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With a glare, I lean forward to catch the straw between my lips. Once I start drinking, I can’t stop. I drain the bottle in a few seconds.
Luca nods appreciatively at the empty bottle.
“Good girl,” he says, tossing the bottle away in a wastebasket. “I like you like that, Lynch.”
“What—drugged and handcuffed?”
He smirks. “Compliant.”
“What’s the point in hunting me if I’m compliant?” I shake my head at him. “If you just wanted to molest someone who can’t fight back, you could have just stuck to the women at your club.”
“The hunt hasn’t started yet.” He shows me his watch, which reads twenty past eleven. “It’s still the fourteenth.” He tugs on the collar of my red dress, peering at my breasts, which are bare under the smooth fabric. “This what you were planning to wear, Lynch? No underwear? Are you not worried you might send the wrong message?”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Do Ilooklike I’m dressed for a hunt? You fucking idiot. I had a hot date, which I’ve now missed because of you.”
He’s silent for a moment. At first, I think he’s surprised at the anger in my tone, but then he repeats in a dull, dumbfounded tone, “Adate?”
I give him a look like he’s stupid—since he is. “It’sValentine’sDay?”
“You have aboyfriend?”
The naked incredulity in his voice would be insulting if I didn’t find the concept of a boyfriend so offensive to begin with.
“Of course not. How naive of you, Luca. Some of us adults sometimes have sex with people we’renotin a relationshipwith.” I smirk at him. “Your mummy never told you aboutfucking around?”
“Did yours teach you to fuck anything that moves?”
“Clearly not, Luca, sinceyouremain patheticallyunfucked.”
Luca’s eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in the arctic grey. Grabbing the back of my chair, he drags it closer to the bed and sits on the edge, facing me as he reaches into his pocket.
He pulls out my phone and swipes it open, holding it up in front of my face as if to unlock it. I shake my head with a triumphant grin.
“Try again. It’s password-locked.”
He shrugs, types something, and then there’s the unmistakable sound of my phone unlocking. My blood runs cold. For the first time, I’m shaken enough to need a moment to compose myself.
It’s not that I’m angry or afraid; it’s not even the cold sensation of having my privacy violated. What affects me the most is that he managed to break into my phone before I could break into his office. I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t already so annoyed at having missed my date.
Luca drops back on his bed, leaning on one elbow as he goes through my phone with perfect impunity. I don’t bother making any comments. Eyes on my screen, he says, “What an interesting camera roll, Lynch.”
My camera roll is a carnival of fun—none of it meant for him. I smile at him.
“Sorry that the only naked woman you’re used to seeing is your mum.”
“Let’s remedy that, shall we? I’m sure you won’t mind if I send some of those to myself.” He scrolls through my phone and looks up. “You don’t have my number?”
“Why would I need it?”
“No point in wasting all these slutty selfies, Lynch. I’ll give you the attention you clearly never got from a father figure.”
I smirk at him, ignoring his attempt at an insult. “Trust me, Luca, my selfies areneverwasted.”
“No? Who are you sending them to?” He glances up at me before reading out loud some of the names on my contact list. “Paul, in parenthesis, Goldman Sachs Fuckwit, or Rasheed, in parenthesis, Financier Dick?”
“Jealous, Luca?” I ask lightly.
