Page 65 of Arrogant and Merciless

“I thought you’d lost your memory, Taylor, but apparently you’re still as insolent as ever.”

“I was insolent?” she asks, and if I didn’t know how cunning she is, I’d fall for this act.

“You always were with me.”

“Did we spend a lot of time together?”

“Not really,” I say as though it’s nothing. “Have a seat, Taylor. Want something to drink?” I offer, dismissing the security detail with a nod.

She glances over her shoulder, probably realizing only then that we weren’t alone before. When she faces me again, her cheeks are flaming red.

I know my staff is ready to serve us, and the moment I direct my question to Taylor, my housekeeper appears. The redhead looks at me, and for an instant, I figure she’ll just ask for water, but she proves me right that she’s no longer the girl I once knew.

With a subtle, mischievous smile, she says, “I want champagne. The most expensive one you can serve me.” She tries to hide that little grin, as though she’s in on some private joke.

“It’s not very refined to talk about prices, Taylor,” I say, more to see what the hell she’s thinking than because I care about manners.

After all, as in the past, there’s nothing civilized about me right now. If I gave in to what I feel, I’d scare her with my savagery, because I’ve just confirmed what I’ve suspected since the reception night: even though I despise her, the desire I feel for her hasn’t budged an inch.

“I don’t remember the past, but I suspect refinement was never my strong suit. I’m poor, judging by the clothes Jackie gave me when I got back to the States. And from what I found out about my parents, we always counted every penny, which means I wasn’t raised in a Swiss boarding school. If you wanted someone at your level, you should have spent your half-million dollars differently.”

I feel my blood boiling, just like the first time we met. The way she attracts me hasn’t changed at all. “Mimi, serve us the Jacques Selosse, Millésime 2008?1,” I tell my employee, and once she’s gone, I turn to Taylor. “Good enough for you, Miss Jarvis?”

“I don’t know. Depends on the price. Jackie told me to enjoy the evening.”

“It costs enough, I can assure you.”

Though she’s trying to appear confident, I immediately sense two things: she’s perched on the edge of the three-seater couch, looking somewhat tense. I’m hardly better off. The sexual tension between us is still fierce.

Nonetheless, I’m a master at concealing my desires. Not even when I thought I was in love with her did I lower my guard. I’m certainly not about to now I’m certain she’s no good.

“Going back to your question, I chose to dine here because I like my staff’s cooking.”

“And maybe because you wanted privacy with me.”

“Why would I want that?”

“I don’t know yet, but Jackie warned me to be on guard. She thinks you hate me and want revenge.”

“If I wanted revenge, your betrayal would have to mean something, Taylor. There were no feelings between us. It was just lust.”

She stares at me, and for the first time since arriving, she seems shaken. Her head slowly bobs in agreement, but she behaves as if I’ve struck a raw nerve, which of course could just be an act.

Taylor stands and walks out of the living room, stopping only when she reaches the penthouse’s terrace. I follow her.

Somehow I know she’s withdrawing. I don’t believe for a second she’s really lost her memory, but if she has, there must be traits of her personality still intact. I recall how she could hide her feelings whenever she wanted. That’s not what I need—I need her to believe she still holds power over me.

“Why did you decide to teach violin to underprivileged kids?” I ask, positioning myself behind her.

I see her bare shoulders tense, and I clench my fists at my sides so I won’t give in to the urge to brush aside that fiery hair and bite her soft skin. A primitive need to mark her rips through me so strongly that I step back.

She turns to face me, so close I can feel her breath on me. “Because no matter how long it takes, I’m going to discover who I used to be. I’ll reclaim my identity. If the violin was once a passion, maybe it’s the key to finding myself again. Besides, I found out I like kids.”

“Nothing will ever be the same. You’re older now, more experienced.”

“More seductive, William? You still want me?”

“That’s not why you’re here.”

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