Chapter Eleven

For one precious evening, Amy almost forgot about Brittany’s wedding.

It was glorious.

She shopped on the way home from work Friday night, checking her lists twice. She went to the shops her mom had favored, and it was good to chat with the owners again. It felt good to be preparing to cook, and that she’d be hosting a party. Optimistic. Celebratory. Happy. She planned to have some things delivered Saturday morning and would invite some of her neighbors to the party when she saw them.

She was at the butcher shop, deciding if she’d forgotten anything, when the guy behind the counter fixed her with a look. “Aren’t you Mr. Thornton’s daughter?”

Amy blinked. He was maybe ten years younger than her and vaguely familiar. “I am. Were you one of his students?”

“One of his projects, more like,” the guy admitted with an easy smile. “He was a good teacher. I was sorry to hear he got sick.”

“Me, too.”

“I should have come to the hospital.” He gestured to her purchases and Amy shook her head, because she had everything she needed. He carried her choices to the cash and she sensed that he had more to say. “I came to the funeral, but you probably don’t remember.”

“Sorry, I don’t.” Amy had been too upset to be aware of everyone that day. She smiled. “A lot of people came. It was a nice tribute.”

“Well, he made a difference, you know. He was the first person who believed in me, the first one who challenged me to try.” The younger man shrugged. “I was hanging out with these guys. I thought they were cool, but your dad didn’t. He told me I was too smart to just go with the flow, that I should figure out what I wanted and chase that.”

“That’s what he did,” Amy said.

“Yeah. That’s what he said. That you have to have the conviction to go after your dreams, because that’s the only way they come true.” He smiled, then wiped his hand before offering it to her. “Name’s Jesse. I’m very sorry for your loss. I should have gone and told him that he’d helped me change.”

“I bet he knew,” Amy said, her tears rising.

“Maybe,” Jesse acknowledged. “You need anything, I’m here to help.”

“Thank you, Jesse.” Amy was touched by the reminder of her dad’s influence. Jesse’s words just made her more determined to return to the land of the living, to stop marking time and keep chasing her dreams.

She arrived home, laden with groceries and filled with plans. She put the eggs in the fridge then climbed the stairs to invite Lisa and Mrs. P. to the party before she started to cook. She fed Fitzwilliam, then changed her clothes and began on her prioritized list.

Lothair and Argenta would have to wait a few days.

Amy felt as if her mom was standing behind her, one hand on her shoulder, giving advice about when the dough was just right, when the filling had enough seasoning, when the sauce was thick enough.

She thought about Ty and couldn’t suppress a little shiver of anticipation. He’d be here at her house, in her kitchen, acting like they were a couple again. If he wasn’t so nice, she would have jumped his bones.

Doing so would undoubtedly shock him.

On the other hand, she did enjoy shaking up his assumptions a bit. Maybe she would jump his bones.

Amy thought about Matteo and what they’d done this week and felt a different kind of tingle. The danger certainly gave her an adrenaline rush.

Was he as bad as he tried to appear? Amy couldn’t believe it. He’d touched her so gently. So reverently. He’d just had bad luck, she was sure of it.

Maybe he just needed someone to believe in him, the way that her dad had believed in Jesse.

Maybe he needed the love of the right woman.

Maybe that was thinking too far ahead, but by the time the lasagna noodles were hanging to dry and the ravioli had been filled, Amy knew what she had to do. She washed her hands and got her phone. She hesitated for a moment because it was late. She glanced at the night sky beyond the window, then took a deep breath and called Matteo.

* * *

Ty was sorting out his files for the trip to Japan, ensuring that he had the phone numbers and emails for all of his contacts programmed into his phone, and double-checking his reservations when the burner phone rang.

At first, he wasn’t sure what the sound was. It chirped, a completely different ring tone from his own phone. By the third ring, he realized what it was and dove into the kitchen to snatch it up before Amy abandoned the call.

She’d called Matteo.

At midnight.

“Hello, Angel,” he purred into the phone, even as he wondered what was going on.

“You knew it was me,” she said and didn’t sound entirely surprised.

“I told you. I got this phone for you.”

