automatic answer “It doesn’t” would have bounced out of her mouth. But she was sensible enough not to bluff with a man who only had one equal at The Zone for interpreting body language and tone, and that was herself. It raised her hackles though, for him to exercise his power as a Dom at this moment, calling her out and making it clear, albeit in a mild and courteous way, that he wouldn’t accept an evasive answer.
People lied all the time in the real world with a bouquet of pleasantries to deceive no one, only to make evasiveness palatable, acceptable. In The Zone, Doms didn’t allow subs to do that. It was all about getting to the pure naked core of every thought, no dissembling on any level.
“That’s not really something I care to discuss. It’s my problem, not yours.” That was as honest an answer as it had been a question. And it was all of the answer he was getting. “You’re welcome to be here. If you need anything, let Chloe or Genevieve know. I’ve got some things to finish in the back but I’ll be out when they lock up in about thirty minutes.”
He nodded, those amber eyes never shifting from her face but making slight movements, revealing that he was watching her lips as she spoke, the sweep of her lashes, even the sparse movements of her hands. “I’ll be here. Go finish your day. I’ll wait as long as you need.”
Like she needed his permission.
Her lips tightening to suppress a retort, she turned precisely on her heel and headed back the way she had come, intensely aware of the curious looks from Mrs. Allen’s table. Her regulars would be wondering about that corkscrew curl move but she kept on her cool smile and moved briskly enough that no one engaged her. Her track took her into the reflection path of the large Victorian mirror mounted to the left of the kitchen entrance, so she could see him.
He was watching her. Quite deliberately, making her acutely aware of the swing of her hips beneath the fitted skirt, the glimpse of the back of her knees and curve of calves that would be displayed as she walked in her heels. His regard made her aware of the fact she’d chosen seamed stockings, and this pair had a tiny embroidered rose in black thread just above the delicate anklebone. Even the soft brush of that curl along her temple was intensified by the memory of his touch there.
His gaze met hers in the mirror right before she entered the kitchen. One corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile, and from the expression in his eyes, she wouldn’t have put it past him to mortify her with a wolf whistle. She escaped through the door, but her own lips were twitching with a near smile, reminding her that she liked Tyler Winterman. She was just deathly afraid of the effect he had on her.
Taking the two steps up into her side office, she closed her door. Chloe and Gen were used to her doing that at the end of the day so she could focus on receipts. It gave her an excuse now to collect her thoughts. And watch Tyler.
The large Victorian mirror was a façade for a two-way mirror, the window side mounted on the wall of her raised office so she could keep an eye on the floor. It helped her anticipate when Chloe and Gen could use a hand, or she needed to come out to greet a frequent or new customer, underscoring the sophisticated charm and service her tea room was known to lavish on its clientele.
In this instance, it gave her the opportunity to study him further. He had left the bistro chair, and was now perusing her display wall. It offered pieces from the full tea sets that clients could request for the serving of their chosen beverage, everything from English porcelain to Japanese and Chinese clay. With one hand, he touched the tuocha, a compressed tea shaped like a bird’s nest, then he moved on to examine the copper shine of the Russian samovar with its ornate dragon tap.
She had originals under glass that ranged from one hundred and fifty to one thousand years old, the latter being the YiXing set from the Ming Dynasty. Her very first tea set was also under glass, a child’s set of colorful ceramic cups and matching small teapot. It sat within the