“Look at me when you speak to me.”
Tyrant much?I lift my gaze to meet his.“Apologies, my lord.”
“Do you speak or understand Korean?”
“I do,” I answer, in Korean.
“Of course you do,” he mutters, almost to himself.His eyes flick around the room, annoyed for reasons I can’t quite pin down, then settle back on me.“I have a dinner meeting tonight with South Korean associates.A potential partnership.Negotiations have been dragging on over a year.I want you to come with me.”
I arch a brow.“It’s highly unlikely that Korean businessmen conducting international deals don’t speak English.”
“I never said they didn’t.”He slides his hands into his pockets.“They like to mutter in their language, assuming I can’t understand.I want you to listen.Observe.Tell me afterward what they really said.”
“Maybe that’s why it’s taken a year to seal the deal.”I tsk under my breath.“You want their money but won’t even bother to learn their language.If I were them, I’d talk shit in front of you, too.”
His lips twitch into something akin to a smirk.“Good thing I’ve got a know-it-all little shit at my disposal now, huh?”He turns to leave, calling over his shoulder, “Villa parking lot.Nine sharp.That’snota request.”
And with that, he’s gone again.
~
LATER, BACK ATthe villa, I’m fresh off a sweaty tennis match with Luca—who, for the record, plays like a drunk octopus.Never again—when my phone chimes with a text:
Stefano:Make it 8:00.I don’t trust you to dress yourself.
Me:Yes, daddy.
Stefano:And don’t overwork those toys too much…
Me:You went through my package?!
Stefano:You’re smart enough to know every package delivered to you would be searched by me.
Me:Just admit it, you’re obsessed with me.
Stefano:Correction, I dislike you.
Me:Same difference.
Me:Don’t worry about my toys.They’re having the time of their lives between my thighs.Jealous it’s not you?
Anxiety tightens in my chest as I watch the little typing bubbles blink.Then stop.Then blink again.Then disappear.
Holy shit, am I seriously flirting with this man?And expecting him to flirt back?
Five minutes pass.
Nothing.
With a wicked grin tugging at my lips, I toss my phone onto the bed, then peel off my tennis clothes as I head for the bathroom.
Stepping into the shower, I reach for my favorite toy.
The one I’ve nicknamedKing.
~
“YOUR SENSE OFstyle is appalling,” is how he greets me when I meet him in the villa parking lot.
