When Kate walked into the sunny breakfast room shortly after one, both men seated at the table came to their feet.

Dominic smiled. ‘I hope you were able to sleep, Miss Hart.’

‘I did. The house is amazingly quiet.’

Dominic pulled out a chair for her. ‘The gardens blunt the noise of the city.’

‘They’re fantastic,’ she said, setting her laptop on the table. ‘It’s a tropical paradise outside, the colour and variety of flowers, the heady scents. I’ve only seen the kind of birds you have here in the zoo.’

‘We’re fortunate to have the acreage so close to the city centre.’ As she sat, he pushed her chair in. ‘Tell her, Max, how we constantly have to fight off developers.’

While Kate was served, the discussion turned on the history of the old trading station constructed in the traditional style with large overhanging roofs, open-air porches, bedrooms with garden views and a central courtyard protected by tall, sturdy, iron-strapped gates. She learned that Singapore had been a major port for the colony when it was English, still served that purpose for the independent city state and the trading station had come into Dominic’s hands nine years ago when the former owner had gone back to England.

Two white-coated, unobtrusive servants saw that everyone had what they needed. Dominic had already eaten. He drank coffee while Kate and Max had their breakfasts. It was a cosy gathering in an exotic venue, the sensation of having every whim quietly satisfied by soft-spoken servants as close to a fantasy world as Kate could imagine.

How easily one could be seduced by such luxury. How easily one could be enticed by a man like Dominic Knight, who offered that luxury with a kind of casual disregard. Not that his looks alone wouldn’t guarantee him legions of women at his beck and call. Including those in that unforgettable blog she wished she’d never seen.

‘Ready?’

Jolted from her musing, she managed a quick smile. ‘Yes, of course. Thank you for breakfast.’

‘You managed without bacon,’ Dominic said, his voice amused.

‘Because you managed not to have it served.’

‘You could have had it if you’d asked.’

‘Then I will next time.’

He liked it that she alluded to a future breakfast. ‘If you ever want something, Miss Hart, just ask. I’m more than willing to oblige.’

‘Please. You’re the least obliging man I know.’

‘I could change.’

She snorted.

Max decided it was time to retreat. He had no intention of getting in the middle of whatever game Dominic was playing.

As the door closed on Max and the servants, Dominic said, ‘I could change, Miss Hart. You never know. Anything’s possible. And thank you for wearing the suit for the meeting.’ Greta’s teal-blue suit, simply cut, was a masterpiece of tailoring. ‘Your clothes reflect on me.’

‘Surely, you’re not an unknown here.’

‘But you are.’

‘My problem is that these clothes of yours reflect on me,’ she coolly pointed out. ‘So whatever you want me to be, I prefer being myself.’

‘You don’t know what I want.’

‘I can guess. Particularly after the show in Amsterdam. And this.’ She flipped open the top of her laptop, tapped the keyboard a few times, looked up. ‘There. See for yourself.’

As he rose from his chair and walked over, a video began playing. It featured a nude Dominic Knight with a braided riding crop in his hand – a long-haired, younger, super-lean Dominic Knight with sleek, corded muscles and the loose-limbed grace of a large jungle cat. Even in the unprofessional video one could see the hint of menace in the spring-coiled twitch of his hand holding the crop. Four women were either tied or handcuffed to various padded sex apparatus, some dressed in kinky lingerie, others masked, one with her mouth muzzled with a rubber ball gag. He leisurely made the rounds with his riding crop. This was not a man overcome by passion. The room was large, black velvet on the walls, mirrors everywhere, crystal chandeliers lighting the scene. It was an elegantly appointed establishment. And none of the women looked unhappy. Apparently the end result was worth it, although there were no full frontal views of Dominic. There was one brief glimpse of his engorged penis that she’d stopped on the video more times than she should have, and it was obvious that the blonde he was fucking was genuinely enjoying herself – that look on her face wasn’t staged.

Dominic watched the video for a few seconds, then leaned over and clicked it off. ‘That must be one I didn’t shut down. Just joking. Really, it’s a joke. I’ve never seen that before.’ He flicked a finger at the laptop. ‘Are there more?’

‘It’s the only one I found.’

‘That’s a relief. Do you want an explanation?’

‘Not really.’

‘Good, because I don’t want to give one. As for you thinking I want you to be something other than you are, you’re wrong.’ He drew in a small breath. ‘If you must know, I find you refreshing.’

‘I can see why, after those pictures.’ She shut down her laptop.

‘I could say that was a long time ago. I could say someone photoshopped that video.’

‘You don’t have to say anything. I’ll be going home soon.’

‘It might be seven more days,’ he said.

‘I can count.’ Time enough to argue about her walking once the meeting was over.