“It makes sense for me to drive you,” I insist.

“It makes sense for me to walk and avoid the hassle of getting the car from the garage.”

I narrow my eyes on her. “You really don’t want me at your apartment, do you?”

Her cheeks flush. “It’s barely furnished, Shane. It’s embarrassing.”

I step to her, my hands settling on her waist, hers on my chest. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.”

“Your world is not my world.”

“Considering you’re in my T-shirt, that’s debatable, but for now, you need clothes.” I release her and pick up my phone from the counter to punch the button for Tai. “A problem easily solved.”

“Solved how?” she asks, stepping to me, her hands urgently setting at my waist. “What are you doing, Shane?”

“Mr. Brandon,” Tai answers. “What can I do for you?”

“Morning, Tai,” I say, sliding my hand to her back and molding her close. “Emily needs a weekend wardrobe.”

“No!” she hisses softly. “No, I do not.”

“Running gear and casual attire,” I continue as if she hasn’t spoken.

“Of course,” he replies. “I can send some things up from our spa immediately. Her shoe size would be helpful.”

I eye Emily. “What size shoes?”

“Shane. No.”

I cover the phone. “Sweetheart. We’re doing this. What size?”

A conflicted look flickers over her face. “Seven.”

“Seven,” I repeat to Tai, “and she wants a flat iron and whatever you think she might need this weekend.”

“Give me a half an hour.”

“Perfect.” I end the call as Emily shoves away from me, holding up her hands stop-sign fashion.

“I’ll let you drive me to my apartment,” she declares. “I’m sorry. You were right. I’m a crazy person. Please. Call him back.”

“I’m not calling him back.”

“I have my own clothes.”

I gently shackle her wrist and close the distance between us. “And I prefer you naked. Actually, maybe I should call back and throw the rest of your clothes on top of the lights outside.”

“I’m serious, Shane,” she warns.

“So am I.” My cell phone rings again and I cup her face, kissing her hard and fast, and set her away from me to look at the caller ID. “I wish like hell I could drown this thing for the weekend,” I say, punching the answer button. “Why are you calling on a Saturday, Jessica?”

“‘Thank you for working Saturdays, Jessica. Your dedication is commendable, Jessica, and you come through even when your boss is being an asshole.’ There’s a penthouse apartment that’s releasing to the market this afternoon in the heart of Cherry Creek. It’s amazing, Shane, and it’ll be gone in a blink. You have to go look at it. It has everything. Shopping. Food. A doorman. A balcony to rival the one you have now. I’m trying to convince them to give you a preview showing today.”

“Today? That’s not happening. Set it up for Monday.”

“If I can convince him to do today, someone else can as well. It has to be today. I’m e-mailing you the photos I just took. The Realtor can see you in the next hour if you can be there. Call me after you look at it, but I think this is the one. Make the time, Shane.”

I grab my MacBook where it’s sitting on the island and open it. “If I like the photos I’ll go see it.”

“I wouldn’t be on the phone right now if I didn’t know you weren’t going to like the photos.”

Of course, she wouldn’t. This is Jessica. “I’ll let you know,” I say, ending the call and setting my phone next to my computer.

Emily offers me my cup of coffee. “I warmed it up,” she says, the tiny act of intimacy I’ve avoided with other women remarkably welcome with her.

I accept it, the touch of our hands electric in a way I’m truly not accustomed to beyond the moment before sex. “Thank you,” I say, the air thickening around us.

“Of course,” she murmurs, her teeth scraping her bottom lip. “Why are you arguing with Jessica?”

“Because that’s what we do,” I say, taking a drink before setting the cup down and pulling up my e-mail.

“She’s pretty fiery.”

“What she is,” I say, “is a pain in my ass who’s insisting I look at a property today.” I find the photos Jessica has sent, download them, and angle the computer so we can both see them. “What do you think?” I ask, tabbing through shots of a blue glass building and an apartment with enough windows to make this one look like it needs light.

“I freaking love it. We both know you want out of this hotel and the ties that bind you here. You have to go look at it.”

She’s right. I do and I want to take her with me, which I can’t fairly do without her understanding that we’re under my family’s scrutiny. I face her, and she responds by doing the same with me, both of us resting an arm on the counter. “Go with me to look at the apartment.” The doorbell rings and I grimace at the poorly timed interruption I should have anticipated. “That will be your clothes.” I’ve barely said the words when my cell starts ringing again and I grab it to glance at the screen. “And that would be my mother.”