Under His Sway Read Online Free PDF Page B

enough—sent myself to prep school and then college in the States, which, unfortunately, required I spend said reviled trust fund money. Such a scandal. Have I mentioned I was a very bad son?”
    I knew I should have been wary when Chloe narrowed her eyes at me, still pensive and prodding. “They didn’t visit you after she passed? You didn’t have grandparents on her side doting on you?”
    “There were a couple of visits, but they lost interest soon enough. Maybe it was that I didn’t resemble them closely enough. Or maybe they were just ashamed of the family name I came with.”
    “It can’t be that infamous,” she insisted. “I didn’t recognize Knight as a particularly dastardly name when I heard it.”
    Hiding behind her shoulder, I traced my lips against her smooth skin and willed this question to go away. “It doesn’t matter, Miss Bloom. You’re capable of judging me in the flesh, and you’ve done so often enough that I know you’re not adverse.”
    “I’m just getting to know you. There’s time to change my mind.” That response should have broken the sudden melancholy shadowing me.
    “Mm, yes. Eleven weeks, isn’t it?” Her limit on our arrangement still galled me, and she still insisted on reminding me of it whenever I drew her considerable ire.
    This time, instead of hardening her jaw and nodding in approval at my affirmation of our purely temporary and restricted agreement—lust without love, passion but with finite potential—Chloe looked nearly as dejected as I felt. Small comfort.
    ***
    “I believe someone warrants a spanking when we get back to the villa, Miss Bloom.”
    “Correction or punishment, sir?” I asked under my breath before turning to face Gabriel and Luiz amid the greatly improved garden beds of the eco park project site. The dusky, dusty young project manager was still nodding at my suggestions regarding the placement of vertical beds while gesturing wildly in dismissal of Adrian’s argument.
    Rolling his eyes, Knight shook his head. “Putting vertical beds there casts shadows on those two beds. That won’t work. And it’s bloody energy-intensive at the rate Luiz works.”
    As one, Gabriel and I pointed to the same spot, just outside the utilized space and beside the raised wooden platform supporting the tent the foreman frequently stayed in after long night on the project. “If Luiz moves those beds over there, it leaves us room for multiple vertical beds without the shadow problem,” I explained.
    The wiry nineteen-year-old shook his head and his calloused hands so vehemently that his battered straw hat almost flew off with the force. “No. No, Luiz isn’t moving any garden beds anywhere. Do you know how long it took me to build those where they are? How many times he said no? No, too big, too long, too narrow, too short. I won’t do it over.”
    “Luiz,” Adrian cautioned.
    The boy folded his lean arms and rocked back on one hip in a defiant posture, and I hid my grin behind my hand, trying not to insert myself in this old argument. “No, send me to jail if you want, rich man. The slave boy is not doing it.”
    Amid Luiz’s characteristic outburst of rebelliousness and Gabriel’s adamant and steady stream of gesticulated Portuguese, Knight pressed his fingertips to his forehead and muttered under his breath. I was sure I heard my name a couple of times. Moving to stand beside the project manager as a visible demonstration of alliance, I repeated his nods and his gestures, pointing from the existing beds to the new spaces.
    “Visualize it, Adrian. It makes sense. It’s a pain in the butt, but you can’t deny it.”
    Without lifting his head, Knight grumbled, “I know. I know.”
    “Good, that’s settled.” I crossed the few feet between us and took hold of the arm Adrian had folded across his chest, supporting the opposite elbow. “Now, if you’ll indulge me, I really want to see the first dwelling site. I have some ideas…”
    This finally