"Now I can compare."

"How about wine?" I handed the drink menu across the table.

She brushed it away. "I'm not ashamed to admit I know nothing about wine. You're the expert."

I set it on top of the menu. "What do you like? Red or white?"

Her fingers moved to her hair again, pulling a strand free of her ear. "I'm not sure. What we have at the estate is good. Like I said, you're the expert here." She never yielded the floor to me. And she never let me make decisions on her behalf.

I'd tamed her, in a way. "Then leave it to me."

The waitress approached our table and flashed her mocha eyes in my direction. She probably recognized me from the vineyard. I wasn't a celebrity by any means, but Tuscans knew their wine-and where it came from.

She exchanged a few pleasantries with me in Italian, ignoring my date for a few minutes too long.

I quickly redirected the conversation to the food. In Italian, I ordered for both of us and handed the menus over.

She gave a false smile, hiding the hurt from my rejection.

When we were alone again, I watched Button across the table. A hint of irritation was in her eyes, but she hid most of her unease.

"She was just asking me about my vineyard."

"I thought we didn't lie to each other." Her voice turned ice-cold, putting me right on the spot.

How did she know?

"I can understand a little bit of Italian. And she was coming on to you, assuming I was a stupid American who couldn't figure out what you were saying. Are all Italians that disrespectful?"

The fire in her voice made my cock come to life in my trousers. Hearing her anger and possessiveness was a turn on-even though it should've irritated me. "I'm going home with you tonight. So let it go."

"Still annoying..." She grabbed a piece of bread from the basket and tore off a few pieces before she popped them into her mouth.

I didn't go out to dinner very often. The only time I did was when I was seeing someone or I had a meeting. While I loved the food, I preferred the meals Lars prepared-because there was no social interaction required.

"Do you date?" She looked down at her hands and pulled the bread apart.

"Right now?"

"No. Before me."

I didn't want to be asked these kinds of questions but I assumed it was part of the agreement. If she didn't ask anything, there wouldn't be much to talk about. I was fine with the silence but she wasn't. "I have relationships...here and there."

"So, you don't beat them like you do with me?"

"No, I do." That was the best part of the relationship. When they trusted me, they allowed me to do the darkest things to them. They came to adore it and wanted more.

"Have you ever been with a woman without resorting to that?"

"A few." We would hook up a few times, but I was never satisfied. I needed violence to get off and satiate my appetite. "But they don't last long."

"Do you ever want to get married? Have children?"

"No." The answer came out harsh, offended she asked the question at all. In my line of work, I couldn't care for anyone. I couldn't have a wife and a family. I would always be a target until the end of my days. If someone wanted to cross me, all they'd have to do is take someone I loved.

And I couldn't lose anyone else.

Button understood she crossed a line with her question and backed off. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"Then don't."

"I was just curious. No ill intention."

"Do you want to get married someday?"

"No." She said just as quickly as I did.

That surprised me. Since she wanted to have a date, I assumed she still believed in romance. Maybe I was wrong. "May I ask why?"

"I don't trust anyone. And I never will again." She finished the slice of bread then picked up another.

I didn't touch the basket. I wasn't a big fan of bread.

"You shouldn't let him ruin your future." Not all men would have done something so sadistic. I was a criminal, a murderer, and a thief. But even I wouldn't have done that. "You will find someone who truly cares for you."

"Even so, my ability to trust is gone. It'll never come back."

"All things come back-in time."

She shook her head. "When you've seen what I've seen, that's not possible. I've seen how foul men really are. I've seen how their cocks control their every move. I've seen the real side to people-and men are all the same."

I wanted to argue that point but I couldn't. I was one of the most evil men I'd ever encountered. I may not have raped her but that didn't make me a good person. I was still accepting a bribe to get her to open her legs. I wasn't any better. "I'm sorry this experience has made you lose your faith."

"It hasn't. It's only opened my eyes."

The waitress returned with our meals and placed them between us. She only had eyes for me and ignored Button, probably assuming she was a colleague or client, not my sex slave.

Button stared at her hard, silently threatening her.

She poured the wine then disappeared-thankfully.

When she was gone, Button's sour mood faded.

"You're the jealous type?"

"I'm not jealous." She cut into her lasagna. "I don't like it when people write me off as insignificant."

"She probably thinks you're a client."

"Well, I'm not." She took a few bites, still tense.

She never wanted to get married and she didn't trust anyone, but yet, she was jealous. It didn't add up. But then again, if I saw a man go anywhere near her I'd stab a knife through his chest. It had nothing to do with love. It was all about possession. "Now she'll know." I slid my hand across the table and grabbed hers. I interlocked our fingers together and continued eating.

Her fingers immediately responded to mine. They shifted against my skin until they clung to me tightly. She eyed our combined hands, her anger immediately gone when the affection arrived.

We sat at a table near the window and enjoyed appetizers and the different wines we sampled. I'd already tried every kind of wine in my vicinity. I knew what I produced and I understand what my competitors made. The experience was anti-climatic.

But Button enjoyed it.

She sampled each wine after she stirred the glass like a professional. "I like this one."

"It's one of mine."

"Really?"

I nodded.

"How many kinds of wines do you produce?"

That was a loaded question. "Of the top of my head...at least a hundred."

"Wow. Have you always been interested in wine?"

