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“You have far too much free time,” he muttered, his eyes gleaming with equal parts irritation and hunger.

Before she could retort, he seized her wrist, tugging her to her feet in one swift motion.

Her breath caught.

“Come with me,” he ordered.

She pulled back instinctively, but his grip was iron, his thumb brushing her pulse in a way that made it race faster. “Where are we going?”

He frowned, his glare searing. “You obviously cannot be trusted to behave. So, I’ll keep you where I can keep an eye on you before you dream up another way to drive me insane.”

Her heart pounded, though she forced a bored sigh. She was tired of being shut inside these walls, so she didn’t resist too hard. Just enough to show him she was yielding “under protest”. Still, his hand on her wrist sent sparks dancing across her skin, as if every nerve had awakened.

Not that she’d admit it.

In the garage, he gestured sharply to the waiting car. “Back seat.”

She stopped just short of the door, folding her arms. “I’m not in the mood to go out,” she lied, enjoying the way his jaw clenched.

He advanced, close enough that she could feel the heat rolling off him, his eyes burning into hers. “Madelaine, so help me…!” He cut himself off, visibly restraining the storm. His voice dropped into a dangerous growl. “Get in the car.”

She lifted her chin in defiance, challenging him.

“Please.”

The word caught her off guard. His voice was still taut, but something under it, something raw, loosened her defenses. She huffed theatrically, unfolding her arms as if granting a great favor, then climbed in.

At the last second, she hesitated, drawing out the moment.

His hand landed a sharp smack on her backside.

Madelaine gasped, spinning around, her eyes wide with outrage. And yet, heat licked through her veins, pooling low, traitorous and hot. She wanted to leap back into his arms, kiss him until she forgot every betrayal, every lie.

Instead, she climbed into the vehicle, then snapped her seatbelt into place, her face carefully blank.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as casually as possible.

“My office.”

“I thought your office was here,” she said, feigning indifference even as curiosity pricked at her.

“I have several,” he replied, his gaze locked on her mouth before returning to the window. “This one is my corporate headquarters.” His lips quirked faintly. “You can help in the next meeting.”

Twenty minutes later, Paulo guided her into an elegant conference room humming with quiet anticipation. The air smelled faintly of leather and polish, the table gleaming beneath the soft lights. Men in charcoal suits with crisp ties rose as they entered, while women in tailored suits and silk blouses regarded her with sharp, assessing gazes.

“Mr. Ruffino,” a blond woman greeted smoothly, rising with a smile that was as smooth as her sleek hairstyle. She extended her hand. “It’s such an honor to assist you.”

Madelaine noticed how the woman’s gaze lingered just a moment too long on Paulo’s mouth, how her laugh was pitched just a little too warmly. Something hot and sharp twisted in her chest before she tamped it down.

Paulo didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did, but his focus was only on Madelaine. “This is the woman who will give you the most information,” he announced, his voice edged with authority. Then he turned toward her, softer somehow. “Madelaine, this is Jennifer Miller. She’s the head of publicity for Ginseng Industries.”

Before she could respond, he pulled out a massive leather chair for her, waiting until she lowered herself onto it before taking his place beside her. His hand brushed her shoulder as he moved. The touch was brief, incidental. Yet it seared.

Madelaine perched on the edge of the chair, not sure why she was here. She glanced through the huge windows, where the Detroit River glimmered in the distance. The view was breathtaking, but the intensity of Paulo’s presence beside her was impossible to ignore.

He began, his deep voice commanding the room. “Everyone, Madelaine is your client. She’ll provide the insight that directs our efforts.” He turned to her. “Tell us how to spread word of your father’s funeral and wake.”

Madelaine blinked. “Excuse me?”