After having lunch with my father—during which he harasses me endlessly about the woman I’m interested in, and I tell him virtually nothing, because I’m still not certain this won’t crash and burn, the memory of Elisa constricting my throat more than once—I rethink the idea of sending Carolyn a filthy text. The weekend was hotter than I ever could have dreamed. If she was anyone else pre-Elisa, I might not care, but with Carolyn, it matters.

It might be a good idea to think about turning the heat down a bit, as much as my cock disagrees.

We exchange a few flirty texts on Monday—nothing too heavy, and she seems a little distracted—but on Tuesday evening, I run into her in the lobby.

Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is a little disheveled—nothing compared to how it looked after we got out of bed on Saturday—and she’s got a satisfied smile on her face.

A hard knot forms in my gut before I can stop it. Is she seeing someone else? It’s not like we’ve made any commitment to each other, but if some other man has had his hands on her, I’ll—

“Ace!” she says, catching sight of me. “I’m sorry I didn’t message you all day.” She comes quickly across the lobby, catching up with me at the elevators. “The boutique has been crazy.” Her eyes shine in the light, and she looks so beautiful, I can’t resist.

“Hi, gorgeous,” I say, and then—audience be damned—I put my hand behind her neck and pull her in for a kiss. It’s slow and hot and perfect, and it stops only when the arrival of the elevator car interrupts us.

“Whoa,” Carolyn breathes. “Did you miss me that much?”

My cock stirs. “More. Come have dinner with me.”

She hesitates for only an instant, her forehead wrinkling, but then the smile is back on her face. “Okay. But I’m not staying the night.” Her cheeks go a little pinker. “This is pathetic, but I’m…I’m pretty tired.”

I move my arm lower to wrap it around her shoulders, and we step into the elevator together. “What do you think I am, some kind of sex addict?”

“Maybe. I am pretty hot.”

I laugh out loud. After two full days of missing her, it feels great—this calm, peaceful feeling.

It would be a little more peaceful if my cock wasn’t already pulsing with need for her, but that will wait.

I order from one of my favorite Indian places, and while we wait for the food to arrive, Carolyn curls up on my sofa, her feet on the ottoman. She gasps a little when I emerge from the kitchen with two glasses of wine.

“A man after my own heart,” she says, taking one from me and sipping it. Her eyes go a little wider. “This is so good.”

My heart skips a beat at her words, then it recovers. It’s true. I am after her own heart. And more than anything, right now, I want to know more about her. Anything more. Everything more.

I sit in the silence with her for a few moments.

“What made you decide to open a boutique?”

Carolyn purses her lips, considering. “I was tired of my old job. I was pretty high up in a marketing firm here in the city, but it was wearing on me. The day-to-day.”

“And you love fashion?”

Carolyn’s mouth quirks into a smile. “I enjoy fashion. It’s not something that makes me go crazy with lust, though.”

I lean in and kiss the line of her jaw.

“That might make me go crazy with lust.”

“I’ll stop,” I say with a grin, pulling back.

She growls a little. “If I end up staying here, I’ll never get to work in the morning.”

I hold my free hand up. “Fine, fine. So…what do you do, then?”

I expect Carolyn to laugh and say something like “seduce men at the Swan, obviously,” but instead she blinks a few times, shrugging her shoulders. It takes longer than it should for her to answer.

“Oh,” she says with a little smile. “I really do run the boutique, most days. There’s a lot more to it than selling clothes. Travel, inventory selection…all of that.”

“You can’t tell me there’s nothing that captures your interest. There must be some sort of heart-and-soul type of thing.”

She looks away, toward the kitchen, then she turns her head so she’s looking back at me. “Not that I can think of.” Then she grins, eyes shining again, her expression full of playful wickedness. “Last weekend came pretty close.”

Goosebumps play along the line of my spine. Something isn’t quite right. Or am I looking for something to be…not right?

It hits me hard, straight in the gut. We’ve got to get there first. Carolyn isn’t going to open up to me—not totally—unless we turn down the heat a little, give things a chance to develop naturally. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to talk to me about the hobbies that take up her non-working hours.

Lately that hobby has been me, but there’s something else. Perhaps something she’s embarrassed about. I don’t know.

Our conversation is interrupted by the food’s arrival, and the heaviness lurking in the room clears. It’s delicious, and finally Carolyn leans back from the table in the breakfast nook. “I want to keep eating, but I can’t.”

“Next time I’ll order less,” I say with a laugh.

“Oh, don’t,” she says, genuinely on the verge of distress. “The leftovers…don’t deprive yourself of that. That’s the best part.”

“You’ve convinced me,” I say seriously, and she laughs again. I stand up and take her plate, but my hand is aching to take hers in mine and lead her to the bedroom. Still, I can see the dark circles under her eyes, the yawns she keeps stifling.

“Oh—Carolyn, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

She gets up and follows me toward the kitchen.

“What? That I can’t leave with all of my clothes intact?”

This woman. “No, I—” The words stick in my throat, but this lie will be better for us in the long run. “I won’t be able to see you this weekend. I’ve got some things to attend to.”

The corners of her mouth turn down, but only for a moment, and then she smiles. “Thank God. I’ll be able to sleep in!”

Then she reaches up and pulls my face toward hers, kisses me savagely, and heads for the door.