3 Indecent proposal

Sofie's spy-game had started. While she did not learn anything about MP Kerry, Philip proved to be as susceptible to her skills as any other informant. But her triumph was short lived. A victorious expression was plastered on Philip's face right now; she too had inadvertently revealed something.

"Why are you looking at me like this?" Sofie demanded alarmed.

"Like what?"

"Like I spilled a secret?"

A curt nod acknowledged her observational skills; he had not expected this.

Leaning forward he asked somewhat unsettled "What is your intention here?"

"No. You cannot answer a question with a question, Philip," she pressed, sensing a crack in his control.

"Well, it would seem that I can, Miss Carter." A sly smile crept into his face bringing back the confident gigolo. "And I would argue that my question is more interesting than yours. So you should go ahead and answer it."

Sofie crooked her head. How insufferably cocky. Especially, since he has a point.. He probably would just confirm that the secret she had spilled was about conquest. Saying to a woman he had never been in love was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Especially to a woman with the psychological profile of his clients: used to getting the seemingly unreachable. He probably interpreted her excitement as the silent acceptance of his challenge. A challenge he already decided could never be won. Neither by her nor any of his other clients.

That was fine by her. Her goal was to get into his head, not his heart. Fortifying his defences at the wrong site would make her job easier.

"Ok. So why am I here?" she said smiling sweetly. "Mrs Gartner probably didn't tell you this, but she had been planning to quit the Club for a while now. To devote more time to her charity work. She sent me here to experience what the Club has to over, so she has a close friend to reminisce with after she quit for good."

"You are a charity worker? Really?"

"Yes. I help the homeless."

It wasn't too far from the truth. In fact, stopping MP Kerry probably did more for the homeless than the soup kitchen and shelters combined. It would stop a further deterioration of the already meager social support net and prevent more people from slipping into poverty. It also was the perfect alibi for why she frequented with unsavoury characters, or ducked through dangerous alleyways at night.

"That sounds like heart-wrenching work. Do you have someone at home? Someone special to lean on for moral support?"

"Are you asking me whether I have a partner?"

Why would he ask that? It's not like he suddenly grew a conscience.

"Do you?"

"No. My work fulfils me."

She too had rehearsed lines.

"Well then, that brings me back to my original question: Why are you here, Miss Carter?"

Did he just outmanoeuvre her? Well played. But there were millions of ways to parry a strike, even a good one.

"Curiosity, I suppose." she offered, gearing up for a strike of her own. "I didn't really want to take Mrs Gartner up on her offer. I thought the club would never transfer visits to someone like me. I thought that coming here and playing along would be the easiest way to get out of this offer." She exhaled slowly. "But when I saw you downstairs… And when you asked me whether I wanted this… ", she paused to look at him through her lashes, "all I could think was 'Yes, I want this... I want this badly'."

She shook her head, pretending to be embarrassed.

"I am never spontaneous like this. Tell me, has this ever happened before? Did anyone else come here without a specific goal in mind?" She looked at him from under her lashes. "I understand you don't want to talk about your other clients, but it would make me feel so much better. Less silly. I need to know that I am not the only one suddenly throwing caution over board and wanting to go through with this." she said with a slight tremble in her voice while pointing to him and her.

"Oh, you are good. You almost made me believe you. I had butterflies in my stomach when you looked at me just now," he said savouring her shock of being called out. "But the part about not understanding why you go through with this? That was the first true thing you said all night."

He took a sip from his tonic while he evaluated Sofie.

"There is something you came here to do. But I can tell that it is not quite going the way you planned. Yet you stay. Because of what?"

Not because of you, you self-centred prick. Because I don't give up! Because what I fight for is worth it.

As her anger subsided she had to admit that calling her charade was a neat trick. This man was rather skilled at reading people. At observing and making the right deductions.

That probably made him the incredible lover he was famed for. Stop it!

"I tell you what," he said, playing with the condensation on the glass by letting his fingers glide through the moisture. "I'll describe to you how these visits usually go."

Fine. She needed to regroup and come up with a new strategy. Him gloating about his skills gave her the time to think. She only hoped that this would not be too explicit. She found the thought of listening to how he seduced other women strangely hard to stomach.

"The physical act of intimacy is the smallest part of the night. It is not unusual for me to have a conversation with the women for two of the three hours we are together. A subtle mental dance to learn how to read them. Helping our minds to connect before our bodies do. Rather similar to what we just did the last two hours." he said with a wink.

She stared at him, unable to stop the heat from rising. The next hour could be very different to what they've done so far. If only I could give in.

"You see I am a collector." he continued, focusing her thoughts away from the desire spreading in her body. "I collect memories like others might collect butterflies. And just like butterfly wings, the specimens in my collection are also very sensitive; easily disturbed by the harsh light of day. So I guard my collection. I never show it to other people. But for everything there can be a first. I am willing to show some of my butterflies to a collector who appreciates the rarity, the value. Would you be such a collector?"

Oh my god! Was he telling her that he collected secrets about his clients and would share them with her?

"Yes," she breathed, unsure where this conversation was going.

"I thought so. As someone who knows the worth of my collection. You can appreciate that there will be a price."

"Of course. What do you have in mind?"

She was back on familiar ground. Working out deals, negotiating terms, that's what she was good at. Every story she worked on had winners and losers. Typically the ones who talked early came out with the best deal: money, immunity, protection. It was her job to broker between opposing sides. Sides that each protected something, be that their interests or the law.

"Something that is equally well guarded." An enigmatic smile crossed his face as he let his gaze glide up her long legs, over the curve of her hips, before burning the weight of his meaning into her mind.

The breath went out of her lungs. She has had indecent proposals before. Every single one of them was laughable or downright demeaning. With this one, she was not laughing. With this one she did not feel disgusted. This one felt dangerous. Dangerous because she wanted to pay the price. Wanted to hand over the goods without even checking the consequences. But her journalistic training kicked in, the questions left her lips automatically.

"Why? You have a new woman every night. Why me?"

"You are..." he paused letting his eyes trail to her mouth, lingering for a moment, before inhaling sharply as if to drag his mind away from something. "It is a test Miss Carter. A test to see how much my butterflies are worth to you. How wisely you'll use them."

Holding the secrets of powerful women was not a commodity to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. He cared about what would happen to everyone involved.

Does he have a conscience? Or is he just playing?

"But with such an arrangement I am not the only one paying a price," she said "you would be paying too."

"In case you don't remember, I sleep with women for a living." he said with a chuckle before a dark expression took over his face. "One more does not make a difference to me. For me it would be utterly forgettable."

The ice in his voice made her shutter. But the fire in his eyes suggested a different interpretation. In there, the reason it would be unforgettable to her was not because she had given up the sovereignty of her body but because she would gain an experience. An experience, Club Elandra would pride itself on.

Was she game for that?