“Where have you been?” Hendrix asked from his seat in the living room. I was startled, having not expected him to be home. “I asked you a question and expect an answer.”

Wasn’t ready to see or deal with him either or the pompous attitude he carried at that moment.

His hand flexed, and a bright-colored pattern caught my eye. Butterflies in all colors decorated the small notebook he held tight in his grip.

My notebook.

Same one with all my emergency contact info.

It had been Mom’s idea. She thought if something happened to me, it was just small enough to fit in any of my bags.

“Where did you get that?” Rhetorical, and we both knew that. He’d gone through my overnight bag atop his bed.

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.” Hendrix stood then, his gait purposeful. Almost angry at something I wasn’t privy to. His feet carried him, then paused two steps from my own while his pointer finger raised my chin. Hazel on green, overcome by a hate-filled passion that choked the room. “Where the fuck were you?”

That tone grated me, and I bristled. “None of your business.”

Rough hands cupped my jaw; my notebook fell to the floor. “The hell it isn’t, Beau. We had an agreement. You would stay here—”

“And I did.” Had to stop him right there. He left me, not the other way around. “What exactly are you accusing me of?”

“Your packed bag on my bed is enough of a tell, don’t you think? Don’t lie to me,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his hold on my chin tightening. “Breaking the rules won’t work in my home.”

“Then maybe I should just leave like I wanted to and never did. Got better things to do than...” He silenced me with a quick and passionate kiss. This was angry with a hint of troubled emotions. As if one hand wanted to push me away while the other held on for dear life. A bite to my bottom lip signaled the end of his lips on mine; he breathed in deeply and let it out slow. “Did you or did you not leave my home for your apartment? Be honest with me.”

“No, I didn’t,” I whispered, my fingers releasing the grip they had on his shirt. Had no idea when I even grabbed on. “Have been here for three days wondering where you were.”

“Had something to take care of.” That’s it. That was his excuse. Unbelievable.

I plastered a fake smile on my face and stepped out of his embrace. “Okay, well, I just came in to grab some things I need before heading out. I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up.”

Was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. I’d be heading back to my apartment to get my head on straight. Game plan—strategize a way to keep my heart from fluttering in his presence, because it did.

Even as I stood there angry at him for accusing me of leaving—of playing the part of the wronged party—I wanted to drag him upstairs and submit to his every whim.

Hated him.

Wanted him.

It was driving me insane, and while the girls were right, how did you resist an asshole that charming? So sure of himself. Of what he wanted.

“Cancel whatever plans you have for tonight. Fuck, for the rest of the week. I need you here at all times.”

“Why?” Hendrix reached for me, tried to pull me in, but I took one step back for each one he advanced.

“The contract stated that you are to be present for any meeting, dinner, or formal gatherings I need. No arguments from you.”

A snort escaped. “Contract you signed.”

“Semantics, Beau.” Cat and mouse, he followed my every move as a predator would. Gave me just enough leeway to let me think that I’d get away when my back hit a wall. On my next breath, I found myself caught between a hard surface and his warm body. Caged me in with his hands on either side of my face. “We’ve been through this a time or two, Miss Carter. I paid for you to be here...took care of your financial troubles without batting an eye because I want you: here, there...every fucking where.” He skimmed his nose up the side of my neck and cheek, paused at my temple and laid a kiss there. “So behave, nymph. Play the game like a good little girl and go upstairs, change into something ravishing, and meet me down here at six sharp. We have an important dinner to get to.”

My lips parted, the question of where are we going on my tongue, but Hendrix shook his head and moved back a step. Then another, all the while his heavy-lidded eyes watched the way my chest rose and fell with each breath I took in.

For a few excruciating minutes, he just watched me struggle to regain control of my senses. Stood there until I made a move to follow him, then he walked off, leaving me standing in the middle of his living room horny as hell.

At five fifty on the dot, I was downstairs and waiting.

Hendrix was nowhere to be found, and for a minute I wondered if he’d left without me. Disappeared once more.

Walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, I looked out toward the water. Since my lunch with Zoe and Bethany, I’d been thinking about their advice. How to handle him and protect myself, and so far, I had come up with nothing.

Heaven help me.

Lost in thought, I didn’t hear him come into the room. Wasn’t aware of his proximity until he snaked an arm around my waist. Caught me off guard, and I jumped. “Shit!” I yelped, losing my balance, and falling back against his chest.

“Careful, nymph.” His hold tightened, nose tracing the shell of my ear. “Don’t want you to get hurt, although, I will tan that ass red if you continue to be a bad little girl.”

“W-What?” At my stuttering, he nipped my neck and stepped back. Turned me around so he could appraise me from head to toe.

I was wearing a beige strappy over-the-knee bandage dress with a pair of nude-colored pumps. My light brown hair was pin straight and my bangs swept to the side. Makeup was kept simple with a bit of contouring, winged liner, and red lips.

“You look good enough to eat.” That rough timbre in his voice caused goose bumps to arise over my arms.

Our eyes met, and I bit the corner of my lip. “You clean up well.”

Good would be an understatement—he was delicious in a tailored pinstripe suit and white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. No tie. His hair was in its usual disarray and that damn five o’clock shadow he’d perfected made my thighs clench.

“We should go.”

“Yeah...”

Hendrix offered me his arm, and I linked mine through his. Let him lead me down and into his car. Kept my hand on his lap throughout the silent ride.