“How many phones do you have?” she asked with a welcome suspicion.

“I cannot share all of my secrets, Angel. Is there a reason you are calling?”

“There is.”

He heard her take a deep breath, as if to steady herself.

“Talk dirty to me, Matteo.”

Ty blinked even as a jolt slid through him.

“Tell me what you’d like to do to me, in complete detail,” she continued, her voice strengthening with conviction. “Every naughty little bit. I want to hear it all.”

Every naughty little bit.

Shit.

Ty hurried across his apartment to dig out the books he’d put aside. He reminded himself that Amy was doing research, but this didn’t feel like any research he’d ever done.

“Matteo? Are you there?”

“I am deciding, Angel, how naughty you wish me to be.”

“Very naughty,” she said, her tone husky with need. “I want wicked and I want outrageous, and I want it now.”

Ty flipped open a book, scanning the text in desperation. “Tell me what you are wearing first, Angel,” he said, to stall for time.

“A T-shirt and jeans.”

Ty considered this. “Naked, Angel,” he said, letting his voice turn harsh. “I want you naked, now.”

“Yes, Matteo.”

“I want you in your bed, blindfolded, naked, and waiting for me.”

“Oh, yes, Matteo.”

Ty took advantage of the few moments required for her to follow his instruction to locate a sexy scene in one of the books he’d picked up. He’d thought at the time that taking the woman captive and using her as a sex slave had been a bit over the top, but if they were exploring forbidden fantasies, this looked like a good candidate for the dirty talk Amy wanted.

“Imagine that you are waiting for me,” he said, making his voice low and silky. “Imagine that you have left the door unlocked and prepared for me, following my instructions perfectly.”

“Ohhhh, yes,” Amy said, exhaling the words in a way that got Ty right where he lived.

Maybe Matteo didn’t have to die just yet.

Maybe he’d survive this phone call, just to see how far Amy wanted to go with this.

Wherever she wanted to go with it, Ty had a feeling he’d be right there with her.

* * *

Amy was done.

She surveyed her kitchen with satisfaction. She’d worked all day, but it had been joyous work. Her back ached a bit, but her counter was covered and her fridge was full. Everything was ready, and it had come out brilliantly.

Because she’d had her mom’s notes.

It was only eight on Saturday night, but she was going to crash so that she’d be fresh and ready the next morning. She was heading for the shower when her phone rang. She snatched it up, hoping it was Ty, then saw that it was Brittany.

“Hi, Brittany.” Amy winced when her cousin’s triumphant laughter echoed in her ear.

“I changed everything!” Brittany declared. “You said it couldn’t be done, but I fixed it all.”

Amy sat down hard, a cold knot in her stomach. “What exactly did you fix?”

“The menu, of course. I never wanted chicken…”

“But your mom did.”

“Who cares what she wants? I wanted roast beef and so does Nick, and so I went there today and changed everything to what I want. It’s my wedding, isn’t it?”

Amy rubbed her forehead. “And what are the vegetarians going to eat?”

“I don’t care.” Brittany paused. “They can have the salad, or the shrimp appetizer.”

“Vegetarians don’t eat shrimp,” Amy said wearily. “Neither will the guests requesting kosher meals or the ones with shellfish allergies.”

“Then they can eat the pecan pie.”

“That’ll work for the diabetics, too.” Amy knew her sarcasm was unkind but Brittany missed it.

“There are diabetics?”

“Twenty-eight diabetics, eight vegetarians, six vegans, two rawists, twenty-three lactose-intolerant guests, and forty-seven requesting gluten-free.” Brittany seemed to be startled to silence by this, so Amy continued. “Twenty-one shellfish allergies and thirty-seven nut allergies, the majority of which are listed as anaphylactic.”

“What does that mean?” Brittany demanded with suspicion.

“They can die. People with allergies that severe don’t even need to eat the substance in question.” Amy took a deep breath, not feeling particularly inclined to be nice to her cousin. “The catering manager and I planned a menu with no trace of any of those substances because I assumed you wouldn’t want anyone to get sick or die at your wedding.” She paused for a minute. “My mistake.”

