Page 58 of Ruthless Oath

“Do you want to tell me why you smashed the glass?”

“No.”

“Does it have something to do with my dad?”

“I don’t want to discuss it.” I extended my hand to her. “Did you get the books I had Ricardo put on your lunch tray?”

“Yes.”

“Were they good choices for you?”

“They’ll keep me busy while I’m locked in my room.” She twisted the ends of her hair and tossed them over her shoulder. “I’d much rather have a phone and a computer.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” I said. After the news about the shipment, I didn’t have the energy for her incessant requests.

“We’re not fighting.”

Yet.

“Is it possible to have a quiet evening?” I placed my hand on the small of her back, leading her out of the room and down the hallway. “I had dinner brought in. Can we eat in peace?”

“Is that what smells so good?”

I opened the doors to the sunroom that overlooked the backyard. Ricardo had set up the room for an intimate dinner, like I requested, and he’d gone all out. Candles, a fire in the hearth, and champagne chilling in the bucket by the small table set for two. White fucking twinkling lights were hung throughout the room.

Fuck, I requested dinner, not a setup for me to propose.

“It’s cozy here,” she said.

While she admired Ricardo’s work, I admired my hostage. Her flawless complexion glowed against the backdrop of the flames in the fireplace. Her thick and shiny black locks cascaded over her shoulders and down her slender back, almost reaching that gorgeous ass of hers.

“Would you like a glass of champagne?” I removed the bottle from the bucket. Ricardo had popped it a few minutes ago.

“I’d love some.” She sat on the loveseat by the fire as I poured two glasses.

“The dress is up to your standards?”

“Are you kidding?” She scooted over so I could sit next to her. “It’s from the upcoming Valentino spring line. How did you even get it?”

“I have connections in Italy.” I sat next to her. “You know your fashion.”

“I should.” She smiled at me. “It’s been my life for a long time.”

“What do you plan to do with that degree?”

“I don’t know.” She lost herself in thought for a moment.

Was my question too difficult for her to answer?

“Being a stylist might be fun.” She finished her drink. “I could dress the models on the runway and beyond. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Because you’re too busy spending your daddy’s money?” I took her empty glass and gave her my full one. “You haven’t given your own career much thought.”

“You’re not drinking?”

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