But I was still a woman.
My plan was to soften him up, to make him want me enough that he wouldn’t hand me over to Bones. If I made myself valuable to him, he would want to keep me. I wasn’t entirely sure if my plan had worked or not. After we slept together, he didn’t seem to have any affection toward me. In fact, it seemed like he hated me even more. His decision to change the punishment may have been coincidental, having something to do with Bones or the circumstance. I would never know because he would never tell me.
He must have seen me in the reflection of the glass because he spoke. “Sleep well?”
“Like a rock.”
He sipped his coffee and continued to stare out the window. He didn’t say anything else, still quiet in his repose.
Finley emerged from the kitchen, wearing a white chef jacket that went over his collared shirt and slacks. “I was just about to make breakfast for Mr. Donoghue. Would you like anything, Lady London?”
My stomach growled in response. Thankfully, I was the only one who heard it. “Please. I’ll eat anything.”
Crewe sipped his coffee again. “I’m glad you’ve finally changed your attitude. Most people would take advantage of having a personal chef.”
Finley ignored his master’s comments. “You’ll need to be more specific, Lady London. Because I can make anything.” He gave me an affectionate smile, warm in contradiction to Crewe’s coldness. He had wrinkles around his eyes, but they somehow made him comforting. He was the only person who was remotely nice to me here.
I should take advantage of that more often. “I’ll have whatever Mr. Donoghue is having.”
Crewe turned around and finally looked at me, the front of his shirt coated in sweat. “Call me Crewe—that’s it.” He stared me down, daring me to defy him in front of his butler. “Nothing else.”
All I did was nod.
“Mr. Donohue likes egg whites with a side of grilled greens,” Finley explained. “Would you like that as well?”
I couldn’t stop myself from cringing. “Yuck, absolutely not. Who the hell eats that for breakfast?”
“A man who looks like this.” He moved his hand across his rock-hard abs, making a point.
I rolled my eyes. “Arrogance isn’t sexy.”
“I’m confident,” he corrected.
“Confidence is quiet,” I argued. “And you aren’t quiet.”
Instead of being angry, the corner of his lip rose in a smile. “You’re cute when you’re a smartass.”
Both of my eyebrows rose. “Are you flirting with me?”
“No. If I were flirting with you, you’d be bent over the kitchen table by now.” The corner of his mouth was still raised in a smile, but his eyes smoldered with intent.
My cheeks flushed since Finley was standing right there, listening to all of this.
Finley spoke as if he didn’t hear a single thing. “Then what would you like, Lady London?”
“You can just call me London.” The title was unnecessary.
“No,” Crewe interrupted. “You’re to call her Lady London.”
Finley didn’t object.
But I did. “If I want to be addressed by my name, that’s how I’ll be addressed.”
“Not in this house,” Crewe threatened. “I own everything under this roof—including you.”
I shot him a disgusted look. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
“Would you say I’m better than Bones?” he countered. “Because I’ll gladly hand you over to him if that’s where you want to be.” He covered up his smile by sipping his coffee.
Now I really hated him.
“What will it be, Lady London?” Finley asked. “I can whip up anything, especially American delicacies.”
The thought of food made me forget Crewe. “Can you make pancakes?”
“The fluffiest pancakes in the world,” Finley said with a smile. “Anything else?”
“Bacon and eggs?” I asked hopefully. “Maybe some toast?”
“Of course. Coming right up.” Finley pulled items out of the fridge and got to work. “Have a seat and drink some coffee.”
I moved to a chair at the table and cupped the mug with my hands, feeling the warmth.
Crewe continued to lean against the counter as he stared at me. “That’s a big appetite for one person.”
“Not when you haven’t eaten in three days.”
He chuckled under his breath and took a seat across from me at the table. I preferred this table to the one in the other room, where I sat naked and Bones grabbed my tits like he already owned my body without paying for it. Crewe sipped his coffee and stared at me head-on, his gaze dark and intimidating. I felt like I was being stripped naked with just his expression.
I refused to be intimidated by this man. I didn’t believe he was as dangerous as he claimed. He never hurt me unless I gave him a reason to, and he did listen to me if I begged enough. I was actually grateful to be sitting across from him right now—and not that other man.