The Duchess's Game of Seduction

Chapter 6

For a moment, Valerie felt the urge to run back upstairs and grab a robe, but that would mean letting him win. Besides, no one told the Duchess what to do. She lifted her chin defiantly.

"I wear whatever I please in my own home," she replied coolly. "Is that a problem for you?"

Rick shook his head slightly and turned his attention back to the tire. "This wasn't an accident," he said flatly. "Someone deliberately cut this tire."

Valerie crossed her arms. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"I'm stating a fact," he replied, not looking up at her. "This is a clean cut, not a puncture or a blowout."

He stood up, dusting off his hands. "I'll need to replace it. I have some tires that might fit in my truck."

"I'll watch," Valerie said, stepping closer.

Rick gave her an irritated glance. "That's not necessary."

"It's my car," she insisted. "I want to make sure it's done properly."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

When Rick returned, Valerie stood there while he worked, trying to think of how to approach the subject that had been consuming her thoughts. She hadn't felt this tongue-tied in years. The words that usually flowed so easily felt stuck in her throat.

Rick worked like a pro, looking very focused. Valerie found herself watching the muscles in his arms flex as he lifted the heavy tire.

"You're good at what you do," she commented, trying to break the tension.

"I know," he replied simply, not even glancing her way.

After several more minutes of uncomfortable silence, Valerie finally mustered up her courage.

"I have a proposition for you," she said.

Rick didn't pause in his work. "Not interested."

"You haven't even heard what it is."

"Don't need to." He tightened the lug nuts of the tires.

Valerie took a deep breath. "One night," she said, her voice softer than she intended. "Make love to me for one night and I'll never bother you again."

Rick's hands stilled for just a moment, but long enough for Valerie to notice. Then he resumed working as if she hadn't spoken.

"Did you hear what I said?" she pressed.

He stood up, wiping his hands on a rag. "I heard you."

"And?"

Rick looked at her directly, his eyes cold. "f**k off. I'm not interested," he replied, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as he turned to pack up his tools.

Valerie felt as if she'd been slapped. No one had ever rejected her so bluntly before. "Is there something wrong with me?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Rick paused, glancing back at her with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"You heard me," she said, hating how vulnerable she suddenly felt. "What is it about me that you find so repulsive?"

Rick studied her for a long moment. "It's not about how you look."

"Then what is it?" she demanded.

He closed his toolbox with a snap. "It's about who you are."

Valerie blinked, confusion spreading across her face. Men always wanted her. They didn't reject her, and certainly not because of "who she was."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice getting smaller.

Rick tightened his toolbox and straightened to his full height. He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then simply shook his head.

"Nothing," he said finally. "Forget it."

"No," Valerie insisted, stepping closer. "You can't just say something like that and then refuse to explain yourself."

Rick glanced at his watch. "I'm done here. That'll be eight hundred for the tire and service call."

"Eight hundred?" Valerie repeated, momentarily distracted. "That's highway robbery for a tire change."

The corner of Rick's mouth twitched. "You said you'd pay triple my usual rate. That's what you're getting."

Valerie felt heat rising to her cheeks. He was right - she had said that. "Fine," she said, turning toward the house. "Let me get my purse."

"Cash," Rick called after her. "No checks."

She paused at the doorway, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "Do I look like someone who carries cash?"

"You look like someone who can get it," he replied simply.

Inside, Valerie leaned against the wall, trying to collect herself. This wasn't how today was supposed to go. Rick was supposed to be dazzled by her, fall at her feet like every other man. Instead, he was treating her like she wasn’t worth a dime.

She dug through her safe and found enough cash, then composed herself before heading back outside. Rick was already loading his tools into his truck.

"Here," she said, holding out the stack of bills.

Rick took the money without counting it and stuffed it into his pocket. "We're done here."

"You still haven't answered my question," Valerie said, unwilling to let him leave like this. "What did you mean about who I am?"

"I have somewhere important to be," Rick said, opening his truck door. "A real emergency, not a rich woman with a slashed tire trying to get laid."

Valerie felt as if she'd been doused with ice water. Her face was flushed with so much humiliation that she couldn’t utter a word.

She knew her embarrassment was visible on her face, and he saw it, because he clearly wasn’t done. "Look, next time you want something from someone, try being honest. This whole..." he gestured vaguely at her outfit and the car, "...setup isn't doing you any favors."

Valerie stood, still speechless. For the first time in years, she didn't know how to reclaim her lost dignity.

She heard the truck door slam and the engine start. As Rick drove away, she remained standing in her driveway, the Ferrari with its new tire forgotten. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling the chill in the air - or perhaps it was the chill of rejection.

What had happened to her? The Duchess of New York, reduced to this - standing alone in her driveway, watching a mechanic drive away, taking her pride with him. This was far from over. She won’t let today’s encounter be Rick’s last memories of her. Never! She had to find a way to reclaim her pride.

As she turned towards her penthouse, a familiar chilling voice stopped her in her tracks. "Well, if it isn't my brother's widow. Is that dress for me?"