Two days have never felt closer to a lifetime, and the wait as Ruby makes her way from her office to my town car is quickly approaching an eternity.

I agonized over the flowers all night on Wednesday night, after a silent ride back to the city. Ruby wouldn’t look at me—she quickly focused her attention out the window, and then on the manuscript she pulled out of her bag. The only thing I heard from her at all was her murmured goodbye when she got out at her building.

I desperately wanted to tell her—to try to get through to her—that her hesitancy wasn’t something to be ashamed of. 

Things got hot between us, and they got hot fast. I don’t blame her for wanting to slow down. I don’t blame her for feeling conflicted. I’m assuming she feels conflicted, because every other word she says to me reveals as much, but the way her body was responding...

In the end, I settled on the flowers because even if she didn’t want to speak a single word to me as we drove away from her family’s estate, something is different between us. I can’t deny it, and I doubt she can, either.

Whether she wants to deny it is another story altogether.

I heard nothing from her yesterday, though the delivery was confirmed. This morning I sent a single text message asking about her availability for the afternoon. Her only reply? I’m still available.

I flip through inventory on my tablet, forcing myself not to stare at the front door of the building. She wouldn’t be able to see me—the windows of the town car are tinted—but if she’s ambivalent about this...

I can’t help rolling my eyes at myself. Jesus, I’m just as torn as she must be. At least I know I want her. I want her so much—I want to do so much more with her—that it doesn’t matter that she’s technically a client, and screwing clients is bad for business. 

The door on the passenger side of the car opens, and I shove the tablet down to the seat next to me.

“Hi, Phillip.” Ruby’s voice is pleasant, but reveals absolutely nothing. She’s standing so close to the car that all I can see are the folds of her flowered sundress until she steps inside, lowering her head to get in. She slides along the seat, scooching toward me just enough to let Phillip close the door behind her.

Every movement is deliberate, controlled. She places her bag onto the seat next to her, between us. She smooths her dress over her lap.

Then she looks up at me, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks.

Ruby bites her lip.

Do not reach down and adjust yourself right now. Don’t fucking do it.

I fold my hands in my lap again. Maybe if I act nonchalant about it, she won’t notice that I’m hard as a rock. Ruby presses her lips together, like she’s having trouble with the simplest greeting in the world.

Phillip climbs into the front seat and takes the first available opening into traffic.

There’s only one thing to do—take this out of her hands.

“Hello, Ruby.”

She lets out the softest breath. “Levi.”

There’s a pause, and we both get up the courage to break it at the same time.

“I wanted to thank you—”

“I hope you didn’t feel—” I break off, grinning at her. “You go first.”

Ruby smiles and drops her shoulders an inch. I didn’t notice the tension in her body when she first stepped into the car, but now that I’ve seen it, it’s impossible not to notice that it seems to be lessening, just a little. “I wanted to thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

“I’m so glad you liked them. I hope you didn’t feel…” What was I going to say a second ago, when I started talking? “I hope you didn’t feel like they were…putting you on the spot.”

She rolls her eyes, and her smile widens. “The rest of my office was very interested to find out who they were from.”

“Did you tell them?”

“It’s none of their business.”

“You’re terrible.”

Ruby gives me a look. “I never said I wasn’t terrible.”

I have no other choice but to seize the moment. The conversation isn’t at a strained halt, so I go for it. “I’m sorry if you felt…overwhelmed about what happened on Wednesday.”

She drops her gaze to the seat between us, but then her magnificent blue eyes are on mine again, and a jolt of electricity runs from my shoulders to my fingertips. “I felt like an idiot.”

“I feel pretty damn stupid sometimes when a gorgeous woman kisses me.”

“I didn’t feel stupid about kissing you.” Ruby sucks in a breath. “I felt stupid about stopping.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Because we’re past the point where it makes sense to lie?”

Ruby narrows her eyes. “Did it ever make sense to lie?”

“Not to each other.”

When she understands what I’m saying, a slow smile works its way over her lips. “Oh, so you were in denial about your feelings for me?”

“Yes. That’s exactly it. I didn’t want to admit that I found you so excruciatingly attractive that I threw all business caution to the wind and offered to hold an auction instead of selling you on the original deal.”

“Sounds like you have admitted it.”

“What about you, Ruby? What haven’t you admitted?”

Her face is redder by the second. “I couldn’t hide the way I felt about that dollhouse.” She flicks her eyes toward the ceiling of the car. “The dollhouse, of all things. And when we were on the sofa…” Her voice drops, and she has to clear her throat. “I admitted…”

I move toward her, across the seat, but I don’t touch her. “I’ll never forget it. You told me you didn’t hate me.”

“I didn’t hate the way you…the way you made me feel.”

“Do you hate it now?”

“No.” One whispered word, and all of the turmoil from the past two days slips away. “But Levi…”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know if I can…if I can do this. The auction—you, in my family’s house…” Her hands flutter upward like she might cover her mouth. “You’re the last person I should be talking to about this. You’re the last person I should look to for any kind of…for anything. This should be professional...”

“Oh, Ruby.” I draw one finger down the line of jaw. “Professional? Us? I don’t think so.”