Everything, Ivy thought, oh God, everything…
“Nothing,” she said airily. “Well, Kay and I went into foster care. When she turned eighteen, she got a job and a place of her own.”
“And you went with her?”
“No.” Ivy bit her lip. “I stayed in foster care.”
“And?”
And my world changed, forever.
But she didn’t say that. Her life was none of his business, and that was exactly what she told him.
“The only part of my life that concerns you,” she said sharply, “is my pregnancy.”
Ivy expected one of those cold commands that were his specialty or, at least, an argument. Instead, to her surprise, Damian gave her a long, questioning look. Then he turned away and pressed the call button.
The steward appeared as quickly as if he were conjured up from Aladdin’s lamp.
“We would like dinner now, Thomas,” Damian said. “Broiled salmon. Green salad with oil and vinegar. Baked potatoes.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
He was doing it again. Thinking for her. Speaking about her as if she were incapable of speaking for herself. It made her angry and that was good.
Anger was a safer emotion than whatever Damian had made her feel a little while ago.
“I’m not hungry,” Ivy said sharply.
Nobody answered. Nobody even looked at her.
“I’ll have a glass of Riesling first, Thomas. And please bring Ms. Madison some Perrier and lemon.”
“I do not want—”
“No lemon in the Perrier? Of course. No lemon, Thomas. Neh?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Ivy smoldered but kept silent until they were alone. Then she swung angrily toward Damian, who was calmly putting the documents he’d been reading into a leather briefcase.
“Do you have a hearing problem? I said I wasn’t hungry!”
“You are eating for two.”
“That’s outmoded nonsense!”
“If you are vain enough to wish to starve yourself—”
“I am not starving myself!”
“hi,” Damian said evenly. “That is correct. You are not. I will not permit it.”
“Damn it,” Ivy snarled, letting her anger rise, embracing it, reminding herself that she hated this man, that it would be dangerous to let any other emotion come into play where he was concerned, “I don’t even understand what you’re saying. Since when does ‘no’ mean ‘yes’ and ‘okay’ mean ‘no’?”
He looked blank. Then he chuckled. “It’s not ‘no,’ it’s ‘neh.’ It means ‘yes.’ And I didn’t say ‘okay,’ I said hi, which means ‘no.’”
Yes was no. No was yes. Would a white rabbit pop out of the carpet next?