Ivy hadn’t been joking about the invite to the ball being a great excuse to go shopping. She literally had nothing she could wear for such a formal event. If Ivy wasn’t wearing scrubs and a lab coat in some of her more hands-on classes at school, she was in comfy jeans and a sweatshirt at lectures or running around the city on various errands. At home, it was always pajamas. Especially when she was lounging on the couch, working on Whisper Line.

She remembered some of the initial literature she’d read when she was first getting into the sexting trade, saying that it was helpful for some operators to get into the mood of things by lighting candles and slipping into some sexy lingerie, but that wasn’t Ivy. She could turn her carnal appetites on and off, for the most part, like flipping a switch.

It probably had more to do with having a pretty healthy appetite to begin with than anything else. The fact that it was always on, buzzing low in the background of most interactions. She wasn’t blind to the handsome guys vying to become doctors right alongside her in class, or the way they looked at her, wondering which, if any, of them was going to be the first to make it with her.

She wished they’d saved their energy for their studies. That was what she was doing, at least. She wasn’t opposed to some casual dating, especially when it meant that she’d get some physical pleasure out of it. But she couldn’t devote the time required to have a real relationship with anyone. She was too busy.

And none of the guys at her school were really her type, anyway. Pale, skinny, and terrible gossips.

No, she’d been lucky to find the dress she’d worn on her first date with Cole in the back of her closet, a little musty from disuse. Ivy knew that, as much as she wished it to be true, she wasn’t going to dig deep enough in her drawers and come up with a ball gown.

That’s how she found herself at a gorgeous—but pricey—boutique, leafing through a rack of sparkling dresses, trying not to grimace at the price tags while under the watchful eye of a saleswoman.

“You should go with something green—maybe this emerald one?” The saleswoman pulled a floor-length strapless number with thousands of shimmering sequins on it. “It’ll bring out your eyes.”

“I don’t know,” Ivy hedged. “I think that dress is a little too glamorous for me.”

“No such thing,” the saleswoman said, laughing. “I’ll put it in the dressing room for you.”

Ivy sighed and continued browsing the selection. The gowns were expensive, sure, but she could afford one. It wasn’t that notion that was giving her the hang-up. It was the idea she was about to drop a bunch of money on a dress she’d only wear once. She appreciated the glitz of the green dress the saleswoman had pulled aside, but Ivy knew it would be a one-hit wonder. Where in the world would she even have the opportunity to wear it again?

“So, what’s the big occasion?” The saleswoman had sidled back up to her. “Let me guess. Some kind of congressional gala. A fundraiser, or something, for a senator? I think taxpayers would just be shocked by the amount of partying that happens on their dime.”

“Nothing like that,” Ivy said quickly. “Just a ball.”

“Oh, the military ball.” The woman laughed again, a merry, tinkling sound that danced up and down the musical scale, at Ivy’s jaw dropping open. “Don’t look so shocked. As big as D.C. is, it’s got an awfully small-town feel. If it’s not lawmaking, it’s military. And if it’s not either of those things, it’s the press.”

“I don’t really have anything to wear to it,” Ivy confessed. “Nothing anywhere near formal enough.”

“Yes, the ball’s a whole production,” the saleswoman said. “Even if you are leaving it to the last minute. Don’t worry. We’ll get you fixed up.”

Soon, Ivy found herself crammed into a dressing room with no less than twenty gowns to try on. She hadn’t been this overwhelmed since she’d first observed a surgeon performing brain surgery.

It was her own fault, she figured. She couldn’t name a style or color preference to make it any easier for the saleswoman to find particular types of dresses for her, so she more or less raked all the dresses in Ivy’s size off the rack and hung them up in the dressing room.

The first number Ivy pulled on—a hot pink, ruffled dress with an asymmetrical hem—made her laugh out loud at her reflection.

“Find a good one?” the saleswoman called from the other side of the door. “I can be a second opinion, if you like.”

“Um, that’s okay,” Ivy said, thinking fast. “I’ll let you know if I need another size or anything, though.”

This dress was a definite no—gaudy and loud and decidedly not her. Still, Ivy couldn’t resist snapping a photo of herself with an overly bright, borderline manic grin to match the ridiculous dress she was wearing.

She sent it to Cole along with a brief message. “Found my dress for the ball.”

His response was almost immediate, and made her pause in changing to the next dress. “I’m a lucky man.”

Ivy snorted as she tried to muffle her mirth. “Seriously?” she typed back. “This isn’t anything near the dress I’d choose to wear.”

