CHRISTINA
I’ve been bought by gorgeous man. A duke no less, but I didn’t expect this. The bursar’s office is right by the door I came in earlier, late as hell. I had to get Julie, my seven-year-old sister off to school. When our parent’s died last year in a train accident, I was seventeen. I kept waiting for someone from the government to show up at our flat and take her away from me, but they never did. Thankfully, the flat is paid for and they left us plenty of money to pay the bills, but that money is quickly running out. I didn’t expect to be Julie’s mother, but we do what we must for family, and I’d do anything for her, including selling myself to a man. I can do one night with a man and live comfortably for a while. I got a job, but it’s not enough. Waitressing will never provide us with everything we need. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Julie.
As I am still in school, I have to get through my exams and figure out to pay for college. I have no idea what this man in going to want from me but for almost a million dollars, minus the auction house’s fifteen percent fee, he can have whatever he wants. I can do whatever he wants for one night.
I wait impatiently for him to come into the room. When he does, all he does is stare at me. His stare goes all through me and I realize that I like him looking at me. The air in the room has changed, it’s almost electrified.
“Your Grace,” I say, curtsying to him like I’ve seen on TV. I don’t know why I did that, but it seems appropriate.
“What is your name, lass?” he growls. That growl goes all through me.
“Christina Martin,” I reply.
“I am Graeme.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Your Grace.”
“Call me Graeme.”
“Graeme,” I repeat, liking the sound of his name.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks, as he fills out some paperwork with the cashier.
“Go where?”
“Home, with me.”
“Now? I thought I’d have more time.”
“Time for what?”
“To prepare.”
“Prepare for what?”
“For whatever you are going to do to me,” I blurt. He doesn’t seem like a sex pervert, but you never can tell.
“You are all set, Your Grace. Ms. Martin, you can expect funds in your bank account within the hour,” the cashiers says.
“Thank you,” I reply.
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” the cashier says, leaving his little metal cage, locking it behind him, and exiting the small entry way. Even the doorman who was here earlier has disappeared.
“You had no hard no’s,” he says as soon as the door closes.
“No. I don’t.”
“Then we are getting married.”
“What?” I ask, confused as hell. Did he say marry? I thought this was just a sex thing.
“I’m going to marry you, Christina. You’ll be my duchess.”
“You didn’t ask, and I didn’t say yes.”
“A formality, I assure you.”
“I can’t go Sutherland,” I blurt out. Am I really considering this?