That last word is going to jar him for sure. Men like him don’t enjoy having their macho pride dented. I see his eyes flicker a little, a sign that I hit home. He breathes in and considers his come-back, trying to look unbowed.
“I was perhaps overcome by your beauty, Madame.”
That’s not bad. Humility and flattery rolled into one. No bristling ego. Maybe he understands now what I want from him.
“Last time I saw you I said that when you are prepared to do exactly what I want then you should call me. I haven’t received any call.”
“I have not been in this country until now, Madame. More importantly, you did not give me a number to call, or I would have.”
That’s much better. There is sincerity in the eyes, no smirk to suggest he thinks this is a game that will end up with him gripping me
