Wrong Carter.

And in these diner booths, nowhere to hide. She couldn’t even sink down on the seat without everyone in the place seeing her do it, and labeling her a crazy woman. She’d cased the place the day before. One way in—one way out. Trapped. Might as well enjoy the view.

There was no denying it; he was a devastatingly good-looking man. Nine months ago, he’d stolen her breath with one look across a room, and now her body’s reaction to him was no less potent. Last time, the thought that he may belong to another hadn’t even registered in her drink-addled brain. But this time she had no such excuse. She knew he was taken. And by whom.

She rubbed the back of her neck. Scrunched up her eyes to avoid looking at him.

Ah, hell. He hadn’t seen her yet. She snuck a long look. He was tall, easily topping six feet. Tiptoe tall—when she’d been in bare feet. His coffee-brown hair was longer now, curling at his nape, and falling almost over one eye—pirate style. He stood laughing with the girl behind the counter, and the deep dimples Ally remembered licking in a moment of desire-fuelled madness cut deep grooves in his cheeks.

Last night he’d been formally dressed in a suit and tie.

Today he wore jeans and a navy Henley that clung to his chest, defining his muscle tone. He hadn’t gained an ounce of fat since she’d seen him naked—if anything, he’d become more muscular, more toned. More man.

She sighed, and looked down at the table.

Rule two of honeytrapping: Never honeytrap anyone you know.

What the hell would she do? She could hardly continue with her mission now. Honeytrapping was based on the premise of accidental meetings. To find out how a man or woman might react when faced with the temptation of a total stranger. She would have to call Crystal and arrange another operative to take her place. She should have made that call this morning, but the question of just exactly how to break the news had made her hold back. She could hardly explain she couldn’t honeytrap Jace because she’d screwed his brains out in the past, could she?

Because the first thing her boss would ask was why she hadn’t revealed that fact the moment she heard his name. And admitting that she hadn’t known his name—that he hadn’t known hers—made both of them look sex-crazed and promiscuous. Which they were, but that was their business. Being professional meant not sharing about your sex life at work.

And if he’d been married back then, that made Ally exactly the sort of woman everyone in the office despised. The sort of woman who slept with a man without finding anything out about him.

If he’d had a wife back home while they cavorted in a rented hotel room in Portland, he failed Crystal’s test before she even met him.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

She looked up. Jace stood before her, indicating the empty seat opposite.

“No.”

He slid into the seat. “Good.” He looked freshly showered, with no trace of scruff on his jaw and his hair slightly damp. Just as she’d suspected, the navy top matched the color of his eyes as if it had been selected for him by an overpaid stylist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so surprising?” He leaned his elbows on the table and stared into her eyes. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Is it suddenly hot in here? Ally swept her fingertips around the neckline of her T-shirt. She pushed her coffee cup away. “I don’t think we do.” She caught the waitress’s eye and signaled for the check.

“What’s your hurry?” His mouth curved in the smile that caught her eye the first time she’d seen him. The Big Bad Wolf smile. “You’re on holiday, right?”

“Right. But I still have things to do. You know.”

“I don’t know.”

Mary arrived at the table with the check on a small plate and placed it before Ally.

“Are you sure you don’t want something, Jace? The coffee’s good.” She winked.

“No thanks, Mary.”

Ally slipped notes onto the plate, grabbed her bag, and picked up her jacket. “Don’t let me stop you.”

* * *

She gave every indication of being desperate to get away—behavior that would have set any suspicious man’s internal radar shrieking. But this time she wasn’t escaping.

He tamped down the urge to take her elbow as they walked from the diner, and instead followed at a distance, not wanting to exacerbate the tension sparking in the air between them.

She looked different today. Hotter. Tight jeans. Goth T-shirt. Red lipstick. He tried not to check out her ass, but it was darned near impossible to resist.

Her hair bounced when she swung around. “Are you following me everywhere?”

“No, we’re going somewhere to talk.”

It was difficult not to be distracted by the challenge flashing in her eyes. She stopped on the sidewalk, hands on hips, chin tilted up as their gazes locked. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

What the hell is her problem? He’d given her no reason to behave as she was—as though he was dirt under her shoe she was determined to wipe off at her earliest convenience. Jace breathed deep. Honey, not vinegar. “I need to talk to you.” He stepped close, close enough to see the little flecks of gold that accentuated the green in her eyes. Close enough to breathe in the scent of her that he’d never forgotten, even after all these months.

She looked away. “We’ve talked about everything we needed to. Your son is home…” She shrugged. “We don’t have anything else to talk about.”

He took her elbow. “Five minutes. In my car.” He jerked his head to the car nearby.

“I’m in a relationship.”

The way she said it: defensive and dismissive, as though he was chasing her and his attention was unwanted, made him bristle. “I’m not trying to date you.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“Or screw you either, for that matter.” Although now the thought was in his mind, he couldn’t help but imagine stroking his hands over her soft skin, tasting her mouth to see if that magical night they shared had been a one-off—or if he was looking back with rose-tinted goggles at remembered perfection.

Her gaze dipped to his mouth. Heat blazed through him, for she was feeling it too. Thinking the same thoughts he was, feeling the same pull.

Her teeth gritted. “Five minutes.”

He took her elbow and walked her to his car. Opened the door for her, then walked around the car to the driver’s seat.

Once safe from prying eyes, he turned to her. “You’re not in a relationship.” God knows how he knew, but the look she flashed him revealed the truth.

“No. I’m not.”

“So why lie?”

“I don’t want to get involved with you.” She crossed her arms. “You and I had our fun, and it was a long time ago. I don’t have any plan to repeat my mistakes.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He reached over and touched her cheek.

