Olive slapped the guy. My eyes are so wide that they are practically popping out of my head as I stare at her. I can’t believe that she is the same woman who wouldn’t even tell me to slow down when I was driving at reckless speeds. This woman has two very different sides to her personality. I just can’t figure out which one is the real her.

She hasn’t even slapped me yet, and she hates me. So, whatever this guy did must have been really bad. Or she thought that it would impress me since she couldn’t get the guy to buy her a drink.

Olive stares at me as she walks back to our table.

“What was that?” I ask.

“Can we go?” Olive asks.

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that a question or statement?”

She sighs. “I don’t have time for your tests or training or whatever this is right now. I want to go. Now.”

I nod and get up from the booth, but she doesn’t immediately storm out. Instead, she freezes. I put my hand on the small of her back because, honestly, it looks like she needs me to guide her out of the restaurant and keep her standing.

When we finally get to the front of the restaurant, the hostess goes and gets my coat. I take it from her and help Olive into it. She puts it on, but it’s almost like she’s a zombie. Her eyes are blank, and she’s just going through the motions. She’s not really here with me.

I guide her outside where the valet, thankfully, already has my car waiting. The valet opens the door, and I help her into the car before going around to the driver’s side. But I don’t immediately start driving off. I need answers. Now.

“What happened back there?” I ask.

“Did you see what happened with the guy at the bar?” Olive asks.

I nod.

Of course I watched her at the bar. I’d set up this test for her, hoping that seeing her hit on another man would make me stop wanting to fuck her. But it backfired on me. Seeing her attempt to pick up another man drove me even wilder with need. My whole body grew furious at the sight of her anywhere near another man. Because I want her for myself. I don’t want to share.

“Well, the guy sucking face with the blonde was Owen, my boyfriend.”

My eyes widen. The boyfriend was real. I truly thought it was something she’d made up.

“Well, ex-boyfriend now anyway.” She looks up at me, cocking her head to one side as she studies me. “I guess you aren’t going to tell me that you’re sorry.”

“Would it help?”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“Then, why would I waste words by saying something that’d never make you feel any better?”

She nods in agreement. “I guess I didn’t pass your test since I didn’t get a guy to buy me a drink.”

“I would say you passed the first lesson with flying colors.”

She raises an eyebrow at me.

“You slapped a guy in the nicest restaurant in all of Chicago. I would say you showed that you have more than enough balls to be a leader. Now, you just have to learn to be that person on a regular basis.”

She laughs. “So…your place or mine?” she asks.

I choke on nothing. Did she just say that?

Of all the ways I saw tonight ending, this wasn’t it. Sure, I hoped in my own twisted way, but I didn’t think it would actually happen.

She bites her lip, trying to keep her grin at bay. She’s not blushing or showing any signs that she’s embarrassed by what she said. She meant every damn word.

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you? He won’t take you back after this, if that’s a concern of yours. I’m not sure you’re ready for the severe consequences of saying yes,” I say, reminding her of the boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend.

“I’m not taking him back after this. And why are you asking me if I’m sure anyway? I thought you would say something about how managers always make a decision, and once that decision is made, they don’t go back on that decision. Managers just deal with the consequences, so be sure of your decision before saying anything.”

I smirk. “That does sound like me. But that was a lesson I was saving for later.”

She takes a deep breath and then exhales slowly while she thinks for a moment and then another.

She’s going to say no. She’s going to come to her senses and realize that fucking me is not going to solve any of her problems. It’s just going to create new ones. New problems that involve a complicated relationship where she fucked her boss and would have to come into the office tomorrow and every day after, wondering if the reason she got promoted, was getting special attention, was yelled at, or fired was because she’d fucked me.

And, as much as I know that the sensible thing to do is for her to say no, I’m begging her to say yes. Not to mention, my own experience. I know better than to fuck an employee. Jamie might have been the worst mistake of my life. I ended up losing the only woman I ever cared about.

“Your place or mine?” Olive asks again, more slowly this time.

I grin. “Mine.”

* * *

“Holy crap!” Olive says when I open the door to my condo.

I smirk as I hold the door open for her. “Are you going to go inside?” I ask.

Olive tears her eyes away from my condo and looks up at me. “Please tell me this isn’t your condo. Tell me that you have some rich friend you’re staying with or that this is your parents’ place.”

