by Marian Tee
Blast him. Was it really possible that he was aware of her weakness for bilingual guys?
She made a show of reluctantly sitting down, and when he continued to hold on to her wrist, she looked at where his fingers touched. “Mijnheer?” Ilse was proud of how her voice didn’t shake, but then his grip tightened, her blood sizzled under her skin, and she realized that she wasn’t really in control of anything at all.
This man was the one pulling the strings, and somehow, he made her want to be controlled—-
The thought had her scowling, and seeing it, he remarked, “You look like you’re about to kill someone.”
“Yes,” she agreed darkly.
“Should I risk asking whom?”
Her eyes bored through his. “Only if you wish to know who your would-be murderer is, mijnheer.”
As he laughed, she tried to tug her wrist out of his hold, but he only retaliated by tightening his grip even more. “I know you already think I’m bad news, mevrouw, but I’m afraid I’ve more disappointing news. The more antagonistic you are, the more it just makes me want you.”
“I s-see.” Her voice faltered. Ilse knew she should say something more or at least sound angrier, but she couldn’t. The moment he had used the word ‘antagonistic,’ her heart had started to race, and she forgot all about freeing herself from his hold.
“Nothing else to say to that?” he teased.
Plenty, she thought. But if she allowed herself to speak, he might figure out how sexy she found his vocabulary was, and that would be quite, quite bad.
The silence between them stretched, but Ilse refused to let it get to her. She had a feeling that this man was able to get his way more often than he should. It was time he realized that being rich and handsome wouldn’t always get him everything he wanted.
A full minute passed, and she heard him say with a smile in his voice, “You’re determined to resist me, aren’t you?”
She looked at him with sham innocence. “I’m only here because you paid for a tour, mijnheer.”
His lips curved. “And if I say the kind of tour I want is of your body?”
“That will be grounds for sexual harassment.”
“Only if I don’t turn you on,” he returned easily, without even missing a beat.
Oh.
His gaze captured hers, and the fingers that still held her wrist started to move.
Soft, tender, seductive – his every stroke said everything else for him.
He turned her on...and they both knew it.
The thought shook her, and in her panic and confusion Ilse found the strength to yank her wrist free of his hold. “This isn’t—-”
“Let’s stop running in circles, schatje.” His tone was quiet but firm, an invitation that was also an order.
“I want you in my bed.”
Oh.
“Willingly and exclusively,” he clarified.
Ilse wondered vaguely if she was being insulted or if all the women he previously dated had a tendency to bed hop.
“In exchange, you may name your price, and if I deem it reasonable, then it is yours. A contract will be drawn, and you can have a lawyer check it out for you before signing.”
Ilse’s face remained expressionless.
“Am I being too businesslike about this?” he queried.
Ilse slowly shook her head. “No.”
“Then do you accept?”
“If I ask you for a million euros,” she heard herself say, “will you agree?” And a million euros would solve so much, she thought vaguely. Jan would receive the best kind of medical care, and she could go back to school—-
“Yes.”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Even if you ask for another million, I’ll still be inclined to say yes.”
“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” Should she be flattered, or did money just mean that little to him because he had so much of it?
A million euros, Ilse thought dazedly.
It was so, so tempting to say yes.
And she might have said yes...
...if she hadn’t caught that fleeting look in his eyes—-
A look that told her he had always thought she had a price.
Ah.
She waited for their eyes to meet.
And when it did—-
“I truly appreciate the offer...” And Ilse slowly came to her feet. “But I’d rather you go fuck yourself.”
ALL HIS LIFE, WOMEN had always been the ones to throw themselves at Jaak de Konigh. It was the way of the world, the way it was supposed to be. Jaak hadn’t ever the need to run after a woman, and even now, having a woman walk out on him for the first time in his life—-
The part of Jaak that was entirely used to his every command being followed told him to fuck it. She was beautiful, exciting – different.
But so were a million other women.
And yet, even knowing this, he found himself standing up.
Even as he cursed himself for doing something completely unnatural, he found himself going after her.
He reached her at the end of the narrow and steep staircase spiraling from the café’s entrance doors, Jaak cupping her elbow as he pulled her back to face him, the urgency in her action causing her dark locks to spin like a wave of caramel silk behind her.
Her big brown eyes clashed with his, and an unfamiliar emotion struck Jaak, causing his chest to tighten. It felt very much like...fear.
In her eyes, he saw that she had dismissed him already – that they were over before anything could have started.
He stared at her beautiful, impassive face, and he could practically hear her gently chiding him. Did you expect me to make a scene, mijnheer? Or even worse, did you expect me to throw my arms around you simply because you ran after me?
His grip on her elbow tightened as that tight, painful feeling squeezed his chest just a bit harder. He knew he was being foolish, but he couldn’t get rid of the thought that if he let her go now, then he could never have her in his life again.
And he didn’t want that.
It didn’t matter that they barely knew each other.
All he knew was that she was different...and that he needed her.
“I’m sorry.” His tone was quiet but harsh. “I misjudged you.”
