‘Sometimes you don’t care,’ he drawled. ‘Actually, you certainly didn’t last night.’

‘Very funny. Now I’m going to have to change my bank account.’

‘Don’t bother. Max can find anything.’

‘Do you mind? I have a life of my own.’

He found the thought distasteful and that bothered him. Since when did he care about the particulars of any woman’s life? ‘Consider it forgotten,’ he smoothly said. ‘It was just on Max’s brief. I’ll toss it,’ he lied. ‘Are we good now?’

‘I suppose,’ she muttered. ‘It’s mostly your money in there anyway. I had three hundred dollars in my account before Max paid me.’

‘If we’re done arguing, I mentioned my house for a reason. I was wondering if you’d care to spend our play date there instead of here?’

‘Why?’

‘It’s nicer than a hotel.’

‘You hadn’t thought of that before?’

‘No.’

She smiled. ‘I’ll bet you did.’

‘You’d lose. I didn’t.’ He never took women to his house. Correction: women he screwed.

‘So something changed?’ A question only a woman would ask.

‘It must have.’ An answer only a man would give. A therapist might know what had changed and why but he didn’t. He just knew he didn’t want this to stop. ‘So, do you want to go? The house has great views.’

‘Better than these?’ She waved at the windows.

Not better than his view with that little bouncy wave that sent an eye-catching quiver across the swell of her breasts. He smiled. ‘Definitely.’

‘Wow! Better? I can’t believe it!’

‘Word of God.’ Her artlessness always amazed him. He had never met someone like her before.

She bit her bottom lip. ‘Are there going to be people around?’

‘No one you know. Don’t worry.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘I only have staff there. They’re loyal and discreet. Better?’

‘I suppose in a way it’s better. There are tons of people in the hotel who might see us.’

‘Only if we venture off this floor. But I’d prefer my house.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t stay in hotels much.’

‘Still, I don’t know. It seems well – too …’ She was going to say ‘personal’ but that was a joke after what they had shared last night. ‘A hotel might be better,’ she equivocated. ‘You know – like neutral ground.’ She couldn’t say she didn’t want to get to know him too well because he was Mr Gorgeous with a world-class dick who could be really, really nice. And she wasn’t made of stone.

Dominic was trying to figure out what the hell she meant. Not that he was going to ask her to bare her soul because he always avoided those kinds of conversations with women – actually with anyone. ‘I don’t know why we need neutral ground,’ he finally said, choosing his words as carefully as she had.

‘I didn’t mean that so much as … oh hell – I don’t know what I meant.’ She wrinkled her nose and looked like she was five.

God, she was cute and he’d never even considered the word part of his vocabulary before. Which just went to show how crazy she made him. On the other hand, he rarely denied himself anything and he wanted her at his house.

She looked up as the silence lengthened. ‘Are you mad at me?’

‘No. Thinking.’

‘I don’t like to be this – unstrung.’ She exhaled with a grimace. ‘I’m kinda freaking out here.’

‘Same here, but look, I don’t want to overanalyse this. I want you with me. I want you at my house.’

She wrinkled her nose in another little bunny twitch. ‘After last night I probably should just say thank you and not argue about where or when,’ she said in a very small voice. ‘Because – you made me feel … well – I never knew I could feel that way. Like I was going to die if I didn’t have—’

‘What you want. I know.’ He smiled. ‘I can give you that.’

‘That’s the good part,’ she said, with a twitch of a smile. ‘About those rules, though.’ She looked at him from under her lashes. ‘There are things I won’t do.’

‘Then we won’t do them,’ he said with painstaking calm, surprised at how much he wanted this, not sure what he’d do if she refused. ‘You’ll like my house.’ His tone was deliberately casual. ‘It’s a Victorian monstrosity, but as they say, charming. It even has a turret.’

‘A turret?’ Her eyes lit up with delight. ‘Why didn’t you say so?’

A lift of his brows. ‘Because?’

‘Every little girl wants a room in a turret.’

He smiled. ‘Interesting.’

‘You’re a man,’ she said, her smile full of sass now. ‘What would you know about turrets?’

‘Why don’t we have drinks up there, watch the ships go by.’

His voice was sweet temptation, his gaze brazenly provocative. She could feel the flush rising on her cheeks.

‘We could sleep up there if you like. I’ll have a bed brought up.’ Or whatever it takes.

A short silence.