Love For Sale Read Online Free PDF Page A

after his ass hit the leather, classical piano drifted through the vehicle. March rested her head on the back of the seat, closed her eyes, and let the music and motion lull her into a daydream of what tomorrow would bring. Tonight, in a Rolls Royce, she imagined she could pay any price. At 10:00 in the morning, she was afraid any pretense would be shattered.
    The Rolls joined the stream of traffic toward the city. March peered out the window, but the misty rain obscured the treasures of London. A sea of taillights and headlights swept them down the motorway. She was happy with her champagne…and her decision to visit Mayfair. Almost too happy to wait or to sit still . Tomorrow seemed like weeks away. She dared not think too much, but she dared to dream. Sipping bubbly, she watched the shapes of the old buildings scroll by. The chauffeur probably knew why she was here. A thousand questions burned her throat.
    March swallowed hard. “Have you seen the Special Editions?”
    “I have.” He glanced at her in the rearview. “They are called Special Editions for a reason. They are totally amazing. If my wife would allow it, I’d empty my savings account to buy Monica. She’s exquisite.”
    “I’m sure any wife would be jealous of perfection. I know I would.” Paul would dismantle the android limb by limb. She laughed, enjoying the feel-good moment. “Monica? So, they are named?”
    “Each of the model lines is named. The females are Monica, Dawn, Georgia, Marguerite and Samantha. It is anticipated that the purchaser will give his or her companion a personal name. They can be custom ordered as well.”
    “That’s good to know.” March refilled her glass. “What are the male model names?”
    “Trevor, Stuart, Marcus, Daniel and Christian.”
    “Nice strong names. In fact, Christian is my favorite name.” The champagne warmed her stomach, flushed her cheeks, and loosened her tongue. “I might buy one.”
    He captured her gaze in the rearview, smiled, and nodded. “I’m sure you will.”
    The man sounded confident she’d return home with an android. Which model would catch her fancy? Long after Ben’s attention returned to the road, March studied her reflection in the window. She decided she didn’t look like a fool. Would Trevor, Stuart, Marcus, Daniel, or Christian notice her light brown tresses were due a highlighting? Were they programmed not to care?
    Ben swung the Rolls to the curb in front of a Georgian building, opened the door and walked her to the check-in counter.
    “Goodnight, Ms. Morgan.” He turned her luggage, except the canvas bag, over to a bellman. “I hope you enjoy your stay in London.”
    “Thanks, Ben.” She slipped ten dollars into his hand.
    He shook his head and returned the money. “Thank you, Ms. Morgan, but no.”
    “I insist.” She extended her hand, folded bill in her fingers.
    “You wouldn’t want to endanger my position with Mayfair.” When he smiled again, she noticed his front teeth were quite prominent.
    It seemed that everything about Mayfair Electronics spelled classy.
    The hotel was suitably old, smelled of history, and looked like a page plucked from a travel guide. Not exactly the Ritz, but the ambiance appealed to March more than a modern hotel. Her room was small, the bed antique. The community bathroom was down the hall. Tucked in an alcove were a round porcelain sink and a gold mirror. A radiator hissed along the wall beneath the window.
    “I’ll skip dinner. I’m too excited to eat,” she told the woman smiling at her in the old-fashioned looking glass.

Chapter 3
    “Ms. Morgan.” A pretty Asian girl in the Mayfair uniform of red and white gestured for her to rise. “My name is Melissa. If you’ll follow me, we’ll meet the boys.”
    March’s stomach flipped. The expectation and anticipation would soon be satisfied. She stood, picking up the completed documents from the inlaid desk. On the numerous pages, March Morgan was set forth in intimate