I can feel his eyes on me.
And I’m not entirely sure he believed a single word I said.
I’m halfway through dusting the library when one of the staff approaches me.
“Miss Thea?”
I turn. “Yes?”
“Mr. Moretti wants to see you in his study.”
“Now?”
“Yes. He said it was urgent.”
Alright, then. I set down my duster and follow her through the house, my pulse picking up with every step. By the time we reach the study, my heart’s racing.
The staff member knocks on the door, slipping away before he answers.
“Come in.”
I open the door.
The orange light from the fire the other night has been replaced by beams of daylight streaming in through the many windows along the east wall. My eyes flick to the desk, the one where he screwed me. My cheeks redden.
Thankfully, Gabriel’s not naked this time. Instead, he’s standing by the largest of the windows, hands in his pockets, looking over the grounds. He doesn’t turn when I enter.
“Close the door.”
I do as he says. Then I wait, arms crossed, refusing to make this easy for him.
Finally, he turns and looks at me.
“There’s an event tonight,” he says. “Black-tie affair at the Belvedere. I need to make an appearance with some VIPs from the city.”
“Okay.”
“You’re my plus one.”
“Your—” I shake my head, incredulous. “You want me to go to some fancy event with you? As your date?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why doesn’t matter. I’m telling you. That’s enough.”
Heat floods my face from anger this time, not embarrassment.
He cocks his head to the side.
“There a problem?”
“Why do you care all of a sudden?”
“I’m curious.”
“This morning,” I say, “you called me the help in front of that Russian guy. You looked at me like I was a piece of furniture. And now you want me to put on a dress and smile, pretend to be your… what, exactly? Your girlfriend? Your arm candy?”
