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She went past him, leaving behind the tantalizing scent of flowers and vanilla. He followed her, doing his best not to stare at her swinging ass. But in that dress, it was impossible. It embraced her curves like a second skin, and she had to be aware of it. He sure as hell was.

As she sat down at their table, he picked up the plates of lobster, carried them to the waiter and whispered, “We need to start over, please. Bring the menus…and an…uh…appletini? Is that a real thing?”

The waiter bowed. “Yes, sir, it is.”

“Great. Thank you.” Benjamin straightened his jacket and walked over to the table, his heart beating in tandem with each step he took toward her. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized that, this game they played with one another? It wasn’t in his control at all. And that was a sobering thought. He wasn’t a man who relinquished control easily. “Our menus are coming.”

She smiled at him, making those damn freckles of hers dance. “Excellent.”

He settled into his seat and tugged on his jacket sleeves uncomfortably. It was hot as Hades in here. He’d give a leg to take the thing off, but he couldn’t. She might not want a fancy first date, but he wasn’t about to remove his jacket in a five-star restaurant.

And for the first time ever, he had no idea what to say to a woman. All his normal topics would fall flat with Maggie, just as his earlier tactics had. She unsettled him.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that yet.

“By the way…” She eyed the credit card in the middle of the table. “You can take that back now.”

“You don’t want it, but hear me out.” He leaned in, and she did the same. The way she stared at him, all wide eyes and parted lips, tested his resolve to keep his hands to himself. “There truly will be a lot of events, and you’ll need clothes of some sort to wear—it doesn’t have to be designer, but you’ll need something. Do you have a whole closet of ball gowns?”

She hesitated before shaking her head. “No.”

“So take it. I don’t want you struggling to buy dresses for events you’re only attending because of me.” He shrugged, but he could see he was already winning the argument. “Use it for emergencies when you have nothing that will work.”

For a while, she didn’t move. “I’ll take it, but I’ll only buy what I absolutely need to.”

He nodded, taking the win.

It still baffled him that she’d refused money for her participation in the charade, and had actually been insulted at the mere suggestion. Maggie was an enigma he’d never unravel. She seemed too good to be real. In his life, when something presented as too good to be true—it usually wasn’t. “Good.”

“You said I’m the boss, but I don’t want to be. I want this to be an equal partnership.” She offered him a small smile. “Like a real relationship, basically.”

Again, he nodded. “Deal. What else?”

She tapped her finger to her chin. “Let’s see. We already covered the no kissing part…”

He held a hand up. “Until you ask me to, that is. Then that rule is out the damn window, where it belongs.”

“That’s not going happen, but I’ll accept your terms, if that makes you feel better.”

She’d lit up once they started talking rules. It was clear she liked setting up boundaries as much as he thought he’d enjoy crossing them. “I respect that, and I respect your clause about keeping things businesslike. Just like I appreciate your acceptance of my addendum.” He lifted his glass in a toast to her. “Was that professional enough for you?”

She blinked at him, taken aback by something. He wasn’t sure what, till he realized he was smiling again. When he was with her, it was a lot harder to hide the happy person he used to be, to keep the controlled, robotic appearance up at all times. Around her, he wanted to be himself, and…

It was a lot harder to act like his father.

He quickly erased the smile and cleared his throat, tugging on his tie again. She stared at his chest, swallowing hard. “Well? Are we good to go?”

“Yeah,” she said, shifting in her seat and nibbling on her lip. “We’re good.”

They stared at one another, the tension between them building.

He swallowed a gulp of wine, set it down, and leaned in again. She did the same. It would be so easy to close the distance between them and kiss her like they both wanted. But she wasn’t ready, and he was a patient man. Even so, he couldn’t resist saying, “Just for the record? I reserve the right to do my damnedest to change your mind about the no kissing thing, with every weapon in my arsenal, until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

Her nostrils flared, and she reared back, breathing heavily. She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Benjamin.”

“And trust me.” He settled into his chair and eyed her. “It’s just a matter of time. Once I set my mind on something, I always win.”

A nervous laugh escaped her. “Think what you want, but I never beg. And even if I did? I’ve already seen your moves, and they don’t work on me.”

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