“Oh. My. God.” Brittany whispered. “Well, you have to fix it!”

“No,” Amy said, bracing herself for the tears.

They came in a torrent.

Amy held the phone away from her ear when Brittany wailed.

“My wedding is going to be a disaster and it’s all your fault. You were supposed to be helping me, but now my dress doesn’t fit and someone’s going to die and the flowers are all wrong…”

“What happened to the flowers?”

“His mother changed her corsage, because it won’t match her dress and now it won’t match anything else…”

“The mother of the groom’s corsage doesn’t have to match the other flowers,” Amy said with more patience than she felt.

“Yes, it does! Of course, it does!” The tears began again. “I thought my wedding was going to be perfect but every bit of it is going to shit. I should never have trusted you!”

Amy finally snapped.

“And I should never have expected you to delegate the arrangements and leave them alone,” she replied.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That even a big wedding like this shouldn’t have been this much work. That I shouldn’t have spent so much time on the phone or on my way to New Jersey or negotiating between you all over trivial details.”

“Trivial!”

“Trivial,” Amy repeated. “They do say that no good deed goes unpunished, and I guess that’s true. I did this because you’re my cousin and I wanted to be helpful, but I’m done. Fix it yourself.”

“I can’t fix it myself! Amy, you have to help me.”

“See, that’s just it. I don’t have to help you and if you don’t ask me nicely, I won’t.”

“Bitch!” Brittany screamed and ended the call.

Amy knew her cousin well enough to anticipate that she’d call back within five minutes and try to change Amy’s mind. She turned off her voice mail, knowing she had to call someone.

If she called Ty and told him what had happened, he’d be proud of her. The problem was that she was pretty sure she would ultimately cave in and fix the arrangements. Even though she was frustrated with Brittany, she liked to finish what she’d started. Ty probably wouldn’t like that.

Better if he didn’t know at all.

No, what she needed was a treat.

An indulgence.

Something sinful and naughty.

A forbidden pleasure.

The choice was obvious.

Amy dialed and spoke as soon as he answered.

“Talk dirty to me again, Matteo,” she whispered. “Tell me the sexiest thing you’ve ever done with a woman.”

“Such a naughty angel,” he purred and she shivered with delight. “I will tell you the harshest punishment I ever gave a woman, and how she loved it.”

“Yes, please,” Amy said.

It was research, plain and simple.

But when Matteo murmured to her in his deep gravelly voice, Amy’s reaction didn’t feel plain or simple at all.

* * *

Talk dirty to me.

Amy was driving Ty crazy.

He’d thought the first call was bad. This one had gone right off the rails to uncharted territory. He was wound up, and aroused, ready to get in his car and go to Amy’s house to do all things they’d just talked about.

Because she loved it.

Or at least the idea of it.

Ty paced his apartment, replaying her words in his thoughts.

Because Amy had talked dirty to him this time. Really dirty. And it thrilled him, even though she thought he was another guy. Who was actually him. The whole game was fucking with his mind and his assumptions, yet it was addictive all the same.

He wanted to call her back and go another round.

Worse, what he wanted to do to Amy was even naughtier.

He wanted to make her fantasies come true.

He wanted her to know it was him doing as much.

But if he told her the truth, she might break off the fake date or even stop speaking to him. It was a mess.

A beautiful, exciting mess.

He doubted that begging for mercy would make one bit of difference if he confessed the truth. She’d never forgive him if she knew what he’d done, and he couldn’t imagine being without her in his life.

Ty was never going to sleep.

He decided to go down and swim laps, but he took the burner phone with him, just in case.

* * *

Sunday dawned sunny and warm, as if Amy had ordered the perfect weather.

Or Ty had ensured it was right for her party.

She accused him of that when he arrived and liked how he laughed. “I don’t have that much influence,” he said. “Now, what can I do?”

He’d arrived first, of course, dressed more casually than Amy had ever seen him before. He wore jeans that fit in all the right places and had brought the wine. He got her dad’s collection of wicker furniture out of the garage for her and hung the lanterns on the clothesline before Paige and Derek arrived.

By then, he was doing it again.

