The Ultimate Playboy

Chapter FIVE


RUBY WOKE WITH the distinct feeling that something had changed. It took a millisecond to realise what that something was.

‘You took my clothes off?’ she screeched, her fingers flying to the hem of the black T-shirt that had miraculously appeared on her body.

The man who lay so languidly beside her, his head propped up on his hand, nodded.

‘I feared you’d suffocate in your sleep in that dress. Despite your dubious reasons for being here, even I would find it difficult to explain death by designer gown to the authorities. You were quite co-operative. I think it was the only time you’ve been co-operative since we reached my suite, which tells me you were as uncomfortable as I suspected.’

She licked her lips and struggled not to squirm under his scrutiny. At least her bra and panties were intact. But the fact was she didn’t recall what had happened. And there was only one worrying explanation for that. ‘I was tired,’ she bluffed.

‘Right.’ Silver eyes bore into her until she felt like a fly hooked on a pin.

His gaze dropped to her twisting fingers, and she abruptly stilled the movement. ‘Tell me what happened. Exactly.’

One brow rose at her firm directive but Ruby was desperate to know what had happened during the night. She’d tossed and turned in agitation until sheer exhaustion had finally pulled her under some time before dawn.

‘You tried to escape a few times. I brought you back to bed.’

God. No. It’d happened again...

Definitely time to leave. She tried to move, and felt a snag on her foot. Shoving aside tangled sheets, she stared in horror at the rope tied around her ankle.

‘You tied me up again! Do you have a thing for bondage?’

His eyes gleamed. ‘Until last night, I’d never needed to tie a woman to keep her with me.’

‘Oh, well, lucky me. Did you tie me before or after you took off my dress?’

‘After the second time you tried to take the door off its hinges to make your escape, we came back here and I relieved you of your suicidal gown and put the T-shirt on—’ A deep frown slashed his face. ‘Are you saying you don’t remember any of this?’

She sucked in a slow breath and looked away.

He caught her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him, his steady gaze demanding an answer. ‘Dio, you really don’t remember?’

Ruby had no choice but to come clean. ‘No. sometimes I...sleepwalk.’

His brows hit his hairline. ‘You sleepwalk? How often is sometimes?’

‘Not for a while, to my knowledge. It only happens when I’m...distressed.’

His frown intensified. ‘You found last night distressing?’

‘Being tied up and kept prisoner? No, that was a picnic in the park.’ She tugged at her ankle restraint. ‘And now I’m tied up again.’

‘It was for your own good. After I put the restraint on, you stopped making a run for it. I think secretly you liked it.’ His fingers caressed along her jaw, his eyes lowering to her lips.

Instantly the mood changed, thickened with sensual promise. ‘I’m not into bondage.’ Or sex with playboys, or anyone for that matter!

‘How do you know? Have you ever tried it?’

‘No. But I’ve never jumped off a cliff either, and I’m certain I wouldn’t enjoy that experience.’

‘Fair point. For the record, I have. With the right equipment, all experiences can be extremely enjoyable. Exhilarating even.’

She watched, terrified and mesmerised, as his head started to lower. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m kissing you bon giornu, bedda. Relax.’

That was easier said than done when every nerve in her body was strained in anticipation of the touch of his mouth on hers. She told herself she was sluggish because she was sleep deprived. But it was a lie.


As much as she yearned to deny it, she wanted the pressure of his demanding kiss and the heady racing of her blood through her veins.

His moan as he deepened the kiss echoed the piercing need inside her.

One hand clamped on her hip, drew her sideways into him. At the sensation of his sleep-warmed body against hers, she moaned. The fact that she was clothed from neck to hip and he was clothed from hip to ankle didn’t alter the stormy sensation of their bodies meshing together.

Nipples, stung to life at the touch of his mouth on hers, peaked and ached as they brushed his chest.

When his hand moved under the T-shirt and skimmed over her panties, Ruby jerked at the vicious punch of desire that threatened to flatten her.

She was drowning. And she didn’t want to be rescued.

