Late that afternoon, Samira grabbed her potluck item, left her house and walked down the wooded portion of the riverwalk to the Halloween bonfire. The rustling leaves provided a nice shade from the sun, which apparently still didn’t realize it was the end of October. She was beginning to wonder if she should take off her jean jacket when a top-of-the-line Tesla in gleaming black with blackout windows passed with the smooth purr of a powerful engine.

Whoa. Nice car.

Without warning, the car reversed, zoomed back to her and stopped, the front passenger side window gliding down.

Honestly, she had to laugh. Journey’s End had always been a small town, but rarely had it been this small.

“If I turn my head and see Jean-Baptiste Mercier driving this Tesla,” she said without breaking stride, “I’m going to lose my freaking mind.”

“Pardonnez-moi, madame,” he said, his voice heavy with laughter as he rolled alongside her while keeping one eye on the rearview mirror, “but I’m a stranger here in your town and I wonder if you could help me? I’m on my way to the Halloween bonfire.”

“That depends.” She finally glanced his way to discover that he looked wickedly handsome in a baseball cap and aviator sunglasses. The sight of him, predictably, set off a swarm of butterflies in her belly. “Were you invited?”

“Yes. By a very intriguing woman.”

She felt a wild surge of relief. Funny how it was only now that she realized she’d been holding her breath since their argument this morning, waiting to see if he still planned to come. He’d said he would, but what men said and what they did were often two very different things.

“Intriguing women can be problematic,” she warned. “Maybe you should stick with mildly interesting women.”

“Ah, but think how bored I would be then.”

To disguise how much she liked his answer, she ran a loving hand along the car’s roof. “Nice car.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that. I would think that a woman who turns up her nose at luxury items and displays of wealth, such as yourself, wouldn’t notice a fine car like this one.”

“You French really are terrible listeners, aren’t you?”

He came to a complete stop, laughing. The sound enticed her enough to stop walking so she could brace her free hand on the door and lean in to speak to him through the window.

“I never turned my nose up at luxury items,” she continued. “I had an engagement ring from Tiffany, didn’t I?”

“Ah.” His expression went very still behind his sunglasses. “So it’s only my luxury items that trouble you.”

She thought that over. This really wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to get into by the side of the road, but what the hell?

“Putting the cart before the horse is what troubles me. I had a handsome fiancé, a beautiful engagement ring, an amazing dress and would have had the wedding of the year. All my friends were jealous because my life looked perfect. But I would have been married to the wrong man. That would have been a huge disaster.” She paused. “So if you and I are going to have any kind of a relationship—”

“You and I do have a relationship.”

“—then I don’t want to build it on quicksand.”

Another car drove by just then, tooting as it veered around them. Baptiste took off his sunglasses, tossed them onto the dashboard and looked at her with eyes that were, as usual, way too hot. Much too intense.

“Ride to the bonfire with me. Before we cause a traffic accident. You should have let me pick you up like I wanted.”

She glanced down the riverwalk, where she didn’t have far to go before she reached the park, then turned back to him and the tempting comfort of his car.

“We really shouldn’t arrive together,” she said, although her heart wasn’t in it. “People from work will be there. What would we tell them?”

“How about we tell them the outlandish tale that I ran into you by the side of the road and offered a ride?”

She hesitated.

He sighed loudly, leaning back against the headrest, scrunching his eyes closed and rubbing his hands across his face. When he emerged again, it was with a humorless laugh.

“God is very ironic. I never realized until now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Every woman I’ve ever been with has been thrilled to be seen with me. They like to pose at events and on red carpets with me. One enterprising woman even made an anonymous”—he made quotation marks with his fingers— “phone call so the paparazzi would catch us leaving a hotel together. Yet the one woman I want refuses to be seen with me, even in tiny Journey’s End, a town barely on anyone’s map.”

He shrugged helplessly, putting the car in gear.

“Perhaps this is that horrible karma everyone is always talking about, coming for me on behalf of those other women. I’ll see you at the bon—”

Something about the forlorn look on his face was absolutely intolerable to her. She would not be responsible for making him look like that. So when an irresistible impulse demanded that she open the door, slide inside, plunk herself down and put her food on the backseat, she went with it.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she said as she shut the door again, more to distract herself from the astonished delight spreading across his expression than anything else. “Americans hate self-pity. I told you.”

His laughter echoed inside the cocooned world of the car. He watched her, eyes glittering, as she buckled up, noting everything from her face down to the way the slit in her black maxi sundress slid away from her legs. When she got settled, he took her hand and pressed a lingering and fervent kiss to it as he pulled off.

