“Hmmm.” I’m still trying to get it out of him when he grabs me from behind and spins me around, catching me in the circle of his arms. “Is this the surprise?” I murmur. “Because I like this very much.”

“Kissing you shouldn’t be a surprise,” he says. “It should be an everyday occurrence.”

As if to prove it, he presses me against the wall, cages me in his arms, and kisses me so thoroughly my legs barely manage to keep me upright.

“No, the surprise has more to do with something you saw at the club. Something that intrigued you.”

“Oh.” My body fires simply from the mention of the club, but the truth is that I still haven’t got a clue. Because, frankly, the whole damn place intrigued me. “So are we going back tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I think one day away is a good policy. We’ll see if there’s any incidents tonight or tomorrow. If not, that only helps establish the connection to the club.”

“I get that,” I say. “But you said—”

He cuts me off with a chuckle. “I never said we were going to the club. Doesn’t mean the club can’t come to you.”

Now I’m more confused than ever, but I decide to just give up and let him lead.

“So you trust me,” he says, and I nod. Because I do. I trust this man with all of me. My heart. My body. Hell, I’d even trust him with my life.

“Good,” he says, then looks me up and down. When his eyes meet mine again, I see the change in him. As if he’s taking on a persona and is gathering power around him. There’s command in his posture and control in his eyes, and just looking at him makes me weak with desire and wet with longing.

“Take off your clothes, Natasha.”

We’re still in the entrance hall, but I don’t even hesitate. I step out of my shoes, then strip off my blouse and bra, then my slacks and underwear. Then I stand naked in front of him, not shy this time, but aroused and curious, my entire body humming with anticipation.

“Oh, baby,” he says, his eyes dipping to my nipples, already painfully tight from my arousal. “You want me. More than that, you want whatever I have planned for you.”

“Yes,” I say.

“Even without knowing what it is.”

“Yes.”

He steps in front of me, then takes my hand and presses it over his erection, straining against his jeans. “Do you have any idea how hard that makes me?”

I meet his eyes, then glance down to my hand. “I do now.”

He chuckles, then leads me to the far side of the living room where there is a sliding glass door that looks out over my lush, plant-filled backyard.