He shrugged. ‘Call this an informal one, then.’
Before she could object, he carried on. ‘One of your tasks is to take inventory and assess the efficiency of my homes around the world, sim?’
‘Of course. Did I miss something in my report?’ He had twenty-seven residences, all in tip-top shape with a full complement of staff should he be struck with a sudden urge to take a rare vacation.
‘According to the latest report, I haven’t used my Amalfi Coast property in two years. I’ve instructed for it to be transferred into your name.’
She went cold, her jaw sagging for several mind-numbing seconds. ‘My mid-year bonus is a nine-million-euro mansion?’
He scowled at her screechy response. ‘No need for hysteria. A simple thank you will suffice. And considering your trying behaviour this week, you can add further thanks for my magnanimity.’
‘There’s been nothing wrong with my behaviour. I know you said you don’t care about appearances but I’d thank you not to scream what happened in Morocco from the rooftops.’
His gaze grew cool. ‘I wasn’t aware I was doing any such thing.’
‘A twenty-bedroom mansion doesn’t scream discreet, Joao. It screams pay-off for services rendered,’ she hissed under her breath, aware of the driver’s presence.
Joao hit the partition button, ensuring she was even more alone with him than her excitable senses suggested was wise. ‘Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is, Saffie. I’m simply rewarding you for your hard work. You will do well to remember that and be grateful.’
‘This isn’t ingratitude, Joao. This is...way over the top. And if this is in reaction to Will, it’s not necessary.’
His tension spiked and she berated herself for mentioning Will. It was clear the other man irritated Joao. Had she done it deliberately, to get a rise out of him?
To what end? To see if he felt something?
‘Nevertheless, it is done. My lawyers are in the process of drawing up the papers.’
He said the words with a finality that sent a heavy dose of apprehension skittering over her nerves. ‘Joao—’
He wrapped his hands on her upper arms, a dark intimacy trapping them as he brought her flush against his body. ‘You’re right, it vexes me that Ashby keeps attempting to steal what’s mine. But he’s not worthy of my attention and you won’t go to him because he’ll never challenge you the way I do. Now, I’m completely weary of this new argumentative side to you, Saffie. So do me a favour, and stop, hmm?’
Affronted, she opened her mouth to do the opposite. He countered with a simple, devastating act of sealing her mouth with his, stealing her protest and every thought in her head as blazing sensation flared wild and wide through her body.
He made a gruff noise and she realised she’d parted her lips to let him in, her ready invitation crackling the flames higher, straining her body closer to absorb more of the heady sensation.
Where was her circumspection? Her willpower?
Non-existent when it came to him, she was quickly realising.
She needed to get herself under control...and fast.
Because existing in this wild and unfettered state of sensual addiction was dangerous to every single goal she held dear.
CHAPTER FIVE
HE HAD TAKEN clean leave of his senses, allowing that burr of imbalance and dissatisfaction that had taken hold of him recently to inform his actions in a way he hadn’t acted since his favela days when rash decisions had regularly landed him in trouble.
But this was trouble of the most delicious kind. Trouble he wanted to dive headlong into and feast on, regardless of the consequences.
Sim...the kind that could alter his short-and long-term plans, pave way for his father to get the better of their battle of wills, if he wasn’t careful.
He shuddered as Saffie’s fingers spiked into his hair, gripping it with a silent demand and breathless enthusiasm that fired his blood and dragged a groan from his throat.
The sound froze them both, their tongues halting that control-shredding dance he yearned to continue. But knew he couldn’t.
He needed a little clarity.
Jeopardising this final defining battle with his father was out of the question.