Foreman smirked, keeping his eyes on the road with some difficulty. He kept wanting to slide his gaze over to Amber, take in her expression, the easy way she curled up in his car, as if she was queen of all she surveyed. Yeah, it suited him to do what Amber asked, because he'd rarely seen anyone react so much, and so gratifyingly, to having her way. The memory of her gasps and cries--the way she'd bitten him, Christ--made him lean back in his seat, his grin growing wider, feeling satisfied. For that, he could do a hell of a lot. "I think you like the fight," he said. Her eyes narrowed when she didn't get her way, and she paused just long enough to assess the situation before fighting back even harder. And if that was the way she wanted it, he could give her that too. It wasn't often anyone pushed him for something more. Something different. Maybe that was what had been missing with Wendy; they'd been too willing to settle, to let good enough be good enough. Amber wanted not only more, but different. Foreman wasn't sure he always liked that, but so far, the occasional twinge of discomfort made the whole experience stronger.

He followed her directions, heading downtown. "Dinner's on me," he said. "I won two hundred bucks off Chase today." He glanced over at her this time, wondering how she'd take the news, but since she'd rather he was honest with her than withhold anything about her job, he was going to make sure it was out in the open. It hadn't been that hard to figure out Chase and House's game after House convinced Brennan to stick with the job when he wanted to walk out. None of them were fired, and Foreman had doubled his money in the pool without breaking a sweat.