Somehow when Devon says I'm stuck with him, I don't think he means just for the day. The way he looks at me is new, like he just saw me. It sends a shiver running under my skin that's not entirely unpleasant.

I think of the moment we shared last night, the way he felt against me. I was ready to follow him to his hotel even though I knew it would have been about something completely different than the reasons I hired Raven in the first place.

Last night would have been about releasing tension, one night based on raw lust that I couldn't deny once Devon's lips met mine.

That's not what I'm looking for though. I want the fairy tale; husband, kids, home...love.

I'm not sure the man I met last night is capable of that. I would have said he didn't know what it even meant-- until just now when he holds out his hand for me and smiles this sort of crooked smile that softens the hard edges of his firm jaw, giving him an almost boyish quality that's hard to be mad at.

Raven's word are like a drum beat in my head, "the right choice" the right choice for me, repeating over and over as I tentatively take his hand and let him lead me back to his car.

I hope she knows what the hell she's doing, because giving this man a chance at my heart feels like a very dangerous thing to do.

"Which way?" Devon asks as I buckle myself in beside him.

"Depends on where we're headed," I answer.

He glances over at me from behind the steering wheel and swings the car onto the on ramp, "Forward," he grins, "we're going forward."

Giddiness dances in my stomach at the potential behind his words, "In that case, keep going the same way you're headed now."

We're on the 1, headed north up the coast toward Santa Cruz. Devon looks to his left occasionally and never fails to look amazed at the ocean when it's in view.

"You act like you've never seen an ocean," I chide around the third time his head pivots.

"Seen more than one. Just never had a chance to drive up the coast like this, you know?"

His voice is soft, awed, like he forgot he was doing the bad boy act thing.

I like it.

I shift in the passenger seat so I can get a better look at him. The sunroof is open, letting in just enough wind to ruffle his dirty blonde hair. He's tall, so there's not much clearance between the top of his head and the roof of the car.

He's wearing aviator sunglasses that are tinted just enough that I can't see the blue that I remember his eyes being when I met him last night but I can see the faint hint of crows feet fanning out from the corners of his eyes when he smiles.

I don't remember him smiling at all last night.

He looks so different right now and I don't think it's just because it's day time. I think it's because his family isn't here.

The tension I'd assumed was just part of him is gone, his body is relaxed and his face is covered in a wide grin that makes him look playful.

I might be willing to play.

"So what's your deal, Steph? You don't strike me as the mail order bride sort, why Raven?"

As the highway veers inland for the next several miles, I watch him steer with his left hand on the wheel, his right hand resting casually on his denim encased thigh.

He has really nice hands.

For that matter, he has really nice thighs.

My eyes wander across his body, sprawled out in the driver's seat, commanding the space like a man who's used to being in charge.

I can't help but eye the fly of his jeans. Knowing what's hidden under that zipper, I get a little flustered as a wave of heat washes over me before I manage to answer his question.

"Not mail order bride," I scoff, "just an arranged match. I'm tired of go-nowhere relationships with men who don't want the same thing as I do."

"What's that?" His voice is all deep timber as he glances my way, "What do you want, Stephany?"

I want your hands on me again, my brain screams inside my head as the sultry note of his voice vibrates through me. I tell my brain to shut the fuck up. Half an hour ago I never wanted to see him again and now I'm squirming on the passenger seat of his rental car hoping I'm not leaving a wet spot on the leather.

"The same thing everyone else does," I tell him, "the happily ever after. It's the same thing people pay dating sites for all the time, advertising themselves in hopes of finding the right buyer. Raven just streamlines the process."

"That's a helluva lot to pay for streamlining."

The way he says it doesn't sound sarcastic.

"Not in the long run. I know people who are paying monthly fees to multiple dating sites for premium accounts. I have one friend who's been on about 4 sites since he turned 18. He's been paying for upgraded accounts for 8 years and he still hasn't found what he's looking for. In the long run, Raven comes out cheaper. Not to mention, saving time and heartache."

Devon shoots me a sideways glance and another one of those crooked grins that I'm starting to think I could get used to, "You sound like you know your numbers."

"Guilty. Marketing and accounting. I can't help but crunch numbers and find the best spin on things."

"Is that what you do for the company you work for?"

"Sorta," I settle back in my seat and stare out the windshield as the ocean starts coming back into view, "I'm young and I'm female. The job I interviewed for went to someone else, and the job I got hired to do isn't what I'm actually doing."

"You don't sound bitter at all," he teases, "Is it where you want to work?"

I turn to look at him again. He's busy watching the road, which I appreciate because I like being alive, but also because I like looking at him when he's not watching me do it.

"No," I say, "It's just the place that had an opening in my field in at a pay rate that could cover my bills. "

Do I remind him that I'm willing to relocate? Where does he live again? Illinois? Somewhere near Chicago? It wasn't on his file and I'd already stopped paying attention when his parents were talking about it last night.

Things are going well. Maybe bringing up something that reminds him of why we're here isn't the best idea.

"I'd like to work for a company that I believe in," I decide to tread lightly, "but I don't plan on giving up my career."

OK, maybe not too lightly.