He looks at me expectantly, so I just shrug. “I was thinking about taking you up on your offer.”
“Which one?”
“Donatella tells me your home in South Africa is gorgeous. If you’re going to avoid me for the entirety of my stay here, I think I’d prefer to be somewhere warmer.”
“You want to leave.” He gives me a blank, unreadable look.
“I want to uphold my end of the bargain without boring myself to death in the process.”
That part was, at the very least, true. Beyond reading and working out in the albeit very well-equipped gym, there had been very little to occupy my time.
“Is the house not to your liking?”
“It’s more an issue with the host, actually,” I bite back.
He starts at that, then smiles into his drink. “Ah.”
“I thought we might have come to an understanding the other day.”
“While I lay between your legs, you mean?”
I flush at the memory. “When I asked to be involved in your scheme against Claudio.”
“If memory serves, I agreed to involve you atmydiscretion.”
I narrow my eyes. “I see, so is hiding in your bedroom part of this scheme that I’m not allowed to know about?”
He says nothing to this, seemingly intent on ignoring me despite the fact I’m now looming over him.
Fine. If he’s going to act like a child, so will I. I reach over and snatch the glass from his hand. He watches me intently as I take a sip, then another, to settle my nerves. I don’t stop until it’s empty, and I slam it back down on the table before him.
He doesn’t flinch. He just stares at my mouth.
How can this man be so hot and cold with me? I thought he wanted to ignore me, to pretend what happened never did. But it's so hard to tell what he's thinking when he looks at me like that.
“Look.” I try to hold myself with as much dignity as I can. “I don’t care if you’re not…you know…”
“What?”
Fuck, he was really going to make me say it. “If you’re not looking for a relationship, that’s fine. I’d just rather know, either way.”
He blinks back at me. “You think this is casual for me?”
His words send a cold shiver across my skin. For a moment, I can almost pretend that he cares.
“You are the one who left. You are the one who avoided me all week. What else am I supposed to think?”
“Is that what you want? To be in a relationship with me?”
Under his icy gray eyes, I suddenly become aware of every insignificant movement I make—the rise and fall of my chest, my shuddering breaths.
I can’t discern a single thing he is thinking, and yet my body reacts almost instinctively to the intensity of that gaze.
“I…” I find speech escapes me when he looks at me like this. “I don’t know.”
“I recommend you don’t think on it.” He finally releases me with a small, flippant smile. “My line of work does not allow me the time required to fulfill such…duties.”
Right. Murderous billionaire Mafia don.