‘Dio mio, you’re addictive, bedda,’ he murmured against her mouth before plunging back in. His tongue shot between her lips to slide against hers. He staked his claim on her until she couldn’t think straight. Even when his mouth left hers to nibble along her jaw, she strained closer, her hand sliding up his chest in a bold caress that shocked and thrilled her at the same time.

When her nail grazed his nipple, he hissed. Stunned at the surge of power that action gave her, she flicked her nail again.

‘Careful, amante, or I might have to repay the kindness.’

Lost in a swirl of desire, she barely heeded the warning. Bringing up her other hand between them, she flicked both flat nipples at once.

‘Maledizione!’ He pushed her back onto the bed and yanked up her T-shirt.

Danger shrieked in her head a second before his mouth closed over her nipple. Tonguing, licking, he pulled the willing flesh deep into his mouth.

Sensation as she’d never felt before tore through her. Between her legs where her need burned fiercest, liquid heat fuelled her raging desire.

Her fingers curled up and spiked into his hair as he transferred his attention to her other nipple. A little rougher than before, he used his teeth this time.

Her tiny scream echoed through the bedroom as her head slammed back against the pillow.

Feeling his thick arousal against her thigh, she moved her leg, eager to rub closer against the potent evidence of his need.

The snap of the ankle rope broke through her haze. The reality of what she was doing hit Ruby with the force of a two-by-four.

‘No!’ She pushed at his shoulders until he lifted his head. The sight of her nipples, reddened and wet from his ministrations, made dismay slither through her in equal measures. She was nothing like her parents. Nothing—

‘What’s wrong, bedda?’ he grated huskily.

‘What’s wrong? Everything!’

‘Everything is a huge undertaking. Narrow it down for me a little. I’ll take care of it.’

She pushed harder. ‘For a start. Get. Off. Me.’

His nostrils flared with displeasure and his fingers bit into her hip. ‘You were moaning your willingness a moment ago.’

‘Thankfully, I’ve come to my senses. Get off me and take off that...shackle you’ve placed on my ankle.’

He slowly levered himself off her but not before she got another sensation of his thick arousal. Flames rushed up her cheeks.

Back in his previous position, he dropped his gaze from hers to her breasts. Realising she was still exposed, she yanked her bra cups into place and tugged down the T-shirt. A T-shirt that bore his unique scent, which chose that moment to wash over her again. As if she weren’t suffering enough.

‘I don’t like women who blow hot and cold, tesoro.’

‘Where I come from a woman still has the right to say no.’

‘A stance I fully respect. Except your actions and your words are at direct variance with each other. You crave me almost as much as I crave you. I can only conclude that this is a ploy to string me along until I’m too whipped to put up much protest against your demands.’

Again his description of her behaviour struck painfully close to the bone, pushing all her fears to the fore. Struggling to hide it, she raised an eyebrow.

‘Wow, you really have a low opinion of yourself, don’t you? Or is that a high opinion on my sexual prowess?’

‘Unlike you, I’m not afraid to admit my desire for you. It’s almost enough to tempt me to tell you to name your price so we can be done with this...aperitivo and get to the main course.’ There was a hard bite to his voice that instinctively warned her to do that would be a mistake.

‘I only want you to hear me out. You said we’d talk this morning.’

He got up from the bed in a sleek, graceful move that brought to mind a jungle creature.

The unmistakable evidence of his arousal when he faced her made her swallow. He showed no embarrassment in his blatant display of manhood. Even in thwarted desire, Narciso Valentino wore his male confidence with envy-inducing ease. Whereas she remained cowering beneath the sheets, afraid of the sensual waves threatening to drown her.

‘And so we will. Come through to the kitchen. Caffeine is a poor substitute for sex but it’ll have to do.’ With that pithy pronouncement, he walked out of the bedroom.

She lay there, floundering in a sea of panic and confusion. If anyone had told her she’d be in Narciso Valentino’s bed mere hours after meeting him, she’d have laughed herself hoarse. Particularly since she’d vowed never to mix business with pleasure after what had happened with Simon.

