Page 16 of The Dragon 1
“Here in Tokyo, Ms. Palmer, you will find that when I ask a question, you answer me whether you think it is necessary or not.”
Oh shit.
I widened my eyes.
“Also,” he leaned away. “I’m not giving you back your device. It’s too old. I’ll get you a new one.”
What the fuck?
“I don’t need a new one.”
He shrugged. “Additionally, I expect you to stay out of my district.”
My pulse thundered.
I had to be very careful. Men like him didn’t threaten with words. They just tilted the world beneath your feet—and smiled when you fell on your ass.
I considered what Zo had translated to me earlier.
‘Any man with a dick and a pair of eyes will be all over her.’
I steadied my voice. “I don’t think banning me from your district is necessary. The way I look won’t interfere with my observations of your business.”
Mr. Sato tilted his head slowly, like a cat studying the precise point it planned to sink its claws.
“I’m a professional,” I swallowed. “I know how to stay out of the way.”
“Men pay a two-thousand-dollar monthly fee just to walk through those doors and never hear the wordno. Not once.” He raised one finger. “Not when they order a drink. Not when they touch a woman. Not when they whisper their darkest wish in her ear. Upstairs. . .downstairs. . .the entire experience is curated to be a world without refusal. The fantasy depends on it. Do you understand?”
“Yes. However—”
“I’m not done.”
I blinked.
He reached for one of my curls resting against my shoulder, his fingers grazing my skin first—just enough to make me hold my breath. Then he took a strand between his thumb and forefinger rolling it slowly, testing the texture.
Uh. . .
Theaudacity.
The sheer arrogance.
But what unsettled me most was how easily I let him.
The coil slipped through his grip and sprang back.
And I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me but. . .I wanted him to touch my hair again. . .
That feeling irritated the hell out of me.
“Now imagine you,” He lowered his hand. “You’re walking through my world—rich chocolate skin, curls like spun silk, full lips, breasts that bounce when you breathe, and an ass that draws the eye from the front. You think these men will look away? Ignore you? Resist?”
My breath caught in my throat.
He raised his hand again and brushed his finger against another curl. When he did, his sleeve slipped up just slightly, and I spotted ink—black and bold against his skin. I couldn’t see the full design, just edges of it—sharp curves and flicks.
Damn.
