I stood frozen. Jethro had no wish to be here, especially with me. What the hell was going on? First my father pushed me on him, then Jethro barely tolerated my company. Am I that repulsive to the opposite sex?
“Wait,” I said. “Aren’t you going to ask what I want?”
Jethro raised an eyebrow. “No. Want to know why?”
I did. But I didn’t want to play his ridiculous game. I was tired, had been dumped via text, and not wanted even when I practically threw myself at him. The night had turned from promising to disastrous, and I wanted it over.
When I didn’t reply, Jethro waved his hand. “It doesn’t matter what you prefer in beverages. You only get one request and you got it. I’m here against my plans; therefore, you’ll drink what I give you.”
My mouth parted, amazement stealing my ability to shout the incomprehensible phrases jumbled inside. Seriously? Who was this man?
Jethro strode away, leaving me gawking at his powerful back dressed in an immaculate, tailored suit. He completely ignored me while he ordered.
Not wanting to stand like a dismissed damsel, I moved to the couch and sat in a cloud of midnight-galaxy material. The underwire and other tricks to keep my dress buoyant argued against sitting, but my feet breathed a sigh of gratefulness.
Jethro returned with two cups of coffee. Espresso. Tiny cups, no biscotti, or anything to prolong something he obviously didn’t want to do. Placing the hot drink in front of me on the low table, he sipped his own, glaring at me over the rim.
I broke eye contact, collecting the cup of black liquid. Truth be told, I hated coffee. I’d only suggested the café to delay whatever he’d planned that was so urgent. Maybe he was a publicist, there to show the tabloids I was passionate about living as well as fashion. If that was the case, shouldn’t he be nicer? Kinder?
Inhaling the strong caffeine, I pretended to sip while sneaking glimpses at the mystery beside me. Did it matter he was an arrogant arse who didn’t know the difference between cruel and polite? He had a killer body, distinguished good looks, and a presence that screamed domination in the bedroom. I could choose worse for a night of guilt-free sex.
Sitting taller, I said, “So…the thing I wanted to ask you…”
What are you doing? He’s not a nice person. And he’s got the patience of a Doberman.
Jethro clenched his jaw, swirling his coffee. “I won’t answer, do, or respond to any more requests. Drink your coffee. We’re running late.”
I ignored that. I adopted a ‘don’t ask about the future and why the almighty rush approach.’ Working on another approach, I tried to break the ice between us. “You seem to know my father. What obligations—”
“No questions.” Jethro tossed his head back, swallowing the double shot in one go. Licking his lips, he carefully placed his cup on the table, eyeing my untouched one.
The unease of why my father had permitted me to go out with such an insensitive bastard came back. I feared there was a lot I wasn’t aware of, drifting around like a hapless child while adults battled over my future.
Running a hand through his greying hair, Jethro suddenly shoved my overflowing skirts off the couch and slid closer. So close his body heat seared my naked arms, prickling me with intensity.
I gulped, curling my hands in my lap.
Jethro bristled. “Whatever you think you’re doing, it won’t work. I will neither make small talk nor enter into meaningful conversation. You request to visit a coffee shop, yet don’t touch what I bought you.” He sighed, tension tightening his eyes. “I’m done playing silly games. Tell me what I need to do to make you come without making a fuss, and I’ll do it.”
My heart stopped. Anxiety roared back into existence. Why had I thought I could seduce this man? I had no hope, especially when he was obviously pissed off rather than intrigued. Linking my fingers together, I said quietly, “Why would I make a fuss? Where exactly do you want to take me?”
Please say a hotel and admit your attitude is all an act. Please say my brother hired you to play the horrible arsehole only to sweep me off my feet in a night of escorted bliss.
I should’ve known better than to wish for such things.
Jethro frowned. “What did I just say? No questions.” Grabbing my wrist, he tugged me closer, crushing my dress between us. “I don’t have time for games. Tell me what you want.” His mouth was so close, his brooding temper filling a bubble around us.
My eyes dropped to his lips. All I could picture was one kiss. One beautifully gentle, romantic kiss that turned my insides molten and my mind to stars.
I breathed shallowly, unable to raise my gaze to his.
He half-smiled. “That’s what you want?”
I blinked, dispelling the haze of intoxication he’d placed me under. “I didn’t say anything.”
Letting my wrist go, he trailed his fingertips up my arm. I shivered, loving and hating his masterful touch. “You didn’t have to. I should’ve known this would happen.”