Page 25 of Tell Me What You Want

“Uff ... don’t tempt me to take advantage of you.”

“Take advantage of me,” he whispers.

I don’t really want to think about what he’s proposing. At least, I don’t want to understand it the way I’m thinking about it. But of course, I can’t keep my mouth shut.

“You’re going to pay me to be with you?” I ask.

He looks me right in the eye. “I’m going to pay you for your work, Jude. What kind of person do you think I am?”

I’m nervous and my stomach does a flip-flop, but I have another question.

“And what do you suppose my work will be?” I ask, this time in a low voice so no one can hear.

Without the slightest trace of annoyance, he keeps his impressive eyes on me. “I just explained it to you, sweetness,” he says. “You’ll be my administrative assistant. The person in charge of sending a summary to Germany of what’s discussed at those meetings.”

Before I can say anything else, he takes my hand.

“I’m not going to deny that I’m attracted to you. I get excited when I touch you, and even more when I hear you moan. But trust me; what I’m proposing is entirely legit.”

That amuses me, and I laugh. I feel like Demi Moore inIndecent Proposal.

“Separate hotel rooms?” I ask.

“Of course. We’ll each have our own space. You can think about it until Tuesday. I’ll need an answer then, or I’ll have to look for another assistant.”

Just then, Giovanni shows up with an amazing pizza. The smell of the spices makes my mouth water. From that moment on, we drop the subject. I’m grateful. I have time to think about it. For the moment, we concentrate instead on our splendid meal.

10

When we leave the restaurant, Eric takes my hand again possessively, and I let him. More and more, I like how he makes me feel, though I’m a bit rattled by his proposal.

A part of me wants to reject it, and another part wants to accept it. I like Eric. I like his kisses. I like his touch, and his games. We walk in search of shade in the Royal Palace gardens while we talk about a million things, but nothing very seriously.

“Would you like to come to my hotel?” he asks abruptly.

“Now?”

He looks at me hungrily.

“Yes, now,” he whispers in a raspy voice. “I’m staying at the Hotel Villa Magna.”

My stomach flips. After just a few seconds of looking back at him, I nod, sure that’s what I want. We go hand in hand back to the parking garage.

“Are you going to let me drive?”

He looks at me with his disconcerting eyes and brings his lips close to my ear.

“Have you been good?”

“Very, very good.”

“And are you going to sing again?”

“You can bet on it.”

I hear him laugh, but he doesn’t answer. When we get to the parking garage and pay the ticket, he hands me the keys.

“Your wish is my command, sweetness.”

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