“I…totally knew that,” he sent back. “Totally knew.”

Ivy grinned and shook her head, shimmying into a blue beaded dress that was so tight it left precious little to the imagination. She sent Cole a snapshot of that one, too. “Yes, or yes?”

“Please tell me that’s actually the one,” Cole replied. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

Ivy had to do a lot of twisting and holding her breath to release her body out of the dress. “Absolutely not,” she finally sent back. “I barely escaped that one. There would be no breathing in that thing.”

“I’d unwrap you like a present,” he texted her. “I’d do all your breathing for you.”

Ivy bit her lip, considering what that might entail. A slow thrill of arousal slipped up her spine, and as she got into the next dress, her phone buzzed again.

“I take it you’re getting naked, over and over again, in a small, poorly enclosed room right now?” Cole sent.

“Pretty much the definition of shopping,” she replied, then sent another photo of her in a lemon-yellow getup. “Here comes the sun.”

“Where exactly are you?” he sent her. “I could be there in five, no matter where it is.”

She grinned, formulating her response. “I’m sure there’s got to be some rule about not seeing your date before the ball.”

“I could try to keep my eyes closed,” he replied. “My sense of touch could compensate.”

“You’d miss out on seeing me in all these crazy dresses,” Ivy typed. “That’s the whole point of shopping.”

“Then I humbly submit my application to help you pick out a dress.”

“Denied. We both know you wouldn’t be a fair judge.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m sure you’re much more interested in what’s underneath.”

“Caught me.”

“Knew it.”

Ivy paused after adjusting a simple black dress to fit her frame. This was a nice one. Simple, minimalistic, elegant. There wasn’t a sparkle or spangle on it. It was form fitting, off the shoulder, flaring out a little as it fell to the floor. It wasn’t the sexiest thing in the store, but something told her that this was the dress. If she accessorized right, did a good job on her hair and makeup, she could really make this work for her.

And she might just make an impression on Cole, too.

“Found the dress,” she sent him, this time without an accompanying photo. “Tonight’s looking up.”

Her phone rang and she grinned as she answered it. “You’re just going to have to wait until the night of to see that last one. I’m not giving you any more sneak peeks.”

“Ivy, honey?”

Ivy yelped and yanked the phone away from her ear to check just who, exactly, was calling her. “Mom?”

“Did I catch you in the middle of something?”

Ivy thought fast. “I just hadn’t realized I’d answered the phone. I was talking to…to someone. I mean, myself. You caught me at work, actually.” This was spiraling out of her control.

“Oh, I didn’t know the restaurant was open this early,” her mom said, voice innocent. “Are they doing a new lunch special, or something?”

Ivy did a quick check of the time and inwardly berated herself. She’d told her parents before, for whatever reason, that most of the time, she worked nights and that the restaurant was only open for dinner. It was one of the kernels of truth she’d thrown to them, because with most of her classes in the day, she did work Whisper Line at night. She had screwed up by claiming to be in work at this time of day.

“Yeah, it’s a summer thing,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She needed to make notes on the web of lies she’d ensnared herself and her parents in just so she could keep them all straight. “Temporary. They’re trying to see if people want luxury lunches.”

“Well, I’d think that’s a given,” her mom said. “Plenty of people with lunch meetings, I’m sure. I suppose I’m just surprised they don’t already offer lunch service. Or that you haven’t taken us out there whenever we’re in town, visiting you.”

Ivy tried to tamp down the spike of anxiety that shot through her body at that. Her parents had come up to D.C. a couple of times, but so far, she’d been able to steer them clear of the restaurant using a variety of techniques she wasn’t proud of.

“You know how it is,” she said. “Not wanting to see the same place you report to night after night when you finally get some time off from it.”

“Is there anything going on that you’re not telling us about, Ivy?” her mom asked.

She bit her lip. “Why would you ask me that?”

“You just sound…different. I don’t know how to explain it. But you can talk to us about anything. I hope you know that.”

The things that Ivy wanted to talk about she’d never burden her parents with. They’d be shocked if they ever found out about Whisper Line, and would probably blame themselves even if there wasn’t anything to blame anybody about. Ivy wasn’t ashamed of what she did to put herself through medical school, but she wasn’t about to open up to her parents about it.

“No, well, I’m going to this party tonight,” she said, cringing a little bit. It was easier to fib to her parents about the quirks in her life if she could find a few kernels of truth to throw their way. “It’s actually kind of a dance.”

“Hey, that sounds fun,” her mom said, upbeat. “You going with a group of friends from school or work?”