She shivered and ran the backs of her fingers across his lush lips, her skin growing tighter and tighter with each passing second.

She couldn’t breathe.

By the time he turned into the park, pulled into a shady space on the outskirts of the lot and killed the engine, she was more than ready for him.

He unbuckled and reached for her across the console, taking her face in his hands.

She had time to unbuckle and whisper his name.

Then he was kissing her…kissing her…kissing her.

His lips were firm and insistent, more delicious and persuasive than she’d remembered. His skilled hands went to work, massaging her nape…smoothing over her cheeks… gliding up and down her neck. It really was miraculous the way those hands somehow managed to ignite every far corner of her body without ever traveling further south than her shoulders.

Samira went wild. That was the only reaction her body knew when he touched her. She got as close as she could, surging into him and gripping his forearms to make sure he never let her go.

As for any passing neighbors or coworkers?

She couldn’t care less in those overheated moments.

Her thoughts were limited to how much she wanted him back inside her and a vague feeling of gratitude for the black-out windows. Stopping was the very last thing on her mind.

She’d missed him too much.

Needed this too much.

In the end, he was the one who broke away and rested his forehead against hers, his chest heaving.

They caught their breath while he kept an anchoring hand on the back of her neck. His free hand slid beneath her jeans jacket and rested on her belly, a heavy and possessive presence that kept her right where she wanted to be.

“I think I deserve an award,” he said, his voice ragged.

She almost smiled at that. “Again? For what?”

His fingers found the slit in her dress…trailed lazily up and down her thigh…circled around to the inside edge of her panties…and stopped.

Stopped.

She squirmed, half crazed with lust.

“For keeping my hands to myself when I’m dying to make you come again. For remembering that we have some issues to address first.” His hand returned to her belly and stayed there. “You should thank me.”

She took a shuddering breath.

“I’m not feeling that grateful at the moment, to be honest.”

“I’m sorry about the money,” he said urgently. “I never meant to insult you. You know that.”

“I know,” she said, nodding.

His corded muscles loosened, some of his tension leaching away.

“I miss touching you like this.”

“I miss it, too.”

“You don’t know how much I wish I was inside you right now.”

“I have some idea.”

He sighed. Turned her loose to lean back against his seat again. Studied her, unsmiling, his gaze lingering on her hairline, where he smoothed the baby hair away from her forehead. Her eyes. Her mouth.

“Why do you look so sad?” she asked.

“I’m not sad,” he said quietly. “I’m very happy to be spending time with you. But it’s hard to hold myself in check.”

“This is you happy? If you get any happier, we’ll need a suicide watch.”

He grinned. Sobered again just as quickly.

“My head is very full of stern warnings and reminders.”

“Is that right? Don’t forget to get the Tesla washed later? That sort of thing?”

He laughed, then reverted to looking sadder than ever. “No. Don’t lose your head about a woman you just met. Keep your mouth shut. Don’t overwhelm Samira. Don’t think about what Daniel said. That sort of thing.”

Everything inside her went very still and listened on high alert as she frowned at him.

“Well, that’s a lot of mysteries in a few sentences. Where should I start?”

“Nowhere. I’m keeping my mouth shut so I don’t overwhelm you.”

“Overwhelm me with what?” she asked lightly.

His lips twisted into a crooked smile. “You will not trick me with your clever questioning.”

“No?” Pouting, she shifted around to face him and put a hand on his abs, enjoying the way his muscles leapt in response. His breath stuttered as she leaned in, tipping her face toward his. “What about bribery? Are you susceptible to bribery?”

“Very.”

Grinning, she eased even closer. He put a hand on her cheek, angling his mouth—

She deftly twisted around, grabbed her food container from the backseat and thrust it at him. “Here you go.”

“I was promised sex!” he cried, outraged.

“This is even better,” she said, opening the lid.

“Doubtful,” he grumbled. “You shouldn’t tease a man like—oh, what are those?”

“These are Rice Krispie treats with M and Ms in them,” she said triumphantly. “All the little kids go nuts for these whenever we have a potluck. Adults, too. Try one.”

He’d already helped himself to the fattest square he could find and took an eager bite.

She watched as his eyes rolled closed while he chewed, his face slackening into ecstasy.

“You like?”

“I cannot speak,” he said.

The compliment shouldn’t thrill her this much—how much honor was there in creating a dessert treat that took five minutes and had a handful of ingredients, after all? —but she grinned idiotically anyway. Until he reached for another one, forcing her to slam the lid on his fingertips.

“Hey!” he yelped.

