‘Thank you,’ he said crisply, and punched in another number.

A number that rang and rang and rang. Frowning, he dropped the phone on the table, picked up the folder and strode to the main bathroom in the four-thousand-square-foot suite. Twenty minutes later, showered, shaved and dressed, he was on the phone again. This time the call was answered and a man he’d dealt with many times before wished him a good morning in Mandarin.

Dominic replied in the same language, and apologized for calling so early. He politely inquired about the man’s family, expressed interest when the man told him of his son’s imminent graduation from UCLA, offered help with a position if the boy wanted to stay in the States and gave him Max’s number. With the amenities dispatched, he quickly dictated a list of items he wanted. ‘I need them delivered immediately,’ he said. ‘Can you get someone out early this morning? Good. Excellent. No, not the garden retreat. Send everything to my house. Yes, that’s right – my house.’

Dominic turned and saw Kate standing in the doorway. ‘Ah, you’re finished.’ Abruptly ending his call with his thumb, he smiled at her. ‘You look lovely, but then you always do’ – his brows flickered – ‘dressed or undressed. Is that Greta’s? I like the colour.’ Kate wore a simple, long-sleeved wool dress in a pale shade of lilac.

‘Who else’s would it be?’

‘I like the buttons down the front. Handy.’

‘I thought you might like that.’

He smiled. ‘Do I detect a more accommodating stance on your wardrobe this morning?’

‘I’m not completely averse to being obliging.’

‘I like the sound of that word “obliging”.’

‘I wasn’t unobliging last night, was I?’

‘No, you were quite, shall we say, amenable. I expect your breasts are tender this morning.’

‘Perhaps a little. My nipples particularly. But this dress is lined in silk so it’s not so very uncomfortable.’

‘I’m sorry. I should apologize.’

‘Don’t. I could have said no.’

And if she had, I would have stopped. ‘Just to be clear, you can always say no. It’s only a game.’

She smiled. ‘A very pleasurable one – awesome in fact. Like everything about you.’ She made a small moue. ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t be dressed yet.’ He wore dark slacks and a dove-grey V-neck sweater, the sleeves pushed up, his wet hair slicked back. He was barefoot.

‘I’m afraid we have to leave right after breakfast.’ He’d rearranged his schedule to allow him six days with Miss Hart and he had some pressing business matters to wind down this morning. ‘I wish we didn’t. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

‘When?’

What a charming little fretful pout. His cock twitched in recognition of Miss Hart’s insatiable appetite for sex. A quick glance at his watch; there should be time before Mrs Hawthorne arrived. ‘Say in two hours?’

‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling shyly.

He smiled an altogether different smile. ‘My pleasure.’

‘Thank you again. I seem to be addicted – to constant orgasms, to the phenomenal bliss.’ Another smile. ‘I blame you.’

‘I willingly take responsibility. And I’m more than happy to take care of your every desire.’

That simple promise simply stated shouldn’t make her body open in welcome but it did. Instantly. As if he’d flicked a switch and every shameless nerve breathlessly responded. She could feel the flutter of arousal in the pit of her stomach, the damp, melting heat, the small ache of longing.

He gave her a knowing, half smile. ‘Are you getting wet?’

She nodded, embarrassed and flustered. Not sure how to answer.

He crooked his index finger. ‘Come. I can see your nipples swelling from here.’ His voice took on a cool briskness. ‘Come, Miss Hart. Now.’

‘Be nice,’ she whispered, struggling to maintain some independence against his rough authority.

‘Oblige me, Miss Hart,’ he said gently, in response to her small rebellion, ‘and I’ll unbutton that nice row of buttons on your dress and suck on your nipples. Would you like that?’

With a satisfied smile, he watched her capitulate. And a few moments later, when she came to a stop before him, his voice was hushed. ‘Very obedient. I like that.’ He slid his fingers down the row of jewelled buttons on the bodice of her dress. ‘But then you want sex again, don’t you?’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Not even an hour since you came last. We’re going to have to teach you some restraint.’

‘Don’t,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t what?’

‘Do this to me. Play this game with me.’

Something in her voice gained his attention, her earnestness perhaps or maybe the wistfulness. Both rare in his world. He softly sighed. ‘I don’t mean to be difficult,’ he said, when in fact he had been, ‘but we have very little time. Our breakfast will be here in ten minutes.’

‘Postpone breakfast. Please, Dominic?’

She’d not used his Christian name before. It startled him. Disarmed him. ‘If I do,’ he said, a smile beginning to warm his eyes, ‘you owe me.’

‘Yes, yes.’ She dipped her head. ‘Anything.’

His cock surged at the possibilities. But his tight schedule didn’t allow him to act on impulse. ‘I can’t postpone breakfast,’ he said, his voice subdued. ‘I have a dozen calls to make, people waiting to hear from me.’ Before I disappear for six days. ‘But I don’t have to open the door right away. How would that be?’ He slid his finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to his. ‘Would that do?’