Ivy didn’t have the heart to inform her mom that she didn’t have friends from either of those spheres. “I’m going with this guy.”

“A friend?”

“Sort of.”

“A boyfriend?”

She laughed even as her face heated. “Mom, come on.”

“You never tell us anything about your personal life,” she said. “Can you blame me for chasing after the breadcrumbs you actually drop?”

“I’m trying to save myself the interrogation,” she said. “He’s just a guy…friend.”

“That’s a synonym for boyfriend, you know.”

“But without all the baggage that comes with boyfriend,” Ivy said. “It’s a military ball. He’s a Navy SEAL.”

“Is that right?” her mom asked, audibly impressed. “Oh, I bet he’s cute. Would you get someone to take some pictures of you two tonight? I’d love to see you all dressed up, for a change. And with a handsome man on your arm.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ivy said, having no intention of doing any such thing. She wasn’t even sure why she’d told her mom about the ball beyond the fact that she’d been under extreme duress. It wasn’t like Cole and her were going to last. What would she even tell her parents when they inevitably asked her where she met him? On Whisper Line? Even Cole wasn’t aware of that.

God, what was she doing?

* * *

Later in the evening, things inside Ivy’s head had calmed considerably. Mostly because they had to. The last thing she wanted to do was go into the ball with a brain full of angst. She was looking forward to seeing Cole, most of all, and that was what served as her inspiration. Even though they’d texted each other nearly every day, there was only so much she could do with the words on her screen. They were nice, but no substitution for Cole himself.

At least, that’s what Ivy realized as soon as she opened the door to her apartment and saw him standing there in his dress whites.

The uniform fit him to a tee, though Ivy supposed it was meant to. But something about the pristine white material against his sun-burnished skin made him, if possible, even sexier. She knew those muscles underneath the fabric, making the uniform bulge. She’d experienced them firsthand.

As she reached out, Ivy paused. She knew his body, but she didn’t know what he’d experienced, what he was capable of. Bravery, though, and valor—if the Silver Star Medal pinned to his chest had anything to say about it.

“Wow,” she said, then lapsed into silence, feeling a little stupid. Of all the things she could’ve said to a Silver Star recipient, “wow” was low on the list. She could’ve thanked him for his service, or congratulated him, or even asked how he got it—if it was something he could talk about, which was doubtful.

They simply stared at each other for the longest time, neither one of them able to put their thoughts into words. And when they finally did start talking, it was at the same time, over each other.

“You look really handsome in that uniform,” Ivy blurted out, at the exact moment Cole said, “I’m going to trust you to pick out your dresses for now on.”

They both laughed at themselves and each other, and Cole leaned forward, cupped Ivy’s face in his hand, and kissed her. It was everything they hadn’t been able to say, every compliment and admission of how much they’d missed each other through the week all rolled up into the furious press of his lips against hers. His tongue laving hers, making her choke out a moan directly into his mouth.

“Hi,” she whispered against his lips when both of them had to come back up for air.

“Hi.” He grinned. “Are you ready to wow everybody at the ball?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Ivy. You’re stunning. Incredible. I don’t have words to describe just how beautiful you look right now.”

She smiled. “As long as you think so.”

“Well, me and Curtis Prime.”

Ivy puzzled over that one until they were in Cole’s car. “Who’s Curtis Prime?”

“The guy I want to work for,” Cole explained. “The security firm.”

“And so we want me to…what, exactly?”

“Wow him.”

She gave Cole a look as they pulled out into the street. “You want me to seduce your potential boss?”

“No!” Cole laughed. “Not even if it ensures my future employment. I don’t want to share you with anyone.”

Unbidden, guilt surged through Ivy’s chest, thinking about all those anonymous men Cole unwittingly shared her with on Whisper Line. It was a strange feeling, swallowing that guilt alongside a strange sense of pride. Cole didn’t want to share her. He wanted her all to himself. He could have her. She could be all his.

“All I want you to do is impress him,” Cole was saying, drawing her back to the present. “I just want him to know that someone like me is capable of being with someone like you.”

Ivy spluttered a little. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re so beautiful and wonderful and outgoing. That I’m doing something right for you to want to be with me—or maybe that I’m just lucky. Luck is always an impressive thing. Maybe even better than skill.”

“Cole, I’m pretty sure this guy is going to take one look at your Silver Star and be impressed by you all on your own.” Ivy smiled at him. “I had no idea you were decorated. You could’ve clued me in.”

He shrugged. “Not something I’d really tell somebody about.”

