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even briefly. Her brother, if he’d been here, would have gone after Jason with cocked fists and a loaded semiautomatic.
    Fabricating excuses had been far better for everyone.
    As she stepped off the glass elevator that gave her aerial views of the city stretching on forever, she crept into a foyer with a water feature cascading down a glass wall. His door stood to the left. Gripping her suitcase in her hand, she glanced at her phone. Three minutes until six. One hundred eighty seconds to decide how the hell she was going to leave in eighteen days with her sanity and her heart intact. Of course, she’d had nearly twenty-four hours to ruminate on that problem. She’d come up with absolutely nothing.
    Gia focused on his imposing black wood and wrought iron door, but couldn’t make her feet move. Her belly clamped. Her heart stuttered. She tried to convince herself that she could handle this, but the mental pep talk wasn’t working.
    To her shock, the door opened suddenly, and Jason stood there in jeans, a long-sleeved jersey knit top in midnight blue, bare feet, and that triumphant hint of a smile she wanted to slap off his face.
    “You’re on time. Very good.” He stepped back to admit her. As she entered with leaden legs, he glanced at her suitcase that had seen better days. “Is that all you brought?”
    Had he expected her to bring her whole closet? “You gave me the impression I wasn’t going to need many clothes.”
    “You won’t.” He shut the door behind her and took her bag. “I don’t have many ground rules while you’re here. Anything you see in the kitchen you want, take it. Don’t leave the building without consulting me. I’ve got a heated pool on the deck outside our bedroom. There’s a full gym downstairs. You’re welcome to use either as you’d like. No work while you’re here, especially on your brother’s case. We’ll discuss any family emergencies together as they arise. When we’re sceneing, you will call me Mr. Denning. Is anything I’ve said confusing?”
    “No.” She supposed that since she hadn’t seen or knelt for him in nearly a year, he no longer wanted her to call him Master. That was just fine. That slash of pain didn’t mean a damn thing.
    To avoid staring at him, she eyed his personal space. The expanse of a two-story wall of windows was unbroken by a drape or blind. Then again, why bother? Who could peek in on them this high up?
    “Nice shoes.” He glanced down at her dressiest T-strap black heels. “What three garments did you choose to wear with them?”
    His high-handed attitude made her feel like a piece of merchandise. Gia tried to keep a grip on her temper. Was he punishing her for the last year or was she seeing the real Jason Denning now that he had no reason to woo her?
    “Hello to you, too. My day was hectic. How about yours?”
    “It dragged by while I counted the hours until I could fuck you again.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. “I’m much happier now that my wait is over. And I don’t want to hear the attitude again. I’ve done nothing you haven’t agreed to, so don’t act as if I’ve insulted you.”
    Technically, he was right, and that rubbed Gia completely wrong. “Should I just drop all my clothes here, get to the floor, and spread my legs? Or will I make it up to the bedroom before you’re all over me?”
    Jason froze. “Do you need to reconsider your decision? The door is right behind you if you’d rather divorce now and forfeit the money.”
    So cold. Where was the firm but caring Dom she’d fallen for? If she was smart, she’d take him up on this reprieve and walk out the door. But she couldn’t afford to. Besides, it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. She’d hurt him, so now he meant to hurt her back. An eye for an eye.
    “No. I’m staying until the twenty-fourth.”
    For a silent moment, he let her feel the weight of his anger. “Then act like it or we’ll start talking about