Damien watched the emotions flicker across Sierra's expression.
Fear.
Anxiety.
Apprehension.
She was afraid, he silently noted. The fear of her father was obvious, but there was more to her story. There was something just below the surface of all the other emotions.
He almost laughed aloud at the thought. He was paying money to find out more about Sierra Monroe. Her father was basically selling her to him. Damien was starting to think he was the one who'd gotten the bargain out of the deal. She was even more intriguing up close.
Damien waited for Douglas to introduce them, but the man was silent, so Damien took charge. He wasn't patient and wouldn't wait around wasting any of his valuable time.
"Damien Whitfield," he said with a slight nod.
"Sierra Monroe, though you seem to know that," she said with hesitation. It was obvious she was nervous, not used to being called in to her father's office when he had guests over.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Monroe. I'm looking forward to getting…acquainted," Damien told her as he offered his hand. She looked at it with suspicion, but her father had taught her well, because even though it was obvious she didn't want to touch him, she accepted his hand, allowing his large fingers to engulf her delicate hand.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her gaze refusing to meet his. Damien noticed her father's silence as the two of them sat on the couch, almost in a world of their own. He ignored her question.
For all her father knew, Damien wanted Sierra for his own personal sex slave. Damien was disgusted that the man so willingly sold his daughter to the highest bidder. Almost disgusted enough to walk from the room.
Almost.
Not quite.
His eyes took in her petite form, the way her legs were pushed tightly together, how she was twisting her fingers in her lap. When her tongue quickly moistened her surprisingly plump pink lips, he felt a shimmer of desire awaken within him. Surprise filled him.
He narrowed his eyes. This wasn't about desire, and it was best if he remembered that. He got a new employee and an inside connection to the Anderson's. He was glad Douglas had called him. The timing had been impeccable.
With an iron-will that had made him overly successful, he ripped his gaze from her, his attention focusing once more on her father. He looked at the man, waiting for him to inform his daughter of their arrangement.
Damien knew he didn't live in the dark ages. Sierra could refuse to go with him, refuse to be his virtual slave, not that he was telling her that was her job title. He also somehow knew that she wouldn't defy her father. What had him most intrigued was whether her obedience came from loyalty, greed, or fear. He was determined to find out the answer.
With Sierra squirming uncomfortably beside him, he felt an odd stirring of protectiveness rise within him. No! He refused to feel any weakness toward the girl. She wasn't some innocent bystander who needed protection. He'd researched her well, and knew she was as good as any other at playing the games of the rich and famous.
He'd seen her on the arm of many influential people. Whether it was her choice, or her father's, she hadn't seemed unhappy to be traipsed around as nothing more than arm-candy for her different escorts.
"Sierra, Mr. Whitfield has offered you a very generous position with his company," Douglas eventually explained. Damien observed the man who showed no emotion as he spoke. He was stone cold as he talked to his daughter, as if she were nothing more than another business transaction.
Well, to be fair, that's what this was for Douglas Monroe – a business deal, where he got a significant sum of money, and Damien got a high-priced…employee.
"What? I…I don't understand…" Sierra stumbled over her words, her voice confused as she looked up, gazing at Damien with shock filled eyes.
"It's very simple. He's in need of a public relations representative, someone who's reliable, trustworthy and free to travel. He only advertised in the most exclusive of listings. He heard about the excellent job you've done with your charity work, and he'd like to hire you. I've accepted on your behalf. The position starts immediately. You should be honored that a man as influential as Damien Whitfield would even consider you for the position, much less hire you, especially with your lack of…experience. Positions like this don't come around often, and they're never just handed over."
Damien didn't like Douglas's underlining threat to his daughter. He was making it more than clear that she would take the job or face his wrath. The authority he used in his voice was unmistakable. Her complete cooperation was his unyielding expectation.
Even though Damien was getting what he wanted, the way Douglas spoke to his daughter infuriated him. He wanted Sierra to stand up for herself, tell her father to 'go to hell', anything other than sit on the couch, looking so defeated.
"Why me? I wasn't looking for work, yet," Sierra said.
"Of course you weren't," Douglas practically snarled as if Sierra were nothing more than a burden. Damien decided it was time to interrupt again.
"I always know what I want, Sierra. Your father contacted me and I've done the research, and decided you'd accommodate my needs perfectly. It's really quite simple." Damien was still as he waited for any kind of reaction from her.
"What if I refuse?" she asked with reserve, her shoulders slouching as she uttered the words.
"Then you'll disappoint me," Douglas said, menace pouring through his words.
Damien watched as a small shudder passed through her. What had her so afraid of her father? Was it a fear of being cut off from her trust? He wanted to believe that, but somehow he doubted his earlier beliefs that she was nothing but a trust-fund baby. It just didn't add up.
"What are the requirements?" This was asked with hesitancy as if she were afraid of the answer.
She should be.
Damien wanted to know how far she was willing to go to secure her funds. He knew what she was truly asking. She wanted to know if he really needed an employee, or if he was looking for a mistress.
Let her wonder, he thought.
He slowly lifted his hand and ran his fingers across her cheekbone, pushing fallen strands of her dark hair out of her eyes. Those expressive brown eyes flashed to his own, locking their gazes together as his thumb slid across her moist bottom lip. He pulled his hand back quickly, irritated at his sudden lack of control.
"Anything an assistant is asked to do," he said, his voice showing no emotion as he reined himself back in.
He watched in fascination as her eyes widened. There was fear behind her expressive depths. She was out of her element, looking confused, but he saw a spark of excitement there, too. He watched as she glanced to the ground, placing a mask on her face before she looked back up to her father.