He touched Amy casually, keeping up the show for Derek and Paige. It seemed he was always behind her, always dropping his hand to her waist, always brushing his fingertips across her cheek or tucking her against his side. Worse, he kissed her on the temple and the cheek, stirring her emotions and making her flustered, then watched her intently.

With that delicious little smile tugging his lips and revealing his dimple.

He was driving Amy crazy. Two long, hot calls with Matteo had left her itching for satisfaction, and Ty wasn’t helping with his light caresses. She wanted sex more than she’d wanted it before in her life, and thought she’d scream if she had to hang on any longer. The tease was monumental—and the day had barely begun.

Amy was sure that if he kept this up, she wouldn’t manage to take a complete breath all day. Ty made such a good show of adoring her that even she was halfway convinced. She blushed more than she thought humanly possible. Derek and Paige clearly loved the display, and Amy supposed that her reaction only added to their conviction that she and Ty were deeply in love.

Paige stepped up to help Amy as the guys got Derek’s ladder from his truck, fastening down the tablecloth and admiring all the food.

“No paper plates?” she asked.

“My mom always said guests should get real dishes,” Amy replied with a smile, and began to carry her mom’s party collection out to the one long table.

Ty spotted Derek on the ladder when he went up to check the roof, and Amy showed Paige the main floor of the house before the other guests arrived.

Paige was smitten with the fireplace in the living room. They shared ideas of how the house could be renovated, and Paige did have some great ideas. The two women exchanged numbers and email addresses, Paige clearly assuming that Amy and Ty would be together for the duration. She also gave her the number for Lauren’s shop, pointing out that if Amy ever wanted a cut or color, Lauren was the best.

By then, Derek was sitting with his laptop in the corner of the kitchen. He compiled his estimate, then showed it to Amy on the laptop screen.

“I’ll email it to you, too,” he said. “A little higher than I thought, but you need some point work done on the chimneys. We’ll put caps on them while we’re there, and new flashing, of course.” He indicated a separate line item. “That’s for new gutters. I think you’re due, and it’s a lot easier to do them the same time as the roof. I know a coppersmith who can probably fix the cap of your turret, too, rather than needing to replace it. I made a guess on that cost here.”

Amy stared as her heart soared. Even with the extras, it was lower than the old estimate in her kitchen drawer. She wanted to hug somebody.

It could also be put on the new line of credit that Red had set up for her and wouldn’t even take it all.

“That must include a big discount,” she said and Derek grinned.

“Like I said, family price.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “A little better, actually, in exchange for having my sign on your front lawn for a couple of weeks.” He watched her closely, so obviously wanting the work that Amy smiled.

“Deal,” she said, offering her hand. “When can you do it?”

“Fourth of July weekend? We’re taking Monday and Tuesday off, but a couple of the guys are always ready for some overtime. Even with a smaller crew, we can get it done in four days if the weather is good.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I’ll check the long distance forecast and confirm with you closer to the date.”

“Wonderful. Thank you.” Amy realized that Ty had been watching her the whole time so she smiled at him across the kitchen. And thank you, she mouthed, though Paige noticed. Amy saw the smile she exchanged with Derek.

“Hello!” someone called from the backyard and Amy hurried to greet her guests. A new roof just six weeks away.

That was something to celebrate!

* * *

It was a great day.

Ty couldn’t remember a party he’d enjoyed more. The food was awesome and plentiful. Amy hadn’t been kidding about her cooking abilities. There were two kinds of lasagna, plus handmade ravioli, a soup made from scratch, several salads—one leafy and one with legumes—and delicious garlic bread. There was tiramisu for dessert and zabaglione and fresh fruit and cookies that the kids couldn’t resist.

Amy had really knocked it out of the park. She was glowing in the praise from her guests and Ty enjoyed watching her.

The weather was perfect, with no chance of rain. The wine flowed as well as the conversation, and it was a successful party by any accounting. He met the guy next door and his mother, Amy’s tenants, and a number of her old high school friends. The affection between them all was clear, and Ty understood why this house was such a home for Amy. He realized that she did have an excellent support network, even without her dad’s family, and was glad.