"I suppose. But I've always been interested in hard liquor as well."

"Did you start the winery on your own?"

I nodded.

She rested her wrists on the edge of the table, her toned arms sexy. Her hair had fallen to both shoulders because she stopped touching, and it framed her face like she was about to step into a photo shoot. The dress covered the scars on her back and ass but I knew they were there. "How did you accomplish that?"

My mind was pulled from the small scars across her ass. "I've been in the weapon business for a long time. I had a falling out with my father and set out to open my own business. I was tired of being bossed around. I was tired of living in his shadow. So I took my cut and opened the winery. Within a few years, it was a success."

"When did you go back to the business?"

"When my father passed away." I'd never truly grieved for him either. The last time we spoke we both said hurtful things. Years of silence passed until Mom called me and told me the news. "I returned to the business with Cane and we became partners. So my time has been split between the two."

Even though she was silent her eyes showed her interest. Every word entered her ear and stayed in her mind. She gave me her entire focus whenever we were together. "Do you enjoy it now?"

"Not really." The business wasn't something I was proud of. It led to more problems than it was worth. I made a lot of enemies, the kind that never slept. Bones was my biggest adversary, a fight born before we even met each other. "But Cane wants me to be a part of it. Doesn't want to run it on his own."

"When did you start listening to him?"

The corner of my lip lifted in a smile. "I know he can't handle it alone. He's impulsive whereas I'm methodical. He's impatient while I take things slow. He thinks with greed more than logic. We balance each other out."

"Do you enjoy the winery?"

"Yes. It's an honest living and I'm proud of what I've accomplished. I started the vineyards when I was eighteen and within a few years it became the biggest winery in Italy."

"Your mother must have been proud."

"Yes." But my father never was. He called it pussy shit.

"I'd like to see it sometime, if you're willing to show me."

"Sure." I wouldn't mind taking her over my desk in my office after a day in the fields. I wouldn't mind showing her off to my workers, letting them see the woman I took to bed every night. Having her on my arm was a power play sometimes.

She finished her wine then moved onto the next one. "Thank you for answering my questions."

She'd been living with me for three months and we never had a conversation about anything real. It was straight down to business, straight down to buttons and lace. I answered her questions with ease without even realizing it. She knew more about me than anyone, with the exception of Lars. "I don't mind answering them when it doesn't feel like an interrogation."

"I've never wanted to interrogate you. I've only wanted to know you." Her eyes dropped to her glass and she stirred the wine before she took a drink.

Anytime her gaze was averted I watched her. I examined the way her fingers gripped the top of the glass with her painted nail. They were ruby red, matching the color of her lipstick. She had long and slender fingers, perfect for wrapping around my cock when she sucked me off. When her lids were down I could see every single lash as it reached out and curved upright at the ends. They were full and lush, thicker than I'd ever seen them. She was beautiful every day without make up but when she dressed herself up she looked too good to be true. Never in my life had I sat across from a woman more gorgeous than she. And she didn't have a clue. How did someone from a calloused background become so soft and beautiful? How did she hold onto her natural elegance, her pride? "You grew up in New York?"

She finished her wine before she returned it to the table. "Born and raised. There's no city in the world quite like it."

"Do you miss it?"

She shrugged. "Being in a place like this makes me resent all the traffic, the people, the noise, and the pollution. My skin looks better than it ever has, and my lungs feel like they can breathe for the first time. So no, I guess I don't miss it. I used to love that place but now that I've been here...don't love it as much."

At least she was enjoying herself at my estate. She lived a life of luxury. She was waited on hand-and-foot, and she was in the presence of the most beautiful valley in all the world. "Have you spoken to your parents since you went your separate ways?" Her file told me a lot about her, but it didn't tell me the details only a recount could give.

"No." Her voice was absent of bitterness. "I doubt they care. I was an accident they didn't know what to do with. Living in foster care was difficult. Living on the streets was difficult too. But I'd rather go through that again than be anywhere near them."

I didn't flinch at the resentment in her voice. My father and I butted heads through the years, but that was because we were both so controlling. He knocked me around when I disagreed with him but that made me push harder. But I did respect him. I was much better off than she ever was. "Were you ever adopted?"

"Once. It was this nice family in Manhattan. I liked the wife and the husband. But then she became pregnant and they realized they couldn't afford to keep me. So they sent me back."

My expression didn't change but I felt my heart twist into a knot. To be welcomed into a family and then replaced when the real child came along must have been traumatic. "How old were you?"

"Thirteen."

That made it worse. "I'm sorry."

"It is what it is. When I started college I molded into the person I was meant to be. The students didn't know about my background so I had a clean start. That was when my life changed. Things got better and I was happy for the first time in my life-my loans aside." She chuckled before she poured the next sample into her glass.

I admired more than ever before. She'd been through hell but still came out positive. She could have a pity party for herself but never did. She pushed on and never gave up.

She reminded me of myself.

"Did you have a boyfriend in college?" The idea made me sick. There were other men before me. There would be men after me. The idea shouldn't bother me. In fact, I shouldn't even blink at the thought. But I did. I asked a question without wanting the answer.

"Yes." She smiled at the memory. "Jason. He was a nice guy."

She spoke fondly of her ex. That was a rare sight. "Why did you break up?"