chapter 22:Isobel

How had this night started so well only to end in such a way? I had taken care to look this gorgeous, and for what? The man couldn't even look at me properly when it was hours ago he couldn't seem to stop admiring me from head to foot. I was starting to hate myself for even wanting his attention. Seriously, what was wrong with me?

The walk towards the awaiting pilot and the helipad was done in silence. There was no talk of how fun his card playing had been, or how brilliant it had been to win in such a way.

The same irritating manner went with the short helicopter ride from the yacht to his hotel at The Riviera.

The prolonged, silent standoff made me wish to scratch a chalkboard to evoke some kind of reaction from him. But no, the bastard was in one of his mercurial moods, so I best entertain myself until boredom eventually killed me.

Following his lead, I wasn't at all surprised when he produced a keycard the second we entered the elevator to take us to his private penthouse suite. With the amount of alcohol he had in his system, driving wasn't the wisest thing to do.

"You look upset," he said the second we entered the double doors to the suite.

I look upset? Ha! Upset was rather mild to describe the storm that had been whirling about me since that woman had touched him.

"Piss off," was all I said as I tried to focus on the elegant surroundings. I knew it was pretty, but it somehow didn't register because I couldn't seem to take in anything other than his close proximity.

"What did I do now?" he asked casually before he strode past me and went straight to the bar where he poured himself a hefty amount of cognac. He then let his drink sit on the marble countertop while he took off his bowtie, jacket, and before I even had the chance to register anything else he was down to unbuttoning his dress shirt until it hung loose and open, showcasing his superb pectoral and abdominal muscled perfection.

My mouth ran dry before I urged myself to look away, blushing profusely.

"Isobel?"

Fuck. Get it together, I chided myself before I faced him again. He was taking a careful sip of his drink while his eyes hadn't wavered from me.

"I don't have any clothes." To be quite frank, this was the last thing that had been on my list, but for some reason, it was the one that my mouth blurted out. Feeling like an idiot? Oh, no, I definitely was one tonight.

"There's a robe in the master bathroom," he informed me while I simply kept staring at him. "I want to touch you whenever I want. I don't want any lacey or silky scrap of clothing to hinder me from your body."

We'll see about that, shall we?

I left for the bathroom, fuming at the thought of him throwing it out there, as if tonight I hadn't witnessed him failing to bar women from thinking that he delighted himself in accommodating their brazen advances.

Stripping the blasted dress, I yanked the robe off the hanger before I covered my body with only a mere thong hiding behind the soft, plush robe. I didn't care that he'd requested me naked underneath it. This was my way of showing him that I was rebelling from his orders. He could take it however he saw fit.

The thought of washing my make-up off came to a halt when he didn't care to knock on the door before letting himself into the massive bathroom.

"I was hoping you could join me in the hot tub? It might do you the world."

"I'm fine," I gritted out, wishing he'd leave me alone to simmer in peace.

The bastard didn't seem pleased. "You're going to join me, Isobel."

"I said no, Hugo."

His jaws locked as he gave me a brooding look. He seemed to try to control his temper before addressing me again. "Are you defying my orders?"

Fuck. He couldn't be serious.

Bracing my chest, I was about to respond to him that yes, I was defying him when his chilling voice cut through the tension.

"The door is open if you wish to walk out. I'm not holding you hostage."

Mindfuck. He was playing me to get what he wanted. Bastard!

"Very well. Have a great night," I called his bluff before turning around and heading towards the door

"Très bien. And please, don't forget to inform your father that he still owes me money. My lawyers will contact him tomorrow for the balance owed, with your services deducted of course."

He flagged me down with a threat, knowing very well that my father didn't have money to pay him even half of what he owed.

"Tonight, you played with what? A quarter million? Maybe half? My father's debt is laughable compared to how much you spend on entertainment. Couldn't you at least pardon him just this once?"

"And why would I do that, Isobel? Your father means nothing to me. Pardons and favors are out of the question."

He was selfish, and he wasn't holding back on showing me who was in charge of the situation. I didn't have a choice. It was either stay or walk out and deal with my father's wrath for doing so. And the latter was too horrific to even dare think about.

"You win, Hugo," I conceded as I exited the door and went in search of the hot tub.