He chuckled, then kept his foot on the accelerator as we breezed past the condo. I bit back a curse, not quite believing that he was calling my bluff. Then he glanced sideways, met my eyes, and hit the brakes.

“Evan!”

“Forget Canada,” he said, twisting the wheel into a sharp left turn and then speeding back toward the building. There was heat in his eyes as he pulled up to the valet stand. “I want you naked.”

“Oh.”

As the valet opened the car door for me, Evan popped the trunk and pulled out a leather briefcase. He tossed the keys to the valet, then took my elbow and led me inside. I knew the building intimately—I lived there, after all—but right then everything seemed bright and shiny and new. The doorman more regal, the concierge more friendly. The polished stone walls glowed, and the steel doors of the elevator gleamed in invitation. I was looking at the world differently now, anticipating something wonderful. Anticipating Evan.

There was no one else in the elevator bank, and we had the car to ourselves. As soon as we stepped on, he moved closer to me, pressing his palms against the wooden paneling as he caged me with his body. “Do you remember the alley?”

It was only the controlled sensuality of his voice that kept me from laughing. Did I remember it? How could I forget?

But I said none of that. I only nodded.

“Do you remember what I said I wanted to do to you?”

Suddenly shy, I didn’t quite meet his eyes. But I nodded. Every single word was burned into my memory.

“Tell me.”

My stomach twisted with nerves, but the rest of me tingled simply from the promise of what was to come. “What?”

He leaned forward, and I felt his lips brush against my ear as he spoke, the contact sending shivers rushing through me to pool between my legs. “Tell me what I said to you. Tell me what I want to do.”

“I—” I wanted to protest, but one look at his face nixed that plan. I looked quickly away. When I spoke, my voice was so low I wasn’t certain he could even hear me. “You said you wanted to strip me bare. That you wanted my breasts in your hands and my nipples tight between your fingers.” As if in response to my words, my nipples tightened and my breasts felt suddenly needy.

He reached up and loosened the clip that held my hair. It tumbled to my shoulders and he ran his fingers through it, lifting it, then leaning even closer to graze his lips over my bare neck. I shuddered, certain I was going to come undone right at that very moment.

“I’m impressed,” he murmured. “What else?”

“You—you said you wanted to spank me. To tie me up.” My breath was ragged and I gathered my courage, then pulled away enough that I could see his eyes reflecting back every bit of heat that was coursing through me. “You said you wanted to make me come.”

His eyes seemed to go even darker with my words, but his face remained unchanged, as if any reaction would trigger an explosion. For a moment, we only stared at each other, the air between us vibrating, my entire existence hinging on the need for his touch.

His voice was raw when he finally spoke. “I did say all that. And I want a hell of a lot more that I didn’t say.” He traced a fingertip along my jawline. “You said you wanted it, too.” He paused, the moment hanging heavy between us. “Is it still what you want?”

I nodded as the elevator car shuddered to a stop.

“Say it.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but it was too dry. I swallowed and tried again. “Yes,” I said as the doors slid open. “Oh, god, yes.”

He took my hand and led me off the elevator, but paused before opening the door to the condo. For a moment, he just looked at me. So long, in fact, that I began to feel uncomfortable.

“What?”

“All this time,” he said, but didn’t continue.

I shook my head, not understanding.

“All this time, all these years.” His brow furrowed as he studied my face, as if I were a puzzle to be solved. “I’ve thought there was something about you. Something I couldn’t put my finger on.”

“You see me,” I said simply. “I think you’ve always seen me.”

His smile was slow, gentle, and sweetly sexy. “Why would I want to look anywhere else?”

I felt my cheeks bloom with delight at the compliment. Then I followed him inside, feeling suddenly awkward. Like a teenager on a first date.

Evan, apparently, didn’t feel that way at all. He crossed the foyer toward the intercom panel as if he owned the place, then pressed the button to locate Peterson. “Ms. Raine and I would like the condo to ourselves for a while, Peterson. Take the rest of tonight and tomorrow off.”

“Certainly, sir.”

I gaped at Evan, not sure if I should be irritated that he was bossing around my butler or excited about the prospect of another twenty-four hours.

I settled on embarrassment when I realized that Evan had pretty much drawn Peterson a picture of what was going on up here. “Subtle, much?” I grumbled.

He only laughed. “Trust me, I can be very discreet when the occasion calls for it. Right now, though, you’re mine. And I don’t care who knows it.”

“Oh.” I swallowed, those first date nerves firing up again. “So, do you want a glass of wine?”

“No,” he said simply. “I already told you what I want. I want you naked.”

Beneath the red lace of my bra, my nipples tightened. “I—oh.”

He nodded toward the bedroom. “On the bed. On your back. I’ll be along soon. Unless you’d rather I leave,” he added, when I didn’t move.

Slowly, I shook my head. And then, in the thick silence, I turned and started toward the bedroom.

I moved slowly, part of me wondering why I was so tentative. This was exactly what I’d wanted—and more. A man to take control. To not ask, but to tell. To not hesitate, but to act.

No, I corrected. Not a man. Evan.

There had only ever been Evan.

I still couldn’t quite believe he was here—and since I damn sure didn’t want him to go away, I did as I’d been told, gathering my courage and then unzipping my skirt. I considered folding it neatly, but I liked the recklessness that came from leaving it in a puddle on the floor, topped by my very damp panties.

I kicked my shoes aside and then moved to the bed, still in my shirt and bra. The air conditioner was blowing, and the breeze from the vent above me tickled my skin, and made me hyperaware of just how overheated I was.

Slowly, I unfastened the buttons of my blouse, letting my fingers drift over the swell of my breasts. I found the clasp on my bra and unfastened it, as well. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. All my wildness, all my adventures, and yet I’d never done anything like this before. I wanted it—dear god, I wanted it—but I couldn’t ignore the ripples of nerves or the tiny beads of sweat at the back of my neck and under my arms.

I drew in a deep breath for courage, then shimmied out of the blouse and tossed it carelessly over the side of the bed. And then, before I could think too much about it, I tugged off the bra and left it draped over the headboard, as if I’d tossed it there in a flurry of undressing.

And then that was it. I was naked.

I was naked, and I was alone. And I was all kinds of nervous.