He'd never felt so tender toward another human being as he did when he helped Lizzy out of the shower and into one of the terry cloth robes that hung in the bathroom. When she collapsed into a small ball on the bed, a twinge of guilt ran through him, despite the satisfied smile that enveloped her face.

"I wonder what Jacob would say if he could see us now," she said, voice slurred with satisfaction.

Ian snorted. "He'd be too busy kicking my ass to say much."

She giggled, and his heart twisted. "Maybe. Although you tended to win the fights you guys had growing up."

He'd only won around half, but he wasn't going to tell that to the woman of his dreams. "Sure did." He flexed at her and her grin widened.

"It's pretty tough to take a man in a robe seriously."

"Oh? I can take it off if you prefer." He waggled his eyebrows at her, earning him another musical laugh.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked. The bottle that she'd had open when he arrived still waited on the small table.

"Sure."

He poured the wine, watching the dark red liquid fill the glass, and tried to bring his thoughts into some kind of focus. That he was here with her, with his Lizzy, seemed impossible. And what if she only wanted one night? She was a librarian. What if she loved the quiet life? She might have no interest in joining him in the spotlight. Oh, he wasn't a movie star, and now that he wasn't forced to escort Elise to all of her pet charity balls and socialite gatherings, he didn't go to fancy events that often. But what if even that was too much for her?

What if she just wasn't interested in him for the long term?

He grimaced at the thought. If she wasn't interested in him for more than a fun-filled night, well then, he'd just have to change her mind.

* * *

When Ian handed her the wine glass, his playfulness was gone. A serious expression coated his face, and she wondered if he'd finally realized that she might want more than just the night. Maybe he wasn't ready for a relationship and wasn't sure how to tell her. Darn it. She'd known this would be awkward.

No. She wouldn't let this be weird. There had been enough of that word today. She would pretend that one night was just what she had planned, and then compel her expression to agree with her words. This wasn't something she could force on him. He was the man of her dreams, but those dreams would shatter if he stuck with her past their one night together out of guilt.

"So, I guess we should get some sleep," she said, voice cheerful. She took a sip of the wine, but it seemed to have lost its flavor. "I'm flying out tomorrow, and I don't want to be totally dead on the flight. And I'm sure that you have things to do. You're a very busy guy, or so I hear," she teased.

He hesitated, then said, "Work keeps me pretty busy, I guess."

She nodded. Thank God. She could do this. "I'll bet." She turned and set her wine glass down, then reached out to click off the light, but his hand caught hers.

"Lizzy, we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," she said, firmly. Dammit. She wasn't as good an actress as she'd hoped. He was probably picking up on the fact that she was upset, and now the guilt was setting in. She pulled her hand from his, and he let her go. She switched the lamp off, and then set her head on the pillow, closing her eyes.

The last thing she felt before sleep caught her was the covers being pulled up more securely around her neck. He was, of all things, tucking her in.

* * *

Ian watched as her eyes closed. Only seconds after he pulled the covers around her, her breathing evened, and she fell fast asleep. He touched her damp chestnut hair softly, not wanting to wake her. She'd always been like that. Once, he'd teased her that she could fall asleep as quickly as any house cat.

Walking back out to the small table, he left her to slumber. The wine tasted bitter in his throat, but a glance at the bottle assured him that the fault was his, not the expensive merlot's. Could she really just want a one night stand?

He cursed under his breath and set his wine glass on the table. If she did, he'd just have to convince her otherwise. She was his Lizzy, whether she knew it or not. She always had been. He just hadn’t been able to show her or prove it to her until now.

He couldn't let her go.

* * *

Lizzy awoke to sunlight streaming in from a small opening between the curtains. A hard body lined her back, and a muscular arm held her close. She could feel Ian's stubbled chin against the back of her neck.

Keeping things light, keeping her feelings firmly hidden behind a cheerful facade, had seemed so much easier in the darkness of night. The light streaming in, while narrow, was too bright. Too revealing.

She had to get out of here.

Lizzy wiggled out of Ian's arms and grabbed her dress off the floor. Would he ever forgive her for sneaking out? Of course, he'd probably be happy she'd done it. No awkward conversation. No feeling like he had to act like he wanted more than the single night to spare her feelings. Besides, she wasn't sure she could resist even the most obviously guilt-driven request from him to stay.

After last night, one crook of his finger and she'd be a goner.

