Paige was a busy woman. She had designs to produce, a store to stock, and an opening to plan. She definitely didn’t have time to sit around, lost in explicit daydreams about Declan and his miraculous mouth, but there she was, sitting in her favorite chaise—now placed right by the window, open to a cool breeze—with an embroidery needle in one hand, and her mind far from the intricate stitching in front of her.

Fifteen miles, give or take. The distance to Declan’s kitchen, where he’d done unspeakably delicious things to a bra just like this one.

She would never look at a bar of chocolate in the same way again.

Paige smiled and turned her attention back to her stitching. Although most of her business would be private commissions, she wanted some stock on display, so clients could see the different options for fabric and trim. So, she was rounding out her collection: making sure she had samples for every shape and size that might walk through her doors.

She finished up the little rosettes around the bust line and hung it carefully on a special satin padded hanger, then walked through to the storefront to add it to the slim brass rail that stood along the back wall. She looked around proudly at the sunlit space.

In just a couple of days, she’d transformed the empty room: placing a mannequin in the center of the slim window adorned with one of her favorite dusky rose lingerie sets. Aphrodite Designs curled over the glass in elegant gold script, and there was a heavy silk curtain in soft pink inviting people back into the studio space. There, Paige had set up the room in two halves: first, her workshop, with a long antique dining table to house her sewing machine, and a deep bookcase on one wall with rolls of fabric and cutting patterns. On the other side, a jewel-toned velvet couch welcomed clients—and their guests—to relax, with the bathroom serving as a changing room, and a raised dais placed in front of the full-length standing mirrors to assess and admire the fitting.

It was the space of her dreams, just as she’d pictured it the very first time Paige had stepped foot through that red front door.

Now all she needed were some customers.

Paige looked hopefully through the window at the busy street outside. She was technically open for business, as of that morning. Eliza and Mac were helping her plan an opening party later on, but Paige hadn’t been able to resist flipping that sign in the doorway to “open” ahead of schedule. Just to test the waters, she’d told herself.

Well, right then, the waters seemed awfully shallow.

Paige loitered by the Art Deco console she was using as a counter. She’d already sent emails to her entire client list and received a flurry of congratulations and promises to drop by the store, but clearly, nobody was doing it today. She should probably head back to work on another piece, or— 

Ding! 

The bell she’d placed above the doorway let out an inviting sound. Paige straightened, ready to welcome her first official customer—

“Oh,” she exhaled. “It’s you.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jenny laughed, stepping inside. She must have been on a break from work, wearing a black skirt and crisp shirt, every inch the restaurant hostess. “With a welcome like that, you sound like my mother.”

Paige laughed. “Sorry! Please, come in,” she urged her. “I’m just nervous, waiting for a real customer.”

“You’ll do great,” Jenny reassured her. “This place looks amazing. Like a French bon-bon. Or at least, an imported one. I’ve never been to Paris, so I wouldn’t know, but it definitely looks like all the amazing photos on Instagram that I drool over in the bathtub.”

Jenny wandered to the display rail and ran her fingertips over a delicate silk bra. “These are so pretty,” she said in a hushed tone. “I would want to just walk around almost naked, showing it off.”

Paige brightened. “How about you pick something? On me,” she added quickly, knowing that her price tags were on the high side.

“I couldn’t.” Jenny shook her head quickly. “You must put so much work into them!”

“Please,” Paige insisted. “Besides, it would be great advertising. You know, with you walking around topless and all.”

Jenny snorted with laughter. “OK, if you insist.”

“Here, you look like a C cup.” Paige ran her gaze over Jenny’s body, quickly assessing her. “Try these.” She pulled down a couple of different styles, in bolder, bright colors that seemed to match her personality. “And if you need any adjustments, just holler. I can customize in a flash.”

Jenny looked thrilled. “When I’m done, I’ll run across the street for ice cream,” she promised, selecting a couple more designs. “A chocolate sundae, my treat.”

Chocolate.

Paige had a sudden flash of Declan sucking molten syrup off this thumb.

“Paige?”

