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.

• • •

share platters of native Cornish oysters on the half shell

talking shop, analyzing the various offers I’ve received over the past two days, it doesn’t feel at all like work. It’s

our collaborating feels effortless. It’s nice. Relaxing, even. With a business partner

bringing her to 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 from the negotiation

conversation loosen my tongue until I’m rambling about my most unlikely dreams. “Someday we’ll be worldwide.” I smile, taking the last sip of my wine. “An Aspen property in every country—or

at me over her glass of prosecco. “Even

realize I misspoke, but I go with the flow and joke, “Sure,

penguin-watching tours,” she says with

her laugh, to laugh together with her. 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 behind us now . . . but still, I can’t deny it was a

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

both, right? If you find

“Maybe. Easier said than

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

How’s your family?” She rarely mentions her father—one of the many

well at school. He loves his classes, and . . .” She giggles. “He keeps talking about this guy. Every time we

chuckle. “Are

see.” Toying with her last bite of dessert, she asks way

does. “I don’t see how I could fit any more obligations into

I’m not looking for some big romantic love affair. For some reason, I’m reluctant to shut her down cold. Even though I really should, because there’s no way anything beyond sex can happen between

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

always ask the cards for solutions.” She