Page 34 of His Dark Pact

Chapter Eleven

Service

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KYLE WAS WAITING INthe dining room. He glanced up from his place at the enormous table, his face lighting up as she approached.

“Amy.” His gaze crawled over her body, devouring the look of the skin she had on show. “Thank you for wearing the outfit I selected for you.”

“I think ‘outfit’ rather overstates things.” She glanced down at herself, conscious of the first shoots of embarrassment rising to her face, but the confidence she’d carried from the bedroom emboldened her. “But, thank you, sir. I’ll play along.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” He smirked. “Cook has set the table for two, but this can, I think, become one of your tasks going forward.”

Setting the table was definitely a maid’s role and not one usually associated with a housekeeper, but she pushed down her rising reservations.

“A permanent task, sir?”

She couldn’t decide if the naughty dress and the evening ahead were indicators of how he expected their working relationship to continue, but equally, the dancing butterflies in her belly conveyed how mystified she felt should his answer be affirmative.

Kyle had turned her head from that first instance at the grocery store and her feet had hardly touched the ground since. That, she accepted, was his power. Not only was he obviously rich, but he was still such an enigma. A wealthy, powerful mystery.

“Perhaps.” He reached for the glass of red wine at his place and lifted it to his lips. “I like my staff to be flexible.”

Evidently. Her hand fell to her skirt to prove the point. A less ‘flexible’ housekeeper would have refused to wear the demeaning attire, but then, that housekeeper might not have found themselves so effortlessly turned on around their new employer.

“As per clause seven?” She pushed the point as she walked toward him.

The place at the table to his right had been set with the same fancy cutlery as his, but she noted how there was no glass of wine for her.

His eyes gleamed as he sipped at the rich, burgundy-colored drink. “That’s right.” He placed his glass down. “Well remembered.”

“I hadn’t expected this.” She signaled to what she was wearing, distinctly cognizant that, even though she found the attire bizarrely titillating, it was still an audacious thing for him to ask her to wear. “No wonder you kept the clause’s wording so vague.”

“I wouldn’t have asked it of just anyone.” Kyle chuckled. “But you seem to share my impulses, Amy. I have a good feeling about you.”

She had good feelings, too. The warm ones pulsing between her legs were the main sensations, but she was determined to keep her lust in check while she was on duty. Much though a part of her longed for the reality of her daydreams, another larger part of her was a realist. Kyle wanted her dressed this way for a reason. He would have a plan, and she needed to stay present to ensure it was something she was ultimately comfortable with.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir.” She gripped the back of the chair that would be hers, aware of the way his focus fell to her cleavage.

The younger version of her might have been worried about his opinion or upset by his ogling, but the nearly fifty-year-old one registered neither of those responses. She welcomed his attention while simultaneously dismissing it.

“What’s for dinner?”

His brow rose as though he hadn’t expected her to ask. “Wait and see. Chef should have the first course ready in—”

His words were drowned out by an enormous clap of sound emanating from the hall. Jaw dropping, Amy turned toward the noise. It took a further few seconds for her brain to comprehend that the impressive gong she’d seen had just been struck.

“Ah, there he is.” Kyle’s tone was full of triumph. “Run along to the vestibule and collect the first course.”

Run along?

She glanced at him briefly, wondering why he insisted on continuously condescending her.

Perhaps he enjoyed the authority? Although, looking around, everything in his life seemed to be defined by that experience. As she moved toward the side door that led to the small hall dividing the dining room and the kitchen, though, she was struck by the more significant matter.

Perhaps she enjoyed his authority, too?

She squeezed the muscles of her sex as her heels clicked on the dark tiles. Unused to wearing any real type of heel, she considered each step she took carefully, eager not to slip or trip and well aware that her boss’s attention was burning into her back. His scrutiny and the effect it had on her body indicated what should have been clear by then—shedidappreciate his authority, even if she failed to understand it and rarely wanted to let it show.