Big mistake.

Colossal error.

Total lapse of judgment.

Why in heaven's name had she agreed to move in with Evan? Just following him up the plushly carpeted stairs was making her knees tremble. She was getting this weird sort of humming in her ears, as if it was in the distance but also inside her head. Was this what sexual attraction felt like? If so, she sure as heck hadn't been attracted to the man she'd married.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons he'd fallen in love with someone else. He hadn't felt it for her either.

Not that she was thinking about marrying Evan.

Not that being sexually riveted by him would ever be enough to make a relationship between them work.

Not that she was even in the market for a man. Any man. Let alone Evan.

She was single. Independent. A mover and a shaker. Who happened to be homeless, broke, and lacking adequate transportation. If she didn't have a good imagination, she might even feel depressed.

But as it was, she was pretty much occupied with keeping the drool from dripping down her chin as she followed Evan down the hall, watching the graceful way he glided across the floor. All muscle and power, all sinew and passion.

What if she had a meaningless affair with him? It was relationships she'd banned herself from, not raw, hot sex. And since she hated Evan, it probably wouldn't be too hard to keep herself from getting emotionally involved. She could become a sex goddess, honed into a state of primitive sexuality, able to bring any man to his knees with a mere glance of her bedroom eyes and the pout of her sultry lips....

"This is your room."

Josie blinked as her fantasy faded from her mind. Wasn't this the second time in two days Evan had deprived her of a sexual fantasy? The man was going to owe her an apology. Maybe she'd allow him to apologize through sexual favors. "Where's your room?"

Evan jerked his head to the doorway directly across from hers.

Heat surged to her belly. "Wait a sec. Our rooms are across from each other?"

"Yeah." He gave her a bored look, and kept walking, carting four duffel bags and a cardboard box into the bedroom he'd allocated to her.

Across the hall. Their beds were mere steps away from each other. She'd probably be able to hear him breathing at night. "How many square feet is your house?"

"Not sure."

"Would over five thousand square feet be a bad guess?"

"Don't know."

"Liar. A man like you knows exactly how big his house is. Don't play Mr. Evasive with me. I'm way too cynical and bitter to put up with it."

He dropped the bags next to the huge bed with a very male navy comforter, and a black steel headboard. No charm or warmth here, with the white walls and two lamps with the personality of a cement tile building. "Where do you want this stuff?"

Hey! He wasn't allowed to ignore her question just because he felt like it. Maybe she had small boobs and a big butt, but she was a woman to be reckoned with. She was getting an answer whether he wanted to give one or not. "In this gigantic mansion, the only spare bedroom is right across from yours?"

"The others aren't furnished." He yanked open the boring white shade, letting in sunlight that accentuated the dullness of the room even more.

"You're kidding. Why?"

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "No one sees 'em. Why bother to spend the money?"

"I thought you were rich."

"I hate that word."

A little testy? Interesting. "Fine. I'll rephrase. I thought I was the only one in this relationship who couldn't afford furniture."

He shot her a look that indicated he would have been happier with her dropping the topic instead of rephrasing. "I don't like to waste money."

"Most people wouldn't consider furnishing a house a waste of money." She cocked her head. "But they might, however, consider it a waste of money to buy a house that was too big for you to afford, or so big that you didn't use ninety-five percent of it."

"It'll be filled someday."

"With what? Dust?"

"People."

"Who?"

He scowled. "Has anyone ever told you you're annoying?"

"Yes. So?"

The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "Fine. I bought the big house so everyone would know I'm filthy rich. But I'm never home, so I can't be bothered to furnish it. Just owning it serves my purposes of enhancing my reputation."

Josie tilted her head. "I think you're lying."

"Then I guess we're a perfect pair. I call you a liar, you return the favor. Match made in heaven, don't you think?"

"No, not really. I suspect living here will be pretty far from heaven." No doubt, she'd be spending her nights wondering what he slept in. Silk boxers? Leopard skin bikinis? Cotton briefs? Nothing? She shivered.

"I tend to agree with you," he said. "But since we're stuck with each other, let's just get on with it."

"Amen. I'm all yours."

"What?"

Oh, wait a sec. "By 'get on with it,' you weren't talking about seducing me?"

He turned red. Wow. Red. She'd never made a man turn red before. Was that because he had been thinking about it and she'd called his bluff? She could only hope.

"I told you. There'll be none of that," he said.

"I know," she sighed. "And that's best. But you know, sometimes my romantic female mind gets the best of me. Temporary insanity. Just dump me in a trough of stale water when it happens, and I'll be fine."

