"Then warm it up," I said with feigned innocence. "Preferably with your hands. Or tuck it under your armpit."
His eyes narrowed slightly before a dangerous smile grazed his lips. "If I use my hands, Fiona… it won’t be for drinks." He drained the rest, set the glass down calmly. "I’ll get my things."
"You have things in your car?" I asked, my voice dripping with unmistakable surprise. Or maybe horror.
He turned toward the door, tossing a grin over his shoulder. "I’m always prepared."
I crossed my arms, tracking him with my eyes as he walked calmly to the door, opened it, and disappeared.
He returned moments later, a black duffel bag in one hand, his laptop in the other. I lingered in the kitchen for a beat, leaningagainst the edge of the counter, watching him with a frown as he strode purposefully into the bedroom, tossed the bag onto the bed, and unzipped it.
A quick glance at the contents was enough: toothbrush, towel, fresh clothes.
"That looks suspiciously organized," I remarked dryly, finally following him into the room.
"Of course it’s organized," he replied, sliding his suit pants off his hips and replacing them with black sweatpants. Then he grabbed a plain black T-shirt and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion.
I crossed my arms, studying him. "Does your perfectly timed maneuvering have anything to do with the fact that Carter suddenly had to fly to California?"
He stilled. Fingers still on the bag, movement frozen. Then he looked at me—with that expression he’d mastered: a mix of innocence, amusement, and ice-cold poker face.
"California?" He raised his brows. "Interesting. I have no idea where Carter is."
"Alessandro."
He sighed, allowing a thin, almost entertained smile as he adjusted the contents of the bag. "Fine," he conceded. "A mutual client has a major project in California. And if I have to work with him, it’ll be on my terms."
"By sending him across the country while you get comfortable here?"
He paused, shot me a brief glance—the corner of his mouth twitched. "Indirectly." Then he zipped the bag shut and stretched. "I left him the parts that need handling on-site. Nothing beyond his… limited comprehension."
I arched a brow. "While you fuck Carter’s girlfriend?"
He turned to face me fully. "Not yet. But if that’s what you want, let’s not waste time."
I shook my head, trying to ignore the familiar prickling his voice sent through my stomach. "How can anyone be so goddamn shameless?" I muttered—more to myself than to him.
"Shameless?" He shrugged, retrieving his laptop and charger from the bag. "I call it efficiency through foresight." His grin deepened as we returned to the living room.
I followed. The fabric of his black T-shirt stretched across his torso, and even in sweatpants, he looked like he could take someone down without breaking a sweat. He opened the laptop, typed something, then leaned back, studying me.
"A drink would be good."
"Oh?" I stared at him for a long moment before finding words. "What are you? A prince? I’m definitely not fetching you another one."
"I’m not a damn prince." A brief twitch at the corner of his mouth before he continued. "I’m the king."
I burst into laughter. "The king? Because you’re ruling my living room in sweatpants?" I pointed at the empty glass beside him. "You called my Scotch ‘ruined’ with a tone like I’d insulted a world religion."
"Scotch on ice is a crime against humanity." He said it dead serious.
"Exactly." I crossed my arms. "And that’s why the king serves himself from now on." I lifted my chin, eyes glinting. "And bring me a glass of water while you’re at it."
He paused mid-motion, the fridge door in hand, half-turning to shoot me a look over his shoulder. "Ah. So you want your guest to serve you?"
I shook my head, grinning. "Wrong. The unwanted guest invited himself in but apparently still enjoys royal courtesies." I leaned back, my voice laced with mockery. "I’m your queen. So go on—do your duty."
He let the fridge door swing shut slowly. With unhurried steps,he closed the distance, set the water on the table, then leaned down toward me. "Orders, hm? That turns me on." A slanting smile played on his lips. "But don’t get used to it. I’m a fucking ruthless king."
