“I’m happy to have a discussion.” She stopped walking and looked back over her shoulder at him. “All you seem to want to do is muddle around in all your innuendo. It’s boring. If we’re not going to have a practical conversation about the way this is going to work, I don’t see the point of it. You can go ahead and email me your thoughts, or whatever schedule you come up with, hopefully without all the smirking and the sighing and this endless performance you like to put on.”
She didn’t really mean to say that the way that she did, so forcefully. But she wasn’t sorry she’d done it that way when she saw his reaction. Oh, it was small. Almost unnoticeable. But something about that perfect face of his changed. Just for a moment.
But Ivy saw it.
Unless she was very much mistaken, she had landed a significant blow.
The trouble was, she just couldn’t imaginehow.
“I had no idea you were so stern and dominating,” he murmured in that idle, yet richly tenored way of his. “How delicious.” He crooked a finger at her, watching her intently. When Ivy made no move toward him, he sighed a little—yet not with the histrionics from before, so she supposed she ought to have been grateful for small mercies. He patted the sofa seat beside him, and she felt…less grateful. “We’re about to become famous lovers, Ivy. The very least we ought to do is exchange mobile numbers. Not to mention that email address I’ll need to contact you as you have demanded. I do so enjoy obedience, as I mentioned.”
“When it benefits you,” she replied, parroting what he’d told her.
His dark eyes gleamed. “Indeed.”
She felt as if she was something small and fluttery, caught in a trap. Or possibly between his hands.
And the thought of that, of being held between his palms, didn’t actually do anything to steady her breathing. Much less sort out whatever was going on with her heartbeat.
All she could see when she looked at him was danger.
But if they were really going to do what Umberto wanted them to do, Ivy didn’t see that she had any choice when it came to dealing with him. And since she didn’t have a choice, it made sense to treat him the way she intended to go on.
Meaning she couldn’t let him set the tone. She couldn’t let him control everything.
Shereallycouldn’t let him think that she was intimidated by him. She was fully aware that he wanted her to be. That heexpectedher to be.
Maybe he remembered her scuttling off from that gallery, too.
Ivy made herself walk back across the room and sit down next to him on that couch, even though every iota of self-preservation she had within her was telling her to run in the opposite direction. Like the little mouse he made her feel like she was.
She mightfeellike one, Ivy counseled herself, but he didn’t need to know that.
It was just an unfortunate fact of life that even sitting on a separate sofa cushion from the man was too close. She couldsmellhim. And it was an outrageously pleasant scent. She told herself it must be some kind of aftershave, though if so, she had never smelled anything like it. He just smelled…good. The way sunshine would smell if it had a scent.
It made her think of the few blissful holidays she’d taken in her time, her face tipped up to the sun, all of that heat and ease—
Somehow, she schooled her expression to something impassive and gazed back at him, ordering herself to stop with all thesunshine.
Giaco watched her closely, and Ivy wondered how it was that he’d convinced the entire world that he was nothing but a pageant of indolence. When she could see that he was studying her intently, like he was taking the pieces of her and examining them.
Almost like some kind of bird of prey. As if he could see every single thought that scrolled across her mind. In flashing neon lights.
This took significantly more attention to detail than a professional playboy like Giaco Tavian had ever been imagined to possess. It was also the last thing she wanted.
He shifted in his seat, his outstretched arm curling in so he could prop up his head with his own hand. As if the mere act of talking with her was exhausting. Ivy had never beheld such a lazy creature in all her life—except that, too, didn’t make any sense.
She had inspected his naked body earlier, against her will and frozen into place. And while it was possible that genetics played a role in his physique, no one could maintainall thatwithout effort. She knew that people liked to believe that it was possible. That some humans simply wafted around, treated their bodies horrendously, and were naturally gorgeous and fit and lovely anyway. Or were chemically made that way because they could afford to fix whatever they broke. And there were certain physiques that could come as a natural result of partying, or as a result of cleaning up after said partying, but his wasn’t one of them.
Those muscles of his requiredwork.
Which meant that all of this was a charade. A long-term, very deliberate game.
Ivy was going to have to think about what that meant.
But not now, because she needed all her wits about her to deal with thefactof him sitting there entirely too close to her, regarding her with those dark jade eyes that should not have been as affecting as they were. From afar, they were arresting. The tragedy was, up close, they were even more mesmerizing. They were shot through with hints of gold, but it was a dark gold. As if a treasure reserved only for those who truly saw him.
She couldn’t believe she’d actually had that thought. But the good news was, it was so inappropriate and off the chain it was galvanizing.
