Page 77 of About Love and Revenge

“I haven't decided on that yet. She said that, with time, I could achieve financial independence."

I carefully weigh what to say because I don't want to act like a Neanderthal. Besides, I'm almost positive that if I complain, the chances of her embracing the profession will be greater. "But is that what you'd like to do?"

"I don't know. Models need to be exposed a lot, and I don't like the idea of being scantily clad in front of people."

And there she goes again.

One moment, the woman is feisty, determined, ready to put me in my rightful place. The next, she shows how raw and innocent she still is.

My delicious woman. My private temptation.

“You don't have any problem being undressed when you’re with me,” I joke because I want to ward off this strange feeling that’s beginning to appear more and more often inside me.

The certainty that she's mine and that this desire won't pass.

“Because it's just you. I even hated it when my mom wanted me to wear low-cut dresses to our parties."

It does nothing to restrain the caveman I have under surveillance. Not knowing what to say, I kiss her for a long time.

We are not good with words; our bodies communicate much better.

“I won't let you down, if that's what you're worried about. Even if I decide to try a modeling career, next month's party is guaranteed."

"Aren't you satisfied with your work?"

"Yes, I am. I actually like this organizing thing a lot, but it doesn't seem right to me to be paid a salary and still sleep in your bed. I know this sounds kind of absurd, but it's like I'm being paid to have sex with you."

“Don't ever say that again. At first, when I invited you to work for me, it was because I wanted to help you start your life here in the States, but that's not what it's about anymore. You are competent. Everyone praises your work. Cassandra was surprised by your good taste. You're not in this position because you're my girlfriend."

“That still sounds weird."

"What?"

"Your girlfriend.You don't look like someone's boyfriend. When I think of a boyfriend, a sweet and cute man comes to mind, bearing a bouquet of flowers in his hands.”

"Is that the kind of man you like?"

"No. Don't change. I prefer you the way you are."

Elina is right—the lines of our relationship are totally blurred, overlapping. We are not just lovers. Gradually, she is becoming part of me.

“I didn't mean that."

"What are you talking about?"

“About being an idiot and calling you my employee."

“You said nothing but the truth. What irritated me was that you gave the impression that I wasonlyyour employee."

“It won't happen again."

“Are you apologizing to me?"

"Yes, I am."

She pulls away a little as if to check whether I'm serious.

I hope she's going to gloat with some mocking phrase, but to my surprise, she holds my face in her hands.

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