Free Ultimatum by Gemma James Page B

 
    “I have my sources.” He leaned forward with a smirk. “I have vested interest in you, Kayla—ten thousand dollars worth. You’re desperate, and I know you’ll give me what I want because even though I’m giving you a choice, your love for your daughter won’t.”
    “There’s a hole in your logic. Even with the ten grand, I’m still short.”
    “You underestimate me. I’ll pay for her medical bills in full. She’ll be taken care of.”
    The bastard had me, and he knew it. “What will you do to me?”  
    “It’s all there in the contract . . . but to put it succinctly—” he leaned forward with a glimmer of excitement in the depths of his eyes “—whatever I damn please.”
    I forced my attention onto the papers. Certain words and phrases popped out: Flogging. Bondage. Nipple torture. Anal play. I stared at him, slack-jawed. “You’d hurt me like this?”
    “Yes,” he lowered his voice, and something about his deep timbre shot through me, “but there’s a flimsy line between pain and pleasure.”
    “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
    “Decide now. I’m growing impatient.”
    “Please, Gage. Don’t make me do this. Please, I’ll—“
    “You’ll save your begging for later, preferably while on your knees.” He held out a pen. “But either way, decide.”
    I glared at him. “Do I have a choice?”
    “Of course, just as you have the option of backing out of our agreement whenever you wish.” He tapped the pen against the desktop. “That’s the beauty of this. The choice is yours.”
    “But if I don’t agree, you’ll turn me in and Eve won’t get her treatment.”
    “Correct.”
    “That doesn’t sound like much of a choice. That sounds like coercion.”  
    “I want you, and I’m willing to cross a line to get what I want. Just as you did to save your daughter’s life.”
    I snatched the pen from his hand and stabbed the paper with my signature, essentially signing over my soul to the devil incarnate. I’d only experienced this kind of claustrophobic captivity one other time in my life, and it was a time capsule of hell I’d buried deep in my memory. Would Gage unearth it?  
    “Excellent.” He grabbed the contract and enclosed it in a safe. “And since today is Friday—” he scribbled something on a piece of paper “—here’s my address. Go to BodyScape Spa first and ask for Glenda. I’ll call ahead and make arrangements.”
    I moved toward the door, my steps heavy, as if he’d already shackled my ankles.  
    “Oh, and Kayla?”
    I stiffened at the sound of his voice. “Yes?”  
    “I want you on my doorstep wearing nothing but a trench coat in two hours.”
    He was insane if he thought I was going to do that.

2. D E T O U R
    I gagged for what seemed like the tenth time and heaved more of my lunch into the toilet. I’d probably never eat chow mein again. Getting to my feet, I braced against the stall and closed my eyes. Gage was all I thought about. Nothing else penetrated past the haze in my mind. I tried to imagine him touching me . . . doing more than touching me, but my stomach rolled again at the thought.  
    I stumbled out of the stall, still shaking, but at least I’d stopped vomiting. Katherine, the receptionist, quirked an eyebrow as she reapplied her lipstick. “Let me guess, knocked up?”
    “Bad food at lunch today.” Refusing to rise to her bait, I joined her at the sink and calmly washed my hands. Katherine was one of those preppy girls, the kind who never had a hair out of place and wouldn’t be caught in a morgue wearing anything other than a designer label. She also didn’t hesitate to bare her claws if she thought someone was poaching on her turf. In her ice-blue eyes, Gage Channing was off-limits to everyone but herself.  
    Why couldn’t he have chosen her to torment and terrorize?  
    I left the restroom, praying she wouldn’t feed the office grapevine with stories of a pregnancy, and got stuck in rush-hour traffic on my way to