Sheer Submission (Sheer Submission, Part One) by Hannah Ford

Author:Hannah Ford [Ford, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-11T18:30:00+00:00

I got in.

It wasn’t even a question, really.

Inside, the car smelled like leather and new car, the kind of smell I associated with wealth and extravagance. I’d rarely been in a brand new car. Growing up, my parents had always bought used, and the only car I’d ever owned myself had cost me $1500 dollars and stalled every time I was at a stop sign for too long. I’d sold it before I’d moved to New York, and I’d been living off that money, plus my meager savings, until I could find a job.

I tugged at the bottom of my dress and glanced at Landon out of the corner of my eye. He was staring back at me.

“How did you know where I was?”

“It wasn’t hard to find you, Ms. Courtland.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, ignoring my question.

“Oh, now you’re asking my preferences?” I asked. “If I answer, does that mean you have to answer one of my questions?”

“No.”

“God, you’re bossy. And arrogant.”

“Do you like being bossed, Aven?” His voice was even and calm, but something about the way he said the words, his breathing just a little deeper than usual, his voice laced with something … dangerous wasn’t the right word… dark was more like it.

“Do you have champagne?” I asked hopefully.

He opened a small door that was attached to a refrigerator that was built into the side of the car, pulled out a can of ginger ale, opened it, and poured it into a glass.

“I said I wanted champagne.” I pushed the glass back at him.

“Drink.”

He was insistent, and the first flutters of trepidation started in my belly. Yes, he was famous and rich and sexy as all hell. But I didn’t know anything about Landon Sheer except for what I’d read in magazines. His brother might have kidnapped my sister, which didn’t exactly help when it came to the whole company you keep thing. And he’d somehow known my phone number and whereabouts.

I stared at the glass, remembering how it had been drilled into my head never to accept a drink from a stranger. I’d seen him pour it, but still.

I set it down in the built-in drink holder that was in the door.

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Relax,” he said, as the car pulled to a stop in front of a shiny silver skyscraper that I recognized as the headquarters of Sheer International. “You are free to leave any time, do you understand that, Ms. Courtland?”

He was out of the car before I could answer and a second later he was opening my, reaching for my hand and helping me out of the car.

He placed his hand on my back and guided me into the lobby – it was ornate, done in shades of black and silver. A security guard sat at a desk.

He nodded. “Mr. Sheer.”

“Jeffrey.” Landon nodded. “Please hold any visitors or calls.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You get visitors and calls at this hour?” I asked.

“It’s only nine o’clock,” Landon said, as if I were his elderly grandmother who needed to be in bed by seven or something.

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