Page 25 of Claimed At First Sight

“But my memory isn’t the issue here. Your deflection is,” he continues. “You still haven’t told me if there’s something specific you’d like me to plant for you in Chicago.”

I set my coffee cup on the ground, buying myself a little more time to calm down.

Get it together, Mia. Don’t let him affect you.

I finally move a few inches away, putting a blessed gap between us, though the spot where his hand rested still tingles through my dress.

I turn to him and arrange my expression into what I hope passes for boredom.

“You’re seriously still stuck on flowers?” I’m proud of how calm my voice sounds when inside I’m anything but.

“I like knowing things about you. Things I can’t read in a file.”

My eyes widen. He has a file on me?

And why am I surprised? It’s how men like him operate.

Why would Maximo Marco actually talk to a woman when he can have someone compile a report?

I decide to take it as a compliment, because getting worked up about it would just amuse him, and I won’t be his morning entertainment.

I tilt my head and give him my sweetest smile.

“Of course you had to hire someone to study me. I’m far too much for you to figure out on your own.”

His smile widens. “Exactly.”

That catches me off guard.

“I like to know who I’m dealing with before I make an investment.”

So that’s how he sees me. Not as a person, but as an investment. Or, considering his plan for six heirs, perhaps broodmare is more accurate.

I keep my smile firmly in place and change tactics.

“Dandelions,” I say.

His brow lifts in a silent question.

“That’s my favorite flower.” I’m not even lying.

“A weed?”

Of course he’d see it like that. He’s so predictable. Typical for a man who thinks the world should be pruned and manicured to suit his vision.

“You’re just like everybody else, aren’t you? Missing the perfection that’s right in front of you.”

“I don’t think I do.”

The way he looks at me sends butterflies loose in my stomach.

Where is the insect spray when you need it?

“Why dandelions?”

I open my mouth, but my mind goes completely blank.

Wonderful. Maximo Marco has apparently murdered my witty retorts too.