Thorne punched him, fist connecting with his jaw, causing a sickening crack. The man fell back, hitting the polished wood floor hard enough to bounce. Before he could get back on his feet, two security guards arrived.

“How did you know to call them?” Dash asked.

Thorne scowled. “I know what that man is. I didn’t know if it would escalate like this, but I wasn’t taking any chances.”

Thorne winced as he flexed and shook his hand.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m fine. I’ll get some ice in a minute.”

“Sir, can you explain what happened here?” one of the security guards asked.

Thorne nodded. “This asshole was harassing my friend.”

“Is this true, sir?” the man asked Dash.

“Yes.”

“He’s a fucking whore,” the asshole yelled as he finally pulled himself up off the floor. “That’s all he is.”

“Get him out of here,” Thorne ordered.

The other guards began dragging the man out. He shook them off and straightened his suit. “I’m going,” he announced as if he had a choice. The guards followed him toward the door.

When Dash looked away from the asshole, he saw the museum director rushing toward Thorne. “Are you all right, Mr. Shipton?”

No one seemed to care that Thorne had punched the man, and neither the guards nor the director appeared to give any credence to what the asshole said. Thorne had power, and people did what he said. Dash had to admit it was a hell of a turn-on, that and the fact that Thorne had once again defended Dash. Maybe he truly did see Dash as more than an employee.

“Sir, are you okay?” the director asked.

Dash nodded. “I’m fine.”

“You weren’t injured? You’re certain?”

“No, he only threatened me. I’m truly fine.”

“This isn’t the first time he’s caused trouble here. I regret that I allowed him to return.”

“Apology accepted,” Thorne said, before Dash had a chance to respond.

“If you two are truly all right, I’ll do my best to minimize the interest in this incident and continue with our evening.”

Dash smiled at her. “By all means. The last thing I’d want to do is take away from the art. These paintings are exquisite.”

“Thank you, sir. We’re proud to have them.”

Thorne leaned closer to Dash as she walked away. “Would you like one?”

Dash was still trying to sort out what had just happened. “Would I… What?”

“Want a painting?”

The least expensive one Dash had seen cost several hundred thousand dollars. “You can’t buy me a painting.”

“I assure you I can.”

“No, I mean I won’t let you.”

“Then pick out one for my apartment.”

He’d still be buying it for Dash though, wouldn’t he? “Thorne?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Do it.”