“They’re for children.”

“And I take childish delight in eating them.”

“Well, I suppose,” she said, sighing dramatically as she opened the lid again. “Just this one time.”

“Thank you, ma reine,” he said, kissing her again.

“Don’t thank me. They’re a bribe, remember? Now you need to tell me what you were talking about a minute ago.”

“Can’t I finish my treats?”

“No!”

She’d also brought tiny paper plates, so she found one and held it out for him. He sourly but dutifully put his treats down and took a deep breath.

“I want to talk to you,” he said. “About the articles you read about me.”

“It’s okay,” she said quickly, not wanting to open the topic for discussion, curious though she was. There was too much potential for her to lapse into some sort of involuntary and inappropriate display of jealousy or possessiveness, and she couldn’t have that. “It doesn’t matter to me anyway, and you don’t owe me any explanations—”

He stared her down with those green eyes of his, an uncompromising look of such reproach that she felt utterly ridiculous, as though she’d denied being alive.

“Are you a liar, Samira?” he asked quietly.

She flinched. “What? No.”

“Then why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not—”

“Do you want me to go first? Would that make you feel better? Fine. I will confess that the sight of you holding hands at the office with your former fiancé hours after you climbed out of my bed made me want to smash something. Jealousy is not an emotion I’m familiar with. I don’t like it. But I felt it.”

He stared at her, waiting.

Samira fumed in silence for a moment, telling herself to keep her big fat mouth shut and not give this man the keys to the kingdom on Day 3.

“I don’t just spill my feelings like that,” she snapped. “We’re getting to know each other. You never promised me exclusivity, or anything like that. So it’s really none of my business.”

His lips curled into something dangerously close to a sneer. “And to think you just lectured me about not wanting to build a relationship on quicksand.”

She grimaced, silently cursing both her faulty poker face for landing her in this mess and him for putting her so squarely on the spot.

Fuming, she thought back to her relationship with Terrance. All the times she should have spoken up and been honest about her feelings and had instead swallowed them whole and ignored the resulting stomachache.

“You want complete honesty?” she asked. “Fine. If that’s the type you go for, what do you want with me? And how soon until you go back to your little European playground and your topless Caucasian beauties?”

“Ah.” A glimmer of amusement lit his eyes. “I suspected that was all in there.”

Now that he’d unleashed her biggest inner demon—everyone she cared about left her eventually; the only question was the timing—this was no time for jokes.

“Don’t dodge the question.”

“I have no intention of dodging,” he said levelly. “That’s why I wanted to bring this up and get it out of the way. Have there been women? Yes. A lot of women? Yes. I’m a grown man. I enjoy women. I lost my head a little when my uncle died. I partied and had a good time. I don’t apologize.”

“Lovely,” she said, eyeballing her escape route. She had to fight the wild urge to dump the treats in his lap, climb out and slam the door in his face. “Good talk. Thanks for sharing.”

“But this is the thing: I do promise you exclusivity while we’re together. Look at me.” He put a hand on her arm to keep her where she was, his voice and expression gentling. She reluctantly faced him again, trying not to wear her entire heart on her face. “You have more in common with a hedgehog than you do with any of those women. That’s why I’m here with you. Not them.”

She examined his face for signs of insincerity and found none. Not that she was ready to give herself permission to get her hopes up.

“That’s why you’re with me? A hedgehog fetish?”

He burst into startled laughter. She laughed too, at least until he pulled her in again, raining kisses all over her face and mouth. Greedy for the feel of him, she ran her fingers up his arms and into his hair, catching handfuls of his silky curls. The sound of their harsh breath and her tiny mewls of pleasure filled the car. When he released her this time, her hot blood urged her not to let him go. She leaned into him, chasing his mouth, but he denied her by putting his lips to her ear.

“I have a fetish for you,” he said. “Only you.”

She nodded, glad he couldn’t see her face at the moment. Her burning cheeks probably glowed like a stoplight at night.

He sat back. Ran rough hands over his face, clearly trying to regain some measure of control.

She had to laugh. “This luxury car doesn’t provide cold showers, does it?”

“Eh,” he said, grinning. “That was an optional upgrade on this rental. I didn’t think I would need it.”

More laughter on both sides until he sobered and eyed her closely.

“So, we’ve settled several things between us, correct? Let’s make sure we both agree so I can get my soul food. Daniel and Sean acted like we were riding in the Tour de France today. I’m very fangry.”

“Hangry.”

“First,” he said, ignoring this interruption with dignity, “You understand about my past with women. You’re jealous, of course, but you’ve moved past it.”