In fact, her family was notably absent and he was glad about that, too.

Amy looked wonderful, her hair in a swinging ponytail and her eyes sparkling with laughter. She wore jeans that hugged the sweet curve of her hips and Ty wanted to touch her more than he’d wanted to do anything in a long time. He was haunted by her phone calls to Matteo, and that night at F5. He couldn’t stay away from her and was sure Paige noticed.

With glee.

No doubt his mom would be getting a report, but Ty didn’t care. He was already sold.

They eventually put the food away then sat in the yard under the lanterns swinging on the clothesline, drinking wine, and ignoring the growing chill in the air. The neighbors drifted home as the sky darkened. Ethan fell asleep in his carrier but Derek and Paige lingered, chatting, when Ty just wanted Amy to himself.

When Lisa and Mrs. P. retired, Amy kissed them and thanked them for coming.

Ty sat back, sipped his wine, and let his admiration show. Amy noticed, of course. She’d been as aware of him all day as he’d been of her. Her gaze flicked to him frequently and her cheeks often burned pink, as if she knew his thoughts were more naughty than nice.

But she kept smiling and kept looking.

And he kept touching and looking, wanting to do more than that.

He was starting to think that his sister would never leave.

“It was awesome, Amy,” Paige said. “Ty never mentioned that you’re such a great cook.”

“He didn’t know,” Amy admitted, mischief in her eyes. “He keeps taking me out.”

“That might change,” Ty threatened and she laughed.

Their gazes met over the table, still littered with plates and napkins and crumbs, and that electric awareness crackled between them.

Ty smiled slowly.

Amy blushed slowly.

“Good thing you have F5 to keep you trim,” Derek teased and Amy’s gaze snapped to him.

“F5?” she echoed with alarm. “Isn’t that the fitness club downtown?”

She was concerned, and Ty knew why. He straightened, preparing for damage control.

Too bad Derek and Paige hadn’t left already.

“Ty’s one of the fabled five,” Derek said, saluting Ty with his glass.

Amy looked alarmed.

“Silent partner,” he said to her. “Only three of us actually work at the club.” He kept his tone casual. “I just go there to work out.”

“Oh.” Amy sat back.

He shrugged. “I’m the numbers guy.”

“Oh,” she said again, her relief more obvious.

But not complete.

“Keeping secrets from Amy, Ty?” Paige teased.

“We’re working through each other’s secrets,” he said evenly, then claimed Amy’s hand. “It’s the thrill of discovery.”

She blushed right on cue, and he could have guessed the direction of her thoughts.

“Soon enough, there won’t be any secrets left,” Paige teased. “Get ready for my brother to get you under his microscope, Amy, if he hasn’t already. He’ll have you analyzed and all figured out before you know it.”

“Maybe I’ll beat him to it,” Amy said and Ty chuckled. Their gazes locked again and the evening didn’t seem so chilly after all.

Paige reached for the wine and Ty cleared his throat.

“That’s a hint, sweetheart,” Derek said cheerfully.

“About the ninth one,” Ty muttered and Derek laughed.

“Only nine?” he said. “I counted at least twenty.”

“We can help clean up,” Paige said, reaching for plates.

“I’ve got it,” Ty said firmly. “Take Ethan home to bed.”

“Me, too,” Derek said and Paige laughed.

“I hope you like it when he gets bossy,” she said to Amy. “He does it all the time with us.”

Amy smiled at Ty. “I love it,” she said and heat surged through him. Their gazes clung again and this time, his sister seemed to notice.

“Oh, yeah, we really do need to go,” she said to Derek.

Ty refrained from noting that it was about time. He followed them to the truck, holding fast to Amy’s hand. They stood together in the driveway and waved as the pair left. “I thought they’d never leave,” Ty muttered.

Amy giggled. “Funny how I picked that up.”

“Funny,” he echoed, then turned to face her. He could have drowned in those sparkling eyes. He put one finger beneath her chin and bent to brush his lips across hers. He’d meant it to be a quick little kiss, just a taste to sustain him, but Amy sighed and leaned against him. She seemed to be inviting his touch, and Ty couldn’t resist the temptation. He slanted his mouth across hers in a sweet potent kiss that was all too short.

