I came to New York City to study design and build a life for myself. I was young, naive, and the last thing I was looking for was love.
I needed money for my family and the medical bills that threatened us into poverty. I didn’t have time to worry about my loneliness,
to fill that cold empty spot in my heart…
At first, it seemed like Paul was the answer to all my problems. But after he rescued me from a desperate situation,
I soon discovered Paul had demons of his own.
Paul wasn’t looking for a lover… He wanted a companion, a kept woman. And I was captivated by his charm, lavish gifts, and trips to Paris.
And his touch awakened my desires, passions I had never dreamed of.
But the closer we get, the more I begin to wonder. What happens when our arrangement comes to an end…
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EXCERPT:
I dropped the napkin, and Paul reached down to retrieve it, covering my hand with his on my lap. The sensation of his touch was electric, sending a current up my arm that broke into goosebumps. He smiled at me but smoothly ordered a replacement, which was promptly given to him. I could only stare, gobsmacked by his confidence and command of those around him.
I quietly pointed out a few selections on the menu. Since the most I ever drank was a glass of warm rum over Christmas, I turned down wine. When the time came to order, Paul selected everything I said I liked and asked them to box the extras for carryout.
“Mr. Crane, what are you doing?” I whispered.
“A small gift for joining me for lunch,” he whispered back in an amused tone and then winked at me.
Butterflies exploded in my stomach, and I covered the goofy grin I knew I had on my face. Of course, I had no idea how I’d fit the extra food in my room and the dorm hall fridge. I mentally noted to donate what I couldn’t eat to the other students on my floor.
No one at the table batted an eye at us. To me, we seemed odd together, me in a knit dress I made and tights and him in a polished, pressed business suit.
I had no idea to what I owed my fortune, but I chalked it up as one of the oddities of life in New York City and figured I’d never see most of Paul’s employees again. So, I gave myself permission to eat heartily and clear my plate. Hell, I would have licked my plate of grilled steak and chocolate cake clean, but he glanced my way a few times, assessing me. Our legs brushed, and a tingling sensation went through my body. I clenched my thighs and tried my best not to give anything away. But Paul was perceptive. I believe he knew the effect he had on me.
Author Bio:
Amelie S. Duncan writes steamy, sexy stories. Her inspiration comes from many sources including her life experiences and travels. She lives on the West Coast of the United States with her husband.
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