“Terms and conditions change by the minute.”
I wag my finger, reverting to scolding him like a child. “Not in this case. What is it you do for a living exactly?”
“Taking an interest in me?” Chocolate-colored smoke ignites in his eyes. I wonder if he’d melt in my mouth.
Ripping my gaze off him takes more willpower than I’m willing to admit. “Consider it research of my own.”
“I buy businesses and make them bigger.”
“A global tycoon?” I’m not super positive about what that title entails, but it sounds cool.
Landon’s chest vibrates with amusement. It might be my imagination based on his stoic expression, though. “Sure, let’s call it that.”
“Are you a monopoly type of man?”
“Nah, that game has too many rules. I just take what I want.”
“How appealing.” And not at all surprising.
“You’re somewhat extraordinary too.” He’s giving me whiplash with his creative liberties.
I slap on a wide grin and cheese at him. “There you go giving me backhanded compliments again. Be careful, or I might think you’re trying to romance me.”
“There’s no threat of that happening. You should know better by now. If you don’t, the lesson will be easy enough to teach.”
The urge to flip him the bird twitches my middle finger. He’s the worst. Period. There’s no need to proceed with caution. Anyone with functioning vision and eardrums can attest to him being terrible. But I’m committed to the cause, dammit. Even so, he’s proving to be more foul than I originally gave him credit for.
Landon Winters represents everything that makes women run in the opposite direction. He’s the kind of wicked my mother steered me from, but I never believed such a man could exist. Yet there’s a piece that doesn’t quite fit. I’d risk losing this account on the odds that there are secrets lurking beneath his steely armor. The anger and hostility are a front to hide vulnerability underneath—I’m sure of it. He pushes people away with such practiced loathing that it must be a defense.
Suddenly, a new plan forms in my mind. I want to know what makes this man tick. I don’t believe he’s inherently rotten. Not down to the marrow, at least. Finding the good in people is somewhat of an obsession, and Landon Winters is one that might prove futile.
But there’s no harm in scratching the surface.
I reinforce my soft heart against his barbs and shove onward. “Since you’re clearly not ready to move on, let’s whip up a hypothetical. What happens after I let you fuck me?”
That gets his attention. Landon straightens in his seat, the strict position alluding to him being all ears. “Let me? Sugar, you should be begging for my attention. Other women would kill to be in your position.”
I snort. “Wow, your arrogance has no limits.”
“How kind of you to notice,” he counters.
“Just for the record, I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Yet.”
“Ever.”
“We’ll see.”
I inhale a cleansing breath. His ability to dominate and alter the direction for our dialogue makes me queasy. “Tell me, how does one become so clinical when it comes to personal relationships?”
It’s his turn to grunt. “That’s a bold word choice. Sex is merely a physical act, and doesn’t require more than mutual permission. Pleasure is even questionable.”
“I would strongly disagree. Sharing your body with someone is a deeply personal experience.”
“Maybe for an emotional individual such as yourself.” The snarl in his tone makes me cringe. “And only if the purpose is to form an attachment.”
“For the sake of curiosity, how long will these shallow flings satisfy you?”
“Until my cock refuses to participate without medical intervention.” His complexion goes a tad gray around the edges.
“I hear those little blue pills are miracle workers.”
“My future impotence, if I ever succumb to such grotesque weakness, is none of your concern. Feed your curiosity elsewhere.” His discomfort only serves to fuel me.
“Don’t you want to find someone who makes you happy for more than one night?”
“That’s what my business partners are for. They make me very wealthy, which in turn gives me more joy than any temporary affair.”
“Everyone craves intimacy,” I reason.
“False, Savannah.” His eyebrows slice inward, the two dark slashes almost becoming one. “Love is a fool’s fantasy. Relationships are better off as bargaining chips.”
“Wow, you’re not jaded or anything.”
“That’s just reality, sugar. I was never given the courtesy to assume otherwise.”
It’s a struggle to maintain my composure. I’ve just stepped into a juicy pile worthy of suffering through this drivel. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m a product of my environment.” His simple statement has zero chance of satisfying me.
“That’s not cryptic or anything.”
Landon’s scowl would make the devil shudder. “People in my position don’t have the luxury of dating for the fuck of it. Searching for a true match is juvenile. Not that the idea ever appealed to me, even at a young age.”
This is beginning to sound familiar, but I’m determined to uncover new intel. “So, you just magically stumble upon someone who meets criteria?”
“Don’t be dense,” he growls. “There’s an approved list to choose from. Don’t worry—I’m not lacking in the prospects department.”
I’m sure my expression reflects utter horror. My hopeless romantic soul is currently cowering in the corner. “Who’s orchestrating these unattainable guidelines? It sounds like nonsense to me.”
“That’s because you weren’t born with the expectations already in place.”
I furrow my brow. “Your parents?”
“They had an arrangement.” His reply is crisp and frosty.
“That feels so empty.” My stomach churns at the thought alone.
“Only if you’re careless enough to want more.”
“You’re trying to tell me these restrictions are for security reasons?”
Landon grinds his teeth, not spewing another syllable. I almost clench with the fear of him shutting down. Then he exhales a mouthful of pent-up frustration. “It goes well beyond that, as I’m sure you’re aware. Why are you fixated on this?”
“These customs are archaic. You must realize how backward this all sounds in modern times.”
“My practical choices amuse you?”
“Sure, let’s go with that. To be honest, it feels like I’m watching an episode of Reign.”
“I don’t know what that is.” That small confession seems to wound him as he turns his glare to a spot over my shoulder.
“A dramatic Renaissance period show about the royal hierarchy in Europe. It’s beginning to form a connection with your story.”
“My decisions have nothing to do with overtaking the throne. I already have it.” He swats at the air, clearing my ramblings away. “These traditions are steeped in power and stability and alliances. What would a common coupling provide me with?”