Page 17 of His Dark Pact
A distant part of her suggested she should excuse herself and order her taxi home. She’d embarrassed herself enough at Worthington’s for one lifetime. Better that she bailed before she discovered he was only there for a bet or something even crueler, but sitting beside him on the leather seat, she knew there was no way she could leave.
Kyle had a presence that was absent in the vast majority of men. His aura was commanding, even when he didn’t say a word. It was as though there was no choice but to stop and listen to him, no choice but to consider what he said.
“It’s an encompassing role.” He leaned back in his place, watching her carefully. “Based at my home.”
“At your home?” Her heart hammered at the idea. What could Kyle need at home that he hadn’t already paid for?
What could heneedfrom me?
“Yes,” he confirmed. “A housekeeper of sorts. I need someone organized, who can follow instructions.”
“A housekeeper?” She seemed only able to parrot his words back to him. “But I’m a legal secretary.” It was an uninspiring role that had left her underpaid and underwhelmed for years and a half-lie. She had endured the position, but since Graham’s passing, she’d been forced to take a second job as a cleaner. “I don’t know anything about running a house.” It had been years since she’d even had a proper one of her own to look after, and when her boys had been small, she’d barely ‘managed’ anything.
“There’s nothing to it.” He shrugged. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need for the role. Plus, it’s a live-in arrangement, which means if you were serious about not making the rent this month, then you won’t need to worry. You can move in straight away.”
“Livein?” She pulled in a shaky breath, trying to imagine what sort of mansion Kyle owned. Maybe it was the remnants of the champagne, but Kyle’s offer seemed too good to be true.
“Yes. My house is large, and there’s plenty of space.”
She stared at him, trying to envision herself in a domestic role like the one he described. It was true, the legal work didn’t enthrall her, but could she really resign the role—everything she’d known for decades—on a whim?
“How much?” In the end, whether she liked it or not, it all came down to money—that same miserable currency that dominated her every waking moment. It didn’t matter if it was crazy to consider a job from a man she’d only met twice or if she considered the work demeaning. Ultimately, the choice boiled down to cash. “How much could you pay me?”
“How much do you need?” His eyebrow arched, daring her to aim big.
“I mean...” She hesitated, unsure if she could truly be honest about the extent of her debt. “I owe a lot of people a lot of money.” Her throat tightened as she admitted it aloud, the suffocating shame threatening to strangle her. “It’s cheerless, I’m afraid.”
“Definea lot.” He leaned closer, his sudden proximity spiking her heart rate. “You never said how much you owed.”
“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbled.
Her attention lowered along the length of his body, her gaze lingering on his groin before it crawled along his long legs.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed.” His hand rose to grip her chin lightly, insisting her attention was back on him. “I want to help, remember?”
“In total, it’s probably somewhere around four hundred thousand.” She tensed at the figure, although his grasp refused to let her look away.
How have I allowed myself to get into this much trouble?
Anxiety twisted at her insides. Staring into his gaze, she struggled to remember.
“How much do you need immediately?” He hadn’t flinched at her answer, suggesting the kind of money she’d mentioned was no big deal to a man like him.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, wishing she could knock his hand away, yet too afraid to do anything to upset him.
She didn’t especially want to look after anyone’s house, but the idea of enough money to get out of debt and on her feet was too tempting not to hear out. She had to know the full extent of his offer.
“Maybe fifty thousand?”
“Make that fifty thousand,sir.” His thumb stroked her chin as her gaze rose to meet his. “If you’re going to be working for me, then I’ll expect you to talk to me with respect.”
What?The word echoed around her head.
“Fifty thousand, sir.”
She shifted on her seat, conscious of the way her nipples beaded beneath her dress. There was something ridiculously hot about ceding to him that way, and while she had no great desire to use the title, she’d consider calling him President of the Universe if it meant all her bills were paid and a future of financial freedom beckoned.
“Thank you, Amy.” He released her chin, his hand falling to his thigh. “I propose a trial. One week where you work for me, and in exchange, I’ll pay you the fifty thousand.”