The car ride back is silent. A gnawing feeling has been bothering me for the past few hours.

“Julian, do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“No, not at all. What’s on your mind?” He glances at me before returning his eyes to the road ahead.

“Why aren’t you staying at your house? It’s not like there isn’t any room for you.”

“It’s not my home. It’s Father’s house, and most of the time, it’s more convenient for me to stay at Stanford Park. It’s close to most of the offices I usually visit.”

“Are you staying there this weekend?” I turn my body slightly his way, admiring his profile.

“No, I’m actually staying at a hotel not far from the house. Why do you ask?” He eyes me and realizes that I am frowning.

“Oh, I just thought it would be nice if you were also at the house.”

As we make our way toward Pacific Heights, he gently reaches for my hand. “If it would make you feel better, I guess I can make an exception and stay at the house as well. Mugpie would like the extra room that the house affords.”

“Really? I just feel weird not having you there.”

“Yes, really. I’ll try to ignore all the statues and portraits of my stepmum,” he answers with a bit of exaggeration and then realizes he may have offended me. “I apologize. And I do understand. Sometimes, it still feels new to me as well. It hasn’t been the same since Mum’s death and with Caroline…” He stares ahead, unaware he’s still harboring the same sadness I saw fourteen years ago. His left hand is holding the steering wheel, and his right hand is still laced with mine. When I squeeze it gently, he says with tenderness, “I’ve really missed you, Lina.”

Instead of driving directly to Marcel’s house, we make our way toward the Clift Hotel. The hotel, which is nearly a century old, captures the essence of San Francisco; it has all the amenities of a modern hotel, yet it has managed to maintain it’s old-world elegance.

The deluxe suite surprises me. My thousand square feet bungalow in Santa Monica is about the same size as Julian’s suite. But it feels more like a home than a hotel suite. There are high ceilings, a state of the art entertainment center, and a formal dining room. My senses are on overload. Silk, velvet, leather, and glass are everywhere. It’s sexy in here. Somehow being alone in this space with Julian scares me.

Oh, the things I would allow him to do with my body in this suite.

Stop, Lina, stop.

I scan the room, and when our eyes meet, I can’t help but turn away. I’m nervous. I just had a wonderful evening with him. Our platonic status didn’t prevent me from having another dirty image reminiscent of a scene from one of the X-rated films I recently watched. My body splayed on a large bed, my hands and feet tied to the posts as Julian slowly devours me. I shake my head.

“Lina?” His deep voice interrupts my filthy mind hard at work.

“Huh?”

“I’m going to the bedroom to retrieve some things. Make yourself at home.”

I watch him walk away, and I finally exhale. I need to fan myself. Hell, I need to pour freezing water over me.

While trying to make myself comfortable, I notice an unframed photo on the desk. Studying the image, I realize it is Mugpie with a beautiful blond woman who I don’t recognize. Julian mentioned he didn’t have girlfriends, so who could this woman be?

Lina, stop thinking too much. And then I think about how attracted I am to Julian. He’s the type of guy who would make a nun renounce her vows.

If I weren’t engaged, would I hook up with Julian? I need to put these silly thoughts out of my head. Fifteen minutes go by. I glance at my watch and wonder what’s taking him so long. Suddenly, the front door opens. An attractive, young woman with Mugpie stands across the room. You see, you’re a stupid fool for thinking that someone as beautiful as Julian would have any romantic interest in you. Mugpie is by her side, panting as if he had been running a marathon. Slightly bending her knees to release him from the leash, she whispers something in his ear.

“Hi,” she greets me warily as she eyes me up and down.

“Oh, hello.” I place the photo back on the desk.

“Is Julian here?” she asks with a Southern accent. “I didn’t think he would be returning to the hotel so soon.” She continues to eye me, and I begin to feel uncomfortable. In a matter of seconds, I recognize her as the woman in the photo. She’s even more beautiful in person.

Cascades and cascades of thick, long, blond hair fall on her shoulders. Her height is not imposing, but she herself is. Her body is toned and athletic. She looks like she eats healthy, swims, runs, and does everything she needs to do to keep her body in shape. She has that All-American girl-next-door look, reminding me of a young Christie Brinkley. But most of all, even though she looks at me warily, there is something warm about her. Maybe because prior to letting him off his leash, Mugpie had been standing quite close to her, obviously comfortable with her. More importantly, she allowed him to lick the side of her face.

Loud barking in the other room interrupts us. “No! No, Mugpie. Come back here.” With a pair of black Hogan shoes dangling from his mouth, the bulldog scurries along, trying to make his escape. Right behind Mugpie is Julian. Shirtless, shoeless and only wearing gray sweats, he is a sight I can’t stop gawking at. His damp hair and the traces of water running down along his chest force my mouth to open wider than possible. My eyes trail down to the deep V disappearing below his sweats, and I believe my jaw just dropped. He. Is. Insanely. Hot.

Fuck me!

Two pairs of eyes stare at me.

Did I just say that out loud?