But what Narciso had roused in her just now had frightened and excited her. Kissing him had been holding a live, dangerous firework in the palm of her hand. She hadn’t been sure whether she would experience the most spectacular show of lights or blow herself to smithereens with it.

And yet she’d been almost desolate when the kiss ended. Which showed how badly things could get out of hand.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she counted to ten. The earlier she finished her business with Narciso and got on the plane back to New York, the better.

Throwing off the sheet, she glanced at the velvet rope around her ankle. Twisting her body into the appropriate position, she tugged on the double knot, surprised when it came loose easily.

Again, the realisation that she could’ve freed herself at any time made her view of him alter a little. Her fingers lingered on the rope warmed from her body.

Bondage sex. Until now, the scenario had never even crossed her mind. But suddenly, the thought of being tied down while Narciso laid her inhibitions to waste took up centre stage in her mind.

Heat flaming her whole body, she jumped from the bed. Upright, his T-shirt reached well past her knees, and covered her arms to her elbows.

She glanced at her gown, laid carefully over the arm of the chaise longue, and made up her mind. She would dress after they’d had their talk. She couldn’t bear being restrained in the too-tight dress just yet. Ditto for her heels.

Stilettos and a T-shirt in the presence of a dangerously sexual man like Narciso Valentino evoked an image she didn’t want to tempt into life now, or ever.

For some reason, her body turned him on. She wasn’t stupid enough to bait the lion more than he was already baited.

Barefoot, she left the bedroom and went in search of the kitchen.

He stood at a centre island in a kitchen that made the chef in her want to weep with envy. State-of-the-art equipment lined the surfaces and walls and through a short alcove a floor-to-ceiling wine rack displayed exquisite vintages.

‘You get all this for a two-day stay?’

He jerked at her question. Before he could cover his emotions, Ruby glimpsed a painfully bleak look in his eyes.


A second later, the look was gone as he shrugged. ‘It suits my needs.’

‘Your needs... I’d kill for a kitchen like this in my restaurant.’

‘You own a restaurant?’ he asked.

She concluded her survey of the appliances and faced him. ‘Not yet. I would’ve been on my way to opening Dolce Italia by now if NMC had honoured its commitments.’

‘Ah, the sins of imaginary corporate sharks.’

The coffee machine finished going through its wake-up motions. He pressed a button and the beans started to churn.

‘Not imaginary.’ Ruby stepped forward when she realised what he was doing. ‘Wait, you’re doing it wrong. We’re in a warm climate. The coffee beans expand in warm weather so you need to grind them looser to extract the maximum taste. Here let me do it.’ Even though stepping closer would bring her dangerously close to his sleek frame, she seized the opportunity to make herself useful and not just stare at his broad, naked back. A back she could suddenly picture herself clawing in the heat of desire.

Just as she tried not to stare when he leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his bare chest.

‘How are you at multitasking?’ he asked.

‘It’s essential in my line of business.’ Content with the setting, she pressed the button to resume the grinding and went to the fridge. She grabbed the creamer, and forced herself not to gape at the mouth-watering ingredients in there.

‘Good, then you can talk while you prepare the coffee. Tell me everything I need to know.’ His brisk tone was all business.

Quickly, she summarised the events of the past two months.

‘So you entered this competition as a chef?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I have a degree in hospitality management and a diploma in gourmet cuisine and I’m an approved board-certified mixologist.’

He grinned. ‘You have to go to college to mix drinks?’

‘You have to go to school to wash dishes right these days or someone will sue your ass.’ She started to grin, then stopped herself. ‘I mean...if you don’t want to be sued for accidentally poisoning someone. Besides, I plan to make my cocktail bar accessible to allergy-sufferers, too, so I need to know what I’m doing.’

‘Which of your drinks is your favourite?’ he fired back.

The question threw her for a second. Then she shrugged. ‘They’re all my favourite.’

‘Describe the taste of your signature drink,’ he pressed.

