Two evenings later Sarah waited in the interview room. Ethan had gone to get the next candidate. She'd interviewed one yesterday. It hadn't gone well. He'd seemed interested, but the way he'd looked at her had sent a shiver down her spine and not in a good way. So, she'd crossed him from her list and the rude man from the Viewing had dropped out. That left her with three. She glanced at the door. They should've been here by now. She hoped another candidate hadn't dropped out.

Her lingerie photos had garnered considerable interest, but more than half had declined the next stage of the process because of her demands. These men were used to either getting their way with women or having women dominate them. Most weren't ready for a little of both. After she'd given Ethan her list of seven, he'd suggested she lower her standards, but she'd refused. She wanted a man she was attracted to and one who'd agree to her rules. Most on the original list of twenty-two fell short in either the appearance department or their portfolios had requirements in them that she wouldn't do.

The door opened and Ethan entered followed by another man. She'd seen his picture of course, but there was something smooth, sensual and dangerous about him. He almost glided into the room, confident and pure male.

"Sarah, this is Nicholas." Ethan placed a cell phone on the table between them. They were to call when they were done or if they needed anything. "I'll leave you to your discussion."

As long as he didn't drool or give her the creeps, this man would do. He'd do very nicely. He had dark hair and a slight tint to his skin, like he was of Italian or perhaps Greek descent. His eyes were so brown they were almost black and framed by a strong brow and thick, dark lashes she'd kill for. His body was lean and muscular, his arms well defined. He wore jeans and a polo. She'd expected a suit like the other man had worn. Clothes that'd accentuate his wealth and power. Her eyes skimmed down his legs as he sat.

"Is Sarah your real name," he asked.

"Yes. Is Nicholas yours?" This was the man with the voice; the one that'd sent tingles through her with his words.

"Yeah, but my friends call me Nick."

"Am I your friend?" Things were looking up. Maybe, she'd be successful after all. He was attractive, smelled nice and his voice made her body hum.

"That's what we're here to find out, isn't it?" His dark eyes seemed to caress her as they trailed from her face to her breasts.

Her nipples tightened as if it were his fingers, not his eyes touching them. Luckily, she'd worn the padded, push up bra. It wouldn't do to let him know he affected her so easily.

"A drink?" He stood and walked to the bar.

She shouldn't. She needed to keep her mind sharp. This was where they'd negotiate her demands and his to see if they'd come to an agreement, but she found herself saying, "Yes, thank you."

"Red or white?" He pointed to the wine.

"Crown Royale on the rocks."

His lips quirked upward as his eyes gleamed with surprise. He turned and poured her a healthy drink. He filled another glass with Glenlivet scotch straight and came back to the table.

"Thank you." She accepted the glass, her fingers brushing against his for a moment and a tingle ran straight to her belly and lower. As far as attraction went, he'd do very, very nicely.

He sat down across from her, leaning back in his chair. She took a sip, letting the liquor relax her. She hadn't been nervous with the other candidate because there'd been nothing for her to lose. She hadn't found him attractive, but this man...this man she wanted.

"Shall we start," he said.

"Of course. Sorry." She slid two contracts across the table. "I've already marked the options on your list that...won't work for me."

A thinning of his sensual lips was the only sign he was unhappy. She wanted to kiss him, remove his unhappiness. She took another drink. Perhaps, he wouldn't do after all. She didn't want to be too attracted to the man or she'd fall for him and she had no intention of doing that. One broken heart in a lifetime was enough.

"Let's see what you find so"—his eyes roamed over her again, making her skin tingle—"distasteful that it isn't even worth a discussion."

"Don't get angry. There aren't many things that...that I won't agree to try."

He flipped through the pages, stopping on his list of desires. His finger tapped the paper. "A threesome can be quite enjoyable."

"No. Only you and me for eight weeks." She didn't want two men or another woman. She wanted one man and her fantasies.

"Eight weeks is too long." He flipped through her contract, stopping on the page where she'd set the time limit and glancing up at her. "I'll grow tired of you before then."

Her back stiffened. That was rude, but this part was all about honesty. "How many weeks then? I'm flexible."

"I certainly hope so." He grinned.