Every once in a while, I’d catch him looking at me from the corner of my eye, but I kept my own looking straight. Or as best I could with him near.

Twenty minutes later we pulled into the valet parking of an Italian restaurant in Coral Gables. Again, he didn’t wait for the attendant to open my door; he came to my side and helped me out.

Held onto me with an arm around my waist while he tossed the keys to his Bugatti at the attendant. Glared at him in warning, but I had no idea if it was because of the car or the way the kid looked at me with hungry eyes.

“If that motherfucker doesn’t quit looking at my girl...” he muttered to himself, but I heard and was surprised he’d even give a crap. Was about to ask him what the hell he meant, when we were joined by another couple.

“Nice to see you, Hendrix.”

“Likewise, James.” They shook hands, albeit stiffly, and then with a hand on our backs they walked the other woman and me to a table reserved near a grand piano. No one mentioned how weird it was that we seated ourselves, most people inside the restaurant smiling our way.

Once seated, I turned toward who I assumed was James’s wife and smiled. “Hi, I’m Beau, this one’s girlfriend, which he seemed to forget and introduce.”

That caused her to throw her head back and laugh, before leaning my way as if to whisper a huge secret. “Mine forgets until we get home every time. Here just to look pretty…I’m Marsha, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

James scoffed, but you could see he was not pissed by her jibe. “Don’t listen to her, Beau. That is a lie. My wife is just impatient.”

“It’s a guy thing.”

“Completely agree!” Our dates both grumbled, but the earlier tension was now broken, and I could breathe easier. Made the night less stressful for me.

Suddenly, two waiters appeared with bottles of wine, bread, salad, and two appetizers that no one had ordered: a steaming shrimp dish and an antipasto of mix cured meats and cheeses.

The confusion on my face made James laugh. “I took the liberty of ordering for everyone tonight. We are having the chef’s tour and are to be surprised by his choices.”

“That sounds like fun actually,” Hendrix chimed in, which surprised the heck out of me. Since when was he a team player? He made the rules, not followed them.

While everyone served themselves, the men talked shop. To be honest, I zoned out for most of it and I wasn’t alone. I caught Marsha shaking her head a time or two while eating.

Words like zoning, permits, and commissioner meant nothing to me.

Regulations followed, and I then learned that James held a seat at city council. Things began to fit like a puzzle piece and the light bulb flickered on; he was trying to get James on his side for whatever structure he was in the planning stages for.

“So, what is it that you do, Beau?” Marsha’s question caught me off guard as I’d been listening to the men talk.

“Student at the moment.” Taking a sip of wine, I tried to find the right words to help her understand. Sometimes people didn’t grasp, or they failed to be sensitive toward children with different needs from the norm. “I’m studying to become a teacher, special education being my area of focus.”

“Really?” Her eyes brightened. The reaction was one I’d seen a time or two. “Our four-year-old son was diagnosed with Asperger’s last year. It’s been quite an adjustment, but once we had solid answers to our questions, we worked quickly to help him.”

“Good. The younger children with Autism are diagnosed, the better.” Our main dishes arrived, served family style. A seafood pasta dish in white clam sauce, house special lasagna, and a risotto scampi. The servers went ahead and served a little of each on our plates and refilled our glasses.

James cleared his throat then, his conversation with Hendrix forgotten. “Why do you say that?” he asked, waving his fork in the air before twirling pasta. “Just curious, because his doctor said the same thing, but he’s looking at him from a medical point of view while you see the educational. Help him with life skills.”

“You just answered your own question, James.” Hendrix placed his hand on my thigh and squeezed, but I ignored him. If he expected me to sugar coat or kiss ass when it came to this subject, he would be disappointed. Parents needed to hear the truth. “He sees him as a patient, while I see a kid who wants to thrive. Autism doesn’t define him. There is no such thing as a normal child. It’s our job as educators to work with the parents and help them figure out what works best for their little one individually. No two children are alike, and we treat it as such—the one thing that is focused on both in school and at home is structure.”

“That’s what his speech and behavioral therapist have both said.” Marsha placed her hand atop her husband’s. “We’re working toward a daily system to help him move from activity to activity without added stress.”

“And that’s a great start. They do so much better once a routine is set and enforced. Helps them know what to expect and feel comfortable. Sudden changes can be difficult to process, especially when young, but you help them adjust each time. Re-invent that schedule a million times if you have to, but I promise the payoff is so worth it.”

“You are going to be an incredible teacher.”

“Thank you, sir.” I blushed at James’s comment. “If you ever have any questions or need a second opinion and it is in my capacity to do so, I’ll be glad to help.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” His eyes moved toward my “boyfriend” with a smile. “And Hendrix?”

“Yeah?” There was a tiny, miniscule bite to his tone that I caught. No one else did as they continued to eat, but I was worried. Had I ruined this dinner?

James wiped his mouth and took a sip from his glass. “I’ll have the paperwork drawn up first thing in the morning. Shouldn’t be hard to pass at all...just leave it to me.”

“Thanks for the help.”

“Thank your girlfriend for being an intelligent and kind young woman.” Again, his hand on my thigh tightened while I sat there stunned. “Beau has a good head on her shoulders, from what I can tell, and is with you. That speaks volumes, and I’m an excellent judge of character.”

At that moment, I felt used. Had he known about their son?