Intimidating Invitation

LAUREN

~Thump.~

~Thump.~

“Ms. Hart,” he acknowledged, “You’re late.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked back inside, leaving me standing at the door, my heart pounding in my chest.

I followed him into the living room. It was a luxurious space with a breathtaking view from the balcony windows.

The room was chilly, but I felt hot and sweaty all over.

“Sit down.”

I sat, perching on a sofa while Mr. Campbell sprawled out comfortably in another chair.

His legs crossed, his intimidating gaze, and the slow drumming of his fingers on his thigh made my stomach churn.

I wasn’t sure what I had expected when I came here.

It was three in the morning!

Normally, if my boss tried calling me at this hour, I’d ignore it, no matter what he wanted.

But my boss was Mason Campbell.

And you don’t say no to Mason Campbell. Not if you want to live a long and happy life.

I studied his face, hoping to find some clue as to why he summoned me here.

His red, glazed eyes and subdued expression made it clear he’d had a few drinks.

I waited for him to say something, but after a few moments of silence, he got up and walked toward a mini bar in the room.

I watched his broad, powerful back, acutely aware that I was alone in a hotel room with the most powerful man in England.

“Do you drink, Ms. Hart?”

He poured himself a drink from a crystal tumbler.

“No,” I said, my mouth dry. I could have used a drink, but I had a feeling this was some kind of test. And if I failed, I might never see daylight again.

Despite my answer, he poured me one anyway.

He brought it over and slammed it down on the table in front of me.

Then, instead of returning to his chair, he sat down next to me on the couch.

I held my glass, staring into it. But I could feel his silver eyes boring into me. He held his glass, but he didn’t drink.

“Why do you think I hired you, Ms. Hart?”

I tried to think of a reason. It wasn’t because I was qualified for the job. And I wasn’t a supermodel like everyone else at the company.

~Why did this man, who could have anyone he wanted, hire me?~

His cold gaze made my mind race.

~How can he sit there so calm while I’m falling apart?~

“I…I don’t know, sir.” I didn’t want to make up an answer.

Mason Campbell would see right through me.

But honesty didn’t seem to help me either.

He was used to being on top. He was so powerful that no one dared to cross him. That meant he was used to having smart and intelligent people around him.

I wasn’t sure if Mason hated liars or fools more.

“Why did you hire me, sir?”

He put his untouched drink to the side and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

I tried to ignore the bulge of his biceps straining against his shirt.

I tried not to look at his unbuttoned shirt, giving me a glimpse of his muscular chest.

“I’m asking the questions tonight,” he said sternly.

I took a sip and swallowed hard, choking on the bitter alcohol.

“Do you have a husband, Ms. Hart?” he asked.

~Why does he want to know that?~

“Answer me,” he pressed. “I don’t have all night.”

“No,” I said, “I’m not married.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.

My heart pounded faster.

“No,” I said again.

“How about a lover?” he asked.

“Mr. Campbell. This is…this is getting very personal,” I stammered.

“Yes or no,” he said, leaning closer until I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“No,” I finally said, my voice trembling.

“Very good,” he said.

~Very good?!~

~Why the hell does he care?~

“So I can assume that you are fully committed to your work,” he continued.

“You’ve made sure of that,” I shot back.

“Well, you’re about to get a lot more committed,” he said.

“What does that mean?”

He stood suddenly, and as he walked away from me, I was finally able to breathe for the first time since I arrived.

“I have a proposition for you, Ms. Hart,” he said, ignoring my question. “One you cannot refuse.”

My mind screamed at me to leave. Alarm bells rang in my head.

When Mason Campbell wanted to make a deal, you could be sure that he would take everything from you and leave you with nothing.

And all you could do was smile and say thank you if you wanted to see another day.

“W-what kind of proposition?”

His frown deepened, and his eyes smoldered.

I had to remind myself to breathe.

“Marry me,” he said.