Rhys leaned back in his chair, the sunlight catching on the faint gold trim of his cufflinks."Then what did you mean?"
Maya's eyes flicked away, finding sudden fascination in the swirl of juice in her glass. "I meant… someone like me doesn't just fall into this kind of… situation."
He didn't speak right away. Instead, he reached forward, cutting a piece of ripe melon and sliding the plate toward her. "You think you just fell into it?" His voice was quiet, but the edge of amusement was there.
She hesitated, picking up her fork. "You're saying it wasn't an accident?"
"I'm saying," he replied, leaning forward so his elbows rested on the table, "everything that happened last night… and everything that's going to happen after… was already set in motion the moment we met."
Maya's fork froze halfway to her mouth. "You sound like you planned this."
Rhys smirked. "I always plan, Maya. The only difference is… I enjoy it more when my opponent thinks they're the one in control."
