“You’ve kept them for years?” I remove my plain gold studs, my fingers shaking.

“Two days after your first interview, I saw them at an auction.” John’s eyes glow as he helps me with the earrings. They’re surprisingly light, as light as his caresses. “They’re French and very old and I knew they’d be perfect for you.”

I play with the earrings, stunned that he’d give me such a treasure. He must care for me…at least a little. “That was a risky purchase. You didn’t know we’d be working together.”

“Didn’t I?” John’s lips curl upward. “You were quick and clever, refreshingly candid, and you answered every question with that feigned subservience bordering on insolence you have since perfected. I knew I had to have you.”

“For your assistant.” I gaze at him. If my determined boss had wanted me sexually three years ago, he would have seduced me.

“For everything.” John pulls me closer to him, pushing my face into the curve of his shoulder, cradling me against his body. “I knew you’d be mine.”

How long will I be his? I discard this worry and savor his warmth, his scent, the quiet, a calm between requests. My billionaire boss is thinking, he’s always thinking, and soon he’ll need information to confirm or refute his thoughts. I flatten his tie, caress his chest.

The vehicle slows, stops. “Stay by my side tonight, Grant,” John warns. The door opens. He exits first, holds out one of his hands.

I clasp his rough palm and allow him to draw me to my feet. Lights flash. Cameras whir. Reporters shout questions. John places his arm around me and guides me through the chaos. Someone asks who I am. Another reporter answers I’m his assistant.

A man in a poorly fitted suit opens the door to the mayor’s concrete and glass modern mansion. We cross the threshold and enter a brightly lit lobby. The ruckus dissipates. Strains of a violin drift in the perfume-scented air, the contrast jarring.

We’ve traveled to a different world, a world where ugliness and assistants don’t exist, a world where everyone is rich and beautiful and devoid of emotion. I don’t attempt to fit in, to belong, gazing around us with unguarded wonder.

A sharp-edged modern light fixture hangs from the high ceiling. The walls and floors are white. The furniture is sparse, modern, and black. Modern art provides a splash of bright color in the monochrome space, drawing gazes.

Waiters in cheap tuxedos circulate with hors d’oeuvres. Men in dark suits and women in glittering dresses gather in groups of threes and fours, drinking out of champagne flutes and chatting. I recognize many of the attendees, John having met with them.

The mayor and his wife talk with an ad agency partner and his woman of the day. The city’s top politician glances toward us, his eyes widen and he whispers into his wife’s ear. She looks at John, then at me, and her face hardens. The mayor pulls on her arm. She shakes her head. He shrugs and approaches us solo, an insincere smile on his round face.

“Mr. Powers.” The mayor grips John’s hand. “And Miss Grant, Mr. Powers’ lovely assistant. This is a surprise.” He lowers his gaze, openly ogling my breasts and legs. “A delectable surprise.” He smacks his lips.

I step backward, trembling with disgust. He’s the city’s mayor, a powerful man and I can’t say anything, not without making trouble for my boss.

John draws me into his body, his clasp on my waist tightening. “If you don’t show Miss Grant more respect, we’ll leave,” he warns.

“We wouldn’t want that.” The mayor meets John’s gaze. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years, the moment when the great John Powers violates his infamous non-fraternization policy, is caught dipping his pen in the company ink.” He smirks.

John never mixes business and pleasure. My body temperature plummets, the wave of cold almost bringing me to my knees. Oh my God. By forcing him to recognize our relationship, I’ve made him a hypocrite, an object of ridicule. My shoulders shake. I’ve hurt John, damaging his pride and his reputation in the business world.

“I’m not you, Mayor Whitlock.” John’s voice is scary soft. “I don’t violate my policies on a whim, never thinking of the consequences. I knew what your reaction would be, what everyone would think. A smart man would ask himself why I’m taking this step.”

The mayor’s mouth opens and closes and opens again. He’s not a smart man.

I’m not a smart woman either. I thought I was clever but clearly I’m not. I’ve hurt the man I love with my foolishness.

John steers me through the room, and I walk in a daze, not knowing how to fix this situation. Guests turn their heads, tracking our movements, hiding their moving mouths behind their well-groomed hands, their eyes gleaming with speculation.

They’re talking about us, about John and his fall from grace. “I’m sorry, sir,” I murmur, my head bowed and my shoulders rounded.

“Chin up, Grant,” he commands. I obey, lifting my gaze to his. Gold dances in his brown eyes, my boss appearing more amused than angry. “This had to be done.” He guides me around three giant haphazardly stacked cubes, the modern sculpture child-like.

“This didn’t have to be done.” I shake my head, confused by his lack of concern. “You could have asked someone else to be your date tonight. We could have kept our relationship private.”

John maneuvers me into an empty corner of the room. “How could we keep our relationship private?” Furrows form on his forehead. “You’re living with me.”

I blink. “I am?”

His lips twitch. “You are.” He grazes his scarred knuckles over my cheek. “You belong to me. I want everyone to know that.”

My anxiety melts under his touch. “Tonight will have consequences.” I push my face into his fingers.

“Tonight will have consequences for everyone.” John curves his palms over my jaw, raising my chin even higher. “This is an opportunity to separate the clever businessmen from the idiots.” He smiles.

This is the man I adore, always making the best of bad situations. I gaze up at John with admiration. “I love you.” The words slip out.

My boss jerks backward as though I’ve physically assaulted him, his spine straightening and his muscles flexing.

Oh my God. I’ve made everything worse. “I mean--”

John presses his index finger against my lips, stopping my sure-to-be inadequate explanation. “We’ll talk about this later.” He glances pointedly to his right. Two bankers and their wives are watching us, listening to our conversation.

He won’t tell me he doesn’t love me in public. John would never embarrass me that way. “I’m sorry,” I apologize again, turning my head, unable to look at him.

“I’m not sorry.” His voice is soft.

A waiter offers us a selection of skewers. John chooses one beef and one chicken, forgoing the shrimp. He hands the beef to me and bites into the chicken.

I nibble on the tender meat, my mind spinning. I told my boss I loved him. There’s no taking back this declaration, no pretending I don’t feel the way I do. This is scary and also a relief. I no longer have to disguise my emotions.

John switches hors d’oeuvres, finishing the beef, leaving a piece of savory chicken for me. “We’ve found our quiet corner.”

“Are we working?” I ask, hopeful. Business is familiar and safe. If we escaped for a moment, I might be able to deal with the rest of the night.

“We don’t have time.” John takes the wooden skewer from me and places it on a passing waiter’s tray. “We have an incoming fool at twelve o’clock.”

Rexton Bass rushes toward us. He’s dressed in the same inappropriately casual gray suit and black T-shirt he wore to his meeting with John.

“Mr. Powers.” He smiles, displaying perfectly straight teeth and a pair of dimples. “Trella.” His blue eyes widen. “I didn’t know you were attending this shindig.”

“Her name is Miss Grant.” John splays his fingers over my back.