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Dad simply gazed at our unwanted guest like he alone could save him. Then he nodded. “I agree.”

“And what are you agreeing to?” Dupont’s voice was quiet and calm, soothing as it wrapped around my thoughts, beguiling me with the idea everything could be fixed.

I didn’t damn well care what Dad was agreeing to—he just needed to do it quickly so I could go and start my day’s work at the bar. In fact, I was thinking so hard about all the things I needed to do I almost didn’t listen as Dad began to speak. Until I heard my name.

“My daughter, Leia. You can have her as stated in the sub-clause of the contract.”

I shot to my feet, heart racing. “What now? No. I’m no one’s collateral.”

But Dupont merely chuckled, never breaking his eye-contact with Dad. “I’ve accepted stranger things to secure freedom from accumulated debt.”

“Dad.” His name left my lips as a plea.

He didn’t reply.

“Dad!” I tried again, more emphatic this time. “Dad, what have you done?”

He shrugged, his eyes darting to meet mine briefly. “I was drunk. Desperate. I don’t remember. But this could fix everything. You have the power to fix everything, Leia.”

I took a deep breath in, aiming for some sort of meditative calm, but I misjudged and filled myself with pure rage instead. “You stupid pair of bastards. No one calls in a woman to settle gambling debt. What about the law? What about sex-trafficking?”

“Oh? Will there be sex?” Dupont’s voice was smooth and warm, and I trembled with anger.

“Never. This is about fifty shades of illegal, and you know it. Dad, you can’t do this.” I wanted to save everything, but not at the expense of me. “We’ve got to try another way. There must be something.”

Dad breathed deeply and seemed in control of himself for the first time all morning as he finally met my gaze properly. “No, there isn’t, Leia. I’m sorry, but I won’t go back on a contract I signed. This might not be the outcome I expected, but it is what it is.”

“It is what it is?” I fought to keep my voice under control. “That’s all you have to say?”

Nicolas shrugged and answered on Dad’s behalf. “It’s unfortunate, but it’s not for very long. You’ll be able to return home soon.”

That was the first positive thing I’d heard him say, but I wasn’t about to let him know that. “Oh really? And am I supposed to be grateful?”

Dupont spoke again. “Your father set a stipulation on your availability when he added you to the contract. A one-month term.” He shrugged a second time. “It should be sufficient.”

When he glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes gleamed.

“For what?” I ran my hand over the ornate tapestry arm of the antique sofa. The threads were loose with wear and age, tugging free of their complex woven pattern. I steeled myself for the conversation the three of us were clearly about to have. “Just for the record, I agree to none of this.”

Dupont reached toward me and I shifted away. His eyes narrowed, his gaze growing colder. “Miss Boucher.”

I nodded at the formality. Good. That was the kind of distance I could get used to. I was over the whole business of his tongue in my mouth. I waved my hand briefly like I could flick away my unwanted thoughts. “I’m listening.”

But I was only listening because nothing meant more to me than Mom’s family home and the business she’d worked so hard to maintain. I couldn’t lose either. For those two things, I would have crawled to Nicolas Dupont’s side over broken glass. I couldn’t let her memory down. I refused to be the Boucher that ruined it all.

He nodded and kept his gaze trained on me as I shifted uncomfortably under those gray eyes that seemed to flash almost silver at times or darken with the threat of a storm. “I seek a business arrangement.”

I nodded but said nothing. I wasn’t about to put any words into his mouth.

“I have no need of anything…” His gaze skimmed me as he paused, his pupils dilating so briefly I might have imagined it. “Physical.”

I crossed my arms, actively shielding myself from any more lingering gazes.

“I simply need a companion to accompany me to some forthcoming events with my family and my business associates.”

“Arm candy?” I hadn’t meant to interrupt, but surely I could be no one’s first choice for that? My hair was always wash and wear, my clothes were thrift shop finds, and I wore the scent of beer and the sweat of hard work like other women wore perfume.

His lip curled a little. “Arm candy isn’t a label I’d use. But this is certainly a business arrangement you’d be quite stupid to refuse. A mere one month of your time to retain everything your father has gambled away to me?”