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"It's not that interesting."
"I don't believe you." I take another bite. Swallow. Focus on the intensity in his eyes. "That you would do anything that bores you."
"Not that interesting to you."
"Try me."
He lets out a small laugh. "I research, run numbers, negotiate. Ian does most of the digging. I do all of the practical and most of the negotiating."
Negotiating. I can see that. "Is that your favorite part of your job?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
His eyes meet mine. "What was your favorite part of working at that awful bar?"
"The tips."
"That doesn't count," he says.
"The way men wanted something from me."
"Men everywhere want you."
"Maybe." My cheeks flush. "But this was different. They were trying to win me over. I hated men staring at me like I was a piece of meat. I hated having to laugh at their jokes. Or listen to them complain their wives didn't understand them. But there was a power in it too. And I liked that power."
His eyes fix on mine. "Is that why you like me?"
"I don't have any power over you."
"Do you really believe that?"
No. "Not exactly." But he is the one with more power here. He's richer than god. I'm no longer a broke cocktail waitress, but my net worth is still half a dozen zeroes short of his.
"You don't realize it." His voice is soft. "How much you could sway me if you wanted. How easy it would be for you to have the upper hand." He half-smiles. "You're not a good negotiator. I could teach you."
"Now that I've signed your contract?"
His laugh is soft. "Are you unsatisfied with the terms?"
The no love thing, yes. But that's not what he means. That's not something we can negotiate.
He'll fall in love with me or he won't.
No amount of money can change that.
"I would have agreed for a lot less," I say. "Maybe just the mortgage and Sienna's scholarship."
"I would have offered more."
"So we both lose?"
"We both win. It's fair."
"Then why should I take negotiation tips from you?"
He chuckles. "I'm not smart when it comes to you."
"Thinking with your cock?"
"Yes."
"Oh." My blush deepens.
"It's not usually an issue. At work. Even if I'm dealing with a gorgeous woman, or a woman I want to fuck."
"New York is full of gorgeous women."
"But there's only one Indigo Simms."
Do I mean that much to him? It's hard to believe.
But he did offer me ten million dollars.
And we do understand each other. We do have something special. Even if it isn't love.
He continues, "Negotiation is an exchange of power. It's never clear to all sides exactly how much anyone has. Even if everything is in the open. Say, I'm investing in a company. One with a set valuation. Other investors bought in at six million dollars. I have the opportunity to buy twenty percent. It should be easy math. Twenty percent of six million. One point two."
"You buy at one point two or you don't?"
"In theory. But what if the owner needs the money now? What if she can't risk a no? What if the company is the only one that will do?"
He's talking about us.
"No one can say what that's worth," he says. "No one can say who has the upper hand. And there's always the human factor. Something a person cares about more than money."
"And you exploit it?"
He dips the corner of his toast in egg yolk. No hot sauce. Just the perfect square half piece of toast and yolk. "I use leverage to get what I want."
"And us… this is an exchange of power."
"Yes. But I don't take it. You give it to me."
My breath catches in my throat.
"You're waiting. Because I asked you to wait. Because I say when I'll fuck you." His posture shifts. Into that other Ty. The ruthless man who gets exactly what he wants. "And you're waiting because you want to wait. You want to be under my control."
"Yes."
"Now?" His voice isn't a dare. It's an honest question.
And it's up to me to answer.
Am I ready to be completely under his control?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Indigo
"Yes," I breathe. "Now. Please."
He watches me for a moment, then he nods with understanding.
His posture shifts.
That other Ty.
The one who revels in every ounce of his power.
His voice drops. "Come here."
I move around the table.
He turns his chair so he's facing me. Then he beckons me with his first two fingers.
I move closer.
His hands go to my hips. He pulls me into his lap, so I'm straddling him, my legs around his thighs, my feet on the floor.
He brings one hand to my cheek. Pulls me into a slow, deep kiss.
Soft for a moment.
Then hard.
His hand trails down my neck. Slowly, he traces the neckline of my pajama top.
Slowly, he undoes the first button.
The second.
The third.
The last.
The sides fall open, revealing my breasts, leaving me topless in his lap.
He kisses his way down my neck. Over my chest.
