Bernadette couldn’t stop the butterflies taking up residence in her belly. Connall’s voice was like dark honey, and she never wanted to stop tasting it.

“You know how to brighten a girl’s Monday,” she said, swallowing a squeal. She rose from the leather arm chair she’d been lounging in, excusing herself from her father’s home office. He sent her a quizzical look as she quietly departed. They’d been in the middle of a meeting, but Connall was more important. Even though she knew better than to pick up his call when she was leaving for Montana in three days.

“I’ve been wanting to call since approximately fifteen minutes after I dropped you off on Saturday, but you know, social decorum.”

She laughed into the heel of her hand, looking out the front window without really seeing anything. “Your restraint is admirable.”

“It didn’t last long.” Connall sighed through the phone. She could almost see his light blue eyes dancing with mischief. “Bernadette, I want to see you again.”

She fought a grin. Somehow, it seemed terribly childish to get so excited over a guy like Connall. Her rational, career-minded side knew it was headed nowhere, and that side of her liked to rule with a yardstick against the knuckles at times.

“Oh? What would a second date with you entail? You’ve already set the bar so high with the first one.”

“Whatever you want, my dear,” he purred.

Shivers raced up her spine. Three days. Three days in Seattle. It was foolish to even consider seeing him again. “I was hoping for a helicopter ride to Alaska.” She tried to think of something even more ostentatious than a private serenading on a multimillion-dollar instrument. “Or maybe we could stop by the pyramids at Giza.”

His low chuckle sent thrills through her. “I could organize either of those, if you wanted.”

“Or maybe I just want a good old-fashioned hamburger at a diner.”

“Your wish is my command.”

It was too sexy when he talked like that. Especially with the accent. “Then okay. I’m all yours. But it has to be soon.”

“Is tomorrow night soon enough?”

She grinned. “Definitely not. I thought you’d offer to come pick me up now, honestly.”

“I would, but I’m at work, and I already booked a business dinner this evening.” He paused. “But trust me…if I could, I’d already be on my way to your house.”

She pinched her eyes shut, fighting off another wave of giddiness. Too much. He was too much. “I guess that makes me feel better then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After they hung up, Bernadette hung suspended in time, staring out the window at the sloping lawn of her parents’ house, unable to move for fear of waking up. Someone like Connall was the stuff of dreams. A bona fide Prince Charming with good looks, money, and an impossibly magnetic personality.

Too bad he’ll run once he finds out what you do…

She cleared her throat, straightening her back before returning to her father in his office. She could gush about Connall later. For now, she had work to do. Her father had generously agreed to help her put together a new proposal for securing two hundred extra acres of protected land for use by the sanctuary, which would double its current size and significantly expand the scope of her research. His help was crucial in getting her proposals into shape for future donors.

“Who was that?” Her father’s severe gaze felt like a reprimand when she stepped back into his office.

“Someone I’ve been seeing,” she said, heat creeping into her neck. Were she and Connall seeing each other?

“Hm.” Her father perused the papers covering almost every square inch of his sprawling wood desk. “Is he involved with the sanctuary?”

“No, actually.” She paused, smoothing away a wrinkle in her pants as she considered telling her father exactly who had been on the other end of the phone. “But you do know him.”

“Do I?” He glanced up, his eyes narrowing. “Anyone I should be made aware of?”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Connall Beaumont. He was at the restaurant the other night, when we met for dinner.”

Her father’s face turned stony, and he didn’t move for an interminably long time. When he finally spoke, he said, “Are you serious?”

Ice coated her stomach, just as if she were sixteen all over again. “Yes. Why?”

“Connall is not a good idea,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I’d love for you to date more and finally find your dream man, Bernadette, but I can tell you right away Connall will break your heart.”

She held up a hand to stop him in his track. “Dad. We’re not getting married. We’re not even cohabitating. We’re simply talking.”

He huffed. “He’s not the man for you. You’re wasting your time.”

She crossed her legs, picking at non-existent lint on her knee. Her father was able to rankle her unlike anyone else in life, and it was exactly this superior, holier-than-everyone tone that triggered her. “I’m not wasting any of my time, thank you. I’m more than capable of deciding who to spend my time with, and it’s never a waste. Even if it doesn’t end in a relationship, I’m allowed to just talk to somebody if I want. Why shouldn’t I spend time with whomever I want?”

Her father opened his mouth to interject, but she shook her head. “I don’t want to hear anymore. I shouldn’t have said anything. I thought I’d bring it up because he mentioned his family had worked with you previously, but if your only goal is to tell me why yet another man isn’t good enough for me, then let’s just drop it.”

His nostrils flared, an expression of thinly veiled restraint crossing his face. This would always be a thorn in her side: his judgment and need for control.

Silence settled between them, the ticking of a nearby clock the only sound daring to break the tension. After a moment, her father shifted, his seat creaking beneath him.

“Just stay away from that family,” he said, re-immersing himself in the papers. She groaned, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Just couldn’t leave it alone, huh? Had to include a cryptic warning too?” She rubbed at her face, reminding herself to focus on the work at hand. No need to start a fight with dad just because he was the same person he’d always been. “Please, let’s just forget it.”

Besides, anything her father had to add was irrelevant. Surely his information was tainted by the biases of his profession, and furthermore, Bernadette didn’t even care. Connall was a good time, a pretty firework in the night sky of her life, and dinner—or pyramid—dates didn’t need to end in marriage or perfect compatibility to be worth her time.

She was going to see Connall again, enjoy it, and just let it be that.

“Now.” Her father shuffled papers on his desk, looking pleased with himself. “Where were we?”