He takes a sip of his hot coffee and looks at me over the top of the cup, smiling. “Scale of one to ten, what amI?”
His face, his body… he’s perfection. Completely off the charts, but I’m not telling him that. “Mmm… maybe aseven.”
“I’mmaybea seven?” A chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Would you like to know where you fall on myscale?”
I shrug, my very intentional attempt at appearing indifferent to his opinion of my looks. “Sure.”
“I can’t put a number on you. You’re infinity. The most beautiful woman I’ve everseen.”
I’m pretty. I’d label myself a 6.5. Maybe a seven when my hair and makeup are on point, but the most beautiful woman in the world? That’s the second time that he’s told methat.
And I callbullshit.
“You are aware that because of our deal, I’m a sure thing?” He has me right where he wants me. Bastard. “You don’t have to woome.”
“I’m a Dom. I don’twoomysubmissive. When I tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman that I’ve seen, it’s because I mean it.” I hear annoyance in histone.
I’m preparing to dispute his statement and tell him that I think he’s full of shit when Ray comes out of the house, interrupting our debate. He places a plate in front of each of us, and the argument I had for Tristan is instantly forgotten when I see and smell thefood.
“Two spinach-and-mushroom frittatas. Will there be anything else sir? More coffee?” Rayasks.
“Miss Grant would like some juice. She doesn’t care forcoffee.”
“Would you like apple ororange?”
“Orange would be great.Thanks.”
We eat without conversing for a while before Tristan breaks the silence. “Are you enjoyingThe ThornBirds?”
“I am, but I was surprised by the eighteen-year age gap between the hero and heroine. And I didn’t expect the story to begin while she was a child.” I went into it expecting a love story between two grownadults.
“Their age gap isn’t a whole lot more thanours.”
Fourteen years. Tristan had almost lived a whole other life by the time I was born. “I don’t feel like you’re fourteen years older thanme.”
“Is that because you feel older or because you see me asyounger?”
“Maybe a little of both.” I unsuccessfully try to stop my smile from spreading. “Unless we’re talking about sexual experience; you definitely don’t seem younger when it comes tothat.”
“I hope you aren’t saying that I don’t compare to the young bucks you’ve beenwith?”
“There is nocomparison.”
He stops eating and stares at me. “I need you to clarifythat.”
Does he think that I could possibly be implying that the twenty-somethings I’ve been with are better than him? That’s amusing. I also find it a bit entertaining that he’s baiting me to hear my praise andapproval.
He may be this dark, demanding Dom, but he’s still such a man-child.
“You’re the best that I’ve ever had.” And he knowsthat.
“You haven’t seen anything yet, Miss Grant.” A mischievous grin spreads. “But you’re going to. Verysoon.”
When?The word is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t say it aloud. I’m afraid to hear theanswer.
Change the subject, Emma Lia, or you’re going to work yourself into atizzy.
His hair is damp, and he’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, not his usual business-suit attire. “You aren’t going to worktoday?”
