Is there something you want to say?” I asked Martin after the hundredth time I’d caught him staring at me. And just like every time before, he quickly averted his gaze, pretending to adjust the thermostat or check his phone for a nonexistent message. That was the funniest of all, considering he never texted. I’d heard the guys on the phone making fun of him for it many times.

“Course not.” Martin cleared his throat and walked down the hallway toward his room, his other favorite way of avoiding me.

“Do I annoy you or something?” I called after him. I stood with my hand on my hip, waiting, as he peeked his head back out of the doorway.

“What are you talking about?”

“We’ve been stuck in this place for a week now, and you spend all of your time in that damn room. Do I bother you?”

“No, I just… I’m working.”

“At ten o’clock at night?” I cocked my head at him. Yeah right, buddy.

“I’m always working. Comes with the territory.” He disappeared again.

“Well, I’m bored out of my mind. Come play cards with me or something.” I walked down the hallway and banged on his door. He opened it.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He tried to close the door again, but I stopped it with my foot.

“Fine, let’s both do some work in here.” I attempted to barge in the room, pushing past him, but he didn’t move. His body didn’t give an inch, and I collided into him. Exactly what I had in mind, anyway.

Without the slightest effort, Martin picked me up and set me down again in the hallway. “Poker?” he asked.

“Strip?” I suggested, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face.

“Or we can retire to our separate rooms for the night.” He drove a hard bargain.

“Fine,” I drew the word out like a petulant five-year-old. “But we’re drinking!”

“Are you old enough?”

I spun around, ready to glare at him for the snide remark, but his face betrayed genuine concern. “I’m twenty-four, a college graduate, and have two jobs.” I stared him down, deadpan.

“Well, from the way your father talked in our meeting, I expected to see a little girl with pig tails and skinned-up knees.” He smiled for the first time since we’d met.

“I assure you, I’m not a little girl,” I said with my best ‘come hither’ husk. “But the pig tails and skinned knees can surely be arranged.” I winked, turned, and sauntered down the hallway, completely sure he was watching intently as I did.

With drinks poured — a white wine for me and a dark, imported beer for him — we settled at the dining room table. As I watched him shuffle the cards, expertly manipulating the deck like a pro, I bit my lip as seductively as possible and offered, “I really think this should be strip poker.”

“Not that it wouldn’t make my night, Ms. Genovese, but I made a promise to your father, and I intend to keep it.”

“I’ve seen you looking at me, Martin. And we’re both adults here.” I gulped my wine for courage.

“Adults with Morality Clauses.” He dealt the first of many hands of non-strip poker.

Sometime after midnight, after at least three refills for both of us, I started feeling the heat from the alcohol. “I’m so hot.” I loosened the top button of my silk tankini. His eyes bore into my already burning flesh, now exposed, and I watched him squirm in his seat. Reaching my hand across the table, I folded the cards he was still gripping with everything he had. “I won’t tell.”

Martin removed my hand with his other hand, and I realized that he was on fire worse than I was. The thought of that fire engulfing me caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. His voice sounded much deeper, vibrating the air between us as he chided me, “Please, don’t.”

I obeyed, not because of the order, but because of the pleading tone behind it. “I want you.” The excuse of alcohol emboldened me. “And I know you want me. It’s that simple. We don’t have to fight it.” I stood and leaned over the table, my face inches from his, and my now loosened shirt fell away to reveal ample, purposeful cleavage. I’d been wearing the same water bra for three days, hoping my chance to pounce would come.

“Ms. Genovese, please.” His desperation became more evident when his voice cracked. If I could just push a little harder.

“You’re a gorgeous giant mountain, and I want to climb you.” I took his hand, still clutching the cards, and pulled it to my left breast.

He let it linger, those stark, green eyes following. I watched them trace the curvature of my bra and the mound that spilled forth from it. “We can’t do this!” Martin jerked his hand away, and his eyes. “I can’t take much more of this, either. You know every inch of me wants you, but I just can’t.” Again, he adjusted himself in his chair. “So, why don’t we talk about something less… dangerous?”

I plopped down on my chair, dejected. “My graduation is next week. And I’m going.”

“Negative.” And just like that, he was back in control.

“I worked my ass off for this degree, and I’m going to my graduation ceremony like a normal person. My father doesn’t control me, and his life doesn’t define me. The sooner we all figure that out, the better.” I chugged the last bit of wine in my glass and stormed off, slamming the door to my bedroom for good measure.