She knew he was there, a smile on her face. “Would you like your drink freshened up, Sir?”

When it was just them she’d taken to calling him that. It made him so f**king hot and hard he wanted to bend her over and f**k her right there. It was a gift, freely given. He didn’t require it. Didn’t need it. It wasn’t role-play. It was the way she submitted, in her own fashion. In a way she knew would get to him.

He slid onto the chaise next to hers. “I would. Thank you.”

She got up, padding over to the bar he was doubly glad he’d had installed the year before. She mixed him a fresh Blue Hawaiian. Normally he was prone to simple drinks like martinis. But here? Well with the breeze and the clean salt smell on the air he let himself enjoy drinks that captured that sprit. And she was good at making them too.

She handed him a drink and sat again. “This house is pretty spectacular.”

“I know. I bought it on a whim. An expensive whim. Four years ago. After the divorce and I wanted something far away from home.”

“The real estate agent was hot, wasn’t she?”

He laughed. “It was a he, as it happened.” She was the only woman he’d ever had here other than Carrie.

“Hm.”

He wanted to ask her to marry him. But it was too soon. He wanted to ask her to move into his house. But it was too soon. It had only been four months since he’d first met her, after all. He knew, without a doubt, that she was meant to be his. That this woman beside him was the one he’d spend the rest of his days with.

And he knew she felt the same, though she wasn’t as generous with her words as she was with her deeds. In the end, that she showed him how much she loved him, what a gift she thought he was, meant far more than a million words.

She would let him know when she was ready to move in. When she was ready to stop relying on her place as her little bolt hole. He was an exceedingly patient man and she knew he was waiting.

“I was thinking of taking you to dinner tonight.”

“You were?”

“Yes. You know how much I like to show you off.”

And he did. Shamelessly so. She was so beautiful and vivid. And all his.

“There’s a place. Just up the road. Right on the water. A dance floor. I want to dance with you with the breeze in your hair and my hands on your bare skin. I brought a dress I think will be perfect.”

“I bet you did.” She smiled, her eyes closed behind her sunglasses.

He liked to buy her things. He liked to see the dresses and other clothing he chose on her skin. Liked to know she allowed him to spoil her. It wasn’t overly exorbitant. He knew she had limits and he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.

But he liked her in sexy clothing and she wore it all so well.

“Perhaps some shoes too.”

She laughed then, reaching out to tangle her fingers with his.

“I’m a kept woman, Sir. My goodness.”

He liked the fantasy of keeping her at home just for him. Waiting for him to get home, naked and willing. But the reality was nice too. Independent and creative. Bawdy and totally capable of pushing him back when he crossed lines. He’d never imagined finding that attractive. But oh, how he did.

Being at his side was her choice. One she made freely. Which made it all the sweeter.

She turned her head, pulling her glasses down her nose. “You’re trouble. You know that?”

“I hope so.”

“Dinner it is. But remember, you promised to try Hawaii my way too. I know just the place to have lunch tomorrow.”

“Anything for you.”

When he stepped from the shower he saw her note.

I’ll meet you at the restaurant—R

Well now.

He got dressed and headed out. She’d worn the dress he’d laid out for her, and the shoes. Things were looking up.

She must have taken a cab because his car was in the garage. Once there he headed inside, looking around. It was then he saw her at the bar.

Stunning. Her hair was a tousle around her face, held back with a flower to one side. The side that said she was taken. Her lips were glossy and red, eyes dramatic, lined to accent how big and sexy they were.

He walked around to catch sight of her from behind. Her entire back was exposed. The dress had a halter neck and dipped to the small of her back. She had her legs crossed, slowly kicking the delicate strapped high heel back and forth.

He wasn’t the only one staring.

He slid onto the seat next to hers. She gave a slow, sensual look his way. “Hello.”

“Hello.”

“You should buy me a drink.”

“Should I?”

“You should. Or he might.” She tipped her chin toward one of the men who’d been staring at her.

“Can’t have that.” He got the server’s attention. “Another for her and the same for me.”

She held a hand out. “I’m Raven.”

Oh. A game. Well.

He took her hand. “Jonah.”

Their drinks arrived and he clinked his against hers. “You should have dinner with me.”

“Should I?”

“You should.” He tipped his chin at a woman on the other side of the bar. “Or she might.”

Raven leaned in close enough for him to catch the scent of her skin. “I think she’s more my type than yours.”

Christ. She was going to kill him.

She put a hand on his knee. “I’d love to have dinner with you, Jonah.”