FOUR

      Kade Vandergriff smiled when he heard soft snores coming from his left. Oh, how quickly a shitty day had morphed into an amazing evening. When he’d headed out tonight for location visits, all his frustration from a completely useless session with his attorney about their seemingly winless case had come along with him. It probably would’ve been wise to go home afterward to let himself settle down. But he hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of pacing the halls of his big, empty house for the night. The silence and space would’ve made him crazy.

      So he’d driven into Dallas to visit his restaurants, hoping to channel all the crap from the day into a productive evening. But after only a few hours into his drop-in visits, his frustration hadn’t gone away but had instead morphed into nebulous, growing anger. By the time he’d arrived at Barcelona and discovered three of their most popular dishes had been eighty-sixed because of the manager’s oversight, Kade had been on the verge of a Gordon Ramsay moment.

      But then Contessa had walked into the restaurant, chatting with her friend and looking like she wanted to be anywhere but there. Kade had stopped midsentence in his lecture to his manager and had forgotten why he was so damn pissed. He’d left his manager without another word and followed Contessa into the dating event, having no idea why he felt so compelled to follow her or what he was going to do once he got to her. But when her name hadn’t been on the list, he’d jumped at the opportunity to step in. A few minutes into their time upstairs, she’d made him forget every crappy thing that had happened that day. He’d gotten lost in the moment, lost in her.

      He glanced over at his dozing companion. Contessa had curled up on one of the sofas in the bar to wait while he picked up the last of the food and dishes they’d used on their rooftop “un-date,” but exhaustion had apparently gotten the better of her. Or maybe it was the six-course meal, the three glasses of sangria, and the two bouts of amazing sex. Even he was feeling weary on his feet, and staying up until three A.M. was not a rare occurrence with his schedule.

      Not for the first time, he wished they were back at his place where he could strip her down and tuck her into his bed for the night. Wake her up with his tongue between her thighs because damn the woman was sexy when she came. It was like each time it happened, she was surprised, like she didn’t think herself capable of that passionate of a response. And for some reason, she thought she wouldn’t like kink yet had responded to his commands with beautiful capitulation. Which, of course, only made him want to find out just how out of her mind he could drive her. They’d only scratched the surface tonight.

      But he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get another chance. She’d laid it all out up front, refreshing but brutal in her honesty. She’d wanted an escape tonight. She’d wanted to use him for that, and he’d been happy to oblige. Hell, the one-night fantasy had become his specialty lately. Not that he was complaining. He’d enjoyed playing the third in a few scenes with his friends’ submissives at The Ranch, the private BDSM resort he belonged to. And he’d had his fair share of casual encounters over the past few years with kinky women, as well as vanilla ones. Fun nights. Exciting flings. Wild adventures.

      But in the end, the result was always the same. After the initial rush, he lost interest. Since his divorce, even women who’d been open to considering moving the relationship to a more intense level—the level he desperately craved—he couldn’t seem to muster up the desire. Too often, it felt like those women were simply agreeing to his flavor of kink because of all the fringe benefits. He’d been down that road. Nothing like finding out the girlfriend you’re tying up and flogging actually hates pain and all things kink and is only taking it because she wants you to buy her that Coach purse or bring her on that trip to Maui.

      But even the women who hadn’t been motivated for the wrong reasons had lost his interest in a month or two. The lifestyles reporter at the local paper had taken to calling him the Time Share Bachelor because his relationships had ended on such a predictable schedule. He never strayed, but he never stayed either. Sometimes he wondered if his divorce had rewired him to only be capable of the temporary. So perhaps it was best for all involved that Contessa walked away from him tonight. Clean. Easy. No attachments or regrets. Everyone could look golden in a one-night stand. A flawless fantasy night for both their memory banks.

      Kade sighed as he carried an armful of bowls into the kitchen to rinse them out, unable to shake his desire for more time with Contessa despite his perfectly valid internal arguments. They’d spent hours together. He’d taken her twice. It should be enough. Plus, she was vanilla for God’s sake. This wasn’t like meeting some girl at The Ranch where he could imagine all the dirty things they could try out and mutually enjoy. Contessa, despite her little glimmers of bravado, had a shyness about her, like she was almost awkward about sex. When he’d pinned her hands above her head, her eyes had gone as wide as a virgin’s on prom night. She may’ve been married, but clearly her husband hadn’t given her any more than the basics.

      A damn tragedy, that. Because the kind of eager responsiveness she’d shown upstairs proved the woman was built for pleasure, starved for it. And everything in his body was giving a battle cry to be the man to feed her. But there was no way in hell he was going to chase her for the chance. He didn’t chase. Period. He’d spent too many years when he was a kid doing that crap, and it only got you humiliated. Chasing. Pining. Fantasizing about girls he couldn’t have. Only to be turned down so she could go be with the jerk who treated her like shit.

      Never again. He’d learned. Girls who wanted to be chased, wanted to be in control of you. And control is one thing he’d never relinquish again.

      “Need any help?”

      Kade looked up from dumping the last of the food into the trash bin, finding Contessa wearing a sleepy-eyed half smile. He shook his head, his whirling thoughts calming at the sight of her. “Nah, it’s been a while since I’ve been on clean-up duty in a kitchen, but I haven’t forgotten how to do it.”

      “So are you a chef?” she asked.

      He smiled, amused that she hadn’t bothered to ask his position up until this point. It was a nice change of pace. Most women knew his whole resume before ever saying word one to him. “I went to culinary school, so technically, yes, I could be a chef. But that isn’t my current position. I own this place.”

      And many, many others. But he didn’t need to volunteer that at this point. He kind of liked