She snapped back to reality, to find Jenny looking at her curiously. “Oh, the dressing room is right in the back,” she said quickly, and she steered Jenny through, then grabbed a bottle of water from her mini-fridge and gulped, trying to cool off.

She needed to see him again.

Paige took a breath. He’d texted her a couple of times, but they hadn’t arranged another date just yet; he was busy at the restaurant, and to tell the truth, she was relieved. She’d been able to focus on getting the studio set up, directing all her restless, lustful energy into a whirlwind of activity. But now that she had a chance to pause for breath? Desire was tempting her again, filling her imagination with all those hot, breathless memories. She couldn’t get him out of her mind.

She wanted him, bad.

Ding!

The bell sounded in the other room, and Paige whirled around. “I’ll just be out front,” she called to Jenny, and then eagerly hurried through. “Welcome to Aphrodite,” she said, emerging into the storefront. “Oh, hi, Brooke.”

“Congratulations!” Brooke beamed, looking elegant as ever in a chic wrap dress, with her blonde hair caught up in a twist. “Eliza told me you just opened, and I had to stop by.”

“Please, take a look around,” Paige said. If her only customers were going to be friends of the family, then she would make them feel welcome. “I have a few samples up here, and then my design books, for individual commissions.”

Brooke moved closer, looking interested. “So, you can make something from scratch, totally one-of-a-kind?”

“Sure.” Paige showed her one of the sketchbooks she kept, filled with fabric swatches, ink drawings, and photos of the finished garments. She used to think the messy books were unprofessional, but it turned out that people loved seeing the inspiration behind the designs, so now she always kept them nearby for clients to browse. “Most of the time, it’s simple customization,” she explained, pointing out a couple of commissions. “Someone will want a certain style, but in a different color, or with scalloped lace instead of pleated silk. But sometimes it’s a whole project. Here . . .”

She flipped through the pages to show Brooke a collection she did last year. “This client wanted a special wedding trousseau. Her fiancé’s family were Italian, and actually imported the silks for it. I designed the lingerie sets to be one-of-a-kind, the negligees, even this robe,” she said, pointing out the flowing design, embroidered with gorgeous roses around the hem. “It took me months, but the set was so beautiful, I didn’t even mind. Those are the commissions I really love,” she confided, “where there’s no budget or limits, and it feels like I’m creating a work of art.”

“This is perfect,” Brooke breathed, slowly turning the pages. “You know I host weddings, over at the hotel? I’m always looking for new things to offer the wedding parties, and something like this would be a showstopper.”

The hotel. Paige flushed, remembering her midnight adventure in that pool. “What do you mean?” She cleared her throat, trying to focus. “You’d pass along my details to some of the brides?”

“More than that,” Brooke declared, “we could do trunk shows, at the hotel, where you present your designs, and I could even offer deluxe experiences, where the trousseau is all part of the package. They would come for fittings during the planning process, and then by the time the wedding rolls around, everything’s finished and waiting for them in the bridal suite to be unwrapped.”

Paige’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?” she asked. “That would be amazing!” Brooke’s hotel was one of the most in-demand wedding venues in the country right now, thanks to a Hollywood star’s event there last year. The fact that the actress had pulled a runaway bride at the last minute had only added to the column inches, and Paige had heard her old boss Lexi whining for months at the office that she couldn’t get a spot there.

“You’d be doing me the favor,” Brooke said, whipping out a day planner. “Everyone’s looking for the new bespoke service to get an edge. Apparently, personal perfume design is the new hot thing.”

Paige smiled. “Well, this is a lot less stinky,” she said. “Plus, I love doing wedding designs. Knowing I get to help set the stage for their first night together as a married couple . . .”

“You’re a romantic,” Brooke said with a grin.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Paige gestured around at the soft lighting and delicate fabrics.

“Good point.” Brooke laughed. “Well, how about we set a time for me to come by and discuss it properly? You can show me your collections, and we could figure out what works for timeframe and budgets . . .”