Because Amy stepped back.

“The dishes,” she whispered.

“The dishes,” Ty agreed easily, more than content to let the tension build between them.

In fact, he’d give it some help.

* * *

It might have been Amy’s imagination, but she and Ty seemed to clean off the outside table with record speed. He gathered all the trash and sorted the recycling after she’d taken the plates and glasses back into the kitchen. She stacked dishes by the sink as she stole glances of Ty working in the yard.

That kiss had been wonderful.

Was it possible that it hadn’t all been for show?

Paige and Derek proved to be good company and good fun, and Amy did enjoy the way Ty and his sister teased each other. Ethan was adorable and enough of a mischievous child to steal anyone’s heart away. She felt the beginning of a family’s embrace closing around her, and she liked it very much.

She liked Ty even more.

Even though he was part-owner of F5. It seemed strange that she didn’t know that already, but on the other hand, when would they have talked about it? They really were just getting to know each other. Could he know about her taking that class? Or meeting with Matteo? Did he know Matteo? He was completely at ease, which would seem to be unlikely if he did know.

His kiss had left her yearning for more.

For him.

Ty locked the door behind himself when he came into the kitchen, as if he meant to stay. Amy’s heart fluttered that he was so open about his hopes. Then he picked up a dishtowel and came to her side.

“No dishwasher,” she said, her hands in the suds.

“No problem,” he said easily and began to dry glasses. He lined them up on the cleaned counter as they were finished, and the neat rows made her smile. Her kitchen felt smaller and warmer with Ty in it, and even more intimate when he opened cupboard doors and began to put things away. He brushed past her so often that it couldn’t be an accident. He touched her shoulder and her back, and when she felt him draw one of those circles, she knew their thoughts were as one.

She had a feeling he’d wait for her encouragement, for as long as it took.

She was in control.

Why was she hesitating? A fake date with benefits wasn’t any more serious—or binding. Ha.—than a fake date without them. They could enjoy each other without pledging to be together forever.

Ty wanted her.

She wanted him.

Why was she making it complicated?

Amy couldn’t think of a single reason.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Ty said when she was drying her hands.

“I thought you were just making it look good today but now I wonder.”

He granted her a glance that spoke volumes. His eyes were intensely green and his gaze was hot. “I don’t like to do anything just for appearances,” he murmured and Amy’s knees weakened. “Sooner or later, I’ll convince you that the whole Giselle thing was out of character.”

“And the fake date plan?”

“An excuse, in hindsight.” Ty mused, in a low voice that started earthquakes inside Amy. He smiled that slow smile and her mouth went dry. “What exactly is making you wonder?”

The wine made Amy bolder than she would have been otherwise, and she dared to say it out loud. “You didn’t have to kiss me in the driveway.”

Ty nodded. “Oh yes, I did.” He chucked the dish towel on the counter and closed the space between them with a single step. Amy thrilled at his resolve and liked even better when he trapped her between his hips and the counter. “Just like I have to do it again right now.” He considered her, then lifted off her glasses and set them aside. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever,” he murmured.

Things were a bit blurry, but Amy could see that dimple.

And she could feel his interest.

Ty cupped her face in his hand, tipped up her chin and kissed her sweetly.

Sweet was good, but she wanted more.

“I think we should make a deal,” she said when he’d lifted his head.

“Anything you want.”

“Don’t you think you should know before you agree?”

He kissed the side of her neck, then her ear. “Nope. I trust you completely.”

“It might be naughty.”

“A guy can hope.”

Amy smiled, then she pulled back to look into his eyes. “I want to be honest with you.”

“Okay.”

“Completely honest.”

“Okay.”

“I want a hot kiss, a long wicked possessive one, after the nice ones.”

Ty smiled slowly. “You’re on,” he murmured, then slid his hands into her hair. He framed her face and lifted her a little, crushing her against the counter. He bent his head and caught her mouth under hers.

