Siler House was like the belle of the ball, dressed in elegant black, discreetly standing in the shadows and watching her guests.

“You have got to stop sending me flowers,” I told him laughingly while I was in my bath and he was in Dubai, meeting with oil sheikhs for the newest real estate project of Kastein, Inc.

          “But I like doing it. I keep thinking how when I have you in my bed, I’d use all those petals to sprinkle all over you, tickle you, use it to caress your clit---” He paused then asked wickedly, “Are you turned on now?”

          “None of your business,” I managed to say.

          He laughed.

          That sound never failed to make my day – or night. Sinking more deeply into my bubble bath, I said again, “I’m serious. Knowing how much you’re spending on me with each bouquet is giving me a headache.”

          I could hear him frowning as he answered, “Is this my fucking courtship or what?”

          Knowing it was never a good thing to have long-distance quarrels, I said quickly, “I sent you a picture message. Did you get it?”

          He didn’t answer, but I could hear the faint sound of his fingers tapping on the screen of his mobile phone. Then “Yanna.” This time, he sounded more exasperated than angry, allowing me to breathe a sigh of relief.

          I had sent him a picture message of a floral bouquet, with an e-card attached.

You are so cute!

          Remembering the message made me giggle.

          Constantijin said darkly, “And I am not cute.”

          That had me giggling even more.

          “You are playing with me again.”

          “Yes, this time, I am,” I admitted, unable to keep myself from grinning. God, I couldn’t believe I was having this kind of conversation with Constantijin. I mean, what were the odds? He wasn’t much of a caller – and God knew how he hated sending text messages. If he had ever enjoyed a call with another woman before, it would probably have been the hardcore variety of phone sex.

          “You are a bad girl.”

          God, I loved it when his accent thickened and he started talking simplified English. “I learned from a bad man.”

          He sucked in his breath. “I’ve never been this aroused from a mere call.”

          That didn’t make us even, not even close. I had never been aroused – until I met him. Still smiling my insanely smitten smile, I asked softly, “Did you like the picture, though?”

          A smile was also in his voice when he answered softly, “Yes.”

          I ventured, “That’s the kind of bouquet I’d love you to give me.”

          Silence from the other line.

          “Constantijin?”

          “You are for real?”

          A giggle escaped me at his incredulous tone. I tried to explain, “I’m just really uncomfortable with the money you’re spending on me.”

          “Then you are truly serious?”

          My giggle turned into genuine laughter. “Yes, Constantijin. I am.”

          A sigh escaped him. “I do not understand you at all.”

          I think that’s a good thing, but I knew I was better off not saying it.

          “If you do not want me spending my money on flowers, then what should I spend my money on? I want something that would please you.”

          “Text messages cost money,” I told him helpfully. My phone started to ring in the background.

          “Answer it,” he ordered.

          “No, it’s okay---”

          “Please.”

          Sighing, I wiped one hand dry in the towel hanging from the rail and fumbled for my phone from the expansive sink. My eyes widened. “You’re calling me?” But Constantijin had already ended the call to my wireless. Placing the wireless on the dry part of the sink, I answered his call to my mobile phone, inhaling sharply when I saw Constantijin appear on the screen.

          Bare-chested.

          “Constantijin!” My insides turned into jelly at the sight of him wearing nothing but a pair of flannel pants, his fair skin gleaming in the darkness of the night. He was standing at the balcony of his hotel room, leaning against the rails. Even just through the iPhone’s screen I could appreciate how stunning Dubai’s views were, with its mixture of urban paradise and wild desert beauty - a perfect background for someone as untamed and gorgeous as Constantijin Kastein.

          “I wish you were here, schat.”

          His huskily spoken words made my toes curl under the bubble.

          “If you were here, I would have fucked you in this very spot, taking you from behind while you watched the world and they watched you, knowing that they cannot have you because you are mine.”

          “Constantijin.” Oh, dear. I think I had to have another shower after this. I was wet for a whole different reason now. I pushed myself up---

          “You’re in the bath?”

          Oh, shit, I forgot.

          I sank right back in the bubbles.

          “Yanna.” His voice was harsh, and through the video call I could see his face turning taut with the same need coursing through my body, sparking every nerve until I was almost shaking with desire.

          “Take pity on a poor man and show me your breasts again, sweetheart.”

          “I can’t.”

          “Yes, you can.”

          I shook my head mutely.

          The intensity of his gaze, the acute frustration in his eyes – it all reached out to me even though we were half a world apart. Swallowing, I said, “Just for a second.”

          “Thirty,” he immediately bargained.

          “Ten, starting now.” I rose from the water, completely baring my breasts to his sight. Even as I could feel myself blushing, with my nipples turning hard, I didn’t lose track of my mental counting. One...two...three...oh God, this was getting embarrassing! EightnineTEN!

          I sank back into my bubble bath with a swoosh, face completely on fire now.

          “That was not ten seconds,” Constantijin growled.

          “Goodbye, Constantijin.”

          “Don’t you dare hang up.”

          Giggling, I so dared.

          My phone beeped a second later, and still smiling to myself I opened Constantijin’s message.

          I repeat, that was NOT ten seconds.

          It was. I counted. I swear.

          Good thing I always keep a record of my video calls.

          I shot up from my bath, hitting the call button immediately.

          “Yanna,” he practically purred into my ear.

          “Constantijin,” I growled back. “Delete it.”

          “No.” I could totally imagine him grinning his wicked grin right now, especially when he said, “I’ll see you in Monday.”

          “Don’t you dare hang up!”

          But he did.