‘Tempting, Mr Knight. Especially if you promise to fill me in return.’

‘With pleasure, Miss Hart.’

‘Only for fun,’ she said softly, knowing she’d have her heart broken in the end.

‘I’m serious.’

‘We’ll talk about it.’ She had six more days; she wasn’t going to ruin them fighting.

‘Agreed.’ He knew better than to argue now. But he intended to keep Miss Hart – at least temporarily. ‘If you want to come again before we get there,’ he said smoothly, ‘we have time.’

CHAPTER 16

Dominic’s Garden House was near the Happy Valley race track and the Emperor Hotel, both useful in terms of entertainment. The track was open from September to June, the Emperor Hotel was open 365 days a year, which meant there was always sex for sale. And conveniently near the hotel was the residence Dominic had purchased three years ago and that functioned on occasion as his fuck pad.

At the moment, though, he wasn’t interested in either public venue. He had his entertainment and horse racing was the last thing on his mind.

The car entered the property through electronic gates, although nothing as pretentious as the gates for his house on The Peak. The drive was abbreviated as well, although the gardens were superb – a jungle of foliage that made the house, when it appeared, a surprise.

The red structure had been built as a summer house in the late eighteenth century, the design an idiosyncratic amalgam of Chinese and Portuguese elements. With the original Portuguese trading port of Macau a short sail from Hong Kong, there was evidence that the first owner had used the house as a private retreat – for personal entertainment. Much like the present owner.

Dominic had had the summer house converted to a year-round home, upgrading the plumbing and electricity, adding heating and air conditioning, replacing windows with more environmentally suitable glass, insulating the walls, bringing in a decorator to recreate some of the original ambience, including a room that resembled a tai chi studio.

The Garden House hadn’t been his first choice. He would have preferred entertaining Miss Hart at his house. But his mother’s presence had required the change in plans.

As the car came to a stop, Dominic spoke through the intercom to the driver. ‘We need two robes, Liang, and some towels,’ he said in Cantonese. ‘Toss them on the front seat. Then you can take one of the other cars in the garage back to the house. We’ll manage here on our own.’

The driver’s door opened a moment later.

‘He’s getting us robes,’ Dominic translated, lifting Kate and placing her on the seat beside him. ‘Relax,’ he said to the sudden apprehension in her eyes. ‘No one cares what we do. This is Hong Kong.’

‘And you’re rich.’

He smiled. ‘That too.’

They waited in the luxury Benz, concealed from the world behind smoked-glass windows. Dominic related some of the history of the house, spoke of his remodelling, talked about inconsequential things to soothe Kate’s nerves. Miss Hart wasn’t used to ignoring the world. He’d had a lot of practice.

In a few minutes, the driver’s door opened and closed. Shortly after, Dominic hit a switch and the privacy glass slid away. Rolling up from his seat, he leaned over into the front of the car and grabbed the robes and towels.

‘Here you go. We’ll leave our clothes in the car.’

Kate looked like a-deer-in-the-headlights. ‘You told him we needed towels?’

‘You need to calm down, Katherine. I have people who take care of me. They’re happy to do the same for you. It’s nothing personal. It’s their job.’ He tossed her a towel. ‘Do you want help with that?’

‘No!’ Her cheeks turned red. ‘Don’t look.’

He laughed. ‘Tell me what I haven’t seen.’

‘I don’t care. Just don’t look.’

He turned his head because it was a silly argument, not worth pursuing. And when she said, ‘Here,’ he looked back, took the towel and dropped it on the floor. Pulling his sweater over his head, he let it fall on top of the washcloth.

‘You’re just leaving those there?’

‘Someone will deal with it.’

‘None of this embarrasses you? Not even a little?’

He was taking off his shoes and glanced up. ‘Uh-uh. My staff is well paid; they couldn’t care less.’ He lifted one brow. ‘Want me to unbutton?’

She sighed and slid a jewelled button free.

‘No one will say anything to you. I promise.’ He pulled off his socks. ‘You’re going to like my bed,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘It’s antique, 1793, I’ve been told, and enormous.’

‘Don’t tell me why. I don’t want to know.’

He had no intention of telling her why. In fact, he’d have to be more selective in his topics of conversation. He kept forgetting her naivety. Just because she liked to fuck non-stop didn’t mean she was worldly. ‘Actually, the decorator found the bed in Beijing. It’s supposedly from the emperor’s apartments in the Forbidden City. If you like, we could go see the royal residences some day. It’s a pretty impressive layout.’

‘Thank you.’

That was too crisp. ‘For?’

‘Lying. I appreciate it.’

So she wasn’t completely naive. ‘I’m going to have to see that I lie a little better if it’s that obvious,’ he said with a grin, slipping his slacks and boxers down his hips, lifting up enough to slide them off.