No, probably not wise.

Your heart skins. Of course you want to please your alluring date, but the priceless collection is not secured and she did arrive at your doorstep under false pretenses.

“I'm sorry, but the exhibit isn't ready.” Though painful, you turn down her request. “There are very strict security protocols for such a valuable collection.”

“I see.” Miss Kyle picks up a spoon and puts a bit of sugar in her tea and stirs it for a moment. Picking up the cup with both hands she moves the tea to her dark crimson lips. Looking you straight in the eyes over the brim she bluntly asks, “Is it you can't or that you won't?”

“As the President of the Trustees,” you carefully answer feeling like your dealing with a prowling tiger, “I probably could, but it would be inappropriate.”

“I see.” The raven haired witch takes a full drink and puts her cup down. “Do you play poker, Dr. Anderson?”

“Yes.” You answer having play numerous times with the guys back in college.

“Care to make a wager?”

“You really want to see those jewels.” You half joke.

“Not really.” Her voice is very serious, “I'm just not use to a man saying no to me.”

When you don't immediately reply, Kyle answers, “Five-card draw poker. The first one to get to $500 dollars wins the bet. If I win, you take me on a guided tour of the jewels.”

“And if I win?” You have to ask.

“I won't mention the matter again,” she then calmly adds, “and I will take the appropriate correction due for such forward and insolent behavior.”

“What do you mean?” You ask as your blood begins to pulse.

Her answer shocks you into silence, “A hard spanking I believe is the usual punishment for such brazen women.”

A rush of arousal, along with a bit of terror, floods through your body at her words. A fascination with spanking has been one of your dirty little secrets since puberty. No one, not even Jane who was repulsed by all things BDSM, knew about your fetish. A small bit of sweat beads up on your forehead as if you wonder if your date can read minds or has hacked your internet history.

“You're not serious?” Are the first words you get out.

“The game is only fun when the stakes are high.” She leans back in the chair letting go of the cup. “Still not enough of prize for you? Fine, then how about this, for every 100 dollars I lose I have to remove a piece of clothing.”

“So, Dr. Anderson, I'm willing to put my ass on the line, are you?”