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already holds. Because he’s right. He doesn’t ask people. He’s never asked me anything.
    Even when we met, he didn’t ask me for a date. He told me I was going out with him. Just like he told me when our dates became something more. When he told me he’d booked a second hotel room across the city for us. Just us.
    I never said no. It never crossed my mind to.
    “Your wish is my command,” I mutter under my breath, grabbing hair pins instead. He quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, finally leaving me in peace. Once my hair is pinned to the side—per my client’s request—I slip on my tan heels and grab my purse.
    Aaron’s waiting for me in the main room, looking out over the strip like I was not so long ago. I pause here at the door and let my eyes run over him shamelessly. He’s gorgeous—truly gorgeous. He wears his suits in a way that’s effortlessly sexy, and I haven’t seen him in an outfit yet that hasn’t been tailored perfectly to fit his body.
    Granted, I’ve only seen three outfits, but I’d imagine the others are the same.
    “Are you done?” His eyes find mine, and the sparkle in them tells me he caught me ogling him.
    “Yep.” I move toward the door.
    “Wait.” His long stride swallows the room as he walks to me. “Give me your hand.”
    I hold my hand out and he pulls a glittering tennis bracelet from a box I didn’t know he was holding. I open my mouth when he attaches it around my wrist, but he speaks before any shocked words can leave me.
    “Don’t.” He meets my gaze. “I can’t say I’m giving this out of the goodness of my heart.”
    “So why are you?”
    He rubs his thumb along the underside of my wrist, alongside the bracelet. “It makes a statement. It tells everyone you belong to me.”
    “I’m pretty sure the money deposited in my account at noon does that.”
    “And you and I are the only people who know of that. The guys downstairs don’t, but they know this.” He taps it and drops my hand. “Which means you’re safe from any unwanted advances.”
    “I wouldn’t say I’m safe, exactly.”
    “Trust me, Day.” He brushes the backs of his fingers along my jaw, his eyes tracing their path, and drops his voice. “When I come on to you, it’ll be because you want it. Very much.”
    He opens the door and leads me to the elevator. Once inside, he punches the button and wraps an arm around my waist. Heat radiates from him into my side, and I clutch my purse tighter to distract myself from the way his fingers are flexing at my waist.
    “Try not to sass me too much tonight.”
    “I’m not promising anything.”

 
    Aaron eyes me over the top of his cards, and I bring my glass to my lips. We’ve been at this table for an hour, but this is the first game I’ve played. If my daddy taught me anything, it’s that you don’t play poker ‘til you know a guy’s tells.
    And I know Mr. Stone is bluffing.
    He studies me for a long moment before resting his elbows on the table and placing his cards facedown on it. “You’re bluffing.”
    “Try me.” I lick my lips. “Unless you’re scared.”
    The guys around the table watch us with amusement, and my fighting talk gets an ‘oooh’ out of someone.
    “Scared? Not of you, Bambi.”
    I ignore the old pet name and tilt my head. “Show your hand.”
    Slowly, he flips the cards and spreads them across the table in front of us. “Full house.”
    “Ooooh,” comes from the guys who all folded.
    I shrug a shoulder and sigh. “Dammit.”
    Aaron smirks.
    “You should have listened.” I lay my cards out. “Four of a kind. Read ‘em and weep, handsome.”
    The smirk drops from his face when his eyes crawl over my cards. “Fuck.”
    “Hard luck, buddy.” One of the guys—I’ve never been good with names—pats his shoulder as they file out of the room.
    I grin at Aaron across the table.
    “I can’t believe you just beat me at poker.”
    I pick up my glass again and empty it, keeping my eyes on