I snort out a laugh. “I wouldn’t say that. I ran away from Dane and right onto your boat. Feels like I dodged a bullet and waltzed into a nuke.”
“Some would call that luck,” he says smugly.
“That’s not the word I would use.”
“Maybe you will, in the future.”
“I think you’re overestimating your charm.”
“Are you saying I have an ego?” he asks innocently, as though he genuinely wants to know the answer. His dark hair is curling over his forehead. My fingers itch to smooth it back in place.
“Most men do,” I tell him. “Then throw in a little wealth, power, and good looks? They become virtually insufferable. You don’t strike me as the humble type.”
He arches one perfect eyebrow. “And you don’t strike me as the stupid type. Yet here we are.”
I take a deep breath to steel myself. Bantering with him is weirdly intoxicating. Like getting in the cage with a tiger. “Do you usually make personal calls for the sole purpose of intimidating innocent people?”
“It’s the kind of work I usually delegate, to be honest,” he says. “But for you, I made an exception.”
“I would have rather talked to Yulian, but I guess I’m flattered.”
“Trust me,” he says, leaning in and giving me the full impact of those gray eyes, “you shouldn’t be.”
A moment passes. Neither of us look away. I feel like I’m being seared and skewered and stripped open, but I fear that what will happen if I break eye contact would be so much worse.
Then he blinks and the moment ends.
Straightening up, he runs a hand through the mess of dark hair. “How was work today?”
“Don’t gimme that shit.” I shake my head. “You don’t actually care.”
“I wouldn’t ask if that was the case.”
“No. You’re asking because—C’mon, that’s not why you’re here.”
He smiles. “Then why am I here, Jessa?”
“You want to make sure I’ve kept my mouth shut. Which I have,” I say softly.
“And my phone.”
We stare each other down, and I’m starting to realize that simply denying that I took his phone is not a long-term strategy.
He gets up suddenly, making me jerk back with alarm. He walks around the counter until he’s standing right in front of me. He really is incredibly tall.
“What are you doing?” I ask, distracted by the way his gray eyes turn a chalky blue under the kitchen lights.
“Trying to determine how long you’re going to keep this up.”
“As long as I need to.”
He smiles. “Where have you hidden it?”
I bite my lip. “I’m not telling.”
“Jessa—”
“I have no reason to believe you won’t hurt me,” I blurt out. “I needed… insurance.”