She couldn’t hide her reaction. The way she leaned into his touch, the darkening of her eyes told a different story than the words she’d spoken.

“That night was special. We may not have known each other’s names, but don’t tell me it didn’t mean anything.”

“We didn’t know anything about each other.” She jerked her head away. “I didn’t know, or even suspect, that you belonged to another woman. A woman you had a child with. If I’d known that, I never would have gone to your hotel room. How old was Rory then—sixteen?”

Ah. “No. He was fifteen, he just turned seventeen a month ago.” He reached for her hand. “If you’d allowed me to share information that night, I would have told you that I was a father. A single parent. Rory’s mother walked out soon after he was born, leaving me to bring him up when I was only a teenager.”

Her mouth gaped a little. On her, it looked cute.

“I don’t regret one minute of being his father. It’s been hard—but my mother helped me, looking after him while I went to college so I could provide for him. But believe me, being a dad affects dating potential.”

She frowned. Shot him a that’s bullshit look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been a saint, I won’t believe you. Did you and Rory’s mother marry?” Her hands clenched into fists.

“Yes—I was married for six whole weeks.” He sounded bitter. He wasn’t. He was relieved. Being with someone who doesn’t love you is shit on a stick.

Ally was single—now was the time to tell her he was in a relationship that might be getting serious. But somehow, the words wouldn’t come.

“When Rory was a kid, even taking a woman out for coffee was damn near impossible.”

“And getting laid even more impossible, I’m guessing.”

He nodded. “Rory went to stay with some school friends during the holidays the year we met. I was flying solo for the first time in years.”

“So you weren’t cheating on his mother.”

“Never did. Never would. That’s not the sort of guy I am.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. Shot him one of those knowing glances again.

Then she relaxed and nodded. “In that case, I’m sorry. I misjudged you. When I found out Rory was your son, I jumped to a conclusion that I didn’t like. It must be easier now though, now he’s growing up?”

“As if.” He laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in the sound. “You saw for yourself last night the problems involved with parenting a teenager. Although that’s the first time he’s done anything like that.” He frowned. “I think that girl is leading him astray.”

“She seemed responsible. Sophia cared enough to stay with him.”

“It was pretty apparent when I spoke to Rory this morning that whatever her name is, it isn’t Sophia. She gave you a false name.”

“What does Rory say?”

“He clammed up.” Frustration made him spear his hands through his hair. “I’ve just put him on a bus for a camping trip that had been arranged weeks ago. He’ll be gone for a week, during which time I intend to find out all I can about this girl so I can make my own mind up about whether she’s right for my son or not. I need a more than a name, I need every single bit of information you can give me about this mystery girl.”

“Ally.” Jace touched her hand, forcing her to look at him. “What does she look like?”

* * *

Everything had changed since last night. Last night, Ally planned on spending time with Sophia, making sure she was okay and urging her to find a way out of a home situation that was frankly unsafe. She’d been ready to keep her secret. But that option had disappeared along with the girl in the darkness of night, and now, with Rory gone, the only choice was to confide in Jace. Perhaps together they could help this girl in danger.

She wished he’d stop touching her, because the feel of his hand on hers and the intense focus of his stare in the close confines of the car wiped everything from her mind but the thought of leaning close, and kissing him.

She shifted her hand away, wishing she could remove the burn of attraction as quickly. This morning, she’d been filled with anger and disappointment that her fantasy night had been tainted by betrayal. Now that Jace revealed the truth, her traitorous body acted as though all barriers to a rerun had been stripped away, and was raring for action. Responding to his proximity, primed by the pheromones he exuded as easily as breathing.

“Rory is protecting her.”

Crystal. Remember Crystal.

She stared out the windshield. “I lied to you last night—Sophia was hiding in the back of my car when we dropped Rory at your house.”

“What?”

“Sophia asked me to keep her presence a secret.”

“And you agreed?” The anger in his voice forced her to look at him. “What possible reason could you have for covering for a teenager? Her family must’ve been worried sick.”

“I don’t think they would have reacted the same way you did.” She damned well knew Sophia’s father wouldn’t. Those scars on the girl’s back told an eloquent story. “The girl was terrified; every instinct must have been screaming at her to run. But her focus was on making sure Rory got home safely.”

“So you facilitated her deception.”

“I planned on leaving you and talking to her. Finding out more. Taking her somewhere safe.”

“And?”

Ally ran a hand through her hair. “She was gone when I got back to the car.”

“I can’t believe this.” Jace’s jaw gritted. “You let a drunk teenager wander off, when you should have…”

“Don’t tell me what I should have done. I made a judgment call. I believed her when she said her father would be furious to learn she’d snuck out to meet your son—I wanted to protect her from his anger.”

“Fathers have a right to be angry when their kids act like idiots.”

“Fathers don’t have the right to beat them for it, though, do they?”

Jace grabbed her arm, turned her to him. “She told you her father would hit her? And you didn’t think that was important enough to share with me? With someone who could actually do something about it?” His eyes blazed; he seemed to be holding onto his temper by a thread.

She could give him a description. The bright colors dyed into Sophia’s hair would be surely enough to identify her. But still the promise she made to Sophia—the need to deal with this matter carefully, and not make life worse for the teen kept her from sharing what she knew.

Jace’s cell rang. With a curse, he checked the screen. “It’s Rory. I have to take this.”

“I’ll go.”

“No. Wait.” He answered the call. “Hold on a second,” he barked into the phone.

“I have to go. Give me your number, I’ll call you later.”

He rattled off his number, and she tapped it into her cell.

Then she climbed out before he could object further, and dashed for her car.