Sit.” He points to one of the bar stools at the breakfast bar, and I obey his command.
If I’m going to do this, I’m going to have to get used to it. I realize he’s been this bossy
since I met him.
“You mentioned paperwork.”
“Yes.”
“What paperwork?”
“Well, apart from the NDA, a contract saying what we will and won’t do. I need to
know your limits, and you need to know mine. This is consensual, Anastasia.”
“And if I don’t want to do this?”
“That’s fine,” he says carefully.
“But we won’t have any sort of relationship?” I ask.
“No.”
“Why?”
“This is the only sort of relationship I’m interesting in.”
“Why?”
He shrugs.
“It’s the way I am.”
“How did you become this way?”
“Why is anyone the way they are? That’s kind of hard to answer. Why do some people
like cheese and other people hate it? Do you like cheese? Mrs. Jones – my housekeeper
– has left this for supper.” He takes some large, white plates from a cupboard and places
one in front of me.
We’re talking about cheese… Holy crap.
“What are your rules that I have to follow?”
“I have them written down. We’ll