She pulled her dress on and worked the zipper up as high as she could get it. Darn it. You had to be a contortionist to get the thing all the way up. It was high enough. She had a jacket in her overnight bag. She just had to get to the elevator and she could pull it on and no one would be any wiser.

"Going somewhere?" Ian's deep voice cut the air behind her.

She froze like a rabbit trying to convince a wolf she was merely an oddly shaped rock.

"I can still see you even if you don't move," Ian said, voice laced with amusement. She could hear the swish of clothing behind her. He was dressing—thank goodness. One thing she could never say no to was a naked Ian.

"You're awake," she said with false cheerfulness. Keeping her back to him, she grasped her bag tightly, and tried to come up with something clever to say. "I just thought that I—"

"Would slip out like a big wimp before I could talk to you?"

She turned around, face hot. He'd already pulled on his slacks, and his shirt dangled from his fist. "You don't know what you're talking about. I just…I didn't want it to be awkward. I didn't want you to make this into a big deal."

He was standing in front her before she could turn away. "Last night was a big deal to me." He took a deep breath. "I'm not going to pressure you, but I will take the risk and be honest with you."

She opened her mouth to stop him from speaking. His gaze was too intense, his expression too fierce. But he placed his index finger on her lips.

"I love you, Lizzy."

"You don't have to say that," she protested desperately.

"I'm not saying it because I have to. I love you so much—so damn much. I think I've loved you since your prom night—inappropriate as that sounds."

She opened her mouth again but he stopped her with a kiss—a soft, tender touch of his lips. Then he stepped back, holding her gaze with his own. She tried to force words from her throat, but they wouldn't come.

"I'm going back to the penthouse. Going to give you some space to think. I'll be waiting for you."

And with those words, he was gone.

* * *

Ian stomped in his penthouse suite. Back and forth he traced his steps. Had he made a mistake? Giving her time to decide what she wanted—space to let her really think—had seemed like a good idea. The right thing to do. But now, as he indented the carpet of the suite, he wondered if he should have stayed, talked to her.

A quiet knock sounded on the hotel room door, and he stopped pacing, afraid that the slightest movement might chase away his visitor. He stiffened his spine and headed for the door, but it clicked open before he could reach it.

His breath caught at the sight of her. She'd showered and changed her clothes. Jeans and a casual blouse adorned her slender form. Loose hair hung around her shoulders. The styled curls she'd worn the night before had been replaced with a casual look that fit her better. Her face was clean of all but a touch of subtle makeup. She looked like she always did. Casual. Comfortable. Beautiful.

"Hi." She shoved her chin up and pushed her shoulders back, meeting his gaze with a look so full of steel he could envision her across from him at a conference table, trying to seal a multi-million dollar business deal.

"Hey," he said, voice hoarse. He swallowed around the rock that had suddenly taken form in his throat.

"Do you see me?" she asked.

He frowned. "Of course I see you."

"I mean, do you really see me?" She glanced at the floor before looking back at him. "I need you to understand, Ian. I was glitzy and glamorous last night. But that's not me. That was a fantasy. This is me. I'm not glamorous or beautiful or—"

"Bullshit."

She blinked. "Pardon?"

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Lizzy." He closed the gap between them and took her hands into his. "I don't care if you're covered in a bright dress, blue jeans, or those old Winnie the Pooh jammies you used to sport."

Her face reddened and she opened her mouth, but no sounds sprang from her so he plowed ahead. "I don't care if you're wearing make-up or not. I don't even care if you ever wear a drop of the stuff another day of your life. You're beautiful, inside and out." He cleared his throat. "And I'd be the luckiest man in the world if you'd give me the chance to show you how much I care about you—no matter what you're wearing."

She tried to speak a couple of times, but kept shaking her head, gaze firmly affixed to their hands. Finally she said, "I can't believe you'd bring up those pajamas right now!"

A laugh almost choked his tight throat. She looked back at him, hazel eyes serious and full of emotions he couldn't name.

"I love you too, Ian. I love you so much. I always have."

He cried out, a call full of happiness and love, and picked her up in his arms. She squealed as he swung her around in a full circle. Then he set her back down in front of him. Laughing, she wiped furiously at her eyes.

"I'm going to make you happy," he promised, rubbing away the moisture from her cheeks softly with his fingertips.

"I know you will." She smiled.

And then he kissed her.

* * *