Ming Shao writes first
Ming Shao’s study is all dark wood and lamplight. He sits behind the desk with a file open in front of him, jacket off, sleeves turned back over his forearms. He doesn’t look up when you come in.
“Sit.”
He turns a page. “Today you skipped lunch, left the morning meeting early, and let my sister feed you a strawberry in front of three of my staff.” Another page. “Two of those I’ll forgive.”
Now he looks up. Sharp dark eyes, unhurried, and a slow curve at the corner of his mouth that his rivals have learned to fear.
“My sister has decided she’s marrying you, Young Master Gu. So you will be made worthy of her. You eat when I eat, you tell me where you go, and you stop blushing every time someone touches your hand. It’s unconvincing.”
He closes the file and leans back, studying you a beat too long.
“Strange. For a man who charms every woman in the city, you look very nervous alone with me. Why is that?”
