“What are you doing now?” he asks. 

“Other than talking to my husband? I wrapped up a phone meeting with Abby right before you called. At the moment, I’m just enjoying my view.”

“What a coincidence,” he says. “So am I.”

I picture him standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows that make up one wall of his penthouse office at Stark Tower. His body long and lean, his midnight black hair gleaming in the morning light. A modern gladiator in a tailored suit surveying his domain.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he says, and it takes a minute for my mind to shift gears. He’s not looking out his window. He’s looking at me.

I turn, putting my back to the ocean so that I can see inside the bungalow. But he’s not there, and when I frown in consternation, his low chuckle ripples over me.

The security cameras.

Deliberately, I turn so that I’m facing the one mounted at the corner of the roof. I tilt my head and rest my hand on my hip. “Aren’t you supposed to be running an empire?”

“It’s on today’s agenda. Right now, I’m getting in the mood for some world domination.”

He stresses the last word, and I stare boldly into the camera. “In that case, Mr. Stark, I look forward to seeing you this evening.”