That smile with the hidden meaning made more wetness pool between her legs. Too much time with this man would be dangerous. She didn't want to forget that this wasn't real. It was only a fantasy they'd create together.

"May I see you naked before I agree to a time limit?"

"You heard my rules the other night. I'll only undress for the one I choose."

His eyes hardened a bit. "And you haven't chosen me yet."

"Exactly." She still had the polite man and another one to interview.

"Come here." He shifted his chair so it was facing away from the table.

"Why?" She wanted to obey, but she forced herself to remain seated.

"I'd like a better look at what you showed the other night. A closer look."

The throbbing between her legs made her shift on her seat. If she got too close and he touched her, she'd let him do anything. She wanted him that badly. She stood. "No touching."

He frowned but nodded.

She walked over to him, her hands shaking a little.

"Turn around."

She did as he commanded.

"Raise your skirt."

Her hands trembled as she gathered the cloth between her fists, slowly raising it to right below her butt.

"Higher, please." His voice was a whisper of desire that twisted in her stomach and settled between her thighs.

"That's as high as I went the other night." She wanted to raise her skirt all the way and sit on his lap, take him inside of her, but this wasn't the time. They still had a contract to go over.

"May I touch you." He'd leaned forward, his breath a heated caress at the small of her back. "Just where your skin is bare."

She shouldn't, but she nodded. She could swear she heard the smile in his exhale as his hand, rough and warm ran up her outer thigh and then down before sliding around to the back. His fingers trailed upward, this time on her inner thigh. It was a slow caress and she wanted to spread her legs to give him better access, but he stopped right at her skirt. Her heart pounded, wanting him to continue and his breathing was warm and ragged on her legs.

"Turn around."

His voice was barely a whisper but it may as well have been a command because there was no way she could disobey. When she turned, his face would be right where she wanted it.

She moved slowly, his hands keeping contact with her flesh. Her legs were trembling as she stood before him. He inhaled deeply. He had to know how aroused she was. He lifted his head, his eyes black with desire.

"Raise your skirt. You did the other night. Right before you dropped it."

Her heart was going to explode out of her chest. Sex wasn't part of this stage, she kept reminding herself but her hands moved upward. When her skirt was around her waist she stopped, glad she'd worn a sexy pair of panties. His eyes feasted on her mound as if he could see through the turquoise satin. His fingers moved upward on her thigh. He was so close to where she wanted him, so close to where she needed his touch, but this wasn't the time. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stepped back, dropping her skirt.

"I didn't say you could do that."

That was it. That was the reason they couldn't do this now. There was no contract and a man like him expected obedience that she wouldn't always give. "It's what I did the other night and it's all you get." She started toward her chair but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Your bra. I get to see that up close too."

She thought about refusing him, but the muscle twitching in his cheek told her he was on the edge and she was a little frightened and aroused by what would happen if she pushed him over. It might cause him to grab her and touch her and she wouldn't stop him. Then, he'd be her partner for the next several weeks and she'd obey every order he gave, or he might get mad and leave and she didn't want that.

She turned toward him and unbuttoned the first button on her blouse. His eyes raked in the exposed skin. She unhooked another and another until she could slip the cloth off her shoulder. He stared at her matching turquoise bra but it hid more than it exposed, except the top of her breasts. Those were for him to feast his eyes upon and he did. She glanced at the bulge in his pants. It was firm and long and her panties became uncomfortably wet.

"That's enough." She stepped back, starting to button her shirt.

"Leave it."

"We still have a lot to talk about."

"Please." His gaze met hers but even though the word was a request, his eyes demanded she obey.

She shrugged and moved back to her seat. Having him focus on her breasts might give her an edge in the negotiations. She sat, clearing her throat and straightening her contracts. "Do you want to go over the rest of what I won't agree to, or are you good?"

His lips quirked upward in a half smile. "Oh, I'm very good but"—he tapped the page without looking at it—"we need to agree on how long this contract will last or the rest doesn't matter. My limit is usually a month, but I think you'll be fun for a little longer. I'll agree to just the two of us and to five weeks but not eight."

Five weeks was better than his usual month, but it wasn't eight. That left her going back to her lonely bed three weeks sooner. "I'll take that into consideration when I make my choice."

"This is a negotiation. You're not supposed to hold what we agree upon against me."