“What?”

She punched him once in his rock-hard biceps and was going in for another when he caught her fist. Kissed it.

“Second,” he continued, his smile fading away to a searching look that was mesmerizing in its intensity. Absolutely hypnotic. “We’ve agreed to exclusivity while we work on this relationship. Haven’t we?”

Much as she didn’t want to deny him anything when he looked at her like that, her self-protective instincts simply would not sit down and shut up.

“Baptiste…”

“Don’t think. Don’t talk yourself out of it. Here. Close your eyes.”

In cases like this, where fear wrapped around her torso like a hungry boa constrictor, bravado and distraction were always the best options.

“I’m not closing my eyes, so you can forget it.”

“Do you think your bluster is going to keep me away?” he asked quietly. “Close them.”

She sighed, trying to regulate her too-fast breathing. Leaned back against her seat. Closed her eyes.

He was immediately right there again, lips to her ear with one hand on her neck and the other on her belly. It was simultaneously soothing and wildly arousing, especially when the one hand slid up to cover her thumping heart.

“Answer from here,” he said, tapping a finger against her chest. “We’re together now. And we’re exclusive. Aren’t we?”

The answer came quickly and easily when she sat quietly like this, as though it was a part of her body and had always been inside her somewhere, waiting for the right moment to come out.

“Yes.”

Beside her, his breath hitched. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he said, pressing a sweetly lingering kiss to her lips.

She opened her eyes again.

He was right there, all bright green eyes and simmering excitement.

“Daniel told me something today,” he said slowly. “He is often a fool, so my tendency is not to listen. But in this one particular case, he may be right.”

“And what did he tell you?” she said, laughing.

“Well, first he told me not to overwhelm you when we’ve only just met. Clearly bad advice.”

“Clearly.”

Baptiste hesitated. Took a very long time to speak, muscles working in his throat as he gathered his words.

“He said that…sometimes you just know.”

Samira debated whether to ask the follow-up question. The potential for hurt was too great, and his answer, she realized to her growing dismay, mattered far too much for a woman determined to keep her feelings on lockdown.

In the end? Her curiosity never gave her a choice.

“Know what?” she asked quietly.

He stared her in the face, unsmiling now.

“You need to start thinking about how you’d feel if I fell for you a little bit.” A vivid flush crept over his cheeks. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it?”

She gasped and looked for signs of insincerity. But there was nothing other than his gaze, which was direct and surprisingly vulnerable.

“That depends,” she said after a beat or two.

“On?”

“How often that happens to you.”

“It’s never happened to me before now, ma reine.”

There was only one smart thing to do when a man you’d only known for a few days (incidentally the sexiest and most intriguing man in the world) professed to be falling for you: you dismissed it.

Maybe you shot him down outright (you don’t expect me to believe that, do you?), or maybe you joked it away (right, because there’s such a shortage of available women in France to fall in love with).

Either way, the only intelligent strategy was to deflect. Disbelieve.

Yet she couldn’t dismiss his words or the answering ache in her chest. The moment meant far too much to her, and his big heart sat right there on his face for her to see.

It lit his eyes when he looked at her.

It stopped her breath.

Maybe he couldn’t really fall for her so quickly. But he sure believed he had.

“It’s too soon to talk about anything like that,” she said.

“Ah.” His pause was long and deliberate, punctuated by a wry smile. “So I can feel it deep inside. But I must not speak about it. Understood.”

“Baptiste…”

“Out of curiosity, when is it acceptable to discuss?”

She thought that over.

“After one of us has the flu and the other one has to be the nurse. After I eat the last brownie in the house when you thought it was yours, and you want to hit me. When we have our first big fight without calling each other names or saying things we can’t take back.”

“You’re very wise. But what if I feel as though I know the most important things about you already?”

God. When would this man stop making her head spin?

“People don’t fall for each other after just a couple of days,” she said firmly.

“Ordinarily not,” he agreed easily.

Her heart sank. Just a little.

“But which part of the two of us together has been ordinary?”

Samira couldn’t answer.

Luckily, he took pity on her.

“So,” he said crisply. “Now that we’ve agreed to a committed—”

“I never said committed!” she cried in mock outrage.

“—and monogamous relationship,” he said, pressing two fingers to her lips to prevent any further protests, “are you ready for our next chapter together?”

“No,” she said on a shaky laugh as she batted his hand away. “I’m scared to death. And you should be, too. Especially since you’re about to meet my parents.”

His grin threatened to blind her.

“I’ve never been more excited in my life. I can’t wait for more adventures with you. Let’s go.”

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