Gwen slipped into a pair of sweatpants to go along with the oversized t-shirt she slept in. Part of her imagined walking downstairs with her bedhead and her sleepy eyes. What would Mr. Lovestruck think of that? The other part, the part that overwhelmed her, was the part that wanted to look good for him. He was, after all, absolutely gorgeous, and she wasn't oblivious to the tingles that ran through her entire body when he touched her.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and fixed her hair. It just didn't make sense to do more than that. She had no idea what his plans were for the day.

Clark sat on the sofa in the main living area, his ankle crossed over his knee, as he read the paper.

"Good morning," she said.

He smiled at her as he set the paper down. He wore a robe, gaping open at the chest. She'd had no way of knowing that under those suits was a massive, manly—

"Gwen?"

"Huh?"

Clark smiled. "You're staring."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Sorry."

But she couldn't look away.

"Come sit." He patted the spot next to him.

She pulled a throw pillow into her lap, and sat straight.

"You're uncomfortable."

"No, I'm ok."

"Don't lie to me, Gwen. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just… awkward."

Clark chuckled. "Are you hungry?"

"Very."

"Come on."

He took her hand and led her to the kitchen. She sat at the island while he made breakfast.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I haven't slept that well in months."

"That makes me very happy."

"So, what are the plans for today?"

"We're going shopping."

"For?"

"A dress."

"I didn't know that was your thing."

He shot her a look, and she grinned.

"The dress is for you."

"I don't need a dress."

"Do you have an evening gown?"

"No." She narrowed her eyes.

"Then you need a dress."

"For what?"

"Every summer, Krypton hosts several events. Next week is the gala for the Children's Hospital."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"Next week? We're not even dating, and you're taking me to a gala for your company?"

"I want you there with me."

"Clark—"

"It's not open for discussion." His voice turned cold. "The agreement is for you to spend time with me. This is a part of that. This is a part of my life I want you to be involved in to get to know me."

Gwen nodded. The shift in his tone was downright scary, and she couldn't find her voice.

He set a full plate of food before her, but she just stared at it, trying to push away the fear. She really didn't know this man, and she'd let herself get comfortable so quickly.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded.

"Shit. No, you're not. I was too harsh"

She shook her head.

"Yes, I was. Gwen…" he stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I let my work tone take over. I've been by myself for so long, I forget that not everyone is my employee, or someone in negotiation." His breath brushed her ear. "I never want you to fear me. Not you." She nodded, and he sighed. "I know it will take time for you to believe me. That's ok." He kissed the top of her head. "Let's eat."

—

Clark sat outside the dressing room. Gwen looked through dresses, almost unwillingly, until she found one she liked. That seemed to tug at her interest, and soon she had several being held for her to try on.

"What about this one?"

Gwen stepped out in a long black dress with cutaways at the sides, a low neckline, and an open back.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not? I think it looks good."

Clark stood and slipped his hand into the cutout, trailing his fingers over her skin. Gwen gasped, and he leaned toward her.

"That's why. Other men won't be able to keep their eyes off of you, and I won't be able to keep my hands off."

"Ok," she said. "Next one."

"Next one."

She tried on several more dresses before stepping out in a red sequin gown. Clark smiled as she turned for him.

"Gorgeous." He got up and examined it closer. "Off the shoulder." He placed a soft kiss there from behind. "I like it."

"Clark…"

"I know. I told you I like to toy with the line."

She smiled at him. "You're bad."

"Only in the ways that make it fun."

She sucked in a breath, then cleared her throat.

"I couldn't find a price tag," she said.

"Good. Is this the dress?"

"Yes, but not if it's expensive."

"Sweetheart, price doesn't matter. Do you like it?"

"Clark, I'll never wear this again."

"I don't care."

"Clark—"

He put a finger to her lips. "As much as I love hearing you say my name, stop arguing with me, and let me buy you a dress."

"But the money—"

"If you keep talking I'll kiss you to shut you up."

Gwen pulled her lower lip between her teeth, and Clark groaned. He pulled her lip loose with his thumb.

"Don't do that, either. You're killing me today."

She smiled and lowered her eyes to the floor.

"Is this the dress, Gwen?"

"Yes. This is the one."

"Good."

—

On the ride back home, Clark raised the dark partition and took her hand.

"I really am sorry about this morning."

"I've never heard that tone in your voice. Even with your associates at the restaurant."

"It's my hardball voice, cultivated over years of people trying to push me around. I promise it will never be directed at you again."

"Clark, what happens if you tell me to do something and I really don't want to?"

"I wouldn't."

"But you did. You told me I have to go to this gala."

"It's just a gala."

"You're still making me go."

He shook his head. "I didn't… I didn't think of it that way."

"You told me you're used to getting your way. If this is going to work, at all, that can't be the norm. You have to consider my feelings about events like this."

"It's just a party."

"For your company. With people who work for you."

"Right."

"People you do business with?"

"Sure."

"The press?"

He closed his eyes. Of course. "Yes, there will be press outside for the arrivals."

"And here I am, mystery woman, on the arm of Clark Kent. Do you see where that puts me?"

"I almost hate to use this as an argument to get you to go, but… did you know that I have a date for that event every year?"

She shook her head.

"No," he said. "Do you know why?"

"No."

"Because it's always a one-time thing. I never bring the same woman, and I never see her again."

"So, you're saying the press is used to seeing you with a different woman at every event."

"And they don't bat an eye over it. They expect it. Now, if you go with me to this, and then I bring you to another event…"

"They'll notice."

"Absolutely."

"So, what, you'll bring a new girl to the next one?"

"No. I don't want another woman. I'll go alone if you decide not to go."

"You'll give me that choice?"

"Yes. I should have done that this time. I'm sorry." He brushed his lips over the back of her hand. "Will you attend the gala with me next week?"

"Well. You know I do have this brand new dress."

Clark smiled. "You're wonderful."

She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and lowered her eyes.

"Another thing about this morning," he said. "You seemed distracted."

"It was just the way you spoke to me."

"No, no. Before that. On the sofa."

Her cheeks flushed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." He lifted her face to look at him. "Are you attracted to me, Gwen?"

"I don't think that matters."

"Oh, I think it does. And I think you are. What was it that caught your attention this morning?"

"Clark, I don't think I want to discuss this."

Her eyes flicked down to his chest as she turned her head away.

His robe had opened at the chest while he sat. That had to be it. He did a mental backflip in celebration. Attraction was a necessary first step.

"Maybe you're right," he said. "More fun when I figure it out myself."

Gwen smiled and shook her head. "What's next on the agenda today?"

"Do you swim?"