“Classified?”

“Just something I don’t talk about.”

Ivy bit her lip. “Sorry.”

“Hey, none of that.” He whipped into the line for valet parking. “We’re going to have a good time tonight. How could we not, dressed like this?”

“You look good in white,” she agreed. He looked good in anything, really, but that was beside the point. He looked the best in nothing at all, but Ivy doubted very much that this was a clothing-optional party.

“And you,” Cole said, outside of the events hall, offering her his arm, “are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

The quiet admission made Ivy’s heart skip a beat, and she wasn’t sure what she could say to that.

The venue for the ball was incredible. Ivy had never been to anything like it, never seen so many beautiful and glamorous people all in one place. She was happy she’d gone with the black dress. It was the most elegant out of everything she’d tried on, and people were obviously going all out here. She even saw one tiara that she couldn’t be sure was only for decoration.

“You run with some pretty fancy crowds,” she murmured in Cole’s ear. “I’m starting to feel out of place.”

“If you do, it’s because you stand out,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful woman here, by far.”

Ivy gave a soft, incredulous laugh. She was sure the blush that warmed her face did nothing to help her in the looks department.

What she couldn’t help but notice was the deference people gave to Cole as they moved through the room. He got nods from everyone who realized what the gleaming star over his heart meant. And even for some of the women Ivy suspected didn’t, Cole was the one who got noticed the most. Not her. He was oblivious to it, though, completely focused on what Ivy wanted or needed. The moment her drink got less than half full, he was already looking for another waiter.

“Look sharp,” Cole said. “Well, you’re already looking sharp. I just spotted Curtis Prime.”

Ivy perked up, eyes darting around, wondering which of the countless finely dressed men held Cole’s future in his important hands. “What’s the mission? Should I spill my drink on him?”

Cole spluttered. “Why would you do that?”

“So you can swoop in with napkins and be the hero.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “Please keep a tight hold on your glass. No spilling.”

“Roger that.” Maybe these drinks were going right to her head.

Cole led her over to a handsome, white-haired man in a tuxedo who’d just finished chatting with a gaggle of women in sequins and feathers. If Ivy had seen his photo on Whisper Line, she would’ve called him a silver fox throughout their interaction.

She shook her head free from that thought; this was someone Cole wanted badly to impress, and since she cared so deeply about him, she was going to do everything she could to help.

Ivy blinked. Where had that train of thought come from? She cared deeply about Cole? Was that true? She had to admit to herself that seeing him this evening, outside her door, felt deeply satisfying. Like coming home after a long day, almost. Before she could stop and unpack that idea, though, Cole drew her forward.

“Mr. Prime, this is Ivy Lightfoot.”

Ivy beamed and shook the man’s hand. “Mr. Prime. It is such an honor to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Is that a fact?”

Both Curtis and Cole raised their eyebrows at her, and Ivy realized she’d made a mistake. The only thing she’d heard about Curtis was that he had a security firm that Cole wanted to work for.

To her credit, though, Ivy’s smile didn’t falter for a second. “Oh, yes. That your firm is the best around. No competition.”

Curtis smirked. “And are you in the market for security services, Ms. Lightfoot?”

She leaned conspiratorially close. “Isn’t everyone? I mean, it’s probably a little outside of my means. But I wish I had a big, burly bodyguard at my side whenever I walked down the street. I think guys would think twice about catcalling me at night. Thank God for Cole. I’ve never felt safer than with him.”

That smug little smirk turned into a look of genuine curiosity. “That’s wonderful. How long have the two of you been together?”

Cole shifted uncomfortably, but Ivy headed him off. “We’re still in the honeymoon phase, but it feels like I’ve known him for forever. That’s just the kind of man Cole is. I felt like I could trust him right away. He gives off a vibe.”

“It’s nice to see two young people in love,” Curtis said. “Refreshing, these days.”

For the first time, Ivy hesitated, especially with what she’d thought about earlier—having feelings for Cole. She’d been working to sell Curtis on Cole’s character, but Curtis had inferred she was head over heels for Cole.

Fortunately, Cole plunged right in. “Ivy loves many things. Loves helping people, most of all. She’s one year away from graduating med school.”

“Well, congratulations,” Curtis said, raising his white eyebrows at her. “That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“It’s my passion,” she admitted. “But I think the true accomplishment here is Cole’s work as a Navy SEAL.”

Curtis turned his full attention back to Cole. “That’s quite a power couple. Future doctor, Navy SEAL.”

