Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

“You know . . . you’re inexperienced. With a woman who’s been around the block, it’s more okay to play a little fast and loose, because she knows what she likes and doesn’t like, and she won’t be afraid to call a time-out.”

“But I did tell you to stop,” she fires back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t that prove I’m capable of holding my own?”

I would laugh at her trademark resolve if I weren’t rapidly approaching exasperation. “I’m trying to apologize for not treating you better.”

“I know. And I appreciate that. I just need to know you see me as an equal. I don’t want you handling me with kid gloves. I agreed to this”—she waves a hand as she searches for a word—“arrangement of my own free will.”

“Even a casual partner still deserves to be treated right.”

She nods slowly, like she’s confused over my choice in words.

I tip my head toward the celling and draw a deep breath before meeting her eyes again. “So, would you like to go to dinner with me?”

She stares back at me for a moment before softening. “Yes. That sounds really nice.” Her expression turns the tiniest bit mischievous. “But it’s still not a date, right?”

I keep a poker face. “Right.”

“Just wanted to make sure. I’ll get dressed,” she says, then heads into the bathroom to get ready.

I should feel better having gotten that apology out of the way, but somehow I don’t. I only feel more confused.

• • •

we share platters of native Cornish oysters on the half shell and roasted vegetables and a variety

days, it doesn’t feel at all like work. It’s easy and fun, and highlights all the aspects of this job that get

and we tune so easily into each other’s wavelengths that our collaborating feels effortless. It’s nice. Relaxing, even. With a business partner like her, synergy isn’t just

meetings soon, I decide. I was a fool to ever think of restricting her to my bed—she’s too valuable an asset to be kept away

be worldwide.” I smile, taking the last sip of my wine. “An Aspen property in every country—or at least one

me over her glass of prosecco.

with the flow and joke, “Sure, why the

she

When was the last time I felt so good? Probably right before I found that fucking Genesis stuff in her bag. The worst of that is

me back down to earth. “On the other hand, I really need to start trimming back my hours. I shouldn’t miss all of Emilia and Lacey’s childhood.” That was meant to be

find good people

“Maybe. Easier said than done,

kids are so cute . . . I want to spend more time with them, and I’m not even their parent.” She gets a weird look on her face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to overstep my bounds or tell

What about you? How’s your family?” She rarely mentions her father—one of the many things we have in common—but she lights up beautifully when the

.” She giggles. “He keeps talking about this guy. Every time we talk, it’s Elijah said this, Elijah

“Are they

to ask him out, we just might see.” Toying with her last bite of dessert, she asks way too casually, “Speaking of relationships . . . do you think you’ll ever be looking for

don’t see how I

saying, No, I’m not looking for some big romantic love affair. For some reason, I’m reluctant to shut

sustainable. She’s so young and has so much ahead of her. I’m jaded and overworked, and am barely getting by with the two ladies who need more of my time than I have to give at the moment. It would be foolish of me to

always ask the cards for solutions.”