There was a pause, and then she answered reluctantly, “I wish you hadn’t said sorry.”
Her words were completely unexpected, with a part of him having expected her to brush his apology off. “Why?” As he spoke, his fingers drifted from her elbow, moving down her arm until he was holding her hand.
Ilse found herself looking down as his fingers locked with hers, the mere act a liberty that she hadn’t ever allowed any other man to have. “Because then,” she heard herself say, “I could keep thinking of you as an arrogant asshole.” She looked up. “But even though you don’t seem like one – I am sorry, mijnheer. I still think it’s better we have nothing to do with each other.”
Chapter Three
“What gorgeous flowers,” Gloria exclaimed upon catching sight of the huge bouquet of tulips as she walked inside the office. Boasting of shabby chic décor characterized by faded floral wallpaper, quilted swivel seats, and Victorian tables, the office looked more like a tearoom straight out of a Jane Austen novel rather than the headquarters of a tour company with the rather dubious name of Glory Hall.
A quick look around the office showed that only Ilse was around, coming in half an hour early for work as was her usual.
Reaching Ilse’s table, Gloria took an appreciative whiff of the blooms, asking, “Who’s it from?”
“No one important,” Ilse answered shortly as she scooped the flowers out of her boss’ nose and marched to where the rubbish bin was. It had been over a week since she had last seen Jaak de Konigh, a week in which the billionaire had proved to be amazingly insistent in pursuing her.
He had mailed handwritten notes to her office address, all of them addressed to the pseudonym she used for work,
and all of which she had torn up into pieces without reading a single one.
And now—-this!
The older woman gasped as Ilse proceeded to unceremoniously dump the bouquet in the trash. “Ilse!” Those flowers, which had come from the city’s most expensive florist shop, must have cost at least a hundred euros. How could the silly girl throw them away just like that?
Ilse only grunted. After taking a photo of the ill-fated blooms, she began punching letters on her screen, sending her first text message to the billionaire. It was a good thing she had saved his number from his business card before getting rid of it.
“Is it from a stalker?” Gloria asked as she perched herself on the edge of Ilse’s table.
“Nope.”
“A pervert?” the older woman prodded as she crossed her legs, which she was proud to note were as silky as they had been when she first came to Mokum as a starry-eyed teenager from the country.
And how life had changed since then, Gloria reminisced. She had come to the city as an aspiring actress, but she had ended up as one of RLD’s most in-demand sex workers in her heyday. Others would probably think her life story was far from a fairy tale, but for Gloria, being paid for sex – which she had discovered to be a really delectable pastime – was nothing to regret.
C’est la vie had always been her motto, and with the very comfortable life she had come to enjoy, Gloria considered herself much luckier than she deserved to be.
Unlike Ilse, Gloria thought, her glance straying to the beautiful woman who was staring stonily at her cellphone. Despite her rather prickly personality, Ilse Muir was also the kindest and most hardworking person Gloria had come across. Ilse was the one who truly deserved all the luck in the world, but as life would have it, Ilse was the one saddled with a near-impossible burden.
When Ilse swiveled her seat to face her laptop, Gloria quickly snatched the younger woman’s cellphone.
“Gloria!”
Gloria saw that the last message Ilse had sent was to a person she had labeled on her contact book as DEVIL INCARNATE.
Ilse and her big words, Gloria thought, amused, never failing to get a kick out of how smart her #1 employee was. Her glance then moved to the message Ilse had sent, and Gloria’s eyebrows went up.
Save the planet and don’t send me flowers ever again.
“So you actually know how to be rude when you want to,” Gloria remarked with faint surprise as she returned the phone to its owner.
Ilse only scowled.
“You know, if you really hate that person,” Gloria said candidly, “then you wouldn’t have bothered sending a text message. You should have just blocked his number...”
Gloria stifled her smile at the way Ilse paled, having guessed correctly that the younger woman hadn’t realized she was actually interested in the other person. Her dear girl might look like a sexpot, Gloria thought fondly, but the truth was, Ilse was so focused on her big-sister responsibilities it had made Ilse rather dense about men.
“Who is he?” she pressed again.
“No one important,” Ilse repeated flatly.
“Can’t you even give me a name?” Gloria wheedled.
“There’s no point,” Ilse answered in the same stoic tone, “because you won’t ever get to meet him.”
But only a few hours later, and Ilse stood corrected on this.
Glory Hall received a rather unexpected visitor during lunch break, and the entire office – consisting of Gloria and her twelve tour guides – came to a standstill.
Ilse shot up to her feet. “What are you doing here?” And what business did her heart have, she wondered in consternation, to drum against her chest like she was actually excited to see Jaak de Konigh?
The billionaire, looking handsome and sophisticated in a black, handmade Italian suit, only raised a brow. “Did you truly expect it would be so easy to get rid of me?”
SO HER NAME WAS ILSE Muir, and not only was she Glory Hall’s star employee, but she had also been responsible for its turnaround, having convinced Gloria to rename and relaunch her business.