"Really? That's exactly what this stage is for. Yes, it's a negotiation but I'm going to choose the man who is the perfect fit."

"Come here and I'll prove that I fit perfectly." His eyes gleamed.

"That's not what I meant." She wanted to do exactly that. Instead, she shifted on her seat putting pressure on her pussy. It was a poor substitute for his touch but it was the best she had.

"Perhaps, but keep it in mind." He flipped through the rest of the document. "The other dismissals are fine, but not this one."

"Which one?" She leaned forward to see where he was pointing. This was going better than she'd expected. Of course, there hadn't been much that she'd taken off the table. Most of the items she'd said she'd be willing to try once. She could give him this one as a gift.

"I'm not using a condom."

"Oh," her mouth dropped open. She hadn't even considered that it'd be a problem. "You have to."

"I'm clean and so are you. Ask Ethan. We're all tested."

"Yes, I know, but—"

"You're on birth control. So, what's the problem?"

It was true. Just one more perk from the La Petite Morte Club. The women were implanted with a device so pregnancy was highly unlikely. "They don't always work."

"They work. We'll be fine."

"No. Really. I did my research. No birth control is one hundred percent effective." She knew that for a fact.

"Neither are condoms."

"No, but the two together are closer." She wasn't going to budge on this.

"But not one hundred percent."

"Well, no, but..."

"Do you want me to fuck you through your underwear?"

"What? No. Is that even possible?"

"Fuck no, it's not possible but that's what a condom feels like."

"You have to use a condom." This was spiraling out of control. She really wanted this guy but she couldn't, wouldn't give on this point.

"I'll pay if you get pregnant." He jotted something on the paper. "Ethan will add it to our contract."

"Pay? For what? An abortion? Child support for the next twenty years?"

"Whatever you want?"

The arrogance of the man made her want to slap him. "And how much is a father worth to a child? How about my life that'd be turned upside down by raising your child alone?"

"You'd keep the baby?" His eyes raked over her face, studying her.

"Yes. No. I don't know." She leaned forward, forgetting about her unbuttoned shirt until his gaze settled on her breasts. She sat up, buttoning her shirt.

"Leave it. You agreed."

"That was before you started being an ass." She continued buttoning.

His lips narrowed but there was something in his eyes—amusement, respect, something besides desire. "Okay. I'll wear a condom, but you have to agree to discuss it during our time together." He leaned forward his eyes dropping to her breasts again. "One time may be worth the risk."

"Sure, when you're only risking money."

"Have you ever had a man come inside you?"

The ache between her legs started to throb again. She'd always used condoms. Everyone did, or at least she'd thought so.

"His release hot and wet shooting into you, filling you even more." He studied her. "It's an experience you shouldn't miss."

"I won't. I'm sure I'll marry one day."

"I'm surprised you're not married already." He studied her. "You're what, twenty-seven?"

She nodded. That information was all in the package.

"Why haven't you married?"

"That's none of your business."

He tipped his head in acknowledgment. Personal matters were confidential. They weren't to know each other's last name, job, address, nothing. It was one of the rules of the club. They could only get that information if they both sent a request to Ethan four months after their contract was over. Otherwise, it'd stay sealed.

"So, you agree we can discuss the use of condoms during our evenings together."

"Yes." She jotted a note by that condition on her paper also. "However, I want you to know I won't change my mind."

"Challenge accepted." He grinned, as he tossed back his scotch. He tapped her glass as he stood. "Drink up."

She shouldn't but she did. She took two more swallows and handed him the empty glass. He made them both another drink and returned to the table.

He took a small sip and opened her contract. "Now, on to your demands." He glanced up at her, a smile in his eyes. "I'm sure I'll be happy to give you whatever you want and some things you don't even know you want."

"I know what I want."

He grinned in a way that clearly said she was clueless. She took another drink to keep from slapping that smirk off his face.

"Give me a minute to look this over." He studied the paper.

She took another drink as the liquor made a slow, warm path to her stomach. She watched him, wanting to go to him. He'd be willing. She could run her fingers through his thick, black hair as he lifted her skirt, his hands trailing up her thighs as he'd done before, exposing her to his eyes and his touch and his mouth with those lovely lips that promised pleasure.