“Great job, kiddo,” Pepper said when Rylie came bounding over after the kindergarteners had finished their song selections.

“I sang loud.”

Uhhh. Yes, this was true.

“You sure did, sweetheart.” Samantha held out a jacket. “You cold?”

“No. I want ice cream!”

Samantha smiled and tucked the jacket under her arm. “Okay.”

Rylie squealed and ran outside of the auditorium. She seemed to have already scoped out the ice cream situation because she sprinted directly to the tables where bowls and cartons of deliciousness were set out.

Whipped cream. Cherries. Sprinkles.

Faster than Pepper thought possible, Rylie had a bowl full to the brim and was pounding ice cream like a champion competitive eater.

And just like someone shoving down sixty-something hot dogs, Rylie’s face went green.

“I don’t feel . . .”

Samantha reacted to Rylie’s tone in a heartbeat, snagging the ice cream and tossing it into a trashcan before having Rylie take a few deep breaths.

“My tummy—”

She heaved.

Samantha brought the can in front of Rylie’s face so quickly that the Flash would have been impressed.

Deftly, she caught her daughter’s hair and rubbed her back gently.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she murmured. “Do you think you’re finished?” she asked when Rylie stopped.

A nod.

“Okay then, let’s get you home.”

Samantha tucked the jacket around Rylie and tugged her close to her side. Rylie was crying softly, apologizing between sniffles.

“It’s okay, honey.” Samantha gave an apologetic smile to Pepper. “We need to go.”

“Do you need any help?”

Samantha shook her head. “We’ll be too fine. Too much ice cream too quick.” She started shepherding Rylie back toward the parking lot then stopped all of two feet later. “Shoot. I forgot to grab my bag from the classroom. I left it earlier and I need—”

Rylie moaned.

Samantha hesitated. “Forget it. I’ll grab it tomorrow.”

“I can get your bag,” Pepper said. “Just tell me where it is, and I’ll bring it by later.”

“I don’t want you to—”

“Mom,” Rylie said pathetically. “I want to go home.”

“It’s okay,” Pepper said. “Let me help you.”

Samantha bit her lip.

“I’ll go with her.” Derek.

Pepper wished she could say that she’d forgotten he was there. Except that would be a lie. Her body knew whenever he was close. He was the gold coin on the beach, and she was the metal detector. A low level beep-beep-beep always in the background.

And that beeping was growing louder.

His chest was close to her back, his voice brushing her ear. She shivered.

Samantha glanced between them and smiled. It was the first happy gesture Pepper had seen on her friend’s face since her conversation with Brian.

“Room seven.” She rifled through her purse and extracted a set of keys, tossing them at Pepper without warning. “It’s the blue key.” Pepper reached for them, somehow managing to catch the set or, rather, bobble with it long enough that Derek managed to snag it from her grip.

By the time she looked up, Samantha and Rylie were gone and Derek was smiling down at her.

“Room seven?” He held up the keys, blue one extended.

“Sure,” she muttered, knowing there was no point in arguing with him.

And he had the keys.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

She stopped, glared. “I’m not your sweetheart.”

Derek was unaffected. “We can stand here all night, or we can get your friend her bag.”

Pepper sighed. But she turned in the direction of Samantha’s classroom and started striding across the blacktop.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

The kiss? Her father? The fact that she was attracted to him. Ugh.

“No.”

“How about why you were late to watch Rylie?”

Now that question made her stumble. Okay, stumbling wasn’t unusual for her. She couldn’t blame her klutziness on words, but she sure as hell could blame it on Derek startling her.

“I overslept.” Which was the truth. Or rather, a version of it.

Pepper wasn’t ready to share what she’d been spending her days (and nights) doing. She felt raw inside, knew it was too soon for her to tell if it was actually something.

If, for once in her life, she wasn’t screwing something up.

Derek studied her. “You’re not lying.”

She stopped, plunked her hands on her hips. “And you think you know me so well that you can tell when I’m lying?”

He smiled, dimples popping out to wink at her and no—dammit, no—her stomach didn’t tremble the slightest.

Not in the slightest.

“Yes.” He raised one brow, daring.

“I’m a virgin.”

His mouth dropped open. He took a step toward her, tripped, and had to throw his arms out to steady himself.

“What?”

Thank you, sir, she plucked the keys from his hand and walked away.

Or tried to.

A hand on her waist stopped her, pulled her back against a hard chest. His spicy scent surrounded her and his heat soaked through the thin cotton of her blouse.

