My body’s screaming for more. More kisses, more of Andrew’s gentle touches and sweet words. But there’s still that part of me that’s on guard. Being cautious is a part of who I am now. As if waiting for the ball to drop or for that kindness to change to a vicious form of the man standing before me. It’s something I can’t control.

“Whatever you’re thinking, please stop.”

“I’m not thinking about anything,” I lie, attempting to turn my face away to hide my blush.

He cups my face with his strong, smooth hands, and I damn near melt.

“I can tell there’s something bothering you, and whatever it is, please know, I want this with you—whatever this is. Whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll take. Even if this is our only date, then I’ll cherish it because you’re an exceptional and beautiful woman. So sweet and kindhearted. I’m drawn to you, Reagan, and I don’t want you to think I have any ulterior motives. I assure you, I don’t.”

His words cut me so deep. I’m internalizing everything, and deep in the depths of my soul, I know he’s telling me the truth. That cruel part that’s in so many rich and powerful men doesn’t exist in him. He’s not Zane. He’s Andrew. I’m with Andrew.

“I’m trying,” I admit. “It’s hard.”

“I get it.”

“Please be patient with me.”

“I will.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and leans down to brush his lips against my cheek. “Maybe our next date, we could go casual,” he adds, still holding my full attention. “We could put our toes in the sand.”

“What are you suggesting?” I ask playfully, knowing that he must be referring to something local. I enjoy the way his face lights up at the mere thought of whisking me away.

Andrew places his hand on my hip, stepping in close. “I’d take you anywhere you wanted to go, if given the opportunity. But I was thinking Lake Michigan or maybe biking along Navy Pier or a picnic possibly.”

“I love that idea,” I confess. “Can’t say I can picture you riding a bike or wearing something other than a high-dollar suit though.”

He smiles, a smile that reaches his eyes.

I’ve found that I love that smile. It gives me a warm feeling, a comfort I never expected to experience.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve ridden a bicycle on many occasions.”

I arch a brow at him, and he chuckles at my questioning stare.

“I also have a closetful of clothing other than my designer suits. I’m quite fond of Under Armour and Nike.” His wink following his words makes it impossible for me not to laugh.

“I’m surprised, Mr. Powers. I imagined you slept in Gucci and Prada. The finest fabrics touching your body.”

I must admit, it feels great to be so relaxed in the presence of Andrew. My attraction for him is something I’ve focused on daily. It’s a constant inner tug-of-war.

“So, you imagine me in bed,” he says playfully.

Before I can respond, Andrew leans in closer and presses a soft kiss to my lips. Any thoughts of him lying in bed alone are washed away, and in their place are those of us together. The idea of taking that step terrifies me, but it also makes my heart rate spike as my body grows warm.

“Soft and alluring,” he whispers as he pulls back for only a moment before he moves in once again.

I reach out, gripping his jacket, and fist it in my hand. The firmness of his lips pressing on mine and the gentle sweep of his tongue surprise me, yet it doesn’t frighten me. It feels exhilarating, and I accept his advances without hesitation. The tip of my tongue meets his, and a deep groan escapes him as his fingers weave through my hair, holding me close.

I feel so alive. My body vibrates with excitement as I lean into him, his chest now firmly pressing against mine.

“Kissing you,” he speaks against my lips, “is like nothing I’ve ever felt.”

His confession only heightens my need for more.

“I know,” I agree.

I feel him smile against my lips and only imagine his relief after weeks of hesitation on my part.

Suddenly, Andrew pulls back, resting his forehead on mine, as we both take a moment to breathe evenly. My eyes remain closed as I still hold on to his jacket for support.

“If I bring you coffee in the morning, are you going to get angry with me?”

His question makes me laugh. Not just a giggle, but a laugh that has me leaning back from him as I look up at the darkened sky.

“I’m just saying that I will most likely bring you a venti caramel latte, and I need to prepare myself for the backlash.”

“I’ve been awful to you,” I say as I look back at him, slowly running over the last few weeks in my mind. “Really awful,” I add as my rash behavior hits me.

“What do you say, we start over from tonight?” he insists.

“I like that idea,” I say, finally loosening my hold on his jacket.

This evening has taken a complete turn from what I originally imagined. I assumed I would be tense and praying for it to end halfway through. Only now, as we close out the evening, I find I’m doing the opposite. I don’t want it to end.

* * *

As promised, a venti latte is waiting on my desk the next morning along with a note.

Enjoy your coffee, beautiful. Lucky, lucky cup. I miss those lips already.

A sweet rush of excitement runs throughout my body as his words sink in. My reaction surprises me as I think of repeating those kisses we shared. Lifting my hand to my lips, I press my fingers against them, allowing my eyes to close for only a moment.

“We still on for lunch?”

I jump in surprise at the sound of Remy’s voice behind me. I hurriedly spin around and hold my hand to my chest.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay,” I say, waving it off, attempting to recover from my trip down memory lane. “Lunch,” I add quickly. “Sure.”

Remy questionably looks back at me. “I’ll meet you in the lobby at noon?”

I nod, but my attention is now completely focused on the man standing just a few feet behind Remy. Two very strong, extremely attractive men are hovering in one doorway, making my heart race. I realize in that moment how plenty of women would kill to be in this very situation.

Remy looks over his shoulder, but Andrew keeps his eyes focused on mine.

“Still on for lunch?” Andrew asks, causing my stomach to tense.

“Reagan and I,” Remy says with a smirk, “yes.”

I can’t quite weigh out the look Andrew’s offering. His eyes feel as if they are burning holes in me. That intense, deep longing mixed with possible irritation.

Then, a trace of a grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “It seems my lunch appointment has canceled,” Andrew says, finally looking at Remy. “I was thinking about being the third wheel on your lunch date, if you don’t mind.”

I instantly recognize that he’s repeating Remy’s words from the night before.

I sense that Remy wants to say no.

His jaw tenses as he leans back against the doorframe. “Why would Sydney Wilmington cancel?” he challenges Drew.

I witness it unfold.

“That woman practically drools over you. She makes appointments with you just to discuss the amount she spends on her stylist monthly.”

“That’s why the appointment is unnecessary.”

I don’t miss the way Andrew’s neck muscles tighten as he narrows his eyes at Remy.

I honestly don’t quite understand this power trip between the two men, but what I do know is that, whoever this Sydney person is, I instantly hate her. It is a foreign feeling really, something I have avoided, but with Andrew, it is unstoppable.

“So, noon then,” Andrew adds.

I find myself smiling, and Andrew notices, which only makes his smile brighter.

“I can’t wait,” he adds just before tossing me a wink. Stepping back from the doorway, he walks away, whistling, his hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks, only making the material pull a little tighter over his ass.

Have I mentioned just how nice of an ass it is?