She was a details-oriented woman after Paige’s own heart. “I’d love to.” Paige pulled out an almost-identical planner, and they found a day later in the week that worked for the both of them.

“Just to warn you,” Brooke added, slipping her book back in her purse. “This could be a lot of business. The hotel is already booked two years ahead, and I can’t keep up with demand.”

“But that just makes it feel more exclusive, right?” Paige asked.

Brooke smiled. “Exactly. So let’s make sure they value all your time and talents.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Brooke headed for the door, then paused. “You know, it’s funny, but our security system has been acting up, over at the hotel.”

“It has?” Paige was confused.

“Mmmhmm.” Brooke gave her a grin. “All the security footage from Friday night mysteriously got wiped.” She winked. “I can’t think what happened.”

No!

Paige gasped, her cheeks flooding with color, but Brooke had already exited the store.

Her midnight swim!

She should have known there’d be cameras watching. And now Brooke knew exactly what she and Declan had been up to.

And?

Paige’s embarrassment faded a little. They hadn’t done more than kiss that night, however much she’d wanted to, and Brooke didn’t seem like the kind of person to get offended over one little kiss—however naked, and technically trespassing, it had been.

Besides, Paige didn’t want to be ashamed of how she felt. The desire burning low in her belly whenever she thought about Declan; the flutter of excitement that shivered even remembering his smile. She was enjoying this reckless feeling more than she had in forever, just anticipating when she’d see him again.

Because next time, she wouldn’t be stopping, or holding back at all.

Next time, she wanted everything.

---

Declan managed to make it through dinner service, just about, without setting anything on fire. He drove over to Sweetbriar Cove and met Cal for a drink at the pub, and even kept it together long enough to chat to his buddy, and Riley behind the bar, about nothing much in particular. But all the while, his thoughts were pulling him away, up the coast, to a woman with teasing blue eyes who tasted like heaven.

He deserved a damn medal for staying away from Paige for this long.

“Ten bucks.”

“No bet.”

“Come on, I say another five minutes.”

“Ten, maybe. If I give him another drink.”

Declan looked up from his beer. “What are you talking about?”

Cal smirked. “Oh, I’m just betting Riley here how long it takes you to call whoever it is that’s got you so distracted.”

“You’ve had one eye on your phone since the moment you walked in,” Riley agreed. “What’s her name? It’s not like a girl to keep you hanging.”

Declan coughed and shot Cal a sideways glance. He hadn’t exactly come clean yet about Paige, and he wasn’t sure the reaction he’d get.

What the hell.

“You know her,” he replied lightly. “Paige Bennett.”

Riley’s eyebrows shot up. Cal slowly turned his head. “Paige, who I specifically told you was off-limits?” he said.

“Paige, who is a grown woman and can date whoever she chooses,” Declan replied lightly, taking another gulp of beer.

“So that’s what you’re doing: dating?” Cal looked dubious. “Sure. Dinner and a movie, that’s exactly your scene.”

“Actually, I took her to play laser tag,” Declan replied, and Riley burst out laughing.

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“She’s pretty good,” he smiled, remembering. “Has an aggressive streak in there, you never see it coming.”

Riley looked amused, but a couple of people arrived down the bar, and he had to go serve them, leaving Declan and Cal alone.

“I thought we talked about this.” Cal didn’t look happy.

“No, you talked,” Declan corrected him. “Come on, I love you, man, but you don’t get to decide what I do when it comes to my personal life. It’s not a big deal, I promise,” he added, “Paige can look after herself.”

“Say that again when she’s crying on my couch with her sister after you go breaking her heart.”

“Nobody’s getting their heart broken,” Declan answered confidently. “We’re just having some fun.”

“I know your kind of fun,” Cal muttered darkly. “Someone winds up getting arrested or losing their savings on a blackjack game in Vegas.”

Declan laughed and slapped him on the back. “Still bitter about that? We won it all back the next night.”

“And then you went and spent half on strippers.”

“Exotic dancers, drinking after their shift,” Declan corrected him, grinning at the memory. “And you were right there beside me, buddy, don’t pretend like you weren’t.”

