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Had he not been so serious, I would’ve laughed. I stared down at the files. It felt like we were always playing a game with each other. Smiling, I lifted a hand, moving it toward the blue file. However, he grabbed it and interlocked his fingers with mine. I shivered, remembering how skilled those hands were.
“I thought it was my choice?”
“It is, but it’s only fair you understand everything that comes with the red file before making your decision. You already know what the blue file means, don’t you?”
“Didn’t you show me that last night?”
A wicked grin spread across his lips, and for what had to be the millionth time, I couldn’t look away from him. “Last night was just the beginning of your life as my lover. There is also the possibility of you as my employee. You have true talent, Ms. Harper, and in a city filled with pseudo-talent, it’s my job to know the difference.”
My heart was beating faster. I pulled my hand away, picked up both files, and hugged them to my chest.
“Fine. Show me.”
Standing, he pulled out his wallet. He reached for the hundred before taking the fifty and dropping it on the table.
“I don’t want to be showy.” He winked at me.
Laughing, I took off my apron and waved to Rosemary as we left. His driver held open the door for us before getting in the Mercedes.
He didn’t say anything and neither did I, but my mind and heart were racing. What was worse was knowing how excited I was for this. Despite his wealth and demeanor, I wasn’t intimidated by him. You needed to have thick skin to live in this city. He affected a much more lustful side of me, and he knew it too.
Finally, he spoke. “Why did you cry?”
“What?”
“Last night… this morning… as you wrote the piece. Why did you cry?”
Looking away, I didn’t answer. I powered down the window, stuck my hand out, and enjoyed the warmth of the breeze on my skin.
2:34 p.m.
“Welcome, Mr. Darcy,” a woman with dark brown hair and glasses said from behind the reception desk as we stepped into the building. She looked me over, confused, and didn’t greet me.
He nodded to her and everyone else that stopped what they were doing as we walked by to say “Welcome, Mr. Darcy.” Or “Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy.” Or “Have a nice day, Mr. Darcy.” All of them gave me a variation of looks: confusion, jealously, intrigue, and lust. That last one he must have noticed, because he looked directly at one man who came up beside me for the elevator and gave me a small grin. The moment the poor
guy realized who was beside him, his eyes widened and he gave an awkward smile before turning away.
“I’m not yours yet,” I said when we were alone in the elevator. Oddly, he pressed the bottom floor. I’d thought we were going to his office.
“You are mine,” he whispered behind me, grasping my waist and gently pulling me against him. He undid the top button of my shirt. “And I can prove it.”
“And here I thought I was here to make that choice….”
“Your choice is to see if you want to keep being mine, Felicity.” He kissed my temple and squeezed my ass as the doors opened. Without another word, he walked out and left me to fix the top of my shirt. It hid the hickeys well enough, but my nipples, which were now hard, were another story.
Damn him.
I crossed my arms and followed him down the marble-floored corridor. The walls were covered in a dark wood paneling and, because of the angle of the lights, seemed to glow gold. He opened a door, and we entered a large studio hall. Several dancers stood before one man with dark brown hair pulled into a small bun. I assumed he was the choreographer, even though he only looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties. The dancers were so focused on him that not one of them gave Theo a second look.
“Come on,” he said to me.
I hadn’t even realized I had stopped walking. Following him toward the viewing chairs set up next to a recording table, I noticed the speakers were facing away from us. A pretty blonde with green eyes sat behind it. She smiled brightly at Theo and gave me a look. He nodded to her like they were having a mental conversation. When she looked at me once more, she grinned and gave me a thumbs-up before focusing on her work.
“Who is that?”
“My sister in-law, Tori,” he said.
“I don’t understand. Why am I here?” I whispered.
