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She continued, far too innocently, “And sexting should probably be ruled out too. I wouldn’t want to get you flustered while you’re working.”

I stared at her.

So my girl had attitude tonight.

She wanted to poke the bear.

Fine.

I could give her that.

My original plan after the proposal had been considerably sweeter. I’d intended to take my time with her, make love to her slowly, and worship every inch of the woman who had agreed to become my wife.

That plan had changed.

Isabella needed a small lesson in prudence and a little sweet punishment, enough to teach her that being spoiled and behaving like a spoiled brat were two very different things.

And judging by the spark in her eyes, she was going to enjoy finding out exactly what the difference was.

Mouse had surprised me from the first moment she slipped into that dungeon. I suspected she would keep surprising me for the rest of my life, and now I had all the time in the world to learn just how far she wanted me to take her.

I smiled and tipped my chin toward the glass behind her.

“Hands on the window, Mouse.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t hesitate. She turned back toward the glass and spread both palms against it, the city glittering beyond her reflection.

I moved in behind her and gathered the skirt of her dress slowly, lifting the fabric until her legs were bare and the hem rested high over her hips. She watched me in the darkened window, her breathing changing when I pushed the skirt over her hips and exposed the narrow scrap of lace between her cheeks.

My fingers followed the curve of her ass, tracing the same skin I’d been dying to get my hands on since that last photo hit my phone.

“What do you think happens to a naughty girl who spends Valentine’s Day teasing the fuck out of the man who only wanted to spoil her rotten?”

Her gaze stayed on mine in the reflection.

“You did say you wanted rotten.”

Then she had the audacity to wiggle her ass.

The little menace.

“Oh, you’re definitely testing me.”

Her mouth curved. “Maybe.”

I reached for my belt.

The buckle opened with a metallic click that wiped some of the mischief from her expression. I drew the leather through the loops in one quick pull and folded it in half, never taking my eyes from hers in the glass.

She started to turn.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I said hands on the window, Mouse.”

She slapped her palms back against the glass and lifted her chin, but the challenge had already returned to her eyes.

“I know you won’t hurt me. You love me too much.”