His Ultimate Demand. Dani Collins
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he did.
‘You had my things removed from my room?’ The incredulity in her voice amused and irritated him at once.
‘I don’t believe in wasting time when my mind is made up.’
‘And what about my mind? You didn’t know what choice I would make!’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. I did. I’m very familiar with the concept of supply and demand. You want something only I can provide. You wanted it enough to hop on a plane on the strength of an eavesdropped conversation between complete strangers. I wagered on you being ambitious enough to agree to my demands.’
‘You make me sound so mercenary.’
‘On the contrary. I like a woman who states what she wants upfront. Subterfuge and false coyness are traits I actively despise.’
‘Somehow I don’t believe that.’
‘You think I like liars?’
Her gaze slid away. ‘I didn’t say that.’
He forced himself to turn away, resume his path towards his bathroom and another cold shower. Maledizione!
‘As for your case, I had it brought here to avoid any awkwardness. Or would you rather have answered questions as to why you’ve been absent from your duties for the last several hours?’
She groaned. ‘Oh, God! What will they think?’
‘They’ll think the obvious. But you’re with me, so no one will question you about it.’
‘I...I...’
‘The words you’re looking for are thank you. You can use the second bedroom suite to get ready. I have a brunch meeting in the Dragon Room in half an hour.’
‘And you want me to come with you?’
‘Of course. From here on in, you serve no one but me.’ His words echoed in his head and his fists clenched.
For the second time in less than ten minutes another unwanted emotion sideswiped him. Possessiveness.
Just as he’d trained himself not to trust, he’d trained himself not to become attached. Possessiveness suggested an attachment to something...someone.
Narciso didn’t do attachment. And yet—
‘What happens after your meeting?’
He forced nonchalance into his voice. ‘We return here to indulge in...whatever we please. Tomorrow when the lock down is lifted, we leave.’
THE REST OF the morning turned out to be a study in how the very rich and influential operated. Having grown up in relative wealth and seen the lengths to which people went to keep what they had, Ruby had imagined she knew how power and influence were wielded.
Watching Narciso Valentino command a room just by walking into it took her education to a whole different level. People’s attitude transformed just by him entering their presence, despite his mask now being back firmly in place.
Although dressed more casually than he’d been last night, he exuded the same authority and attention as he moved from room to room, chatting with other well-heeled guests. The brief time he left her to attend his meeting, Ruby was left with a floundering feeling in her stomach that irritated and shocked her at the same time.
She was finishing her buttered brioche and café Americano when she sensed a gaze on her. Anticipating another of the speculative looks she’d been on the receiving end of since she came downstairs with Narciso, she stemmed her apprehension and raised her head.
The man who’d played against Narciso last night and won thirty million dollars was watching her with stormy grey eyes.
He moved forward and pulled out a chair. ‘May I join you?’ He sat down before she could stop him.
‘Sure. It’s a free country, I think.’
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He steepled his fingers together and stared at her. ‘Where’s my... Where’s your companion?’
‘At a meeting...’ She paused and stared down at his wrist. ‘I thought those smartwatches could tell you where each guest is. Why are you asking me?’
‘Perhaps I just wanted a conversation opener.’
‘Needing an opener would mean you have something specific to discuss with me. I don’t see what that could be.’ Her discomfort grew underneath that unwavering, hostile stare. She started to put her flatware down, thought better of it and hung on to the knife.
His gaze went to it and swung back to hers. ‘You won’t be needing that.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that. Now, can I help you with something?’ As she’d thought last night, there was something vaguely familiar about him. But like every single guest present, his mask was back on and nothing of the rest of his features was enough to pinpoint where she might have seen him before, and she was not going to commit another faux pas by asking him his name.
‘I merely came to offer you a warning. Stay away from The Warlock.’
‘Considering you won over thirty million dollars from him last night, I’d have thought you’d be in a better frame of mind, perhaps even celebrating your huge windfall, not wasting your time casting aspersions on someone you defeated.’
‘He thinks he has bested me but he’ll soon learn the error of his ways.’
‘Right. Okay...was that all?’ she asked, but his eyes had taken on a faraway look, as if he were somewhere else entirely.
‘He’s been poison ever since...’ His mouth tightened and his eyes grew colder. ‘For as long as I’ve had to deal with him, he’s been nothing but trouble. He was given his name for a reason.’
‘The Warlock?’
His hand fluttered in a dismissive gesture. ‘No, I meant his real name. Take my advice and remember that once he tells you who he really is.’
‘I’m not supposed to know who he is, so what you’re saying means less than nothing to me.’
‘Or you could understand perfectly what I mean.’ His upper lips twisted. ‘Unless spreading your legs for him has robbed you of all common sense.’
The barb struck too close to home. ‘How dare you?’ She jerked back at the sheer hatred pouring from him. Ice-cold sensation drenched her veins at the same time as warm hands cupped her shoulders.
‘Ruby?’ Narciso clipped out her name. ‘What’s going on here?’ The question was quite rhetorical because she was sure he’d caught part of the exchange.
Certainly, his flint-hard gaze and tense jaw made her think of her earlier assessment of just how dangerous an opponent he could be.
For whatever reason, the man sitting across from her spewing vitriol had wronged Narciso Valentino on a very deep level. The skin around his mouth was white and the hands curved over her shoulders were a little less than gentle.
Ruby carefully set her knife down and took a deep breath. ‘Nothing. He was just leaving. Weren’t you?’
The older man smiled and took his time to rise. His eyes locked on Narciso’s and for a moment Ruby thought she understood the connection, then dismissed it. What she was imagining couldn’t be possible.
Pure visceral hate existed between these two men. It coloured the air and crawled over her skin.
In her darkest days before she’d actively distanced herself from her parents, her father’s behaviour had permeated every single corner of her existence and she’d imagined she hated him. She could never accept the way Ricardo Trevelli lived his life, or the