"Oooooh, the chase is on tiger," Jim laughed manically, looking like his phone had given him extreme pleasure. "I knew he wouldn't have been able to resist."
Jim licked his lips excitedly, not looking at me.
"Get what you wanted," I asked, continuing to chop vegetables. Jim insisted we had a chef for a reason but I liked having the chance to make a few things.
"You knew I would darling," he laughed. "I always do. Oooh Sherlock. This is going to be delicious," he said with his eyes sparkling.
I said nothing, continuing to make dinner. Spiced risotto, Jim's favourite. We didn't say anything for the next half hour while I finished putting everything together.
"Jim?"
"What?"
"You love him, don't you."
I'd said it before I had even thought about saying it and he stopped typing. I stared down at the plates and dished up the food, feeling his eyes on me.
"What did you just say?"
I glared at him.
"Don't act like you didn't hear me," I hissed, startling myself with how womanly I sounded.
He stood from the sofa and walked towards me slowly with an inscrutable expression.
"Say it again," he whispered. I blinked at him.
"Say that," he paused, "again."
I ignored him and pushed past to the dining room. He followed, the sound of his shoes slick against the expensive wooden floor.
"Sebastian," he said threateningly as I sat down at the table and began to eat. He pulled the fork from my hand and held it against my neck.
"Who do you work for," he asked slowly in a low growl.
"You," I replied, already on autopilot. I was not allowed emotion in this job.
"Right," he replied, the sharp metal digging into me. "Don't forget that." He caressed my cheek with the edge of it, looking at me with a quizzical expression. It changed rapidly to one of anger and it took me a moment to realise I was holding him off the ground by his shirt. When had that happened?
He was an inch from my nose.
"Do you love him," I asked again, softly.
Jim was a demon, cold to the core and torturous beyond belief. Something in his eyes at that moment though, he softened. His look was one of quiet concern.
"Would it hurt you if I did?"
"Yes," I reluctantly admitted, the feel of his breath across me as we stared at each other, only a few centimeters apart now. He slowly brought his tongue across my lower lip and sighed.
"Then yes."