He stared at her. "You are one unusual woman."

Heat crept up the back of her neck at his sizzling expression. "What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure it out."

"Oh." What does a girl say to that? It could be a raving compliment, or a harsh slam.

So she might as well employ her skills at distorting reality and take it as an assertion that she was the most fascinating woman Evan had ever met and he was going to spend the rest of his life haunted by the woman he couldn't have.

Ah, that was brilliant. Wonderful for her tattered ego.

"So, um, the movers will be here soon." Evan moved toward the door, giving her a wide berth. What? Did he think she had hidden tentacles that would zap out and strike him down?

"Great. Where should I put this stuff?" she asked.

"What stuff?"

She flipped her hand toward the sterile bed. "Your furniture. I have to put it somewhere to fit my furniture in here. Do you have a basement?"

He stopped. Hmm... She took a subtle sniff and was rewarded with the scent of maleness, spice, and musk. Delicious.

"You aren't putting your furniture in here."

"Why not?"

"Because it's old. Faded. Dirty."

"But it has personality."

"No." He turned his back and walked out of the room.

No? Just like that? He thought he could order her around? "Evan..."

He stopped and faced her. "If you move your stuff in here, I'll move it right out."

"Why do you care?"

"Because I sometimes have business dinners here, and people ask for tours of the house. We come to the top of the stairs and I show them the first two rooms. Yours and mine. That's why that room is furnished, and it's going to stay that way."

So that's how it was. "So you really did buy this house to impress people." She never would have guessed Evan had the need to impress anyone, let alone through material goods. Maybe he wasn't as tough as he seemed.

His face darkened. "It's not like that."

"What's it like then?"

"Forget it. Just leave the room as it is." He paused. "It's important to me."

Holy mother of pearl. Knock her down with a baseball bat and trample her with a giraffe. Evan had just given her an honest-to-God emotional appeal. Never thought he even had it in him. Must encourage such behavior. "Fine. I won't touch my bedroom."

He nodded, grunted something unintelligible and walked into his room.

He was just shutting the door when Josie stuck her foot inside and blocked it.

Evan groaned and opened the door back up. "What now?"

"What's up for tonight? Dinner? Not sure how you want to work this roommate thing." It felt odd just to let him go into his room and shut the door without some sort of closure.

"Got a business dinner." He yanked off his tie, then hung it carefully on a very neat, very full tie rack built into the inside of his closet door.

"Business dinner? But it's our first night together." She lounged against the doorframe and tried on the pouty look of a spurned lover. Just for fun. It wasn't as if she actually cared whether they spent her first night bonding over takeout Chinese food.

"Someone has to support you in this luxurious lifestyle." He grinned. "I'm just a slave to your needs."

A slave huh? Would that be like a love slave?

"What's that look for?"

Heaven help her. Had the slave fantasy been apparent on her face? "Ah...well..." Heck, might as well lay it out there. It wasn't like she'd been keeping it any great secret anyway. If they were going to be housemates, it would be too much effort to tread on eggshells. "I was thinking about you being my slave...you know, with that...um...ridiculously sexy body and everything...then I sort of thought 'love slave'...and if you were my slave, then I could make you shut up and I could pretend that I liked you and then...well...my imagination sort of got away from me."

Evan's eyes surged with blackness and for a moment she thought he was going to swoop across the room, tear off her clothes, and make love to her right there on the carpet. Then he blinked, and the moment was gone, a reserved expression marring his fine features. "You think I have a sexy body?"

Her cheeks became hot. "Only when I'm delusional."

"Huh."

The surge of smug male satisfaction yanked her out of her indulgent mood. "However, I also think you're a jerk and you're manipulative and totally snowed by your brother. You still think I'm a liar, you believe in your brother, and I haven't entirely figured out why I'm here, given that information. However, as I said, I'm desperate and since I can't find your brother, I'll take you up on your offer." She balled her fists and held them in front of her chest, like a boxer readying for a fight. "I'm on guard, though. I don't know what you have planned with your little bed-and-breakfast setup, trying to pretend you have all these 'no touching' rules, but it's not going to happen."

He grinned, and Josie held her fists up higher. "I'm serious."

"I know you are. And I'm terrified."

"You wouldn't mock me if I was an Amazon warrior woman with a spear."

"But you aren't, are you?"

She dropped her fists, replacing them with a sour glare. "I'm working on it."

"You moving to the Amazon?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." She lifted her chin and turned haughtily away. "None of your business. Have a good evening. I'm going to go wait for the movers."