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"I rest my case."
He brushes past me and heads toward his massive desk.
"What do you mean?" I follow him.
"Let’s cut the bullshit. You need this job to pay your rent." He slides into his armchair, his back straight. That soldierly poise of his hints at the strict control with which he lives his life. I can almost imagine him as a priest, at the pulpit, wearing the robes, standing upright and sermonizing to his congregation. None of which gives him the right to pass judgement on my life.
"Who told you that?" I jut out my chin. "It can’t be Gio, or any one of my friends, for that matter."
"Does it matter?"
"Did you overhear me talking to them? No, that can’t be. I know I tend to run my mouth, but no way, would I have turned to them for help."
"Why not?" There’s a note of curiosity in his voice, but the expression on his face is bored, like this entire conversation is a chore.
I stiffen. "Does it matter?"
A spark of something lights his eyes, but he extinguishes it quickly. "I didn’t get to be where I am in life without reading body-language. And yours indicated you were desperate at the event yesterday."
"I’m not desperate," I protest.
He stares at me steadily, and I hunch my shoulders. "Maybe, a little. No doubt, you saw me scarfing down the cupcakes at Gio’s wedding yesterday. But they were free, and I hadn’t eaten breakfast yesterday. Also, I ended up having ramen for dinner last night. Not that I'm—"
"Have you had breakfast today?"
I blink. "Why do you care?"
He continues to hold my gaze, and damn, I don’t stand a chance. Those tawny eyes of his bore into me, and I’m sure he can read my mind.
"I ate breakfast," I say in a firm voice. My stomach chooses that moment to rumble. The sound seems to echo in the room, and I flush.
Without breaking my gaze, he picks up his cell phone, presses a key, and holds it to his ear. "Send in lunch for me and Ms. Young." He places his phone down on the table, then points to the chair opposite him. "Sit." The light glistens off the watch on his wrist.
I shake my head. "No, thank you."
"We need to go over your duties."
"Still haven’t said I’m accepting the job."
His chest rises and falls. "I’m paying you £10,000 a month."
"What?" I squeak. "Why would you pay me that much?"
"Trust me, you’ll earn every penny." His lips curl.
I scowl. "I’m not going to sleep with you, if that’s what you’re after."
He looks me up and down. "No fear there. You’re not my type."
My jaw drops. "Were you born this rude?"
"No, it's a skill I've perfected over many years."
Wow, okay."If you’re going to be this obnoxious—"
"I haven’t even started, Ms. Young."
"Mira."
