Close Harmony (Food Of Love 3) - Page 96

“You’ve all heard of the girl who auctioned off her virginity. Well, I’m no virgin, but I do need funding for my MA in Women’s Studies, and I can offer something that might well appeal to those dominant men among you.

I’m offering my submission.

Subject to agreement of limits etc. for a period of one calendar month—will probably have to be August owing to academic commitments—I can obey your every command and satisfy your every whim.

Tempted? Please apply to [email protected]

I look forward to hearing your orders.”

A blizzard of interest had buffeted her inbox, most of it spurious, but in the end she had narrowed down the field of bidders to three.

The winning bid had taken her breath away.

One million pounds.

Enough to fund a lifetime’s research, let alone the tract she intended to write on the contrast between Victorian and medieval attitudes to female sexuality. She had almost vomited when she had seen the email with the offer.

Of course, it had to be a hoax. Nobody would offer that. Nobody in their right mind, surely.

But communication over the telephone with ‘Mr Nobody’s’ legal team had convinced her that it was serious, and now she was meeting his solicitor in his London office to finalise the arrangement.

It didn’t help that a couple of journalists had seen her advertisement and posed as bidders themselves, hoping to get a story about what kind of woman might do such a thing. Erin had sniffed out their misogynistic agenda straight away and blocked them, but she was wary all the same.

And now she was really nervous. Her name stared up at her, in black and white, agreeing to do who knew what with who knew whom.

“Okay, so is that everything?” she asked, working hard to maintain a veneer of self-possession in the face of this dispassionate bespectacled suit.

“I believe so,” he said with a chilly smile.

Her skin goose-pimpled. What on earth must he think of me?

But she had a stern word with her inner voice. It didn’t matter what the lawyer thought. It didn’t matter what anyone thought. She was using her resources to achieve a desired outcome. There was no more to it than that.

“And do I get to know his name at any point? I’m guessing Mr Nobody is a pseudonym.”

“Good guess.” A more genuine smile this time. “My client is not a famous name and I doubt you would recognise his face unless you spend a lot of time poring over th

e Financial Times, but he is necessarily cautious—as you have been. He will decide if and when he wants to reveal his true identity to you. At your initial meeting, he requests that you know him only as ‘Sir’.”

“Wow.”

The lawyer nodded, as if aware of what a bizarre request this was, but powerless to alter it.

“I will have these agreements sent on to him. He will contact you with details of your first meeting.”

“What if he doesn’t like me?” She hadn’t meant to voice this anxiety, but the words spilled out regardless.

The lawyer raised his eyebrows.

“You might well ask that question the other way round. What if you don’t like him?”

“That doesn’t matter. He’s paid for me. We have an agreement.”

“Good, I’m glad you’ve fully understood the situation. If he doesn’t like you, he must still pay you. However, if you renege on the deal, the agreement is void, and you don’t receive a penny. You have backed up your position with plenty of limits and no-gos. My client will respect them all.”

Erin nodded, looking down at her fingers, which she twisted in her lap.

More gently, the lawyer continued, “He has seen the video you sent him. He knows he finds you attractive, and he enjoys your personality too. There is a very good chance that you will make an acceptable match. If you don’t, you can walk away at any time. But you will have to find another, perhaps less colourful way to fund your education.”

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