She moves closer to the window, almost pressing her nose against the glass. "Where's the restaurant?"

I reach between her and the door, pressing my front to her back, and grab the handle. "Up there." I push open the door and motion upward with my eyes when she peers up at me. "Ready?"

Her eyes slide back to the building. "Sure," she says.

She grabs her wig and hops down from the specially designed Escalade.

"Nix," Crane calls out before I have a chance to close the door. "Are you sure about this?"

Glancing back at Kennedy to find her staring up at the building and jostling between her feet, I say, "I got this, Crane. Swear. I know what I'm doing."

"Not calling your thinking into question. Just making sure you're using the right head, boss."

I know Crane's concerned, but I already checked Kennedy out before I headed to the club tonight. I let out a small laugh. "Be here tomorrow at ten. I have a meeting."

What I was able to find out about her did shock me slightly, but nothing threw up red flags. Her dad is an ex-senator, and her brother-in-law is now a senator. It seems that Kennedy was the love child of a long-standing affair and was kept hidden away most of her life. A few years ago, news broke about the affair, and Kennedy's face was splashed all over the newspapers and television. What the hell she's doing with Hassan is my biggest question. I don't know if she's rebelling and trying to make up for her daddy's issue, but she's doing it with the wrong man-one who plays a very dangerous game.

"Yes, sir. Have a good night."

"I plan on it." I give him a quick wink before slamming the car door.

Placing my hand on the small of her back, I help nudge her toward the doorway. "I hope you're hungry."

"What's the name of this restaurant?"

"Nix's Place."

She stops dead in her tracks and faces me. "You brought me to your place?"

I nod as her dark eyebrows pull downward and her eyes fill with suspicion. "Why?"

"I make a mean bowl of pasta. Best in town."

"I don't know. I don't know you very well."

"Been to Hassan's yet?"

She sighs. "Yes."

"I'm safer than him. I promise you'll make it home alive. That can't be said about your going to Hassan's place, Kennedy."

She straightens her back and puts her hands on her hips. She's trying so hard to act tough and menacing, but she just looks downright sexy. "Give me one good reason to go upstairs with you."

My hand follows the line of her spine before I grip the back of her neck, pulling her flush against me. "Because there's nowhere else you want to be." I lower my face close enough that I can feel her fast, warm breath against my lips. "And because of this." My mouth crashes against hers before she can push me away.

For a moment, she tenses, but when my tongue sweeps across her bottom lip and catches that damn piercing that's teased me since the moment I saw her, her breathing changes and her body melts into mine. I'm holding her face, controlling her movement with my hand resting against the warm flesh of her neck and relishing every moment of the way our lips move together. Kennedy's breathy moan when my arm snakes around her back and pulls her middle against my erection makes the attraction undeniable for both of us.

When I pull away, her eyes are closed and her lips are still puckered.

"Kennedy, I won't force you to come upstairs."

"Yes," she says quickly as her eyes flutter open and focus on my face.

"I'd like to talk with you and have dinner in private."

"Yes," she repeats in a breathy tone.

Without saying another word, I escort her through the front door. The doorman hangs up the phone as we enter the lobby. "Good evening, Mr. Ash."

"Evening, Troy. Everything well?"

He smiles, tipping his hat toward Kennedy. "Yes, sir. How are you two this evening?" He rushes to the elevator and presses the button, waiting by our side.

"We're well, thank you." I shake his hand as I always do. He's always looked out for me and never asked too many questions. "I can get it from here."

"Have a good night." He smiles at me before turning to Kennedy. "Evening, ma'am." Kennedy smiles and gives Troy a quick nod.

When we walk inside the elevator and the doors close, she moves to the wall across the tiny space. "I'm sure you live on the top floor, right?" she asks before I have a chance to press the button.

"It has the best view of the city."

"Uh-huh. Big car, flashy penthouse with a doorman."

"What are you saying?"

"You pretend that you're a gentleman, but I'm sure you bring a different woman back here all the time. He didn't look shocked to see me for the first time."

I stalk toward her, leaving only inches between our bodies as she presses her back against the wall. "Troy minds his own business."

Her dark eyes peer up at me, narrowed and hawkish. "Sure."

My hands rest on the bar behind her back, caging her in. "Kennedy, I don't invite people back to my place. In our world, privacy is too important."

Her back's plastered against the black paneling, but her middle is forward, pressing against my cock. She can't move with the position of my body and hands, but her eyes are growing wild and nervous. "Yet, you're having me here, and you don't even know me."

All I want to do is kiss her again, but she's fighting it. She's pretty good at trying to hide her emotions behind that smart mouth. I'm not buying it, but I give her some space.

Pushing myself away, I study her. "Kennedy Preston. Age twenty-three. You're the child of an affair between Stephanie Barnes and Stan Preston."

Her mouth drops open, and her eyes grow even wider. She puts her hand straight out in front of her. "Stop. That's enough."

When the doors open, I step backward and press the down button to keep the doors from closing. "Still want to come inside?" I challenge.

She pulls her lip inside her mouth and stares at me for a moment. There's a war inside her mind. I can see it in her eyes. As the doors start to close, she steps out into my foyer. "I hope you're cooking dinner. I really am starving."

"Come on." I motion for her to follow me so she doesn't wander anywhere she shouldn't, but I have a feeling she's going to snoop around my place anyway. I'd taken the steps to hide anything that I didn't want her to see before I left tonight because I had every intention of bringing her back to my place.

"Pretty swanky place." She whistles as the foyer opens to the sprawling, three-story glass living room. "I would've pictured you living in a place a little less..."