“Future doctor, former Navy SEAL, I’m afraid,” Cole corrected gently. “I’m in the process of retiring. Just got back from my final mission a week ago.”

Ivy couldn’t help but smile at the way Curtis’s eyes widened a little at a key word in that statement. “You’re awfully young to retire.”

“Just from the Navy,” Cole assured him. “I’m just looking to establish myself. Settle down, a little.”

“I can understand that,” Curtis said. “Especially with someone like Ms. Lightfoot on your arm.”

Ivy blushed, wondering if Cole would correct him. She certainly wasn’t the reason Cole was looking to get out of the Navy or settle down. But Cole just kept forging ahead.

“That’s actually how Ivy heard about your security firm. She was asking what I was planning on pursuing after my retirement.”

If Curtis’s ears weren’t pricked up before, they definitely were now. “You’re interested in private security? Let me give you my card. Quality people are hard to find.”

Cole tucked the card carefully away, and Ivy couldn’t conceal her dopey grin.

“Thank you, sir,” Cole said. “Once I get everything finalized with the Navy, I’ll give you a call.”

“I’ll look forward to it, then,” Curtis said. “The two of you enjoy the rest of your night here. Cut loose. Celebrate that retirement a little.”

He shook hands with both of them, and Ivy let Cole steer her away, his hand on the small of her back. It was comforting there, the slight pressure and warm presence, but she was still a little anxious about the interaction with his potential boss.

“I hope I wasn’t too forward,” Ivy said, looking up worriedly at Cole as they moved toward the dance floor. “All those things about settling down and the honeymoon phase—I didn’t put my foot in my mouth, did I?”

Cole grinned down at her. “Hell, no. Ivy, you were a miracle.”

“Really?”

“Damn straight.” He leaned down and kissed her hard, right there in the middle of everything. “Thank God for you. Curtis was really into it. Did you see him?”

“We make a good team,” she said, mulling it over. When one of them had faltered in weaving the fabric of their story, the other one had jumped in, taking over seamlessly. And even the shock of Curtis automatically assuming that they were madly in love with each other hadn’t been enough to break their poker faces.

The live band suddenly struck up an infectious salsa beat, and a ripple of energy worked its way through the crowd.

“Could I have this dance?” Cole asked, holding his hand out to Ivy. “I feel like we have reason to celebrate.”

She grinned. “Such a gentleman.”

“Only sometimes.” He leaned closer to her so he could murmur directly into her ear. “I hope you’ll forgive me for wanting to have you right here in front of all these people. And that I’ve been sporting a hard-on ever since you won Curtis Prime over.”

“You did that all by yourself,” Ivy croaked past a too-dry mouth. “You’re impressive, Cole, and you deserve good things.”

“Do I deserve you?”

“Am I a good thing?”

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever come across.”

He swept her out onto the dance floor without further ado, spinning her around. Ivy couldn’t help a joyful yelp at the fast footwork she had to do to keep up.

“Do you know how to dance to this?” she asked needlessly, because they were already dancing.

“Picked it up a little on my travels,” Cole said, pulling her in close. “Just relax and go with it. I’ll show you what to do.”

It became abundantly clear that Cole had picked up a lot more than a little. He was really good, never missing a step. He laughed when she looked down, trying to keep track of what his feet where doing while trying to keep up with her own suddenly woefully inadequate steps.

“Just look at me,” he said. “I promise I’ve got you.”

Ivy wasn’t sure if it was how good he was at dancing or the fact that, as he pulled her in close, she could feel the evidence of just how aroused he was, or the memory that he’d told her the same thing just before entering her body and giving her one of the best orgasms she’d ever had. Whichever it was, Ivy’s face was hot in a way that wasn’t just the result of the cocktails she’d consumed tonight.

She was undeniably, irrevocably attracted to Cole. Just when she thought she had him pegged, he surprised her. Handsome, successful, a sex machine—and a good dancer? It was a little overwhelming.

Cole took pity on her, keeping her close to his chest, the two of them swaying gently to the beat as all the other dancers whirled around them. It felt like something in a dream. The atmosphere between them was pure, electric heat. There wasn’t another place in the entire universe Ivy wanted to be in other than his strong arms; his blue eyes dark and sultry in the dim lighting. They didn’t wander anywhere else, locked on her face.

“I can’t be this close to you and have these clothes between us,” Cole said in her ear, giving her a full-body shudder. “Can we go somewhere?”

“Yes,” she breathed. Because she couldn’t take it much longer, either. She wanted it so damn bad.

“Follow me.”