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He slowly looked up, his gorgeous blue eyes meeting mine. He didn’t give me that smug smile that he wore when he won an argument. He held my gaze with pure sincerity, like those words meant something to him.
It was one of those rare times when I couldn’t handle his intense stare, so I looked down at my food, embarrassed I’d said something so pathetic. It was impossible for me not to feel attracted to a man who looked the way he did, a handsome face with a perfect body to boot. If he were a normal man I’d met at a bar, I’d probably be so hung up on him. I’d probably imagine our life together before our second date.
He finally turned his gaze back to his phone, giving me some reprieve from his suffocating presence.
I kept eating my salmon, enjoying the taste but not loving it. “So, can I expect to eat fish every day for breakfast?”
“Unless you cook something yourself.” He drank his coffee then licked his lips.
“You really eat this every day?” I asked incredulously. “What about your cheat day?”
He gave me a blank stare. “Does it look like I have cheat days?”
No. It looked like he did nothing but work out and drink protein smoothies. “Well, I can’t live like that. I need some pancakes and bacon once in a while. Some cereal too. Chips and salsa. Spaghetti. Not fish or chicken and veggies all the time.”
“Alright. Put it on the list on the fridge. My maid will pick it up for you.”
I forgot that he had someone that cleaned up the penthouse in the middle of the day. I’d never seen her. “What’s she like?”
“Who?”
“The maid.”
He shrugged. “She’s nice. I never see her.”
“How is that possible?”
“Because she purposely comes when I’m not here. I want this house clean and the fridge stocked, but I don’t want to make small talk with someone who works for me. When I’m home, I don’t want to be bothered.”
I shouldn’t be surprised by his cold attitude toward his need for solitude. “I’ll put it on the list, then.”
He finished his plate then drank his coffee slowly, leaning forward slightly, and his reflection was visible in the glass. The individual muscles of his back shifted and bunched at the slightest movement.
“So, what is your schedule?”
He stared at me blankly, like he had no idea what that meant.
“You work late at the casino sometimes, but then you’re up early every morning. I don’t get it.”
“I don’t sleep much,” he said simply. “I like to get my workouts done in the morning. If I don’t, I won’t complete them.”
He had more discipline than an Olympic athlete. “I hate working out.”
“You’re lucky you’re so damn beautiful that you don’t have to.”
“Like you aren’t,” I countered, shoving my foot into my mouth.
A smile crept over his lips.
I looked away, wishing I would just shut my mouth and be quiet.
2
Bosco
I sat in the back seat of the car while my driver took me to the casino. Carmen would be getting off work soon, but the crew of men I’d assigned to her would pick her up and take her back to my penthouse. If there was somewhere else she wanted to go, they would take her. If she wanted to go on a shopping spree with my cash, she could do that too.
Whatever she wanted.
When she saw those clothes in my closet, she became so angry. Visibly wounded and even a bit heartbroken, she died a little inside to think some other woman had my attention the way she did. She thought I had a more intense relationship with someone else, that I came inside a woman besides her. It ate her up inside, gnawed her to the bone.
It made me smile every time I thought about it.
She was jealous.
Out-of-her-mind kind of jealous.
Little did she know, I gave her size to my personal shopper and asked her to pick up cocktail dresses and gowns for her to wear to various events. I made appearances all over the city, not just at the casino.
And Carmen thought they belonged to someone else…cute.
Now, she was humbled by the truth, taking her hatred down a notch because of her humiliation. She seemed to open up to me a little more, trust me a lot more than she had before. Her mouth said things she regretted, that she thought I was a beautiful man.
I couldn’t stop smirking.
I kept my eyes out the window, thinking about the gorgeous woman who would be in my bed for the foreseeable future. She was complicated, deeply layered with so many different emotions that she was far from simple. That was why I found her fascinating—because she wasn’t brainless. Any other woman would have jumped for joy if I were obsessed with her like I was with Carmen. They would picture the life of power and luxury I could provide for them. They would make my properties into their castles. They would be proud of themselves for bagging a king.
