Androssi couldn’t hide the surprise that came over his face. “Retired?”
“Yes. But I have no doubt I’ll be able to raise my units with my new release—without her.” She was my most erotic fantasy, and that desire carried over into my creations. Men could still make their dreams come true, even if they didn’t see my greatest model on the runway. She wasn’t showing her nearly naked body to the world anymore. She was only modeling for me now.
He sat back against the leather seat, the devastation obvious in his expression. “I won’t tell you how to run your business, Conway. But I think that’s a mistake. She’s become an international sensation, a sex symbol. If she doesn’t step onto that stage for your next show, I think there will be consequences.”
“I don’t give a shit what you think, Androssi.”
Tension filled the air between us, his eyes narrowing in offense as my hands formed fists. Androssi would be smart to remember that he needed me a lot more than I needed him. I was one of the biggest clients in the fabric world. Acquiring me would make him a very rich man.
Muse cleared her throat. “Once Conway debuts his new line, he’ll get the orders in for his pieces. Then you guys can decide how to move forward.”
I’d told her not to speak, but her mediation was necessary. I’d just been insulted by this man, and then I’d insulted him in return. Only the grace of a beautiful woman could calm our anger.
Androssi’s shoulders softened once Muse made her statement. “Yes, let’s reconvene.”
“I will get those units to you, Androssi. But now, if you want my business, it’s a thirty-percent reduction.”
“That’s—”
“Thirty. Percent.” I grabbed my glass and downed the wine before I rose to my feet, pulling Muse with me. I tossed euros on the table because I didn’t want to feel like I owed this man anything. Then I stormed off.
Muse stayed behind, facing Androssi with an apologetic look. “Thank you for meeting us tonight. We’ll be in touch.”
I glared at her, my hand itching to grasp her waist and pull her out of there. If she were just my property, I wouldn’t refrain from slapping her across the face or yanking her out by the hair.
But that would break the promise I made to her.
I yanked off my jacket and tossed it on the back of the chair. My tie was pulled loose and thrown on the couch. I pulled the cigars out of my drawer and lit up before I inhaled the thick smoke into my lungs. I didn’t smoke often, but when I did, it killed my sour mood.
Muse yanked the cigar out of my mouth and shoved it into the ashtray. “This is poison.”
“Anything good is poison.” I picked up the lighter and sparked the flame.
She snatched it out of my hand as well and slammed it on the table. “No smoking, Conway. I mean it.”
“Don’t talk to me like you have some kind of power over me.” She had no authority over what I did. I’d smoke until I got lung cancer—that was my choice. I wouldn’t change my mind just because a beautiful woman asked me to.
“I do have power over you. Let’s not pretend I don’t.”
“You’re stupid if you think you do.” I was speaking out of anger, frustrated that people continued to doubt my ability to deliver quality work. I was the inventor of the art. Muse simply wore it.
She peeled off her dress until it was a pile at her feet. She left on the black thong, and she slowly ripped off the tape that kept her nipples flat. Her pink mountains finally came free, immediately pebbling when they came into contact with the cool air.
I tried not to stare.
She crawled into my lap and straddled my hips, her perfectly soft body brushing against the crispness of my slacks. She unbuttoned my collared shirt, revealing my naked chest with her small fingertips. With her hair pulled over one shoulder and a confident expression in her eyes, she was absolutely stunning on my lap.
And just like that, I began to harden.
Fuck.
“No smoking.” She spoke with the anger in her eyes then rage. “I mean it, Conway. All it does is hurt you.”
“And what does alcohol do?”
“Alcohol is different. Smoking kills. If I ever see you with another cigar—”
“You’ll what?” I challenged. “Slap me on the wrist?”
“No.” Her nails dug into me threateningly. “I’ll take away the one thing you love most.”
She didn’t need to spell it out for me because I knew exactly what she was referring to.
Her.
“So, no smoking,” she repeated. “And you need to calm down.”
“I told you not to talk at dinner.”
“And you thought I would listen?” she asked incredulously. “You were a complete ass. I had to smooth things over.”