His Ultimate Demand

‘So we’ve graduated from ropes to threats?’ Her attempt at humour fell flat when his face tightened further.

‘Don’t tempt me. I’m this close to breaking point.’ He held two fingers together for emphasis.

She froze when the arm imprisoning hers drew her closer to his warm body. ‘Did something go wrong with your meeting? A deal fall through or something?’

‘What makes you ask that?’

‘Aside from the confrontation just now, you seem to be in a foul mood. Did something happen?’

‘No, sweet Ruby. The “network hard” part of my day is ticking along nicely. It’s the “play harder” part that has failed miserably.’

So she was partly to blame for his disagreeable mood.

Time for a subject change.

‘Where to now?’

‘The champagne mixer in the Blue Dungeon. Then we’re leaving,’ he clipped out.

‘I thought we couldn’t leave until the lock down was lifted tonight?’

‘I’ve asked for a special dispensation from Zeus,’ he said, his gaze on the downward-moving arrow. They were sinking deeper into the bowels of the building. Ruby felt as if she were disappearing into Alice’s Wonderland. ‘The dispensation should be coming through on your smartwatch any minute now. Let me know when it does.’

‘The owner’s name really is Zeus. Seriously?’

‘You don’t find my moniker incredulous.’

‘That’s because...’ She paused, unwilling to voice the thought rattling through her head.

‘Because?’

She shrugged. ‘The Warlock suits you, somehow.’

He faced her fully, his gaze raking her face in that intensely raw way that made her feel vulnerable, exposed.

‘In what way does it suit me?’ he asked silkily.

Because you mesmerise me with very little effort. Ruby cleared her throat.

‘You’re obviously a genius at what you do.’

‘And you think my success stems from sorcery?’

She shrugged. ‘Not in the chicken bones and goat sacrificing sense but in other ways.’

One hand rose, trailed down her jaw to rest on the pulse pounding at her throat. ‘And will I be able to sway you into my bed with this potent magic of mine?’

‘No.’

His smile this time was genuine. And devastating to her senses. ‘You sound so very sure.’

‘Because I am. I told you, I don’t mix business and pleasure.’

His smile dimmed. ‘Would this have anything to do with your ex-almost-lover?’

‘I believe it’s a sound work ethic,’ she answered.

Once Narciso had left her on her own, she’d replayed the events of last night and this morning. Shame at her behaviour had charged through her, forcing her to quickly reinforce her crumbling self-control.

Letting her feelings run wild and free was not an option. Heartache and devastation could be the only result if she didn’t get herself back under control.

‘So you intend to let him win?’ Narciso queried softly.

‘This is my choice.’

‘If you say so.’

She had no chance to respond before the doors opened and they entered the most surreal room Ruby had ever seen. Blue lights had been placed strategically on the floors, walls and ceilings of a huge cavern. And bottles of champagne hung on wires, their labels combined with the words QV Macau.

‘What does Q Virtus mean?’ she asked.

His smile was mysterious. ‘I could tell you but I’d have to—’

‘Oh, never mind.’ She turned as an excited murmur went through the crowd.

Six acrobats clad in LED-lit costumes swung from tension cables from one end of the room to the other.

She couldn’t help her gasp of wonder at their movement. ‘Oh, my God.’

‘So that’s what it’ll sound like.’ The wicked rasp was for her ears alone. His warm breath tickled her ear, sending a tingle right to her toes.

‘What what will sound like?’

‘Your gasp of wonder when I’m deep inside you.’ His lips touched her lobe and she jerked at the electric sensation.

‘Since that’s never going to happen, you’ll just have to keep guessing,’ she replied.

He merely laughed and plucked two glasses off a sterling-silver tray that dropped down from the ceiling as if by magic. ‘Champagne?’ He passed her a glass.

She took it simply for something to do besides staring at his gorgeous face, which had transformed dramatically from his earlier formidable demeanour. He clinked glasses with her and raised his in a toast. ‘To the thrill of the challenge.’

‘I won’t participate.’

‘Too late. You threw the gauntlet. I accepted. Drink your champagne. That’s a five-thousand-dollar glass you’re holding.’

She stared down into the golden liquid before answering. ‘I don’t really drink that much.’

‘I guessed as much. Another souvenir from the ex?’