She went in search of coffee cups, opening several cabinets before she located them. She had to reach up to grab them and the cool air that passed over the backs of her legs reminded her how exposed she was.

‘Umm, I don’t actually like cocktails that much,’ she blurted to distract herself from her state of undress.

‘You’re a mixologist who doesn’t like her own creations? How do you know you’re not poisoning the general population?’

‘Because nobody’s died yet sampling my drinks. And as to how I know my drinks rock? I try them out on my roommate.’

‘You want me to invest...how much does my company owe you?’

‘Two hundred thousand dollars to help towards construction and advertising costs for Dolce Italia.’

‘Right, two hundred thousand dollars, based on your roommate’s assessment of your talent?’

She poured and passed him a cup, forcing herself not to react to the spark of electricity when their fingers brushed. ‘You threw away thirty million last night without blinking but you’re grilling me over two hundred thousand?’

He stiffened. ‘That was different.’ His voice held icy warning.

She heeded it. ‘Anyway,’ she hurried on, ‘thousands of people voted for me to win your show based on three of my best dishes and cocktails.’

His gaze drifted over her, lingered at her breasts then down her legs before he came back to her face. ‘Are you sure that’s the only reason they voted?’

The sudden tremble in her fingers made her set the cup down. ‘You’re an ass for making that inference.’ Again, much too close to home. Too many times her mother had been ridiculed for using her sexuality to boost ratings, a fact Ruby had burned with humiliation for every single time.

‘What inference?’ he asked with a sly grin.

‘The stupid sexist one you’re making. Are you saying they voted for me because I have boobs?’ Her rough accusation finally got his attention. The smile slid from his face but not the stark hunger in his eyes.

‘Very nice ones.’

Despite her annoyance, heat rushed through her. ‘Yeah, well, two of the other contestants had boobs, too.’

‘I have no interest in theirs,’ he returned blandly.

She picked up her cup and started to blow on her coffee, noticed his intense gaze on her mouth and thought better of it. ‘Are you really that shallow?’

‘Sì, I am.’

‘No, you’re not.’

‘You wound me.’

‘You wound yourself. You’re clearly intelligent—’

‘Grazie—’

‘Or you wouldn’t be worth billions. I fail to see why you feel the need to add this to the equation.’

‘Tell me, sweet Ruby, why is it sexist to state that I appreciate an attractive body when I see it?’

Her mouth tightened. ‘It’s sexist when you imply I got where I am by flaunting it when you couldn’t be more wrong.’

‘Point taken.’ He said nothing further.

‘Is that supposed to be an apology?’

‘Yes, I apologise unreservedly for making observations about your body.’

‘That’s almost as bad as saying “I apologise if your feelings are hurt” instead of “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings”.’

‘Let’s not dwell on the pedantic. You have my unreserved apologies.’ His gaze was steady and clear.

Ruby chose to believe he meant it. ‘Thank you.’

‘Good. I tried to reach Stone. I’ve been informed he’s on vacation and can’t be reached.’

She took a huge gulp of coffee and nearly groaned at the superb taste. Then his words broke through. ‘Right. I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.’

The seriously gorgeous grin returned. ‘I know, and I’m very grateful for that.’

‘Get to the point, please.’

‘Stone is trekking in the Amazon for the next three weeks.’

Alarm skated through her. ‘I can’t wait another three weeks. I’ll lose everything I’ve poured into getting the restaurant off the ground so far.’

‘Which is what exactly?’

‘Simon secured the rent but I put up my own money for the conversion of the space and the catering equipment.’

He froze. ‘Who is Simon?’ he asked in a silky tone threaded with steel.

‘My ex-business partner.’

‘Enlighten me why he’s your ex,’ he said in that abrupt, imperious way she’d come to expect.

The ache from Simon’s betrayal flared anew. ‘We didn’t see eye to eye so we parted ways.’

Narciso’s eyes narrowed. ‘Was he your lover?’

She hesitated. ‘Almost,’ she finally admitted. ‘We met in college, but lost touch for a while. A year ago we met again in New York. I told him about opening my restaurant and he offered to become my partner. We got close...’