Amy’s heart thundered. She slid her hands up Ty’s chest, over his shoulders and around his neck. This time, she pushed her fingers into his hair and opened her mouth to him, arching against him and demanding more. Ty made a little growl—a very satisfying sound—then locked his arms around her and deepened his kiss. It was the hottest and most passionate kiss they’d ever shared and Amy wanted only more.

Ty broke their kiss and ran a hand over her cheek, pushing back her hair before claiming her lips again. Amy felt treasured and precious, also confident that she could call a halt with a single word or touch. Ty would stand back and walk away, leaving the choice up to her, and she loved that.

When he lifted his head, his eyes were blazing. When he whispered her name, his voice was husky and uneven.

This was her chance.

“I like this honesty,” he whispered.

“I have more.”

“Go for it,” he invited, his eyes shining.

“I want you, Tyler McKay,” Amy said with heat and liked how he caught his breath. “I want all of you and I want you now.”

His eyes blazed. “Does your fireplace work?” he asked.

Amy blinked. “Absolutely. There’s wood in the living room…”

“Don’t move,” he instructed and left her there. She could hear him setting the fire and smiled at the thought that he was using his scout skills.

“We could just use the bedroom,” she called.

She heard him strike a match and the wood begin to crackle. She saw his silhouette as he strode into the kitchen, then blinked when he flicked off the light.

“Live dangerously with me tonight and try something different,” he said. Amy laughed but Ty didn’t give her a chance to argue. He kissed her again and swept her into his arms. He headed for the living room with a purpose that made Amy’s heart race in anticipation.

* * *

For the first time in a long, long time, Ty felt some concern about sex.

He wanted Amy. She wanted him. He had condoms and everything should have been perfect. But he couldn’t help thinking that he had to ensure he gave her as much pleasure as Matteo had. No, he had to give her more. He had to be better than his alter-ego, and that was just weird.

Not only was it bizarre to be competing with his own past performance, but Ty already knew many things that Amy liked. He hoped like hell he didn’t reveal his own disguise and ruin everything. He hoped he could pull it off as lucky guesses or intuitive understanding or something like that.

He would tell her the truth.

Just not right now.

The prospect of making love to her was too sweet to sacrifice.

Later, he’d confess and beg her forgiveness. He had to believe that this was an opportunity to gain some goodwill.

Beyond that, Ty couldn’t think much at all.

The firelight made Amy skin look more golden than usual, an exotic beauty waiting for him. He lowered her before the fire and kissed her again, then removed the fastener from her hair. Her hair fell around her face and to her shoulders, soft and gleaming. “I had this idea,” he said, coaxing her to her back. She kissed him, so soft and inviting that he nearly lost the train of his thoughts.

“An idea?” she echoed, kissing his ear. She grazed his ear lobe with her teeth and he caught his breath, then did it again when she laughed and her breath fanned his skin.

“An idea.” He slid a hand down her length, then under her shirt. He spread his fingers wide and inched his hand higher.

“Only one?”

“It’s a good one, I think. Simple.”

Amy smiled at him, then crossed her arms in front of herself and peeled her shirt over her head, casting it aside. Ty stared at the way the dark lace of her bra contrasted with her creamy skin.

“Navy,” he murmured, wishing he’d imagined that she wore navy lace lingerie as well as sensible separates in that color.

“You don’t like blue?”

“I like it better all the time.”

Amy smiled and rolled toward the fire, displaying the clasp on the bra to him. Ty wasn’t one to decline such an invitation. He unfastened it, then smoothed the elastic over her shoulders, taking the chance to run his hand up her back to her nape. Her hair tangled around his fingers like silk, and Amy rolled to her back again, flicking the bra aside. He bent and kissed one nipple with reverence, and then the other. Her breast filled his hand perfectly, and he liked the idea that they might have been made for each other. She sighed beneath his caress and stretched out beside him, and he remembered his idea.

He caught her wrists in one hand and guided them to the leg of the sofa. “Don’t let go,” he instructed her. Amy’s eyes danced with anticipation. He unfastened her jeans and stripped them off, then slid his hands beneath her panties to discard them as well.

“You could tie me here,” she said playfully, but Ty shook his head.

“Too complicated. I’m going to show you the appeal of simple.”