Derek leaned close, hot breath puffing against her neck. “What do you mean I’m a virgin?”

She almost moaned, only stopping the sound by biting her tongue.

Hard.

“You’re a virgin?” she asked in mock-surprise. “I never would—”

“Pepper.” Her name was ground out, masculine frustration mixed with something else. Concern?

Drip. Drip. Drip. There went her barriers against him. Melting. Disintegrating into useless puddles of nothing. Why did he have to act concerned? “Let go,” she hissed. “There are kids around.”

“Where?” Derek murmured. He gripped her hips, slowly turning her in his arms until she faced him. His eyes were hot.

“We’re alone,” he said. “So, no, I’m not letting you go. Not unless you really want me to.”

Pepper’s breath caught, and she glanced away, to the empty hallway, lights dimmed, walls decorated with bright construction paper projections, a line of cubbies along one side. Anywhere but Derek’s gaze.

Because she didn’t want him to let her go.

“Pepper.”

And suddenly there was nowhere but Derek’s gaze. He watched her, intensity clouding the space between them, almost palpably coating her skin. She squeezed her thighs together when a bolt of heat arrowed downward.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

His eyes flicked down then back up. To her eyes. To her mouth.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” One hand cupped her jaw, angling her head. “We’ll talk later.”

“I—”

His lips slanted across hers. She dropped the keys.

A Disney song.

His kiss was a ballad at the end of a Disney film, lips touching, fireworks exploding, side characters breaking out into applause.

Her knees actually felt weak, but for once, falling wasn’t an issue. Derek had her.

He had her.

Panic gathered in her toes, the slightest little tapping of her foot against the floor. It spread up to her legs, her torso, her arms and hands, unclenching her fingers from his hair. Finally, it reached her brain and the emotion was a brand. A hot poker that had her wrenching her mouth from his.

“I-I can’t,” she said, chest heaving.

Derek’s breathing wasn’t any steadier. “Why not? Why can’t we have some fun while we’re both stuck here?”

She bent and picked up the keys from the floor. “Putting aside the fact that you’re babysitting me for my father, that”—she waved a hand—“is exactly the issue.”

“What is?”

Pepper shook her head as she walked over to the locked classroom. “That you want just fun.” She inserted the key and turned the handle. “I don’t do casual sex, Derek. And I definitely don’t mess with my dad’s lackeys.”

He trailed her into the room. “I’m not—”

“You’re working on a project with him. That’s why you’re here.” When he didn’t reply right away, she turned and walked toward Samantha’s desk. “You don’t have to answer. I already know.” A sigh. “It’s the only reason . . .”

“Reason?”

She snagged Samantha’s bag and tossed it over her shoulder. “Look Derek—”

“I’d have to be an idiot to not want you.” He took the bag from her.

“I can carry—” She sighed and forced herself to not argue about the stupid satchel.

Pepper was glutton for punishment. She knew she wasn’t a troll. She was fit—somehow despite her chocolate and wine addiction—and had a pretty face. But it was the rest of it. All the rest of it.

The infamy. The disasters in her wake. The overbearing dad.

“Tell me you’re not here only because of the contract with my father.”

“I—” He cursed, shoved his free hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”

Her heart sank even though she knew it shouldn’t—she’d warned the damn organ after all.

“It is that simple,” she said. “You wouldn’t be here if not for a project. My father has you over the barrel.” She crossed to the door and flicked off the lights. “I get it. No hard feelings. My father has a lot of pull in Hollywood, and I know you’ve left the law firm.”

“Pepper.”

“If you want to get a movie made, he’s your man. So I won’t make it difficult for you. You can babysit me. Just don’t spout bullshit about how beautiful I am or how I’m so hard to resist.”

“I—”

“Come out so I can lock up.”

Derek sighed but walked from the classroom. “That’s not how it is.”

She locked the door and turned to face him. “Then tell me precisely how it is. You wouldn’t benefit from a relationship with me? My father didn’t push you into anything? I’m suddenly the woman of your dreams?” She brushed past him. “Two truths and a lie. And I damn sure know the lie.”

When Derek was silent, Pepper shook her head. “Just leave it be. No more kissing. We’ll play nice until the wedding, and then you’re off the hook.”

She yanked the bag from his hand and began walking down the hall.

“I never knew you to be so jaded.”

A shrug. “One could say that you never knew me at all.”