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Felix’s eyes darken with anger, and for a moment, I’m afraid he will lash out at me.
But then, he steps back, his handsome face unreadable.
“You’re right,” he says, his voice calm and controlled. “I apologize for the confusion. I’m drawing out the final contract tonight, but while you live here, you will have all meals with me and keep me updated with our financial
holding systems. We will go to work together in the morning, but a car and driver will be allotted to you to bring you back since I often stay back late.”
“I don’t need you to allot me a car or a driver.”
“You are extremely trying, Emily. Take the fucking car.”
“No,” I say.
“Take it,” he insists. “Company policy. It’s a requirement for the job. Some days, you may be bringing back cash or sensitive data. It can’t be stolen. My drivers are also trained defense experts.”
“So am I,” I say.
“Oh, I’m aware,” he says, winking at me.
“I’ll never forget the night we met. You really took one out on him, didn’t you? That thief?”
I blush, for I’ll never forget how he took me right after.
“Come on down for dinner now,” he says.
“I’ll see you in five minutes,” I say.
“Don’t forget to put on a bra,” he says, clearly letting me know he can see what he can see.
“Get out,” I mutter.
He laughs and leaves.
I quickly slip on a bra before wearing a casual dress and going to the dining room.
The table is set, and the food smells heavenly. I sit across from Felix, who is already digging into his plate.
“How’s the food?” he asks, looking up at me.
“It’s delicious,” I reply and start eating.
We eat in silence for a while, the only sounds being the clinking of utensils and the occasional noise from the kitchen.
I can feel Felix’s eyes on me, watching my every move.
“Do you always eat like that?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence.
“Eat like what?” I ask, confused.
“Like you’re starving,” he says, his voice low and husky. “Like you’re afraid someone will take your food away.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, feeling the heat rise to my face.
“Relax,” he says, a smirk on his face. “I’m not going to take your food away. If anything, I want to give you more.”
I roll my eyes at him, but there’s no denying how his words make me feel - a mixture of desire and anxiety.
“Here,” he says, “try somecoq au vin,” he puts some on my plate.
