Own Me (Masters of Corsica #1) Read Online Jane Henry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Masters of Corsica Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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I look back at the surveillance footage.

Me:

I’ll get in there.

My brother Lyam can hold his own. Whoever took him knows that if they hurt him, there will be hell to pay. Bloodshed. They’re holding him to get what they want.

They think I’m a man who can be bargained with and bribed.

Tomorrow, I’ll get whatever information I can from Jean-Pierre.

Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to make Nicolette an offer she can’t refuse.

I awake early the next morning and shake off the memory of my dreams featuring every single imagined fantasy I had the night before involving Nicolette.

I pad to the kitchen and start the coffee when the door to my bedroom creaks open.

“Good morn—oh.”

I turn to see Nicolette in the doorway, wrapped in a thin ivory robe that hits just above her knees.

I’m standing in the kitchenette barefoot and bare-chested. I didn’t expect she’d be up so soon.

Early bird, then.

“Sorry about that.” My voice is all groggy with sleep as I walk to the living room and turn my back so she doesn’t see the damn erection I woke with. I grab my tee and jeans and quickly tug them on.

“It’s your home,” she says, but when I turn back to her, she’s beet red.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean to parade around half naked.”

Good lord, I love the way her cheeks flush. “Coffee?”

It’s now or never. I’ve given her a little time to settle in, and now I push to make this happen. If she denies me, we go on to plan B, but if she doesn’t…

“Yes, please. I love the way you make coffee here.”

“They say espresso puts hair on your chest.”

“Oh, God, I hope not.”

I give her a half smile. I already know she takes her coffee sweet, four sugars with cream, but she can’t know I know that.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Four sugars with cream.”

I pour her a cup and fix it for her, then pour myself a cup. “Nicolette, this is awkward, but I have a question for you,” I say, hoping she buys my sheepish tone.

“Oh?” She’s sitting at the small kitchenette table, sipping her coffee. “What’s that?”

“You said you like Paris,” I begin. “You see…” I push the helpless look harder. “I’m in a bit of trouble.”

Her coffee cup settles on the table with a click. “Are you?”

“Yes. I promised my mother I’d have a date for my cousin’s wedding this weekend.” I sigh and hope it adds to the whole vibe. “It means a lot to her that my brothers and I show with dates.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t ask.”

Sounds a lot more innocent and “boy next door” than I’m buying you for the weekend to go to The Underground. You will be my slave and I will be your master.

We’ll go to Paris for the wedding. Convince Milo to give us what we need. Return to Corsica and orchestrate my plan.

“Do you mean to tell me,” she says, a hint of flirtation in her voice, “that a man like you can’t find someone to bring? I’d have thought you’d have—” She pauses and looks away. “Okay, that didn’t come out the right way.”

“A man like me?”

“Well, yes. I mean look at you. You’re wealthy and successful, and you look like that? I mean, don’t take it the wrong way…”

“How could anyone take something like that the wrong way?”

She laughs and sips her coffee, her eyes cast down.

“So I was wondering. You’re here at La Maison, for a reason. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the women who work for me are looking to earn some money for a purpose. If you don’t mind me asking, would you fall under that umbrella?”

“No, I quite like the lack of commitment and casual sex,” she quips with an eye roll. Ah, so a good night’s sleep brings out the real Nicolette. Good to know. She shows no sign of not wanting to talk about this, so I push. I have to, if I’m going to get what I want.

“If it’s not too personal, may I ask how much you’re aiming to earn? Save?”

“It’s not too personal. I’m aiming for one hundred thousand euro.”

To take care of her and her sister. She has twenty, which means she’s got a long way to go.

“That’s a sizable sum. What would you say if we come up with a win-win situation?”

She clears her throat. “What would that entail?”

“I buy you for the entire weekend. You come with me to Paris for my cousin’s wedding. Before any of this went down, I told Gwen to clear your calendar for the week.” I give her what I hope is a disarming smile.

“Buy me?” Something I can’t identify flares in her eyes.

“I had a date. She cancelled on me this morning. Now I face going to Paris alone, without a date, and my mother will literally disown me.”


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