"White?" I ask, coming to a stop behind her as she looks around the room.

"Well, yeah. It's bright in here even though it's nighttime." She steps toward the windows and peers down at the city lights. "You just seemed more like a dungeon dweller."

I can't hide my amusement at her statement. "I like to surround myself with beautiful things, and the white helps make the artwork and city backdrop pop."

"Kinda like that cute little thing at the store today?" She doesn't look at me, but she's fishing and there's a hint of jealousy in her words.

"She's a friend, Kennedy. Nothing more."

"You buy clothes for all your friends?"

"I buy plenty of things for my friends, but I never kiss them."

Her eyes flash with anger and acknowledgment. "You kissed me."

I head toward the kitchen. "We aren't friends." Keeping my back to her, I start to pull a pot down from the rack over the island stove.

She stalks in behind me with her Manolos clicking against the white marble floor. "Excuse me?"

"Sit." I point toward the stool across from me, where we can both keep an eye on each other.

She lets out a loud huff and doesn't move for a minute, but when I say nothing more and turn on the burner, she climbs onto the stool and rests her face against the back of her hand. She watches me closely, but her body's bouncing from the way she's tapping her foot nervously against the rung of the barstool.

I make quick work of chopping the tomatoes, garlic, and onions, throwing them in the pan. Bending down to check the flame, I catch a glimpse of her. "What's eating you?"

"Who are you?"

"Nix."

She places her palms flat against the countertop, letting them slide on the marble as she bends forward and gives me a glimpse of her cleavage that's practically falling out of her red bustier. "I know that. You're cooking like you're comfortable and do it all the time. You're a mysterious man, Nix."

"I like it that way. I'm just being me."

"Well, you seem to know all about me. What do I need to know about you?"

I grab a bottle of red wine I'd opened earlier today and pull out the cork. I hold it out for her to read the label before I begin to pour. "Want a glass?"

"How do I know you didn't drug it?"

I stop mid-pour and laugh at her foolishness. "Why would I drug you?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Maybe you want to take advantage of me." Her eyes wander around the kitchen and never meet mine.

After handing her a glass, I pour myself one before setting it on the counter. "First, I've never drugged anyone. Two, I can't take advantage of the willing. And last, I wouldn't have been seen in public with you and brought you back here if I meant you any harm. I'll drink mine first so you know you're safe." She eyes me skeptically as I drink the entire glass and pour myself another. "Happy?"

She smiles widely and lifts her glass to her beautiful lips. "I'm satisfied."

"I don't get you, Kennedy. Something about you doesn't make sense. What's with the fake names and wigs? I don't understand why you're hanging out with Hassan either. He's dangerous, and you don't seem the type." I'm dancing around the topic, hoping she says something that will fill in some blanks without my coming right out and asking.

"What type do I seem?" she asks over the rim of the wineglass.

"If I'm going off what I know and what I've observed, I'm guessing you're a bored little rich girl looking for trouble." My words hit a nerve because she snarls, but I continue. "Or you're looking for attention from your father by associating with the worst criminals in the country."

"Maybe I'm looking for a career." She takes a gulp of the wine, but she keeps her eyes pinned on me.

I busy myself with finishing our dinner instead of staring at her and fantasizing. Sometimes I know it's easier for people to talk openly when they aren't being studied or lusted after. "You want to get into the same line of work as Hassan?"

"Hell, no. I thought I could learn a thing or two by getting close to him." She refills her glass and holds the bottle up to me, but I shake my head. "But so far, he just wants to get in my pants."

"He thinks women are only useful for one thing. If you're looking to learn the business, Hassan isn't the one to teach you, kid."

She starts to cough, and wine dribbles down her chin before she sticks out her tongue and licks it away. "Kid?"

"You're twenty-three, Kennedy. You're too young to be part of Hassan's world." My voice is surprisingly even given that my insides are jumping after watching her tongue swipe against her skin. I wonder how the wine tastes on her lips and if they're as sweet as I imagine them to be.

"I may be younger than most, but I'm cut out for this, Nix."

"Fuckin' women in my life," I mutter as I pour the pasta on the plate and wonder how I now have two clueless women trying to stick their noses where they don't belong.

"You don't sound any better than Hassan."

"It's not that. This life isn't cut out for everyone. You're too high profile with your family tree to get involved in the world I live in. You obviously haven't thought this through."

Her back straightens as I slide the plate in front of her. "I have," she says.

Taking the seat next to her, I pour myself another glass and top hers off before taking my first forkful. She's still twisting the pasta around the tines, deep in thought and probably pissed off by the statement I made about women. Between her and Coco, I want to shake some sense into them.

"This is great," she says after swallowing the first bite. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"I know a few dishes, but this one my grandmother taught me."

"She did good." She dabs her lips with a napkin I'd slid her way.

The Eva I met in the club is nothing like the woman sitting next to me, slurping up pasta sauce in the most uncivilized manner. The conversation is easy between us as I get little tidbits about her life. Her relationship with her father is almost nonexistent after the affair became public knowledge, but she's close with her siblings, including a sister from her father's marriage before she was born.

"What about you, Nix? Any brothers or sisters?"

I shake my head and push my plate forward, done with food and wanting to get to the real main course. "Just me."

"How about your parents?"

"Alive and well in Boston."

She smirks because she already guessed the Boston piece by my almost imperceptible accent. "What made you get into this business?"

I study her and scratch the hairs on my chin. "Is this a job interview, Kennedy?"

"Just making small talk." She pushes her plate next to mine and turns to face me. She rests her chin on her hand and stares at me. "You aren't who I thought you were."