He tensed. ‘But?’

‘But he neglected to tell me he had a pregnant wife at home and...I almost slept with him. He almost made me an accomplice in his infidelity.’ The thought sent cold anger through her.


‘How did you find out?’

Her hand tightened around her coffee cup. ‘We were on our way to Connecticut for a romantic getaway when his wife called to say she’d gone into labour. I trusted him, and he turned out to be no better than...’ She shook her head angrily and jumped when his fingers touched hers. Looking up, her eyes connected with his surprisingly gentle ones.

‘I think you’ll agree he takes the douche-bag crown, no?’

She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Yes.’

He remained silent for several minutes, then he drained his cup. ‘So my company’s contribution is to help finish your restaurant?’

‘That and the advertising costs for the first six months.’

‘Do you have any paperwork?’

‘Not with me, no. I couldn’t exactly bring a briefcase to the job last night. But Nigel can prove it...’

‘I’m taking over from Nigel,’ he said abruptly.

‘Excuse me?’

He set his cup down. ‘As of now, I’ve relieved him of his duty to you. You’ll now deal with me and me alone.’

That felt a little too...sudden... Ruby assured herself it was the reason why her heartbeat had suddenly escalated. She refused to let hope rise until she’d read the small print in his words. ‘So...you’ll sign over what NMC promised me?’

His eyes gleamed as he regarded her. ‘Eventually,’ he said lazily.

‘Ah, there it is. The big, fat catch. What does eventually mean?’ she demanded.

‘I need proof that you’re as good as you say you are. I don’t endorse mediocre ventures.’

‘Wow, are you always this insulting in the morning?’

‘Sexual frustration doesn’t sit well with any man, amante, least of all me.’

‘And you think bringing your sexual frustration into a business discussion is appropriate?’

Silver eyes impaled her where she stood. ‘You followed me thousands of miles and inveigled yourself into my company under false pretenses. You wish to discuss who holds the monopoly on what’s appropriate right now?’

‘What other choice did I have? I couldn’t lose everything I’ve worked for because your employee is chasing orangutans in the Amazon.’

‘I may be way off the mark but I don’t think there are any orangutans in the Amazon. Borneo, on the other hand—’

‘I didn’t mean it literally. I meant...’ She sighed. ‘Bottom line is, NMC agreed to help me launch my business and it’s reneging on the deal.’

‘And I’m giving you a chance to get things back on track.’

‘By making me jump through even more hoops?’

‘I employ the best people. There must be a reason why Stone delayed in honouring the agreement.’

‘And you think the fault is mine?’ Irritation bristled under her skin. He stood there, arrogant and nonchalant as she flailed against the emotional and professional sands shifting under her feet.

‘I’m trying to meet you in the middle.’

‘All you have to do is review the show’s footage. There were world-renowned food critics who judged my cuisine and cocktails the best. I won fair and square.’

‘So you keep saying. And yet I’m wondering if there’s something else going on here. If everything was above board, why didn’t you use lawyers to hold my company to account? Why the very personal touch?’

‘I don’t have the kind of money it takes to involve lawyers. Besides, I was hoping you’d be reasonable.’

He moved towards her, his gaze pinned on her face. Danger blazed from his eyes. Along with hunger, passion and a need to win at all costs.

Her heart hammered as she forced herself to return his stare.

‘You lied in order to get close to me. And you continued to lie until we were alone together. Having caught a glimpse of who I am, Ruby, how reasonable do you think I am?’ His tone was silky soft, but she wasn’t fooled. Underneath the lethally thrilling charm and the man who’d shown a surprising gentle side moments ago lay a ruthless mogul who ate amateurs for breakfast.

During her internet trawl she’d come across his moniker—The Warlock of Wall Street.

It took a special kind of genius to reach multibillionaire status by twenty-five and even more to attain the kind of wealth and influence Narciso Valentino wielded by his thirtieth birthday. If she didn’t tread carefully, she’d leave Macau the same way she’d arrived—with nothing.

