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She tossed and turned most of the evening, considering the ramifications of her actions. Realizing sleep was futile, Alexandra decided to work on some of her cases, hoping to make some headway on the two she had in the next week so she could spend the weekend with Parker discussing wedding plans. Parker wanted to look at possible venues and Alexandra agreed to help her scout them out. She made her way to the office a little after eight thirty, spending the first part of her day in a meeting, before she sat a minute to compose herself and check messages. Heart racing, she balked at the incoming email address. Roman had replied to her and she felt a bit sick thinking about his answer.

To: AK

From: Roman Valentine

Subject: Re: Valentine

9:35 a.m.

Dear Alexandra,

If you received my information then you already know I cater to an exclusive client list. We welcome all needs, and have plenty of men who would be able to meet your sexual appetite. Should I schedule a time for you to come in and find someone of your tastes who can work within your schedule?

Sincerely,

Roman

Alexandra exhaled, rereading the email again. This could work. Blair’s asinine idea may help her out. Only problem was she refused to deal with one of his “men”. She wanted the best, and after more digging, Roman Valentine was rumored to be as good as they come. Besides, she wanted to make sure her association with his club didn’t get back to her bosses, meaning she needed to work with him.

To: Roman Valentine

From: AK

Subject: Re: Valentine

10:08 a.m.

Dear Roman,

I only work with the best, and as the owner, I’m sure you know who I think is the best.

Sincerely,

Alexandra

She waited for the answer that never came. The man owned a sex club, so Alexandra was sure he’d been propositioned before. Twelve hours later, she swore she’d run him off, figuring it was for the best. Blair’s idea was crazy anyway. The only thing crazier was that she had considered going through with it. Hopefully he would stay quiet and not disclose her communication. Her answer came over twenty-four hours later and made her dig in her heels, more determined than ever to get him.

To: AK

From: Roman Valentine

Subject: Re: Valentine

10:29 a.m.

Dear Alexandra,

You must have misunderstood your friend, or the purpose of my club, because I don’t sleep with my clients. I cater to your needs, but I don’t personally fulfill them.

Sincerely,

Roman

Alexandra mulled it over, strategizing about what it would take to get him to agree. There was something she could offer, an object she didn’t know he wanted until the other day. It seemed like fate when the email came into the inbox, but there was no way of knowing if he’d even accept her terms. She emailed her reply, hoping he decided to give her a chance because if not, she was out of options.

To: Roman Valentine

From: AK

Subject: Re: Valentine

12:37 p.m.

Dear Roman,

I need the best, and you are at the top. The fact you don’t sleep with your clients as a rule only makes me more certain you’re the right pick. I’m looking for a lover, not a porn star. The least you can do is meet me before you say no. If not, I would be willing to discuss the possibility of meeting with other people at your club. I can make it worth your while.

Sincerely,

Alexandra

2

Alexandra stood in front of the nondescript wooden door with the black placard that read Serious Inquiries Only. She would have thought she was in the wrong place except it seemed to fit the elusive man she’d been conversing with via email over the last couple days.

I got your serious inquiry, Alexandra thought, knocking on the door. She looked over her shoulder, watching the people pass by in a blur of color, trying not to stare too hard at anyone’s face. This wasn’t small-town America, but it wasn’t a thriving metropolis either, and the chances of seeing someone connected to the firm she worked for was too high, especially given the clientele Roman seemed to cater to.

She had changed from her shark suit—the name Karen dubbed the outfits Alexandra wore when she was ready to make someone her prey—into jeans, heeled boots, and a soft pink sweater. Her hair, normally tied up in some immaculate up-do to give off a confident air, yet professional, was falling in waves down her back. She turned back toward the door, leaning her head forward so her long, brown hair covered part of her face, and knocked again. She was about to leave, her anxiety at being recognized ratcheting up every second she stood there on the street, when the door opened to reveal the biggest guy she’d ever seen. His arms were stacked, his legs looked like tree trunks, and his neck was nonexistent.

Hello, sir. The bodybuilding competition called; your cue is in ten. She was unimpressed when he folded his arms over his chest in what he probably considered intimidating. I met with a murderer before lunch. You don’t scare me, Alexandra thought, folding her arms over her chest to mimic his pose. Guys like him tended to be mostly just talk. At least she hoped.

“Name?” he growled.

“No name.” Alexandra shook her head. There was no way she was telling him her real name. She was dealing with Roman, not his security guard. “I’m here to see—”

“No name, no entrance. We can do this all night, lady, but you don’t pay me. And there’s nothing special about a little woman who looks like she could be eaten for breakfast that would make me let you in.” He smirked, unamused at her reluctance to give him her name while continuing with her demands.

“Roman called for me,” she said forcefully, watching the look of recognition set in on his face.

The smirk fell and the eyebrows rose. “I’m sure he did. We’re done here.” He went to shut the door, but she slammed her hand against it, the force creating a resounding crack as loud as a cannon in the quiet night.

“Why don’t you call him and ask him for yourself?” The man rolled his eyes, holding up his finger, and going to the phone hanging on the wall. He turned his back, speaking in low tones, glancing back at her.

Muscle hung up the phone and gestured her inside. “Follow the hallway, and make a right at the end. His office is the second on your right.” She walked inside, breathing a sigh of relief when the door shut and desperately hoped no one had recognized her while she stood outside. The hallway he referred to was long and dark, with an occasional light, and silent except for the click of her heels making it seem creepy as opposed to reassuring, silence. It was like a bad omen, but she’d come too far to turn back. She had sacrificed her life for her career, and this was one way to maintain some semblance of normalcy, despite how fucked-up the relationship could be.