"You are the only man I know who prefers a hard desk to a soft bed, Luhan."

Luhan didn’t stir. He didn’t raise his head or open his eyes. After racking his brain all night and failing to come up with a solution to his problem, he wasn’t ready to start the day, and he definitely wasn’t ready for an argument with his assistant, Lee Subin.

But even with his eyes shut, it didn’t take much effort to imagine Subin adjusting her turquoise rim glasses as she stood on the opposite side of his desk, her brown hair pulled back in a no–nonsense ponytail. After six years of working together, he knew what to expect. Four, three, two, one… .

"This is the second night in a row you’ve slept in your office," she said.

Subin sounded much older than twenty–eight, but everyone at The Black Pearl Group, an investment bank in the middle of Seoul, knew she was wise beyond her years.

"And it’s only Wednesday," she continued. "Do you plan to make it three nights in a row? Or go all the way for five?"

Luhan wouldn’t be able to put off today any longer. He opened his eyes, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stiff neck. "I happen to like my office."

On the top floor with a view of the city, his office contained almost everything he needed for an overnight stay — toiletries and extra clothing.

"The only thing missing is a pillow." He raised a brow. "Do you think you could pick one up for me when you drop off my dry cleaning?"

She placed her hands on her hips — accentuating the generous curves usually hidden by her trademark boxy suit jackets. "Your work ethic is admirable, Luhan, but you really need to get out of this office and get a life."

Two of his ex–girlfriends, Mei and Anna had said something similar last night. Right after each had turned down his marriage proposal claiming he wasn’t husband material. Luhan had chalked Mei’s rejection up to her high–maintenance tendencies, but Anna’s refusal two hours later had surprised him. She had always said she wanted a family.

"I have a life."

"You have a job. One you do very, very well." Subin stared at his cluttered desk. "But you spend more time at the office than anywhere else. Even when you’re away, your pager, cell phone and PDA keep you connected."

"You make me sound like a workaholic."

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, not answering.

Luhan valued and respected Subin’s opinion. She was a big reason for his success. She might be on the shy side when it came to social situations, but she had keen business insights. He didn’t know what he’d do if he ever lost her. "You really think I’m a workaholic?"

"When you aren’t working, you’re thinking or talking about work."

"My job is important to me." Growing up he’d worked to escape the confines of his small hometown in China. Unlike his brothers, he never felt as if he fit in at his family’s farm business. Luhan had always had dreams of striking it rich and finding success in a foreign country. Once he arrived in Seoul , fresh–faced with his MBA, he knew he’d found where he belonged and set to work. That wasn’t being a workaholic. That was persevering toward a goal. "It takes hard work to succeed."

"No one questions the amount of work you do or your success, Luhan."

He stared at his most recent a