Cal gave a grudging smile. “It was a good time,” he admitted.

“And you seem to have made it through just fine. Older, wiser, a productive member of society—just like me.”

Cal laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far.” But he stopped scowling and let out a sigh. “I suppose what I say will make no difference?”

“Absolutely none at all,” Declan replied cheerfully.

“Then good luck to the both of you, I guess. And God help you if you hurt her in the end.”

“She doesn’t need you defending her honor.” Declan frowned, but Cal just snorted with laughter.

“I wasn’t talking about me. Eliza would destroy you.”

“Oh. True,” Declan chuckled. “Although, Paige is no pushover herself. You should have seen her with that laser gun.”

And later, spread on his kitchen counter . . .

Declan gulped the rest of his beer and slammed the empty glass down. “I think I’m going to head out.”

Cal checked his watch. “Seven minutes,” he called across the bar to Riley. “You owe me ten bucks!”

Declan texted Paige, but there was no reply. He could just picture her, stitching away in her studio, late into the night. He should have called, or waited for some response, but something propelled him on, into his truck and driving up the dark coast with the sea breeze doing nothing to cool his fever.

The miles disappeared in a blur of headlights, every marker urging him on. He’d long since given up trying to figure out why this woman had such a hold on him, he only knew he didn’t care anymore. To hell with keeping his distance and taking it slow. The way he wanted her was beyond reason now, and all it would take was one word, a glance from her, a murmured “yes,” and there would be nothing holding him back from showing her what pleasure truly meant.

Declan navigated the cobbled streets, empty now past midnight, and parked by the sidewalk outside her store. The storefront was dark, but he could hear faint music, a low, bluesy number coming from around the back, so he followed the sound down the narrow alleyway to the courtyard to see if—

Declan stopped, and he could have sworn his heart stopped dead too.

Because he could see Paige inside her studio, the French doors flung open, and light and music spilling out, illuminating her figure in the night.

And what a figure it was.

She was almost naked, dressed in just a whisper of cobalt blue silk that teased around her breasts, and a matching pair of panties that erupted with a cascade of tiny ribbons over each hip.

She was dancing, humming gently to the music as she moved around the room, arranging bolts of fabric, and placing garments on the rail.

Declan had never seen anything as sexy in his goddamn life.

She was a goddess, Aphrodite herself, and with every sway of her hips, he knew he’d never needed anything more.

He took another step closer, watching in a trance—and stepped straight into a flower pot. It fell, and the sound carried. Paige froze. “Hello?” she called, grabbing for a robe.

“Uh, hey.” Declan’s voice came out choked. He cleared his throat quickly, moving into the light so she could see. “It’s me, Declan. Sorry I startled you.”

Paige’s whole body exhaled in relief. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry. I tried calling, but . . .” Declan tried to un-scramble his thoughts, but up close, she was even more stunning: her hair tumbling out of her thick braid, and the robe still open, doing nothing to hide her incredible body. “I figured I’d see . . . I mean . . . Hi,” he finally managed.

“Hi,” Paige said softly, and she took a step towards him. “I was just thinking about you.”

Declan swallowed. “You were?”

She nodded slowly, and the smile playing on her lips was enough to make him weak. “I was thinking, I should show you my designs. Up close.”

He coughed. “Oh.”

Paige opened the robe, and in a single, tiny shrug, sent it falling to the floor. “What do you think?”

Dear God.

She was a miracle. Declan could barely remember how to breathe, as Paige stood there in front of him, her gaze fixed and provocative. A challenge.

“I stitch the embroidery by hand,” she continued, her hands slowly caressing the lacy details. “So everything fits perfectly.”

He watched, dumbstruck, as her fingertips glided over the curve of her breasts, and over her bare stomach, dancing over the wicked edging of her panties. Blood roared in his ears, and the whole damn world could have fallen to ashes, nothing would have made him look away from this marvel. Paige’s lips teased in a smile, like she knew the effect she was having on him, but even as her fingertips roamed further, almost bringing him to his knees, her cheeks blushed in that familiar pink flush.

