women. The three million is the value you've already demonstrated, plus the value you're promising to deliver by stepping up your roll, and then hazard pay for running a gauntlet of tests before I fund anything."
"What -- what role do you think I'm selling?" I didn't like where this was headed, didn't like how close we were. I didn't think it was possible for a woman my age -- any age -- with so much as a whisper of a libido to be mere inches from Parisi in a darkened room, his voice like a panther's purr, and not think about fucking.
"You're going to give yourself over tonight, completely. You're going to open every hole. You're going to sense and feel and experience without analysis."
"Sex?" I asked, my brain shocked but not so shocked I couldn't speak. "That's the role?"
His gaze dropped, the eyelids almost shut. A soft smile pushed the corners of his mouth outward. "Outside of academia, even within it, you cannot separate the great queens from their sexuality. As Akhenaten's Great Royal Wife, Nefertiti was Isis on earth and Isis is Venus, Inanna, Astarte. And Cleopatra, well--"
He shook his head, the soft smile sharpening toward lecherous approval in a way that made all the weight of my body center hard atop the juncture of my thighs.
"No, this ... I won't..." My hands came up, waving away the possibility that what he wanted had the remotest chance of occurring. "I'm not even going to get into whether I want to sleep with you. No one in business would ever take me seriously if I secured funding that way!"
"Your reputation will be safe. No cameras, no gossip."
"Stop!" I ordered, my hands repeating the command as I held them palms forward and ready to push him away if necessary. "I don't care how tight a lid you think you can keep on people like Anders--"
He touched my knees again and then his fingers surfed under the hem of my dress to tie my tongue in
I stopped with a growl. This didn't make sense! All the other investors had talked down the value of my contributions if they even made a tentative offer to buy. Parisi's number inflated them!
What was I missing? I looked at him for clues but quickly had to look away. He was too intense, too close. He was no longer touching me, but he hadn't retreated from my personal space. He had one hand placed on the cushion next to my leg and the other on the armrest so that I was caged in.
"Where are you assigning the extra equity?" I asked. The question was the closest I could get without making an accusation that there was something very indecent about his proposal. The phrasing also kept me from embarrassing myself by suggesting the impossible -- he wanted something very personal from me.
"Until you arrived here today," Parisi began. "You've tried to keep you out of the equation -- emails, files, numbers, projections. But this is fashion, Nadine. You're selling yourself as well. You can't play at this level as a designer and not attract public attention. You can't show up in sensible shoes and department store pants. You're going to have to be out front. You shouldn't have arrived at the island in anything other than your own designs."
Couldn't he understand, especially after what I told him about Stump, that I had tried that? I had tried it all the way up to Stump and, after that jerk, I'd gone home, had a pint of Rocky Road and a tub of Cool Whip and minimized the in-person pitches to the other investors. I would have done the same with Parisi but he insisted on my coming to meet him, at his expense.
"Fine," I relented, my body wiggling with the sensation of thousands of ants crawling over my skin because Parisi hadn't retreated to his own personal space. "But this amount..."
His mouth pursed, twisted, a smile playing around the edges as he mulled over the bombshell he was about to drop between us.
"I intend to see if you can live the role you want to sell other women. The three million is the value you've already demonstrated, plus the value you're promising to deliver by stepping up your roll, and then hazard pay for running a gauntlet of tests before I fund anything."
"What -- what role do you think I'm selling?" I didn't like where this was headed, didn't like how close we were. I didn't think it was possible for a woman my age -- any age -- with so much as a whisper of a libido to be mere inches from Parisi in a darkened room, his voice like a panther's purr, and not think about fucking.
"You're going to give yourself over tonight, completely. You're going to open every hole. You're going to sense and feel and experience without analysis."
"Sex?" I asked, my brain shocked but not so shocked I couldn't speak. "That's the role?"
His gaze dropped, the eyelids almost shut. A soft smile pushed the corners of his mouth outward. "Outside of academia, even within it, you cannot separate the great queens from their sexuality. As Akhenaten's Great Royal Wife, Nefertiti was Isis on earth and Isis is Venus, Inanna, Astarte. And Cleopatra, well--"
He shook his head, the soft smile sharpening toward lecherous approval in a way that made all the weight of my body center hard atop the juncture of my thighs.
"No, this ... I won't..." My hands came up, waving away the possibility that what he wanted had the remotest chance of occurring. "I'm not even going to get into whether I want to sleep with you. No one in business would ever take me seriously if I secured funding that way!"
"Your reputation will be safe. No cameras, no gossip."
"Stop!" I ordered, my hands repeating the command as I held them palms forward and ready to push him away if necessary. "I don't care how tight a lid you think you can keep on people like Anders--"
He touched my knees again and then his fingers surfed under the hem of my dress to tie my tongue in
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