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“Not as well as I will soon, I grant, but?—”
“Look, Romeo,” I interrupt. “You’re barking up the wrong tree. Pick up any other girl at the club—or on the street. I’m sure they’ll be happy to…help with your little problem.”
I can’t help lowering my gaze to his crotch.
“That’s hardlylittle,” Callum replies. “And as it so happens, no other girl will do for this specific issue.”
“And I’m still not interested.” I shrug. “I’ve never even had sex, and I won’t start by selling it.”
He pauses, tilting his head. “Even better.”
I groan, feeling like a parrot as I repeat, “I’m not int?—”
“A hundred thousand euros for one night.”
Now I stop.
And then I turn, slowly.
“You’re actually insane.”
Callum scoffs. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“No. I—no. I’m not fucking you for money. Sorry.”
Anyone willing to spend that much on something others would give for free is bad news. He doesn’t want sex; he wants to tear me apart, and probably leave me dead in the morning so he doesn’t need to pay up.
Callum Noble is majorly bad news. I’m going to google him as soon as I go up; I bet I find a trail of disappearances of pretty girls he meets, and equally troubling things.
“Who said you’d be fucking me?” he asks, shocking meagain.
What?
CHAPTER 3
liv
I told him in no uncertain terms I wasn’t interested in his proposition, so I thought he’d move on, but when I’m back on the stage on Tuesday, my stranger is in the room.
Except he’s no longer a stranger at all; I have his name. I know it’s his real name, courtesy of google. Callum Noble, twenty-four, lawyer—I called it—only child and sole heir to the earl Albert Noble, and prince of the realm. I definitely didn’t call those last bits.
And he’s certainly not my anything.
I ignore him as I dance, pretending I haven’t spent the last two days mentally tallying how I’d spend his money. One hundred thousand euros for a shag. How ludicrous. Part of me is insanely curious about the details of the deal. If not him, who was it that I was supposed to screw? Why wouldn’t any other girl work? It’s all awfully mysterious. But curiosity killed the cat, and I plan on having a long life, so I’m not going to indulge myself by asking Callum any questions. I’m just not.
Even if the card he handed me includes what looks like a mobile phone number. It can’t possibly be his. Men like Callum Noble don’t hand out their private numbers to random chicks they want to buy for a night. I bet it’s a secretary’s.
I finish my last routine for the night and get changed in the back. It’s crazy hot in July, even at this time, so I’m only wearing shorts and a T-shirt, with a baseball cap to hide my face. I stuff my hair in it, before making my way to the underground parking lot underneath the club.
One of the reasons I feel relatively safe at my job is the fact that the building has a basement entrance reserved for the staff. We’re on the ground floor of a skyscraper, with a casino on top of us, and a hotel above that. Patrons can access the basement levels 2 and 3, but the first is exclusive to those who work here. I don’t need to go out on the street at the end of my shift, so creeps can’t follow me.
That’s excluding wealthy, entitled, gorgeous creeps in custom suits.
I wonder how he found me? Once he got my name, working out that I go to the park at least once a week can’t have been hard, but how did he get it in the first place? My guess is he bribed my boss, or hacked the employee records.
It should disturb me more than it does, and it would, if he were any other of my patrons. But I guess that coming from a freakingNoble, I’m not surprised. If he wants to find out who someone is, there’s no reason why he can’t.
Ugh. I sigh, frustrated with myself as I straddle my dingy little Vespa. It breaks down at least twice a month, but it gets me from A to B without having to walk at three in the morning.