“Simple,” she repeated. “Well, I can’t see much without my glasses.”

“Close your eyes. That way, you won’t be able to see anything.”

She looked as if she might argue, but changed her mind and did as he’d instructed. Ty ran his hand over her, admiring her beauty. He eased his fingers between her thighs, discovered that she was as excited as he was, and moved to be between her knees.

“What are you doing?” she asked, tension in her voice.

“Something simple to make sure you’re pleased,” he said, then eased her thighs wide apart. When Ty closed his mouth over her, Amy gasped.

And then she surrendered to him, uttering only one small delicious moan in capitulation.

* * *

Amy came, after it seemed like Ty tormented her for a thousand years. He didn’t stop, though, but kept teasing her with his tongue and teeth, ensuring that her orgasm lasted so long that she was breathless. Her heart was hammering when he moved to tear off his jeans, and she saw the tension in his movements.

“Good idea,” she whispered.

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice a little rough, and Amy obeyed. She realized he was getting something from his jeans and smiled as she guessed why. He returned to her side with a couple of foil packages and opened one, eyeing her as he smoothed on the condom. No wonder he looked so good in his suits. Even without her glasses and even with him still wearing his T-shirt, she could see that he was toned and fit. He’d need to be part owner of a gym to spend that much time there.

Or rich.

She felt a combination of excitement and a little trepidation when he stretched out beside her again and she felt the size of him against her thigh. The fire crackled on her other side and she felt warm.

“It’s been a while,” she whispered.

“Me, too,” Ty admitted, trailing his fingers over her. Amy felt tingles run over her flesh and stretched beneath his caress. “A bit of a dry spell.”

“I like that we have that in common.”

“Me, too. But I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“I don’t think you could,” she confessed and earned a thorough kiss for that. “But you had condoms. Does that mean expectations?”

“Preparations in a spirit of optimism,” Ty admitted, kissing her again before she could laugh aloud. The weight of his hand was on her hip and her waist, then rising to her breast, brushing over the nipple, and sliding up her throat. He kissed her ear, stroking her all the while.

“Sit on me,” he invited in a throaty whisper. “I want to see you.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “And you’ll be in charge, which I know you like.”

Amy didn’t need to be invited twice. She straddled Ty and he caught her waist in his hands. She watched him inhale sharply as she took him inside, and teased him a bit by withdrawing before she drew him deeper. He whispered her name and his grip tightened upon her, but he waited for her move. She saw his jaw clench. She saw his nostrils pinch. She felt his muscles go taut. But he let her set the pace, even though his eyes glittered when he looked up at her.

“Planning to kill me?” he whispered.

“Slowly,” Amy said, catching her own breath as she lowered herself to take him completely inside her for the first time. She leaned her forehead on his chest and he pushed his hand through her hair, drawing her close for a sweet hot kiss.

“I want nine lives,” he murmured against her cheek. “And I want to be finished off this way every single time.”

Amy laughed, then moved again, rocking her hips a bit. She liked how Ty caught his breath and how he gripped her tightly. She knew he wanted her, but she was in command.

They found a rhythm together easily, so easily that they might have made love a dozen times before. There was something right about their connection, and Amy welcomed that sense of coming home. The heat rose between them and Ty’s fingers dug more deeply into her waist with every stroke. He pulled her forward, so that she was rubbing against the strength of him and Amy shivered with delight. She caught his face in her hands and kissed him deeply as she rode him, his hands locked on her hips and increasing their pace. She closed her eyes and simply felt the power of his body and the pleasure of being with him, hearing her heart thunder and her breath race.

“Amy!” He locked one arm around her waist and rolled her partway beneath him, kissing her deeply. She could feel his heartbeat against her own and his heat filling her and knew there was nowhere else she wanted to be. He drove deep, then moved his hand between them. One strategic flick of his finger and Amy came again, crying out in her pleasure and digging her nails into his shoulders as Ty came and came and came.

Cuore mio. The words flitted into Amy’s thoughts with the resonance of truth. My heart. An endearment of the most powerful kind.

Could it be true?

Of course not. This was just a fake date with benefits. Amy knew that, but wondered all the same.