“Excuse me?” he asks.

“Oh, I just said, ‘stupid me.’ I forgot my manners and didn’t introduce myself to your girlfriend.”

The Southern girl’s blue eyes bulge out. “Oh, no, no, no. I’m not his girlfriend. I’m Cecelia, his assistant. I didn’t know you guys were going to be here. I forgot Mugpie’s eye meds.” Cecelia is now the one that seems uncomfortable. “His allergies have worsened and his eyes are bloodshot red.” Mugpie finally puts down the pair of Hogan shoes and starts to snort loudly.

Julian kneels to inspect his dog’s eyes. “My God, they are red. I’ll take care of the meds myself.” Now rising from his position, he says, “I meant to call you earlier. I’ve decided to stay at my father’s and would prefer that Mugpie be with us. Enjoy the weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday. Thank you.”

“You’re staying there?” She looks at me and then offers a pensive smile. “Oh, okay. I’ll be at Sam’s place if you need me.” Turning to face me, she offers her hand. “It’s nice to meet you …”

“Lina,” I say, before gladly accepting her hand.

Cecelia’s grin is so wide I can’t help but notice how perfect her teeth are.

“Well, it’s finally nice to meet you, Lina. I’ve heard all about you. We’ll be seeing more of each other. Julian”−she turns to him and smiles−“don’t forget your Monday morning call with the developers. Have a great time at your father’s.” She tiptoes to kiss his right cheek, which he accepts warmly. She heads toward the door before turning around. Bending her knees, Cecelia summons Mugpie. The beast runs without hesitation, crooked and bumping into things before jumping on her. “Be a good boy. Love you, buddy.” Mugpie continues to lick her face between snorts.

Closing the door gently allows me to gawk at Julian. The muscles on his back are prominent, and it takes every inch of me not to go over to him and touch it. He stretches his arms slightly, and I swear I am about to go into cardiac arrest just watching him. He turns around and … Sweet Jesus, he’s freeballing. He’s not wearing underwear, and with each stride he takes, his enormous bulge is flopping around.

The revelation of knowing he’s commando under his sweats has my mind running in circles. Oh, shit has been transplanted on my face and his panty-dropping grin confirms it.

“Are you okay, Lina?” He tilts his head to the side.

No, I am not okay. I am a woman in heat.

“Lina?” Moving closer, each step he takes makes my heart beat faster. We’re only a few inches apart. So close yet so far. And that bulge of his draws my mind blank.

His clean scent wakes me. “Uh … yes. I … I guess I’m just a bit tired.”

“I apologize for taking so long. I needed to shower before heading to Father’s. I’m pretty much packed.”

The image of him naked in the shower has me tongue-tied. “O-o-okay.”

I remain frozen in place, still daydreaming, when he walks over to the phone. “Larry, yes, I need the car, and I won’t be staying here. Oh, she did, did she? What did you tell her? Yes, I’ll call her shortly. Thank you.” Without a glance in my direction, he saunters to the bedroom. I don’t know what to do with myself, so I sit on the sofa next to Mugpie who looks like he’s ready to call it a night.

I whisper in his ear, “I’m exhausted too. Salivating after your dad is tiring.”

A few more minutes go by. An unfamiliar odor invades my space while seated next to this adorable bulldog. He growls a little, and I realize he just farted. It’s one of those silent yet stinky farts. With his huge dark brown eyes and his enormous wrinkled face that looks too big for his body, I can’t help but laugh because he looks like an old wrinkly man. I begin to stroke his back. Petting his wrinkled body has given Mugpie energy to sit up and lick my chin. “You like that, don’t you?” He lets out another fart. Umm. I didn’t expect to get so much action from a dog.

“I knew he would love you too.” Julian has changed into a dark gray fitted t-shirt and dark jeans. When his phone rings, he looks at it with irritation. “Excuse me.”

“Shira, I told you that I would call you later. But since you’re on the phone, I have the details to give you.” He pauses. “Well, I’m not staying at the Clift this weekend. I’ve changed my mind. I know, I know. I’ll be at my father’s. I’ll have a car pick you up tomorrow evening around seven. Don’t worry. Call Cecelia, and she’ll take care of the bill. Please don’t overdo it. It’s my father’s birthday celebration. It will be intimate. No, no, I can’t see you later. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Good night.”

He looks embarrassed. “I apologize. That’s my date for tomorrow night.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a girl…”

He cuts me off immediately. “I don’t have a girlfriend. She’s just someone I see sometimes.”

A strange and unfamiliar burning sensation comes over me. Am I jealous that Julian has someone who he sees? Why should I care?

“Julian, please, don’t stay at the house especially since you will be with your ‘friend.’” I use my fingers to emphasize the word ‘friend.’ “I don’t want you to think you need to stay there because of me.”

“Lina.” He hesitates for a second. “You’re the only reason I am staying at Father’s.” Before continuing his thought, he assesses my face before admitting, “I just hope you’re not going to be offended when you hear us fucking.”