The designer suit, the watch on his wrist, the fade haircut that probably cost more than my monthly rent—all of it screamed money. Though the more obvious tells of power were the set of his shoulders and the heavy presence surrounding him like a shield. It was hot and uncomfortable to the touch as if I was standing close to the thick heat of a fire. “Honestly,” I sighed with tightly leashed exasperation, “do I look like a stripper?” The man didn’t even glance at me. “I couldn’t care less what you look like.” He sounded distracted and annoyed. “Leave.” I had no doubt when he said that single word women fled. His command burned in my stomach with the itch to submit. I hated it. I'd grown a thick skin in my twenty-two years having to fend for myself a majority of that time. The best thing my mother ever did for me was put her boyfriend of the month—who she always swore was “the one”—before everything else, including me. Her neglect taught me to protect myself from men at a very young age. It also showed me most of the male species sucked. And the fact this one threatened to crumble my confidence like the Berlin Wall with just a few words ... well, that really annoyed me. I took a step into the room, my eyes taking everything in, and nonchalantly asked, “Did your maid forget to put a chocolate on your pillow last night? Is that why you’re acting like such a prick?” His gaze finally came to me. Deep, dark, and hostile. Clearly, he’d never been called such a name in his life. I relished the opportunity to be the first. He slid a stare down my body, criticizing my attire with a single touch of his eyes. He didn’t have to say a word to announce he found me lacking in every way. Thankfully, I had a more-than-healthy amount of self-esteem. “T can’t figure out if you’re a desperate attempt on the club’s part to interest me, or if you’re a lost orphan off the street who never got spanked as a child.” The quick wit was so surprising, a laugh escaped me. “Let me guess, you want to spank me?” “No. Go away.” “Yeah, about that . . .” I ran my hand across the back of a soft, velvet chair. “We’re kind of stuck together for the time being.”