Heat ignited from within, a scorching, tempting sensation that only burned hotter when her frustrated gaze lifted to meet his, and he murmured in that beautifully accented and wondrously flawless English of his. “You haven’t yet asked me what kind of tour I want yet.”
Blast him.Was it really possible that he was aware of her weakness for bilingual guys?
She made a show of reluctantly sitting down, and when he continued to hold on to her wrist, she looked at where his fingers touched. “Mijnheer?” Ilse was proud of how her voice didn’t shake, but then his grip tightened, her blood sizzled under her skin, and she realized that she wasn’t really in control of anything at all.
This man was the one pulling the strings, and somehow, he made her want to be controlled—-
The thought had her scowling, and seeing it, he remarked, “You look like you’re about to kill someone.”
“Yes,” she agreed darkly.
“Should I risk asking whom?”
Her eyes bored through his. “Only if you wish to know who your would-be murderer is,mijnheer.”
As he laughed, she tried to tug her wrist out of his hold, but he only retaliated by tightening his grip even more. “I know you already think I’m bad news,mevrouw,but I’m afraid I’ve moredisappointing news. The more antagonistic you are, the more it just makes me want you.”
“I s-see.” Her voice faltered. Ilse knew she should say something more or at least sound angrier, but she couldn’t. The moment he had used the word ‘antagonistic,’ her heart had started to race, and she forgot all about freeing herself from his hold.
“Nothing else to say to that?” he teased.
Plenty,she thought. But if she allowed herself to speak, he might figure out howsexyshe found his vocabulary was, and that would be quite, quite bad.
The silence between them stretched, but Ilse refused to let it get to her. She had a feeling that this man was able to get his way more often than he should. It was time he realized that being rich and handsome wouldn’t always get him everything he wanted.
A full minute passed, and she heard him say with a smile in his voice, “You’re determined to resist me, aren’t you?”
She looked at him with sham innocence. “I’m only here because you paid for a tour,mijnheer.”
His lips curved. “And if I say the kind of tour I want is of your body?”
“That will be grounds for sexual harassment.”
“Only if I don’t turn you on,” he returned easily, without even missing a beat.
Oh.
His gaze captured hers, and the fingers that still held her wrist started to move.
Soft, tender, seductive – his every stroke said everything else for him.
He turned her on...and they both knew it.
The thought shook her, and in her panic and confusion Ilse found the strength to yank her wrist free of his hold. “This isn’t—-”
“Let’s stop running in circles,schatje.” His tone was quiet but firm, an invitation that was also an order.
“I want you in my bed.”
Oh.
“Willingly and exclusively,” he clarified.
Ilse wondered vaguely if she was being insulted or if all the women he previously dated had a tendency to bed hop.
“In exchange, you may name your price, and if I deem it reasonable, then it is yours. A contract will be drawn, and you can have a lawyer check it out for you before signing.”
Ilse’s face remained expressionless.
