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“You and he had a little blip in the media a few weeks ago.”
“Coincidence. We ran into each other.”
Dai raised a brow. “Really? He had dinner with my dad the other night.”
Her stomach clenched. “He did?”
“Yep. Dad liked him.”
Of course, he did. One ruthless businessman recognized another.
Dai straightened and tapped her lip. “If you know you’re going to be photographed with him in future, I’ll do the custom pieces for free. It’ll be excellent publicity for me.”
“I’ll pay for them,” she said with a tight smile.
Dai looked disappointed. “Shame.” Her expression turned crafty. “So you don’t mind if I take a crack at him?”
“Roth? Be my guest.”
Dai grinned. “He into crazy Chinese girls?”
“You’ll have to find out for yourself.”
“Maybe I will,” Dai said as she skipped out of the dressing room.
Jasmine shook her head and turned to examine the exposed gold zipper on the black patent leather skirt she wore that highlighted the curve of her ass. She had a ridiculously oversized but cozy scarf draped around her neck and a crop top that Dai had somehow talked her into. The crisscross top was somehow holding up her breasts and making them look amazing. The triangle of exposed skin on her abdomen didn’t look bad at all. Dai’s street style was impeccable. Even her sisters would wear some of these pieces.
After ten minutes went by, she emerged from the dressing room to see that the boutique was having a little rush. Dai was deep in conversation with two women, and both sales clerks were occupied with customers. Others browsed as they waited to be helped. She took the opportunity to peruse without Dai’s guidance. She ran her hands over the clothes, which were truly extraordinary. According to Dai, clothes were supposed to be a multi-sensory experience. Appealing to the eyes and pleasing to the touch—even the scent of leather could enhance one’s mood.
She hadn’t expected to run into Dai or be hustled into buying a whole new wardrobe, but she couldn’t deny that she was glad she came. Dai knew her stuff, and Jasmine was catwalk ready. As she admired a shimmering gold top, she looked over the rack and saw a man standing on the sidewalk watching her. He had one hand in the pocket of his suit. As she raised a brow at him, his mouth curved. He had a nice smile. He was in his early thirties and from the look on his face, he liked what he was seeing. He beckoned to her. She hadn’t decided how to react when another man came up behind him. Her gaze flicked to the other man, and her heart slammed against her ribs. Roth glared at her, and she slowly backed away from the glass. What the fuck was he doing here? And how had he found her?
As he approached the entrance of Black Jade, she made a beeline toward the dressing rooms. Her last encounter with him had left her wounded and bleeding, and she wasn’t prepared to see him face to face. She had been doing her utmost to forget their pending sordid deal and was doing a damn fine job of it before he showed up.
She skidded on suede heels as she entered the dressing room and turned to close the door, but she was too late. He shoved his way in while she desperately tried to get her shields in place.
Chapter 13
“What are you doing here?” she hissed.
He locked the door and turned. She considered screaming for help, but pride told her she could handle him… and what could he do to her in a public place?
When he stepped forward, her back hit the mirror. “Get out.”
“You like attention, Jasmine?” he asked in a voice that made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand up.
“What?”
“Would you have gone out to meet him?”
She lifted her chin. “I can do whatever the hell I want.”
“You think so?” he murmured as he reached out and gripped her chin.
When she tried to claw his hand, he leaned into her, pinning her to the mirror. His rage beat at her although nothing showed on his face. He rocked against her, and she went rigid.
“This pussy is mine. Bought and paid for.”
She smacked his chest hard enough to make her hand sting. “You’re renting it.”
