Turning, she waved a waitress down and wrote a quick note. “Give this to him in five minutes, please.”

With tears blurring her eyes, she headed quickly to her car and went home. Hoping like hell she’d made the right decision.

* * *

At home an hour later, Dahlia heard a pounding on her door. She knew who it was and sat in the dark, hoping he’d go away and praying he wouldn’t all at once. He pounded again, said her name and then once more, louder.

It was after two and if he continued, he’d wake up her neighbors. She went to the door and opened it a crack, but he wasn’t having it.

He gently but firmly reached in and moved her back, came inside and locked up behind himself.

Before he said a word, he grabbed her and kissed her hard. No tongue, just a crush of his mouth against hers. Enough that his taste rushed through her system, bringing her body to life, her desire for him cutting sharp.

“Now. Sit.” He motioned to the couch and she narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Who do you think you are coming in here and ordering me around this way?”

“Fine. Stand, but I’m talking here. You showed atrocious manners tonight, Dahlia.”

“I showed atrocious manners?” Her voice rose along with her back. “You know, where I come from, bringing one girl to the party and coming on to another is bad manners. But maybe manners are different on your side of the tracks.”

“You know, your attitude about my money is really tiresome! I work hard, Dahlia, and it’s insulting that you assume otherwise!”

“Don’t you yell at me in my house! I know you work hard, Nash. But that doesn’t erase the fact that you took me to the high-roller room and five minutes later you’re hitting on another woman.”

“In the first place, I wasn’t hitting on anyone. I was there with you and I don’t want that to change. I was talking to a friend. In the second place, you didn’t explain why it’s okay for you to make the tracks comment.”

“Oh, my God!” She threw her hands into the air. “You run in a totally different crowd, Nash. The moneyed crowd. You and William work for your money, but a whole lot of your circle just plays. All the time. Everything and everyone is a game to them. I’ve dealt with them quite a bit since I arrived in Vegas. Men who think a D cup is license to fondle my tits when I just want to learn how to run a business! Or that I’ll fall down with my thighs wide for a few sips of expensive champagne at the club. You thought so, too, that first night, don’t lie!”

He tossed himself onto her couch. On the way he reached out to grab her waist and bring her down with him, not letting her go.

“I don’t deny I was a stupid asshole that first night. But I’d like to think I’m a better person now. Yes, we come from different backgrounds, but I don’t understand why you’d want to break up over it.” His voice was gentle as he traced over the curve of her bottom lip.

“Tonight I saw a glimpse of my future, Nash, and it hurt,” she said softly, emotion in her voice. “I’m not that sophisticated. This is…more for me. I just can’t be an accessory. It hurts too much.”

“You’re not an accessory. Dahlia, I’m with you. You. I don’t want anyone else. I’ve thought about nothing else but you for months. I admit I’ve not been as sensitive as I could have been in the past when I’ve broken it off with women, but I’m a better person now. Because of you. Won’t you please tell me the story? I saw the way you looked tonight when Lara came out of The Dollhouse and glared at you. And I heard the anger and pain in your voice when you talked about wanting to learn how to run a business but being groped. Tell me. Please. How can I understand you if you won’t share with me?”

Dahlia told him about Bill Warner and his nasty ex-wife. She didn’t tell him about high school or any of the other experiences she’d weathered; it wasn’t necessary. She wanted to underline their class differences and also give him the story he seemed to want so damned bad. She’d see just how special he thought she was now.

“Dahlia, my God. I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, Bill Warner is known as a philandering asshole and I’m sure you weren’t the only intern he abused that way. Lara is bitter.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips over her forehead. “I understand more now. I’m going to pop Bill in the face if I ever see that bastard again.

“I wouldn’t humiliate you like that. I may not be the most sensitive guy around but I’m not Bill. You deserve better and I want to give it to you. But I can’t if you’re always assuming the worst of me. I’m trying. I admitted I saw you as a stereotype and I stopped. Won’t you do the same?”

It was going to hurt like a bastard when he finally moved on; she knew it, but she didn’t have the strength in her to let him go. Not yet. And he’d touched her with his reaction after she’d unloaded her story about Bill. It felt so good to be able to tell someone about it.

“Oh, all right. I suppose I can keep you around awhile yet. You’re awfully good in bed.”

“Let’s just make sure of that, shall we?”

* * *

Nash awoke to an empty bed. For a moment he lay there, breathing her in from the sheets. The scent of their lovemaking sent warmth through his system.

Stretching, he got up and followed the aroma of coffee, stopping to appreciate the sight of her standing in her kitchen, looking cool and elegant in a gray pinstripe suit.

“Wow. You clean up nice.”

She blushed. “Thank you. I look okay, then? You’d hire me if you weren’t fucking me?”

He heard the note of uncertainty in her voice and his heart constricted for a moment. “You look very professional,” he reassured her as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I take it you’re interviewing with Joseph today?”

One of her eyebrows went up. “Joseph? Joseph Tate? How did you know it was him?”

Chagrined, he sighed. “Okay, so I do a lot of business with the Tate Group International people, and Joseph is a friend. You mentioned the upcoming interview and I happened to see him last week. He likes you, thinks you’re a hard worker and smart. I didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know.”

“I like to do things on my own, Nash.”

“You have. You are. Look, Dahlia, you’re an MBA. You know the world of business isn’t just about how hard you work but who you know. Joseph isn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t hire you just because I talked you up. He already thinks you’re a good candidate and if my speaking to him adds to the reasons why he should hire you, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

Swallowing down the last of her coffee, she stopped fighting her smile. “Okay. I appreciate that, Nash. But this kind of thing is really important to me. I want to make this on my own merits, you know?”

He put his hands at her waist and drew her closer. “I do know. When you grow up with money, people assume you got ahead because of that and not your own work. I would never sabotage you or try and make an end run around you like that. I’m really good at talking to people, you know. It’s what I do.”

“I can see you’re very good at it.”

Nash couldn’t hide his pleasure, leaning in to kiss her neck, not wanting to mess up her lipstick. “He was impressed with the work you did for them.”

Joseph had also said that once the women in the office had gotten to know Dahlia, the hostility level had dropped and her work had improved even more.

She blushed, clearly pleased. “God. Okay, I can’t think about that right now. I need to go. There’s food in the fridge. Just lock up when you leave.”

Something inside him quailed a moment and then eased. “Will you call me later on to let me know how it went?”

She kissed him quickly and pulled on her suit jacket. The deep gray complemented her coloring, but she appeared very professional.

And, still, her sensuality smoldered. It wasn’t overt. She wasn’t trying, she just was sexy. He loved that about her and hoped she’d find it within herself to accept that as a part of who she was. Anger at Warner boiled up for a moment, but he shoved it away—she didn’t need it.