When we are safely secured in the limo, he turns to me. “What the hell was that about?”
Taken aback, I scrunch my face in confusion. “You’re questioning me? I went to the bathroom! Or is Stone Parlatore’s mistress not allowed to pee without first asking permission?”
“Wife, not mistress.”
“Seriously? We’re arguing semantics. Is there a difference?”
For normal people in a normal world, yes. For Stone, a woman is an object. I’m picking up on that quite fast. The only reason he wants to touch me is because I cut him off from his booty calls.
“When we’re in public, you do as I say.”
“Or what?”
I do still fear him, but not physically. He can cut me off from Mama. He can hold me hostage longer than the two-year contract. He can make my life miserable while I wait for him to take whatever the hell he needs from me to get to Lorenzo.
“Or else you’re not safe.”
The man is so irritating he distracts me from being scared. “You did that on purpose.”
“What?”
“Pissed me off. Was I in danger? Are they here?”
Stone settles back in his seat. “You’re not in any danger.”
“So why the secret James Bond mission? What about the phone call?”
“There was no phone call.”
I rub my temples. “You really need to work on your communication skills. Can we go back to where we were having a good time and then you ditched me for a phone call?”
“The phone call wasn’t real. I needed to step away from the table.”
“Why?”
“You ask too many questions.”
“You don’t answer any.” I glare at him over my shoulder. The vein has flattened. “If you want me to trust you, you need to be open with me.”
“I’ve told you what you need to know. When you need to know more, I’ll tell you.”
“Argh.” I tip my head back and growl. “You are so frustrating. Trust is a two-way street, pal. I already told you I don’t like to be barked at. You bark. I bite. If you want me to adhere to requests, you treat me with respect. Respect means telling the truth, and if memory serves, you’ve told me more than once that you don’t lie.”
“I don’t.”
“Lie by omission. Same thing.”
“Okay.” He leans forward and removes his suit coat, folding it neatly and draping it over the seat across from us. “I was worried our act had gone too far. That people wouldn’t believe I could relax and enjoy myself with a beautiful woman without having some sort of...interruption. I staged the phone call since that would be a very Stone Parlatore thing to do.”
I need time to process what he’s just said. He enjoyed himself with me. It wasn’t an act. “You were worried you’d lose your man card.”
“Excuse me?”
“I read a lot of books and watched a lot of American television. I don’t suppose you’re up with American slang or culture.”
“Not in the slightest.”
Grinning, I tuck my leg under my knee. “You were worried people would think you were whipped.”