His body hummed as he sat next to her, thought of the possibilities of all the hours they'd work together. He felt an attraction to her that seemed to be growing by the minute. It had been a while since his last arrangement with a woman. He knew better than to get involved with employees, however, Sierra wasn't going to work for him forever.
What would be the harm if they had an affair? He'd still get what he ultimately wanted, and after all, they were both consenting adults…
"I…um…don't think I'm qualified," she said, bringing him back to their conversation. It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the job, not about being his lover. Her tongue slipped out and moistened the corner of her lip, sending a surge of heat though him as his attraction to her took another leap.
"I'll be the judge of that. Personally, I think you're more than qualified," he said, managing to place that hint of steel into his tone that had made dignitaries shake.
His eyes roved across her face, then drifted down the column of her throat to the small opening at the top of her blouse. Her generous curves were heaving up and down as her breath quickened. Whether she was excited about the job, or him, he'd soon find out.
"Go pack a couple of bags while I speak with Mr. Whitfield. He has business in Australia so you'll be leaving straight away," Douglas said, dismissing her from the room as if the deal was done.
Damien tensed, waiting for her reaction. He knew he wasn't leaving that house without her. She was a mystery that had to be solved. His focus was shifting from revenge to desire, which he didn't like, but he knew she'd consume his thoughts if he were to walk away at that point. Once he set his mind on something, he had to see it through. It would become an obsession otherwise.
"I… I haven't decided if I'm taking the job," she protested.
"You'd be a fool not to," Douglas said scornfully. "We'll take care of all the small details. You can run along, now."
Damien's irritation with Douglas was at an all-time high and he was about to say something to him until Sierra slowly stood from the couch, lifted her head high, and walked from the room.
Her father had basically told her that her life was his to command, and she hadn't put up much of a protest at all. She'd almost blindly obeyed him.
Damien stood as he faced Douglas. It appeared all the negative information he'd heard about the man through the years had been accurate.
He hadn't liked, nor respected Douglas before their meeting. Now, he couldn't stand him. He was the worst kind of bottom-feeder. He was willing to sell his own daughter as if she were nothing more than a slave. Damien's respect for Sierra wasn't much higher – she was just as willing to sell herself. How does someone get to such a point in their life? he wondered.
There was a voice in the back of his mind countering his thoughts. It was impossible to deny the way she seemed utterly broken, as if her father had somehow bent her will to his command. The way she barely fought back, the slump in her shoulders, the defeated tone she used.
Was all of that fear of losing her home, incurring her father's wrath, or more? One thing Damien knew for sure was that there was a lot more to Sierra than the small glimpse he'd just seen of her. It shouldn't take him too long to unravel the mystery.
"Let's sign the papers," Damien said as he approached Douglas's desk. Damien's face was stoic, giving nothing away. Sitting through the meeting had wreaked havoc on the ghost of a Band-Aid covering his own childhood skeletons. His wounds were now fully exposed, feeling extremely raw. He wouldn't give Douglas even the most fleeting moment of his respect.
It wouldn't take long to figure out Sierra – when she wasn't in the presence of her father.
Damien had an iron-clad contract. If Sierra left his employment before three months was out, all his money would be pulled out of the investment with Monroe Enterprises. Douglas got a third up front, then the rest in three months. Still, if she left, even the initial third would be pulled. If Douglas didn't have the money to re-pay him, Damien would take it any way he could.
Douglas wasn't a stupid man. He'd see very clearly that the contract was impeccably solid. Damien hadn't made his billions by making mistakes.
He watched in disgust as the man signed on the bottom line.
∞∞∞
Sierra slumped down on her bed, proud she'd managed to walk from the room without shedding a tear. She didn't understand what had just happened.
As she looked around her room, the realization of her leaving slowly started sinking in. Some of her fear lifted. It was her way out. She was going away – with her father's blessings, which meant he wouldn't be chasing after her.
She didn't understand why he wanted her to go with Mr. Whitfield, and she was terrified of what their deal was really all about, but still… it was freedom.
She wouldn't have to stay in the empty mansion, fearing her father's next drunken rage. She may even be able to spend some time with Bree, get away, live a real life. Maybe this was the beginning of her true liberation.
With fear and uncertainty still coursing through her at her job expectations, as well as excitement to be leaving, Sierra stood and pulled out two suitcases. She started packing clothes, and certain items that actually meant something to her.
She picked up her picture album, the only one she had. She took a moment to open the cover, looking at the picture of her sitting on her mom's lap, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Each time she looked at the photo she always wondered how differently her life would've turned out had her mother lived.
Would her mom have left her father, taken her daughters away so they could live normal lives? Would she and Sandy get along? Sierra somehow doubted it. If Douglas wouldn't let her leave, she couldn't see him allowing his wife to leave him. He was all about keeping up appearances, and that's exactly what he did, no matter the cost.
She flipped the pages and looked at a picture of her and Bree. She'd go see her soon even if only for a weekend. She shut the cover and carefully placed the album in her bag, then quickly gathered the rest of her belongings she wanted to take.
Sierra's expensive pieces of jewelry were of no interest to her. Douglas had purchased them for high class functions he forced her to attend. He didn't buy them as a reminder of his love for her, but because he had an image to maintain, and he certainly couldn't have his daughter show up to a fundraiser looking anything less than what their family image was. He'd worked hard to create such a facade.
She had few items, considering she was twenty-five years old. Her father didn't buy her gifts, and she wasn't much of a shopper. She had her clothes, her few sentimental keepsakes from her college days, and that was it. She didn't really consider anything else in the room hers.
With what she hoped was a final look at her bedroom, Sierra flicked the switch and bathed her prison in darkness before shutting the door. She pushed down both the fright and elation as she asked one of the servants to help her carry her bags down the stairs.