Macy Piers is in debt again. Getting a second job isn’t going to cut it this time. Determined to pay off her credit card bills in one shot, she heads over to Velvet Nights, a nightclub that caters to Tieg clientele and holds date auctions. She signs herself up for auction, hoping that the cut she’d receive from the final bid would be enough to eliminate her debt. Being someone’s escort for a week would hurt her pride, but it would also serve as a lesson. While being prepped for the auction by the club’s owner, a big, rugged man walks into the room and the whole world stops. His hard-edged looks and the dark intensity of his eyes trap her while making her pulse race. Is he one of the bidders? Unsettled by her intense reaction to this stranger, Macy is relieved when she’s taken to the auction lounge, yet he’s already made an imprint in her mind.
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Escort for a Week
Copyright © 2011 Celia Jade
ISBN: 978-1-55487-ARC
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Smashwords Edition
Escort for a Week
By
Celia Jade
Chapter One
Macy Piers groaned as she stared at the balance of her checking and savings accounts on the screen of her laptop. She chewed her lip and shook her head. Once she’d paid her rent and the rest of her usual expenses, there would barely be enough money to pay for her whopping credit card bills. She couldn’t believe she’d done it again. It had taken almost a year to pay off her last debt. Too proud to borrow money from anyone—including her family—she’d worked as a waitress on weekends on top of her regular job in order to pay the debt off. She’d been young, almost fresh out of college at the time, and hadn’t placed much importance on saving money. Now at twenty-eight, her situation was inexcusable.
With a great deal of reluctance she slid one of the bills toward her. Each purchase had been a comfort fix, like hot chicken soup to soothe the aches of a bad cold—only five times better.
Neiman Marcus. The sequined Aidan Mattox cocktail dress was a steal at twenty percent discount.
Saks Fifth Avenue. Her very first pair of Louboutin pumps. A gift to herself after winning the Docks & Hammer bid.
Saks Fifth Avenue. Her second pair of Louboutins…flats. Her nose crinkled as she realized she’d bought a similar pair a couple of weeks ago. Right. Well, she’d just return them.
She skimmed the rest of the document quickly, cringing because these items were non-refundable.
An order for a dining room set and bedroom curtains, delivered last week, a bunch of outings to restaurants and fine arts events, a pastry cooking class, and a weekend spa package in Itasca.
Macy blew out a heavy sigh, having forgotten about the girls’ getaway she’d enjoyed last month. She’d return what she could, but some items on the bills had final sale policies. And there was the donation she’d made to MADD. No way was she making a stop payment on that. In any case, this was a lesson to her. Hopefully the last one she’d need to get her finances in order. Her best friend, Jenn, and Mom—self-appointed psychologists—insisted that she suffered from shopping “process addiction”. Both had been urging her to get therapy for a long time, but they were barking up the wrong tree. Her problem was her inability to manage her money from time to time. She needed a financial planner, not a therapist.
She admitted that her shopping sprees had increased since Kate’s death six years ago. She was her sister for heaven’s sake. The shopping helped get her through that awful period—not that you ever got over the death of a loved one.
Macy pushed out a sigh, gathered a handful of shopping bags from the floor in the living room and carried them to the small walk-in closet in her bedroom. She tucked them into a corner for now. Glancing around, she was proud of her tidiness at least. Work clothes on the right, casual and party clothes on the left, arranged by style and color. Price labels still dangled from several articles, bringing a cloud over her face.
She stepped back, pushed the door closed and leaned on it. She had to pay off the credit cards in full before the end of the month otherwise she’d be in debt for at least…God…two years? And waiting tables wasn’t going to cut it this time.
Bruce Lorenz, the owner of Velvet Nights, rubbed his chin. “Look, Macy, I realize that Michael referred you and I understand your situation, but I provide a special service to my VIP members. The dates are people who do this out of pure pleasure, with no monetary motive.”
Macy leaned her forearm on his desk. “Then why do you offer a forty percent cut from the bidding?”
His broad shoulders lifted. “To help cover an unpaid leave of absence from work, for example.”
She nodded. “Well, I understand what’s involved here and I promise that your client will be completely satisfied.” When he meant to speak, she pressed on, “Please, give me a chance. To be honest, I’ve always been fascinated by the Tieg, and I’ve dated one so I know what they like,” she ended with a note of huskiness. The latter was a teeny fib—she’d researched the race on the net last night in the hope of learning something about their sexual interests.
Bruce’s gaze held hers for several nerve-wracking seconds. Then he let out a gruff sigh and slid open the top drawer of his desk. He presented her with a document. “Read the contract carefully. It must be adhered to one hundred percent.” He placed a pen next to it and leaned back in his chair.
While she read it, her stomach clenched at some of the stipulations, but she kept a straight face. Once she signed the document, she looked up and asked, “When is your next auction?”
“We normally have auctions on Saturdays and they’re all booked this month…”
Her heart sank, but he lifted a hand. “However, there were a few members I couldn’t accommodate so I’ve tentatively booked one next Friday.”
Her heart skipped with relief. “Okay, I can do that.”
“It’s held in the VIP lounge at nine PM so it’s very private.” He flicked a glance at his agenda. “Four members are registered to attend. You’ll need to be free for seven days following the bidding.”
She thought quickly. She was due to take vacation next month, but she could take it early. “That’s perfect.”
“Come a half hour early so Sheena can do your make-up.”
“Okay.”
“You need to wear a short black sleeveless dress. And it has to be snug. And high heels.”
He just described about a quarter of her wardrobe. She smiled. “No problem.”
Chapter Two
Rivulets of sweat trickled down his bare back, and his muscles burned, but Dean Jaeger’s gloved fists delivered consistent brutal blows to the punching bag. He’d managed to get rid of most of the negative energy, but he could still feel a small amount of it running like a black current through his veins. He’d been hunting and fighting rogue Tieg for ten years, and in all that time he’d only killed four, including yesterday’s execution. The rogue’s energy had been unusually potent, and Dean had consumed too much of it during the battle.
He would have continued hitting the bag if his cell didn’t ring. He reached into the pocket of his sweat pants and pulled it out. It was Patra’s office.
“Yes?”
“Dean, Patra wishes to see you,” Vicky said.
“All right. I’ll be up there in about a half hour.”
He turned to the bag and gave it a final, punishing blow before heading for the locker room. Once he’d showered, he opened his locker and donned a fresh shirt and jeans, then walked to the elevator and hit the button for the ninth floor of the Chicago Tieg Force Headquarters building.
When he walked into Patra’s office, she was standing by one of the large windows, the sun glinting off her dark, short-cropped hair. He paused near her desk.