Elisabeth's POV
The word exploded from my lips before I could contain it, and I rocketed to my feet with such force that my chair crashed backward onto the floor. My pulse hammered against my ribs as I struggled to process what Jefferson had just proposed.
The sheer audacity of this man left me breathless.
"How dare you suggest such a thing?" My voice shook with fury that threatened to consume me entirely. "Do you honestly believe I'm some desperate woman willing to sell herself just because you helped me escape Andy?"
The words died in my throat, refusing to form completely. I spun away from him, my hands balled into tight fists at my sides. "I should have seen this coming. Men like you are all identical." My voice cracked, but I pushed through the emotion. "Thank you for intervening with Andy, but I'm leaving now."
I took several steps toward the door when his voice sliced through the tension like a sharp blade, controlled yet laced with unmistakable authority. "Elisabeth."
My feet stopped moving against my will.
Something about the way my name rolled off his tongue penetrated straight through my defenses, settling deep in my chest with commanding force. He hadn't shouted or raised his voice, yet the power behind that single word was absolute.
"Face me and take your seat."
I remained motionless, frozen in place.
Every instinct screamed at me not to look back, but then he spoke again, his tone dropping to something that made my spine tingle with unwanted awareness. "Elisabeth. Turn around, right the chair, and sit down."
My body responded without consulting my brain. I found myself rotating slowly, reaching down to lift the fallen chair, and settling back into it as though his words carried some irresistible compulsion. My heart continued its frantic rhythm while heat flooded my cheeks, but I managed to raise my eyes to his.
He watched me with an expression caught between mild irritation and something darker I couldn't identify. A quiet sigh escaped him, his features remaining largely unchanged. "The last few hours led me to believe you possessed intelligence," he said with casual indifference, "I would prefer not to revise that assessment."
His words cut deeper than they had any right to, forcing me to look away from the intensity burning in his stare.
What was happening to me in this room?
Why did his presence make every emotion feel like it was about to spill over uncontrollably?
"I'm not proposing you become my mistress," he continued, his voice steady and unaffected by the storm raging in my mind. "And I have absolutely no intention of taking you to bed."
My head jerked up sharply, and I felt my entire body flush at his blunt declaration. The office walls seemed to close in around me while the air grew thick and suffocating, making each breath a struggle.
"Then what exactly are you offering?" I demanded, despising how lost and bewildered I sounded. This man couldn't make statements like that and expect no reaction whatsoever.
His gaze remained locked on mine, unwavering and penetrating. "Two primary motivations," he said with the same tone one might use to discuss business quarterly reports. "First, it will satisfy the pack leadership regarding my mated status." His eyes sharpened slightly, and I felt the full weight of his attention. "Second, I require your medical knowledge for a personal matter."
I waited for elaboration, but silence stretched between us like a taut wire. My thoughts raced frantically, trying to decode what he wasn't revealing.
Why would he specifically need my medical background?
Then he shattered the quiet with a statement that left me completely speechless. "I suffer from erectile dysfunction. Complete inability to achieve arousal."
My jaw dropped open while no sound emerged. The shock rendered me incapable of forming any rational thoughts. He had delivered this revelation with the same casualness as discussing tomorrow's weather forecast, showing not even a hint of shame.
I started to respond when he continued speaking, "Some witch claimed it stems from a curse, but I don't subscribe to such nonsense." He paused, studying my reaction carefully. "I know this condition can be resolved, and that's precisely why you're here, Elisabeth. I need you to cure me."
Blood rushed to my face while my heartbeat skipped erratically.
For several moments, I could only sit there staring at him in complete disbelief. My mind reeled between wanting to laugh at the absurdity and being utterly mortified by the situation.
He suddenly stood up, and my gaze involuntarily dropped toward his lower body before I caught myself. When I looked back up, I noticed the hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. He had definitely noticed my wandering eyes. I shrank back into my chair, my face burning with embarrassment.
"I didn't intend to look," I stuttered, stumbling over each word.
What was wrong with me? This should be routine given my medical training.
So why was I acting like a flustered teenager?
"Elisabeth," he said gently, so softly it compelled me to meet his eyes again. His voice felt like silk brushing against my skin, both soothing and commanding. "There's no reason for embarrassment when I feel none."
He moved toward the large window behind his desk with fluid grace that seemed almost supernatural given our conversation topic. I couldn't tear my attention away from him, mesmerized by his confident movements and the way he commanded space without effort.
His very presence dominated the room effortlessly.
Still facing away from me, he continued without any trace of discomfort. "I realize I'm asking something significant of you. I understand this situation will feel uncomfortable, but I don't intend to leave you empty-handed."
He turned back to face me, and I swear my lungs forgot how to function. One moment I was breathing normally, the next the air felt too dense to process. He fixed me with that penetrating stare again, the one that made me feel completely exposed despite being fully clothed.
"Had you examined the contract instead of making assumptions, you would have discovered it's only for twelve months. Afterward, I'll provide sufficient funds for you to rebuild your life wherever you choose."
The implications slowly sank in.
Complete freedom. Anywhere in the world.
I could finally become whoever I wanted to be.
No more facades, no more performing as the perfect daughter.
"So I would serve as your Luna in name only?" My voice trembled as I added, "And I would need to treat your condition?"
"Erectile dysfunction," he supplied for me, that same devastating smile spreading across his features and making my face burn even hotter. He showed absolutely no shame whatsoever. I envied his confidence.
"What happens if the treatment fails?" I whispered.
He approached me again, maintaining careful distance between us. Even sitting while he stood, his presence felt overwhelming and all-consuming. My skin tingled with unexpected warmth, and just when I thought I might suffocate from the intensity, he stepped back.
That smile remained, making me resent its effect on my composure. "I suppose we won't discover that until we attempt it."
"And if I decline?" I asked, trying to inject defiance into my tone despite my wavering voice.
He didn't respond immediately, just studied me with an expression that revealed nothing. The silence expanded between us, heavy and suffocating, until I couldn't endure it any longer.
"So this arrangement would be purely business?" I finally exhaled, the words rushing out desperately.
His smile transformed into something more predatory. "There will be no emotional attachment between us, Elisabeth."
The way he spoke my name sent electricity coursing through my entire system like liquid fire in my veins. I swallowed hard, fighting to maintain control.
"Just twelve months," I repeated, mostly to convince myself.
Something flickered behind his eyes, gone before I could interpret its meaning. He nodded once, a simple but definitive gesture.
I focused on the document that had fallen earlier during my outburst. My hands trembled as I retrieved it, my thoughts spinning wildly.
Logic told me to read every clause carefully, but instinct suggested Jefferson Harding had no need for deception.
His power spoke for itself. Taking a steadying breath, I grasped the pen that had somehow materialized on his desk.
With one final look at those gray eyes that I somehow knew would completely unravel me, I signed the contract.