Bound To Protect. Anya Summers
male lips she had ever seen. She could still taste him, like an aged brandy she had sampled long ago.
“Sabrina, Dante tells me you decided to branch out and try the world of exotic dancing at Bayou,” Michael commented, taking a seat on the couch across from her. Dante sat beside him.
Really, they were too handsome for their own good and, paired together like they were, every woman’s darkest fantasy brought to life.
“And your point?” she asked testily. Really, how much shaming was she supposed to endure tonight?
Michael leaned forward in his seat, that indigo gaze boring holes into her, like he was attempting to peel back all her layers and get down to the core of her being. “I need you to be honest with us. Why are you resorting to stripping?”
“What I do in my free time is none of your business. You don’t own me.”
“You need to answer us, love,” Dante said with a frustrated sigh, like he was the one being put out.
“I don’t have to do anything of the sort. You’re the one restraining me against my will, kissing me, and dragging me here. I should file kidnapping charges against you,” she snapped. She wanted to bash both their heads in, and she wasn’t normally the violent type.
“You kissed her?” Michael asked Dante, his gaze dipping to her mouth. “I can see why. She is rather delectable. If she agrees, she will need to get used to it, just not from you. At least, not out in public or at the club, anyhow.”
“There will be no kissing. There will be no anything. I promise not to press charges if you just let me go,” she pleaded. She wanted to go home and sob out her sorrows, while she still had a home to go to.
“We’ll see about that. Answer the question, or you will find yourself cleaning for someone else,” Michael demanded.
“You’re going to fire me?” Fear struck her in lacerating waves. Without this job, she’d be sunk—more than she already was. They would be destitute.
Michael sighed. “I can’t have a dishonest individual working for me. Answer the question.”
“Remove the cuffs first and I will.” She lifted her bound hands as high as she could and pressed her lips together to hide their trembling.
Michael and Dante glanced at one another, having a silent conversation she wasn’t privy to. Michael nodded. Dante rose, walked around the coffee table, and sat beside her. He took her hands in his much larger ones. Goosebumps shivered along her spine at the simple touch—far simpler than what had occurred at his car.
It had been a long time since she had been kissed by anyone; not since she was a teenager, before the weight of the world fell on her shoulders. And never before had she been kissed in that toe-curling manner that left her blind and aching to all but him. She’d not expected it, which had made its impact that much more startling. Dante had surprised her with the kiss. Then again, the entire night had taken on a dreamlike quality.
And the strangest thing of all was, she wanted him to kiss her again. It was the most carnal kiss she had ever received; it had turned her inside out, and left her drowning in a sea of desire more potent than anything she tasted.
His scent surrounded her. And for a second, she wanted to lean on his broad shoulders, let him shoulder the burdens she carried. She was just so tired from working herself ragged; stressed out, and depleted in every way that mattered.
She rubbed her wrists once the shackles were removed. It wasn’t that they’d hurt, but they had put her at a huge disadvantage with the two alphas. And right now, she needed all the help and appearance of confidence she could muster.
“They’re off, but you’re not leaving. Explain,” Dante ordered.
She had made an agreement, and she always honored her word. “I resorted to stripping because I need the money, okay?”
“Why?” Michael asked her, his gaze narrowed.
“I have a lot of bills,” she explained. She didn’t owe them an explanation of what those bills were, or why she was in debt over her head.
“Love, we need a bit more than that.” Dante attempted to draw it out of her with a smile.
“For what, drugs? Gambling debts? You need to be more specific,” Michael ordered.
Sabrina hated admitting her problems because in her experience, it gave others an opening to tell you what you were doing wrong. She debated what to tell them, and how much.
“Sabrina,” Dante murmured with an edge of steel.
Defeated from the night, from her life of nothing but sucker punches, she conceded. “My brother’s sick. He needs round the clock care, and the cost of his medications whittled away everything our parents left us. I’ve tried keeping up with all the bills but haven’t been able to manage his medical expenses and the cost of living with what I make. And there’s no one else, no family left whom I can count on or we could move in with to defray some of the burden.”
The hard-edged glint in Michael’s gaze softened. “Why didn’t you tell us? Come to me with this before? I would have helped you out.”
“I won’t take handouts. I earn my keep.” She straightened her spine. She might not have much, but she had her pride. She hated being seen as someone lacking, felt that it was a reflection on her and her abilities.
“Easy, love, Michael just meant we would have given you a raise, that’s all,” Dante explained gently.
“What does it matter? I failed tonight, and because of that, my brother will pay the price. We’re being evicted because I’m behind with the rent and frankly, tonight was my last hope for making the money needed to keep a roof over our heads. I don’t know what to do anymore.” She valiantly fought back tears. If she allowed even one to fall, it would open the floodgate and she would be useless to everybody. She didn’t have time to be weak.
“Remember how I told you I was going to be your fairy godmother?” Dante murmured.
“Yes,” she said, looking between the two alpha males. What did they want from her?
Michael cocked his head. “That’s where we come in. I have a proposition for you. I need you to pose as my fiancée to appease the board members of one of my companies. I will need you to act in that capacity, appearing with me at functions for thirty days, and continuing to play the role for ninety days—but during the last two months, you won’t be required to appear at functions with me. If you agree, I will pay you: the first half at the end of the thirty days, and then the final half at the end of ninety.”
What? Pretend to be his fiancée? The man was like a gazillionaire. This couldn’t be real. “How much?” she asked, wondering what a man like him would consider equitable.
“Ten million ought to cover it,” Michael said blandly, like most people would say ten bucks—as if it were nothing.
Ten million dollars? Sabrina couldn’t even imagine what having money like that would be like. The thought of what she could do with that much… She could put Alex into the specialized living facility that catered to patients with severe psychological disorders—a nice one, so he would have the round the clock care he so desperately needed. She could take a vacation, a real one, where she didn’t have to clean for anyone else or take care of someone else.
The guilt was swift and almost choked her. His condition wasn’t Alex’s fault.
“What are the parameters?” she asked Michael.
He settled back in his seat, the light of victory flashing in his gaze. “Public PDA. The story will be that we’ve been together for a year, and have just decided to go public now that we are engaged. I will pay for a wardrobe for you, and all the accessories.”
“Sex?” she asked.
His thick golden brows rose. “It’s not a requirement.” His