Yvonne had no intention of offending a client, but Rowan’s words were becoming increasingly outrageous.

She curved her lips into a polite but cool smile, standing firm yet composed. “Mr. Mercer, if you’re here to find a lady, you’ve come to the wrong establishment. This is a sales office, not a nightclub. The only thing for sale here is property.”

Rowan smirked, mistaking her restraint for pretense. His tone was lazily insolent, dripping with entitled ...