‘I’m not unwilling to renegotiate our terms, Mr Valentino...’ she ventured.

‘I’ve had my mouth on parts of your body that I believe have earned me the right to hear you say my first name.’

Her blush was fierce and horrifyingly embarrassing. ‘Fine! You can have thirty per cent,’ she blurted.

His eyebrows shot up. ‘Thirty per cent of your body?’

‘What are you talking about? God, you think I’m renegotiating with my body?’ She gasped in shocked horror. ‘I’ll have you know that I’d rather die than do something like that!’

His discomfiture was evident as he slowly straightened and spiked a hand through his hair. ‘I’m...sorry,’ he murmured.

A touch of warmth dispelled the ice. ‘Apology accepted.’

‘Per favore, enlighten me as to what you meant.’

‘Part of the deal for winning was that you’d help with the cash prize and advertising and I’d give you a twenty-five-per-cent share in my business for the first three years. After that I’d have the option to buy it back from you. I’m willing to go up to thirty per cent.’

His shook his head. ‘I have a new proposal for you. Agree to it and you can keep your extra five per cent.’

‘Do I have a choice?’

‘There’s always a choice, cara.’

‘Okay, let’s hear it.’

‘Convince me of your talent. If you’re good enough, I’ll hire you to cater my upcoming VIP party. If you’re better than good, I’ll recommend you to a few people. Now, the only thing you need to decide is if it’s a choice you wish for yourself.’

‘But I’ve already proved I deserve this by winning the show.’

‘Then this should be a doozy.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you agree to my terms?’

The sense of injustice burned within her, the need to stand her ground and demand her due strong.

But from what she’d seen of him so far he could destroy her just as easily as he’d offered to help her. He’d rightly pointed out that she’d sought him out under false pretences. She should be thanking her lucky stars he hadn’t turned her over to the security guards.

The small print in her Petit Q contract had warned of serious repercussions if she breached confidentiality or behaved inappropriately towards a Q Virtus member.

So far she’d breached several of those guidelines. It was therefore in her interest to stay on the right side of Narciso Valentino.

If he could throw away thirty million dollars with the careless flick of those elegant fingers, surely it was worth her while to endure this small sacrifice to prove herself to Narciso. Getting her restaurant opening back on track would also send her parents the message once and for all that she had no intention of bowing to their pressure to join the family business.

She sucked in a breath, which hopelessly stalled when his eyes darkened. ‘Yes, I agree to your terms.’

He didn’t move. He just stood there staring at her. Ruby had the weird sensation he was weighing her up, judging her...


Unable to stand his stare, she started to turn away. His eyes dropped to her bare legs, heat flaring in his gaze. The power of it was so forceful she took a step back. Then another.

‘Stop,’ he rasped.

‘Why?’

‘I need you.’

Her heart hammered. ‘What?’

His nostrils flared as he reached and captured her arm. Strong fingers slid down her elbow to her wrist. Ruby’s pulse raced harder under the pressure of his fingers as he raised her right arm.

The electronic beep as he activated the smartwatch on her wrist knocked her out of her lust haze. Biting the inside of her cheek to bring her down to reality worked for a few seconds, until he started to speak.

Sicilian wasn’t in any way similar to the language she’d learnt growing up, but she managed to pick up a few words that had her frowning.

‘You’re not returning to New York?’

‘Not yet. My plan was to take a long-needed vacation after Macau.’

Her heart sank. ‘So I still have to wait until you come to New York to finalise this agreement.’

‘Not at all, Ruby. I leave for Belize tonight. And you’re coming with me.’

* * *

The sight of her open-mouthed was almost amusing. Almost. Had he not been caught up in the maelstrom of severely thwarted desire, Narciso would’ve laughed at her expression. As it was, he couldn’t see beyond the need to experience again the sensational taste of those lips.

Pure sin. Wrapped in sweet, angelic deliciousness.