I chuckle and rub the back of my neck, feeling weird for the first time ever about how nice of a place I have. I’ve never cared what a woman thought, and I for sure have never felt ashamed to have a place this nice, but the way that Olive is looking at me right now makes me feel like maybe I should be ashamed.

“It’s not mine.”

“Thank God,” Olive says, exhaling.

She finally steps inside my condo while I walk in behind her, enjoying the view as I stare at her tight ass in the tight black skirt she’s wearing.

“Technically, it’s not mine.”

Olive flips her head around and looks at me. “What?”

I smile, loving throwing her off her game. “Technically, it’s not mine because I’m just leasing it for the year. I’ll decide after that if I want to buy the property or not.”

Olive’s mouth drops open, and then she slowly looks around my condo—up at the ceiling that’s two stories tall and around the large room that contains everything, except my bedroom and bathroom. Her eyes go over the kitchen that is full of stainless steel and granite, then across the dark hardwood floor to my living room where all the furniture is pointed at the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the city, and then over to the dining room that can easily seat twelve beneath a large chandelier.

“Where’s your TV?” she asks.

I walk up behind her and inch as close as I dare without touching her. Close enough that I can smell her and feel every emotion oozing off her body. Nervousness. Anger. Excitement. Need for sex.

“Why would I need a TV for entertainment when I can have this?” I reach out my hand and gently caress her neck, turning her toward me before I press my lips against hers.

Her whole body shivers at my touch, which only makes me want to kiss her more. Deeper. So, I do, and when I finally pull away, all I see are her gorgeous, big eyes staring at me.

I smile weakly. I know she’s not ready to throw her whole life away, which is what she would be doing if she fucked me. I’m not boyfriend material, and Olive is the kind of girl who needs a boyfriend. She’s not ready. Not yet. Not without some liquid courage at least, and even that I’m sure won’t be strong enough to convince her that she wants me to fuck her tonight.

I know women like her. They want commitment, a relationship. They want to be wined and dined first before they fuck. It’s best I stay clear of women like Olive because I would destroy them.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask as I start heading for the bar my kitchen.

Olive doesn’t say anything. She just follows me as her eyes continue to look around my condo. When I get to the bar, I pull out a bottle of wine similar to the one that she drank at dinner. I uncork the bottle and then pour us each a glass since I doubt she’s going to tell me her drinking preference when she can barely speak at the moment. I slide the glass over to her where she’s leaning against the counter, still staring up at the ceiling that feels small to me compared to my place in Las Vegas, although it’s comparable to my place in New York.

“What do you do to make all this money?” are the words she finally says when she opens her mouth. Not, How dare you kiss me, or something along those lines. She just continues her thoughts, as if the kiss never happened.

I narrow my eyes as I take a sip of my wine, trying to understand this woman. I slowly set the glass back down. “You’re not ready to know what I do yet.”

She pouts. “What’s that supposed to mean? How could I not be ready to find out what another person does for a living?” She pauses a second and then says, “Unless it’s because you do something illegal. Are you in the mob? Do you kill people for a living?” Olive says, taking a step back.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Her eyes widen, and her soft pink lips fall apart. “You expect me to fuck you without even knowing what you do for a living?”

I sigh. “I don’t think you’re really going to let me fuck you.”

“Then, why am I here?”

I lean forward, inching closer to her, while trying to convince myself to stay back. That this isn’t actually happening and to not get too excited. “Because you’re scared. Scared because the only guy you ever loved cheated on you, broke your heart, and you’re trying to find some answers to make yourself feel better. You think sex with me is that answer, but you’ll never really go through with it—at least, not until you drink a bottle or two of wine first. But, if you do that, I’m not going to fuck you anyway. I don’t have sex with women who are that out of it.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you’re wrong because the only thing I’m certain about tonight is that you’re going to fuck me,” she says. She glances down at her wine. “And I’m sorry you’re wasting your expensive wine on me because I don’t want any of it. I want you to fuck me, make me forget about my ass of a boyfriend, whom I spent an entire year with.”

I grin.

“What?” she asks slowly as she looks at me.

“I told you what would happen if you said sorry in front of me. I told you that you’d be punished. And I’m a man of my word.”