Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
This fic is also inspired by Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed by Anna Campbell. It's a great book but I do not recommend it for spoiler reasons.
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Isabella bit her lip until she tasted blood and she fought the urge to turn and run as far away from Masen Hall as her legs would take her. Only the image of her sister and nephews kept her from moving. There was too much at stake for her to let herself become a coward.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to the man opposite her. He wore a white v-neck shirt and jeans and she wanted to slap herself for noticing the dark hair and muscled chest that peaked from his shirt before drawing the courage to look at his face.
His hair was the most unruly thing she'd ever seen, the copper locks shining in the fire light as they sat in a wild mess atop his head. In another life, she might have wondered what it felt like beneath her fingertips. A strong jawline lined with stubble drew in her eye before she met his intense gaze.
He would have been beautiful if someone had not tried to slice open his face. The scars were large and wide, the largest was at least the width of her pinkie finger, spreading from the top of his right eyebrow and over his nose to finish on his cheek. Another scar crossed over the one on his cheek, creating a giant x on his left cheek.
Moving her gaze from his, she stared at the long fingers belonging to a strong had that was wrapped around a tumbler that she assumed was filled with liquor, a ruby ring danced with reflections of the blazing fire beside him.
"You're late." He said, his voice deep and smooth, wrapping around her like velvet.
She'd expected herself to cower at his words but she surprised herself and held steady, the anger at her sister's situation rising within her at his nonchalant tone, as though he didn't care that he was ruining her sisters life and would soon be ruining hers too.
"The weather made travelling a little difficult." She bit back, her hands surprisingly steady as she pushed back the hood of her soaked coat. "It must disapprove of your inappropriate schemes."
As she watched him take in her uncovered features, she took satisfaction in watching the nonchalance of moments ago slip away, replacing itself with bewilderment and curiosity. He sat up straight then, glaring at her from across the large table.
"Who the fuck are you?"
The woman, whoever the fuck she was, didn't flinch as his harsh words met her ears. Her large dark eyes stared at him bravely as he stood before him, her wet hair plastered to her head and her large, pink mouth beckoning his gaze.
The only sign that she wasn't as composed as she was trying to let him believe was the blush adorning her cheeks. She was young, he thought as he continued to study her porcelain features, way too young to be letting herself be acquainted by the likes of a well-known asshole like Edward Cullen.
At her side, Charlotte's face flushed with embarrassment. "You said you were expecting a woman, Mr Cullen, you didn't specify-"
He cut her off, "It's fine Charlotte. Leave us."
The woman hesitated a moment "Will you be expecting another one tonight Sir?" she asked.
Edward's mouth curved into a wry smirk. "I somehow doubt it."
He surprised himself as he stared at the young woman before him, his curiosity winning out over the anger. "I imagine the darling Rosalie is busy this evening?"
Her lips flattened into a straight line, a reaction his scars often caused, however other than her dropping her bag, the girl had remained marvellously composed while she stared at him with those dark eyes. Unlike Rosalie, who despite knowing him for years continued to stare at his face with unconcealed horror every time they were in the same room together.
Irritation rose from within him, he had been looking forward wiping the horror from Rosalie's face every time they were acquainted. Unfortunately, the arrival of this beauty meant that he would not be teaching his cousin's wife that lesson this evening.
"My name is Isabella Swan." The girl spat out, her chin raised high as her body fought against the cold from her wet clothes. Her tone was laced with resentment, something that he was far too used to hearing, although it sounded out of place coming from her soft pink mouth.
He wondered idly what the skin hidden beneath her water-logged clothes would feel like beneath his hands.
"I'm Rosalie's sister." The girl said, her voice remarkably soft despite her furious tone. An angry kitten, he thought with a small smirk. I wonder if she bites.
"Well apologies then." He said, his tone full of a confidence that was wavering under the dark gaze of this woman. Although now he knew who she was, the younger sister of Rosalie King. He'd heard of the young woman living with the King's in his late grandfather's estate, but he'd never laid eyes on her before tonight.
Unlike her sister's light haired and in your face beauty, her younger sister's dark hair and eyes made her appear more like the girl-next-door type, nothing like any of the women Edward had ever pursued before.
"Where is your sister then? I do believe she and I agreed to spend a week basking in the joy of each other's company." He said with a cocky grin and triumphant tone.
"You can't have my sister Mr Cullen." The girl said, her strong façade melting away every so slightly as they stared at one another.
"So what, I get to have you then?" His cocky grin turning slightly menacing.
"Yes." She said without hesitation, though he saw the way her hands formed tight fists at her sides.
"Very brave of you to take your sister's place, although you're quite rude to presume that you'll meet my expectations." He drained the dark liquid in the glass. "Your sister was the one who agreed to this deal, not you."
"It's me or it's nothing Mr Cullen." She said, sounding braver than she had throughout their entire conversation and he admired her courage, remembering how he too once was forced to fake bravery while dread stabbed at every fibre of his being. "If you don't take me then my sister's debt becomes void."
"That was not the deal I made with your sister, she agreed to spend the week with me and pay the debt with her body, I informed her that if she didn't, she would have to pay the amount she owes in the traditional way."
"You know she can't afford it." The girl said, the hardness lacing her tone attracting him more than it should.
"That isn't my problem." He said with a smile, his perfect teeth flashing at her.
"You're only doing this to get to Royce." She hissed and he smiled even wider at the thought forcing Rosalie to cheat on her husband with the man he hated the most in the world. His original plan hadn't involved trapping her into this agreement but when she offered herself, despite her disgust of his face, he had become quite pleased with the idea.
"I have no idea what you're talking about Miss Swan." He replied, standing up from the seat at the head of the table and prowling toward her, determination in his step and on his face.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaky with fear as he stopped in front of her, fighting the urge to turn and run once again.
"Your sister believed that you would be adequate in taking her place Miss Swan, how am I supposed to know that while you're buried under all of those clothes?" he moved forward again and she stepped back, again and again until her back was pressed against the wall and he was hovering over her, his green eyes flashing with curiosity as they locked gazes.
"Take off your coat, Isabella."