He’d never kissed lips like hers. Or tasted nipples like hers. In fact, so far Ruby Trevelli was proving disconcertingly unique in all aspects. Even the confession of her bastard of an ex’s betrayal had touched him in a way he most definitely did not desire.

The flash of pain he’d seen had made his insides clench with an alien emotion that had set even more alarm bells clanging.

He hadn’t intended to go to Belize till after the party he’d planned for when his Russian deal was completed.

But he was nothing if not adaptable.

‘Belize?’ Astonishment blazed from her stunning blue eyes.

‘Yes. I have a yacht moored there. We’ll sail around along the coast, dive in the Blue Hole. And in between, you’ll stun me with your culinary delights. But be warned, nothing short of perfection will satisfy me.’

‘I’ve never provided anything short of that. But...’ She hesitated, again displaying that reticence he’d sensed in her earlier. If she wanted to play hard to get, she was going about it the right way. He wanted her...hard. But he was no pushover.

‘But what?’

‘We need to agree on one thing.’ Her pulse throbbed under his thumb. He wanted to stop himself from caressing the silky, delicate skin but he couldn’t help himself.

‘Sì?’

‘From now on things remain strictly business between us. The next time we have a discussion, I’d rather do it without the need for ropes.’

The hard tug of arousal the image brought almost made him groan out loud. ‘I guarantee you, amante, the next time I tie you up, it’ll be because you beg me to.’

She snatched her wrist from his grasp.

‘Okay. And Superman rides on a unicorn, right?’

‘I have no idea about that. Ropes, on the other hand—’

‘Will play no part in our interaction for the duration I’m to prove myself to you. Unless, of course, you’re bringing your girlfriend along. In which case, what you get up to with her is your business.’

Irritation fizzed inside him. Having the attraction he knew she reciprocated dismissed so casually stuck like a barb under his skin. ‘I’m currently unattached. But I don’t think I’ll stay that way for much longer,’ he said.

Her eyes widened but her lips pursed. Again arousal bit deep.

Suddenly, he wanted to leave Macau. Wanted to be alone with her so he could probe her deeper. The double entendre brought a grim smile.

Veering away from her, he stalked out of the kitchen.

The case he’d asked his personal butler to fetch was standing by the sofa in the living room. She spotted it the same time he did.

‘You had my things removed from my room?’ The incredulity in her voice amused and irritated him at once.

‘I don’t believe in wasting time when my mind is made up.’

‘And what about my mind? You didn’t know what choice I would make!’

‘That’s where you’re wrong. I did. I’m very familiar with the concept of supply and demand. You want something only I can provide. You wanted it enough to hop on a plane on the strength of an eavesdropped conversation between complete strangers. I wagered on you being ambitious enough to agree to my demands.’

‘You make me sound so mercenary.’

‘On the contrary. I like a woman who states what she wants upfront. Subterfuge and false coyness are traits I actively despise.’

‘Somehow I don’t believe that.’

‘You think I like liars?’

Her gaze slid away. ‘I didn’t say that.’

He forced himself to turn away, resume his path towards his bathroom and another cold shower. Maledizione!

‘As for your case, I had it brought here to avoid any awkwardness. Or would you rather have answered questions as to why you’ve been absent from your duties for the last several hours?’

She groaned. ‘Oh, God! What will they think?’

‘They’ll think the obvious. But you’re with me, so no one will question you about it.’

‘I...I...’

‘The words you’re looking for are thank you. You can use the second bedroom suite to get ready. I have a brunch meeting in the Dragon Room in half an hour.’

‘And you want me to come with you?’

‘Of course. From here on in, you serve no one but me.’ His words echoed in his head and his fists clenched.

For the second time in less than ten minutes another unwanted emotion sideswiped him. Possessiveness.

Just as he’d trained himself not to trust, he’d trained himself not to become attached. Possessiveness suggested an attachment to something...someone.

Narciso didn’t do attachment. And yet—

‘What happens after your meeting?’

He forced nonchalance into his voice. ‘We return here to indulge in...whatever we please. Tomorrow when the lock down is lifted, we leave.’