All of this was revealed by Ilse’s flamboyant and chatty boss, who – over Ilse’s silent glares – had happily invited the billionaire into her private office when she saw that he had also come bearing gifts – packed gourmet lunches together with bottles of expensive wine.
“I’m so glad my business had a hand in getting you and our Ilse to meet,” Gloria shared with a romantic sigh. “She’s a lovely girl, and she definitely deserves a man like you.”
“And yet,” the billionaire drawled in an amused tone, “she’s been ignoring all my calls and texts in the past week.”
“She’s only testing you,” Gloria answered airily even as she studied the younger man under her lashes. While she had recognized the man by face and knew of his reputation, Gloria was also a great believer of never judging a book by its cover. And now that she had seen him in person and had spent actual time talking to him—-
The billionaire didn’t appear to be anything like the shallow playboy gossip websites liked to paint him to be, but then...he could also be pretending. She needed to dig a little deeper, see if this man was indeed a good match for her dear girl.
“Ilse’s rather...goal-oriented,” Gloria explained carefully. “She doesn’t just let anyone into her life.”
And what an understatement that was, the older woman reflected. Thinking of Ilse’s only two other friends outside the company – Charlene, the sex worker whom Ilse occasionally rented storage space from and Erik, her neighbor-slash-voluntary-babysitter – Gloria went on, “She only likes to spend time with people she knows she can be friends with for life.”
The billionaire simply nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips.
How difficult to read this billionaire was, Gloria thought in approval. A deep and complex man, in other words, which should make him quite attractive to Ilse. Whether Ilse admitted to it or not, she liked her life complicated, and could there be anything more complicated than warding off the attentions of a sexy, secretive billionaire?
“You seem like a nice young man,” Gloria murmured sweetly. “May I ask what your intentions are towards Ilse?”
Jaak’s smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “Intentions? That’s a bit archaic, don’t you think?”
Archaic? Gloria blinked. How wonderful! This man was proving to be tailor-made for Ilse, with his vocabulary as impressive as his bank account.
“If you keep talking like that,” Gloria told him truthfully, “your intentions probably wouldn’t matter.” This time, though, the older woman also chose to switch from Dutch to English, wanting to see if the billionaire would also meet Ilse’s other preferences.
“I beg your pardon?”
And he did!
Having heard the man’s perfect command of English, Gloria leaned forward, saying, “This is your lucky day, mijnheer.”
Twenty minutes later, and the billionaire walked out Ilse’s boss’ office an enlightened man. When he paused in front of Ilse’s table, she didn’t look up, her attention completely focused on her computer.
It didn’t matter.
He already knew her secrets, thanks to Gloria.
Bending down, he reached for the armrests of her chair and spun it towards him, making Ilse gasp as she faced him. A second later, and her gaze darted away from his, looking around her like she was waiting for someone to help her.
But her co-workers were only staring at her and the billionaire like they had come across an interesting live show for free.
Shit. Ilse reluctantly turned to face the billionaire, telling herself that she would just have to order him to release her. But then she met his gleaming blue eyes, and her resolve started to weaken.
It was not fair – so not fair – that this man was so perfect, even the look in his eyes alone could seduce her!
“Ilse...”
Her name on his lips was impossibly seductive, too, and Ilse barely managed to keep her body from tr
embling.
“I know you’re hoping to keep giving me the cold shoulder until I lose interest in you, but I’m telling you now it won’t work.”
Ha. Ilse was privately taken aback by the words, but she only let her lips purse in reaction, determined to treat him with indifference.
“Secondly, I’d like to be fair and honest with you, so I’m letting you know that Gloria’s given me a rather nice advantage.”
Ilse swung her seat around, head whipping to where her boss’ office was, and through the glass wall, she saw Gloria seated on her executive chair. The older woman beamed at her, which Ilse replied to with a scowl. Gloria, you traitor!
The billionaire walked around her table, and his powerful form suddenly blocked her line of sight, leaving her nothing to see but him.
“I’m not finished.” He suddenly bent forward, his hands settling on the armrests of her chair once more, but this time the position also had his hard body inches away from hers—-
Aaaah. In a panic to get as far away from him as possible, Ilse tried to push her chair back, but the billionaire only retaliated by pulling her seat closer, his strength easily overpowering hers.
The scent of his cologne struck her nostrils, and Ilse bit her lip hard.
Dear Lord, how can You let this happen?
Why did the billionaire have to smell as good as he looked, too?
His head moved even closer, and she stiffened as she felt his breath tickling her ear when he whispered silkily, “Do you want to know what my advantage is?”
No. Yes. No. Ilse no longer knew what to say.
“Say yes, babe.”
Her eyes widened.
B-babe?
How did he—-
The billionaire chuckled when he felt Ilse stiffen, saying wickedly, “Yes, babe. I know a favorite erotic romance of yours had you wanting to have a boyfriend who can call you babe, and it will be my pleasure to do so.”
GLORIA, YOU TRAITOR!
“And that’s not all I know, I’m afraid,” the billionaire murmured silkily. “I’m guessing you haven’t researched anything about me—-”