There was something about that look that made Declan finally break free from his stupor, the hint of vulnerability that reminded him for all her bold flirtation, this was still Paige.

His Paige.

“I think I need to see it all.” Declan’s voice was rough. He took her hand and guided her to make a slow pivot for him, displaying every inch.

Christ.

When Paige turned to face him again, he slowly reached out, and traced the lace edging on her bra all the way over the swell of her breast.

She shivered, and he watched the reaction dance across her skin. God, he was drunk on her, drunk on the power, knowing he could make her breath catch and her pupils dilate.

Knowing he could make her moan.

“Take it off,” he whispered, and her flush deepened. But Paige didn’t flinch. She moved her hands behind her and found the clasp. Slowly, she peeled the bra down and dropped it to the floor.

Declan groaned. “And the rest,” he told her, backing away until he reached the couch. He sank down into the cushions, his gaze never leaving her.

He wanted to burn this sight into his eyeballs, brand it into his memory. Cast every second in gold, something to worship and revere for the rest of his life.

Paige bit her lip at his request, and then reached for the ribbons. She gave a tug, and just like that, her panties fell away too, and she was standing in front of him, completely naked.

Declan had died and gone to heaven. “Come here,” he ordered, reaching for her, but Paige took her time. She walked slow, putting a sashay in her step, like she could tell just what she was doing to him, and how he was burning up inside.

Finally, she was standing in front of him, close enough to touch.

Declan paused, feeling suddenly like he was on the edge of something here. Like he was the one about to take a leap. This wasn’t his usual Friday-night fling, a sweaty romp that would be done by morning. He wouldn’t be strolling out the door at sunrise, leaving with a kiss and a wink, back to the rest of his life.

He was ragged, panting, needing this woman so much he thought he’d explode. But where would it take them? How far would he fall with just one touch?

And then Paige reached for him, and all the questions in the world disappeared in a surge of red-hot, primal lust.

He pulled her against him, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. His hands were on her body, his mouth claimed hers for his own. Paige moaned against him, and damn, his last thread of self-control snapped. He yanked her into his lap, burying his mouth against her neck, her chest, the sweet swell of her body. Paige gasped and shivered in his arms, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to possess her completely, make her call out his name and forget any other man had ever so much as looked in her direction.

He rolled them, pinning her naked body beneath him in the plush velvet cushions. Paige arched up, moaning against him, and the sound ripped through his body like a tidal wave. His mouth found her stiff peaks, and his fingers slipped between her legs. Hot and slick and clenching, he urged her on, needing to take her over the edge before he lost his mind completely. She came gasping in a shudder, and God, Declan couldn’t hold back another moment. He stood, yanking his T-shirt over his head as he demanded, “Bedroom?”

“Upstairs,” Paige answered breathlessly. She was lying there, naked and wanton, and there was no way he was going to make it that far. Open doors be damned.

He shucked off his jeans and grabbed a condom from his wallet, then joined her on the couch again, cradling her close. Paige kissed him eagerly, her hands already sliding over him, every touch like wildfire, pure 100-proof in his veins. She tugged his briefs lower and closed her hand around him, and Declan bit off a ragged groan. “No?” Paige whispered, giving him a flirty look as she leaned in and licked his throat. Her fingers fluttered.

“God, yes,” Declan rasped. Had he ever felt this close to the edge before? So out of his goddamn mind with lust? He didn’t care, he didn’t care about anything except those teasing hands and her miracle of a mouth, sweet as summer strawberries as he kissed her hungrily, rushing to sheath himself before spreading her thighs wider and sinking deep into heaven for the very first time.

Paige let out a moan against him, arching up, moving to fit their bodies even more perfectly together. He moved in her, jaw clenched as he felt her warm, thick embrace, and then there were no more words, just heat and friction and the wild thunder of his heartbeat, and her voice urging him on, his name falling from her lips over and over, until she shattered and he could finally let go, exploding with a raw, ragged cry as he held on for dear life and lost himself in her all over again.

And somehow, Declan knew: he’d found home.