The wine was a mistake.

It didn’t take any time at all for those first couple of sips to hit my bloodstream, making me both jittery and relaxed at the same time. If I was smart, I would stop drinking it, at least until I have some solid food in my stomach.

This knowledge doesn’t stop my hand from wrapping itself around the heavy bottle’s long, slender neck and pouring myself a second glass.

The microwave dings and Jeremy pops the door open, removing the two enormous potatoes he nuked for our dinner. Watching him place one on each of the plates causes something in me to warm and shift.

“I’ve never had a guy offer to make me dinner before,” I tell him as he uses a pair of tongs to toss the salad he threw together. “Nope, that’s not true. My dad used to make me macaroni and cheese whenever I got sick.”

Jeremy tongs some of the salad into two small bowls. “I wouldn’t get too excited. I’m not a great cook.”

“You seem to be doing just fine.” I sip my wine and swear I feel my bones starting to dissolve. “Why did you learn to cook? Or is it something all rich guys know how to do?”

“Since neither my father nor my brother can so much as boil water, that would be a no.” Jeremy opens up the small countertop grill and removes both steaks, adding them to our dinner plates. “I learned out of a desperate attempt to get some privacy. Being able to feed myself means I don’t have to eat out all the time. I can come home to my kitchen and enjoy some peace and quiet.”

He slides one of the plates in front of me and sits on the chair across from me.

The flavor of the tender meat on my tongue nearly makes me groan. Steak never tasted so good.

“If privacy and quiet is so important to you, how will you cope with having a child in your life? I’m not an expert on child rearing, but even I know that they don’t respect boundaries and that the only time they’re quiet is when they’re getting into trouble.”

Jeremy sips his wine. His gaze captures mine. “I know that the whole point of this dinner was to discuss our … potential arrangement, but could we table it for a little while? Maybe use this time to get to know one another.”

I can see his point. This meal is way too good to spoil with a discussion that will most likely end in bitterness and tears. I’ve thought of little else all day and I still don’t know what to do.

“Okay,” I agree.

Jeremy cuts his potato in half and covers it with a generous layer of sour cream. “What made you decide to become a florist?”

“I’ve always liked flowers. When I was sixteen, my 4-H club leader got me a job working part time at a flower shop. After leaving high school, I studied horticulture and design at community college. I managed to get a good job with a landscaper. Once I saved up enough money, I bought my shop.”

Jeremy cuts into his steak. “It looks like you’ve been successful.”

I take another sip of wine, letting the liquid sit on my tongue for a moment, savoring the exotic flavor before letting it slide down my throat.

“I’ve stayed on top of my bills and enjoyed a small profit.”

Sasha finishes the dry kibble Jeremy gave her and makes her way to the table. She winds her soft body around my legs and purrs loudly. “Why do you volunteer at an animal shelter?”

“I wanted to be a veterinarian.”

I gape at him. “Seriously?”

He nods. “Yep. When I graduated top of my high school class, my parents concocted this grand scheme. They figured I’d become a doctor, taking care of humans, and Evan would run Caldwell industries.”

“But you didn’t go to medical school?”

“I took pre-med and liked the classes, but couldn’t get excited about the idea of treating humans. But animals, I’ve always liked them. I had this big plan to start a low-income practice and treat all these animals for rock-bottom prices.”

“How’d your parents handle the career change?”

Jeremy grimaces. “Not well. My mom, she was disappointed, but my dad was livid. He spent weeks storming around the place, ranting and raving, threatening to disown me. He even looked into ways to block my schooling, but since I’d already come into my grandfather’s trust money, there wasn’t much he could do.”

I try to picture him working on an injured dog or cat, soothing the animal while explaining the situation to the owners. The image is surprisingly easy to conjure. “Why did you change your mind?”

All warmth fades from Jeremy’s expression. “My dad had a stroke, and wasn’t well enough to handle Caldwell Industries. That wasn’t a problem since Evan was already there, working as the company’s vice president. He simply moved into my dad’s office. Then, a year later, he had his accident. I’d just started my first internship, but I put that on hold and went into Caldwell. My plan was to take steps to have someone else run it and then finish up my internship and become a vet. But things didn’t work out like I’d hoped.”

My mind flashes to my current situation, to the tough choices we have to make. “Sometimes fate has a way of stepping in and screwing up the best laid plans.”

“That’s the truth.” Jeremy stands and picks up his own plate. He nods toward mine. “Finished?”

I look down, startled to find only the potato skin remaining on the plate. I was so engrossed in his story, I didn’t notice I’d demolished my dinner. “Looks that way.”

He picks up my plate and starts walking toward the sink.

“Hang on.” I jump to my feet and follow him. “You did all the cooking, it’s only fair that I should wash dishes.”

Jeremy shoots a look over his shoulder. Amusement dances in his eyes. “You’re a guest, so that means you don’t have to do anything but sit back, relax, and keep me company.”

My brow furrows. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“It doesn’t take much effort to load a dishwasher.” As if to prove his point, Jeremy pops the appliance door open and loads our plates inside. “But, if it makes you feel better, if you decide to take me up on my offer and become my wife, I promise to let you wash the dishes each and every night.”

His wife.

Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the idea that he loves animals and once dreamed of taking care of them, or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s been so long since a man, a kind man, has paid any attention to me, but the idea of marrying this man, of having his baby so that he can retain control of Caldwell Industries, suddenly doesn’t seem so insane.

In fact, it’s starting to sound like a pretty good idea.

“Jeremy…” My voice is so soft I’m afraid that maybe he doesn’t hear me, but his head snaps around.

“Yeah?”

I lick my lower lip. His eyes narrow and track the movement. “Would you do me a favor?”

“Maybe. Depends on what the favor is.”

“Will you kiss me?”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He dips his head, taking my lips in a gentle kiss that sends tiny shivers of anticipation shooting all the way to my toes. Without breaking the kiss, he wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me up and placing me on the countertop. He adjusts my position until I’m flat on my back. He rains light kisses along the side of my jaw as he settles beside me, tugging my body tightly against his.

With a low growl, he releases my lips. He stares into my eyes, asking silent questions that I don’t completely understand. I don’t need to understand. The only thing that matters is that I crave his touch, his taste, even more than I do the very air I breathe.

I lift my hand, surprised to find it trembling, and cup his cheek.

“I’d like to do that again,” he murmurs, his lips hovering a hair’s breadth from my own. Desire thickens his voice. “But if I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to,” I whisper, my own voice heavy with the same desire.