He grinned. “A limited choice, baby. Your fashion sense is appalling.”

“I believe I’ve said this before. I don’t care. Either one.”

“These then.” He swung a pair of black suede, ankle-strap shoes with gold studs down the chunky heels. “Unless you’d rather not wear heels.”

“Those are fucking high.”

“Depends how much you drink.”

She lifted her brows.

“Something less elevated then.” He dropped the ankle-strap shoes, knelt at her feet, and slipped on a pair of black glittery ballet flats. “These are safer. As I recall in Amsterdam, you weren’t too steady in spike heels.” Smoothly coming to his feet, he took her hands and pulled her up.

She looked up and grinned. “Maybe I was just hitting on you.”

“Lucky me.” He pulled some earrings out of his pocket—small gold hoops with single emerald teardrops. He’d told his jeweler to keep it simple.

“I probably was hitting on you,” she conceded. “Subconsciously at least.”

“While I was fully conscious of wanting to nail you on the spot.” He slipped on one earring, since he hadn’t gotten any grief.

“That would have raised a few eyebrows.”

“I doubt it. I pay their salaries.” He slipped on the other earring.

“Whoa… two things. First—not an image I want in my head. And second—don’t do that I’m-master-of-the-universe crap. It pisses me off.”

“Naturally, I apologize.”

She gave him a squinty-eyed look. “As if.”

He shook his head. “Haven’t you noticed yet, babe? My recent freak-out aside, I pretty much do whatever you want. You’re calling the shots. I’m just here to serve and assist.” He held out his hand. “We really have to go. I’ll introduce you to the part of my family I care about. You okay with your hair—need a brush?”

“You tell me.”

“Nah—that FF look is hot.”

“FF?”

He smiled. “Freshly fucked.”

“And you’re saying it’s okay in public?”

“We call it messy curls or artful disarray in public. You’re good. Let me get you a jacket. It’s trying to rain again tonight.”

She clamped her mouth shut when he walked out of his closet with a flower print, short, swingy, silk raincoat, the background green, multicolored flowers in every color of the rainbow lighting up the fabric—the kind of making-a-statement raincoat you saw only on Paris runways.

“Arms out, babe. Ah… perfect. Now that’s a good fit,” he said calmly, as if none of the other clothes had fit. “Jeez, have you shrunk?” He sliced the air above her head, then drew the edge of his hand to his chest. “Must be the shoes.” He grinned. “Stay close. I’m going to have to keep you from being trampled tonight.”

It was impossible to be angry with him. Why was she even putting up a fight? All too soon, she’d be missing him. So smell the roses while you can.

“Do you like the coat?”

He was smiling at her. “It’s perfect. Thanks.”

“Melanie’s going to love you, baby. Come on.” He grabbed her hand. “I can hardly wait to show you off.”

She put up her hand. “I’m not your newest toy. You know that—right?”

“Jesus, I don’t want you to be.” His voice dropped low. “I just want you to be mine.”

Something in his voice at the end made her nervous. “No scenes, okay?”

Mild puzzlement. “As in?”

“As in you getting hot about the men I talked to in Hong Kong.”

“Then don’t talk to other men.” A blunt, uncompromising command.

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding.”

Seeing the flush flood her cheeks, he quickly rectified his error. “I was out of line. Sorry.” He blew out a small breath. “I’m just so fucking jealous. I wish I weren’t. But”—he smiled faintly—“since I’m a control freak, I should be able to exercise a little self-control. So no scenes. I promise.”

Sometimes she caught a glimpse of the boy inside the mighty, overachieving, hard-ass global magnate. “Thanks,” Kate said. “I appreciate your understanding. And I’d rather be with you than anyone else, so there. We’re both on the same page.”

The warmth in his eyes brought a lump to her throat.

He dipped his head and lightly touched her lips. “It feels as though all the stars are aligned tonight,” he whispered against her mouth. “The first time ever for me.” He raised his head and smiled. “Crazy—hey?”

“Everything we do is crazy.” Aware of the shift in his tone, she was careful to keep her voice light. “Why stop now?”

They left Dominic’s home and walked outside to the sidewalk, where he pulled her to a stop. “Just a minute,” he murmured.

A second later, Leo, Danny, and two other men came out of the shadows of the adjacent yard—the houses separated only by their driveways.

Kate glanced up at Dominic. “They stay next door?”

“I like my privacy.”

“Is security really necessary?”

“It’s just a precaution.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just what I said. Evening, guys. How’s everyone?”