When I tell Keira my plans for the evening have changed because I have business to attend to and send her home with V, I’m only partially lying.

Confusion lines her features, but it doesn’t matter. I have to get away from her. J’s words still echo through my head, and I know that what happened tonight shifted things even further in the opposite direction from where they should be going.

Compartmentalization? Fuck, I’ll be lucky if I can ever look at any desk without getting an instant hard-on from picturing Keira bent over it.

Despite the lie I told her, too much truth was spoken in her office tonight. She loves what I give her and is on the verge of admitting it, even though she doesn’t have to. I see it in her every reaction. Her body responds to me like nothing I’ve ever seen. She was made for me—I knew it the night of the masquerade. That’s why I had to have her again, only to be denied for too long.

Work. That’s what I need.

Even though the casino isn’t nearly as busy as it will be later tonight, I walk the floor, stopping to watch dealers flip cards across the green felt of table after table, and observe the spinning roulette wheel as the ball clatters across the black, red, and green numbers. At the craps table, a call girl blows on the dice for a player before he throws them, and groans when he loses everything.

I shake a few people’s hands and watch their mouths moving, but don’t hear their words. I’m too distracted. The lights and sounds of the casino used to fascinate me, but they’re not enough to keep my mind off her.

In less than ten minutes, I could be in my bedroom, preferably with Keira pinned beneath me, her red hair spread across my pillow again. Except this time, her green eyes would be snapping at me in rebellion until I buried myself inside her. Then they’d go soft, wanting, needing, begging for what only I can give her.

As my dick jerks at the vision, I shove the thought away. Because that’s not what I’m going to do. I’m getting out of here.

I duck into the security control room, remind them to keep an eye on a few specific guests, and leave through a sliding panel in the wall.

I take the long way around, headed for a garage on the north side of my complex. Tonight, I need a drive to clear my head, and nothing does a better job of that than my Chevelle.

As I navigate the maze of secret hallways to get there, I spot a familiar figure heading toward his own rooms.

“G?”

The old man’s head comes up and he pauses. “Sir? Do you require my services?”

“No. How did it go tonight?”

“I was able to finish steaming almost everything, but Ms. Kilgore returned sooner than anticipated, so I still have to finish the job. It’ll be done tomorrow, however.” He pauses before adding, “She seemed quite shocked when she saw the closet. Even more than shocked. Upset, really.”

G is one of the very few people I trust, so I ask, “How upset?”

“Very. It seems like a warning might have been in order.”

Most women, at least in my experience, would be thrilled to receive an expensive designer wardrobe like I had G put together for Keira. It shouldn’t surprise me at all that her response would be the exact opposite.

“I’ll deal with her.”

G nods again and his lips press together, disappearing beneath his gray mustache.

“What? I can tell you want to say something else.”

He takes his time, as though considering his words carefully. “She seems different from the others, sir. All of this seems different.”

It’s almost an exact recitation of what J said earlier.

I open my mouth to tell G that she’s not different, it’s just the circumstances. The debt. That’s the only reason I’m doing this. But he’s one of the few people who can tell when I’m lying. So instead, I go with the truth.

“She is. All of it is. And I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

I don’t admit weakness. I always exude absolute control. You don’t retain power like I have without it. But G is different. His loyalty is unquestioned.

“Then might I share a suggestion, sir?”

“Go ahead.”

“She seems like the type of woman that needs to be handled with more care.”

“I haven’t hurt her.” My tone takes on a sharp edge.

G shakes his head. “No, no, I would never imply that. What I mean is . . . you know she’s different. That means you have to treat her differently.”

I jam my hands into my hair. “I am. That’s the whole fucking problem.”

“Respectfully, sir, you’re missing my point.”

“Then just say it, old man. Lay it out, because it’s obvious I’m not picking up on the subtleties here.”

“Have you ever had to woo a woman?”

I look at him like he’s just asked me for a dime bag. “Woo?”

“Yes. Entice. Seduce, but not sexually—emotionally. Court her. Show her that she is different by giving her something she needs or wants.”

I mull over his words as he continues to speak.

“If you think about it, coming from the outside into your world would be a very difficult transition, especially under these circumstances. The position you hold is not one that many can, and it carries great responsibilities and risk. Maybe you should show her that there are also advantages to your position. Persuade her that making this transition is not without reward.”

I know what G is saying. At least, I think I do.

I’ve stripped all of Keira’s control away, and she’s fought me at every turn. Her fire is what drew me to her, but if I keep pushing, there’s a chance I could snuff it out. And that’s not what I want at all.

What the fuck do I want? G won’t be able to answer that question, so there’s no use making him stand here waiting in the hallway.

“Thank you. I appreciate your candor.”

“Of course, sir. I am always at your service,” G says, and continues down the hall.

His words have me thinking as much as J’s did earlier, but their advice pushes me in opposite directions.

I head toward my garage, more intent than ever on getting the hell out of here so I can try to sort my head out somewhere that doesn’t remind me of Keira Kilgore.