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"I just want to get this straight, Mr. Ivanovich," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "What you're really saying is that if I agree, pardon me if I'm wrong or mistaken, and if I am, I apologize profusely, but are you trying to say that if I get involved with you, you will buy the house?"
I wait for his response with bated breath.
I don't think I have ever waited for anything this intensely or nervously before, except maybe when I was checking my emails repeatedly for my SATs and college entrance acceptance letters. I was convinced my entire life hung on those results, and it feelsthe same way now, as though my entire life henceforth hangs on whatever his answer will be.
"Yes, Miss Fitzpatrick," he replies sardonically.
The shock is unbelievable. Can he really be serious? Heat rushes through my whole body and then I am suddenly afraid because I have to suspect then that he is insane. Who spends that kind of money because he fancies a girl? Maybe this is what all billionaires do.
"You're willing to spend one hundred and twenty million on a house based on a whim?" I croak in disbelief.
He takes a step closer and I start to tremble like a leaf in a storm. I think of Leda. Her puny pale fingers pushing helplessly against the glory of the swan and its great wings. I can’t help it. My eyes swivel towards the painting and he laughs darkly.
"I’ll let you in on a secret, my Spartan Queen. To a very rich man money is meaningless. If everything has a price and money is worthless, it means everything is essentially free."
I stare at him, speechless. How did I come to be here? This is not my world. In my world money is in short supply. All the people I know scrounge around every day just to pay the bills and put food on the table. But this man is turning my world to ashes. He is willing to spend the GDP of a small country to sleep with me of all people. Why me? I am not glamorous, sophisticated, or insanely beautiful like Sasha. He reaches a hand out and rubs his thumb along my lower lip. The skin of his thumb is soft. He has never done a day’s hard work in his life. Something I have never felt stirs deep in my belly. It is like a clawed hand. Moving, gasping, strong. Its strength astonishes me. It starts a fire inside me that no one else has ever ignited.
I want him!
With every fiber in my body. I want my body to entangle with his. I want him inside me. The world outside ceases to exist. I forget that Sasha is waiting on the beach. I forget that whatis happening should be classed as crazy. All I know is the rush inside me and the emptiness in my body that only he can fill. My mouth opens and seeks his.
I don’t know what would have happened if a lone seagull flying close by the floor-to-ceiling windows had not made its high-pitched cry. The shrill screech jolts me out of my hypnotized daze and I jump back with a shriek. My hand slaps over my horrified mouth.
"I'm sorry," I mumble, but I don't know what I am apologizing for.
"Sorry? Don’t be. I want you and I'm willing to pay a hefty price for you."
His words are like a bucket of cold water over my head. The strange desire for him disappears and I feel only fury. How dare he? Who does he think he is? I have never in my life met someone so presumptuous and arrogant. He is beautiful and rich on the outside, but his soul is so ugly and poor. I’m not for sale.
"No offence, Mr. Ivanovich, but I’m not attracted to you," I say coldly.
Chapter Ten
IVAN
Good. She is offended, but I want to offend her more. I want to push all her buttons and see what comes forth.
“Why are all estate agents such liars?” I goad softly.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she growls, throwing her head back proudly. Her eyes flash and she transforms from the meek little assistant, falling over, and babbling nonsense to a splendid tigress. If I thought her beautiful before, now I think of her as absolutely riveting. I can’t take my eyes off her. In fact, for the first time in my life, I can barely hold myself back. I’m losing control.
My hand curves around her waist. She catches my wrist and tries to push me away, but it is impossible to budge me unless I want to be moved. She realizes how futile it is to struggle and stops.
“Poor Leda,” I murmur.
“How dare you?” she spits furiously.
“Don’t you want a taste of what you are rejecting, Lara?” I ask.
Her mouth opens in shock. “No. Let me make myself crystal clear. I wouldn’t sell myself to you if you were the last man on earth.”
I laugh. “Very original, but purely out of interest, what is your price, Lara?”
She flushes. “I don’t have a price.”
“Every woman has a price. Anything from the price of a few drinks all the way to a ring on her finger. I expect you have a very high sense of propriety. And this is why I am prepared to spend such a hefty sum to ensure that you know I am not propositioning you because I think you're cheap. On the contrary, I understand your value, and I want to indulge in it”
“I don’t have a price,” she says frostily. “Are you planning to force me?”