Kate pressed her face into the pillow and bit back a scream. With a sigh, she raised her head. The red numbers glaring like angry eyes from her alarm clock read four thirteen.

Two minutes since the last time she’d checked.

She whimpered. Fatigue stung her eyes. Bits of the nightmare lingered, like a residue clinging to her skin. She fought the urge to get up and take a cleansing shower.

Sleep. She needed to sleep.

Outside her window, the Manhattan skyline glowed over the darkened expanse of Central Park. She focused on a lit window in an apartment building across the park, imagining forbidden lovers meeting for a late-night tryst. And the window next door? The light was out, but maybe someone inside lay awake, struggling for sleep just as she did.

An idea sparked, and she reached for the notebook beside her bed. She scribbled a few rough lyrics, then collapsed against the pillow, spent.

Her eyes closed, and her body relaxed against the cool silk sheets.

Music shattered the silence like a shout in the darkened room. She lurched upright as the haunting opening bars of Aerosmith’s “Dream On” played from the cell phone flashing impatiently on her bedside table. She grabbed it. Vero’s name showed on the display, accompanied by a photo of a Chihuahua baring its teeth.

Middle-of-the-night phone calls from her publicist were never good news. She groaned and flopped back in bed as she connected the call.

“Katie, what are you doing awake at this hour?” Vero sounded wide awake herself despite it being after one in LA.

“Why are you calling me at this hour?”

Vero chuckled. “Expecting your voicemail, for one thing. But since you’re up, the Examiner’s running a headline on you this morning. They got a picture of you smoking pot behind your old high school.”

She pressed a palm to her forehead. “What?”

“Check your email. I sent it to you.”

“Okay.” Reluctantly, she pushed the covers back and stepped from the warm cocoon of her bed.

“Two negative headlines in a week, Katie. You need some good publicity. Maybe a PDA with the professor or a promotional piece doing something charitable for the community.”

“I don’t live my life for the tabloids, Vero.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you start. We’ve got to turn things around before voting for the Fans Voice Awards nominations closes.”

Kate recoiled. While she was still in a solid position for a nomination, she’d fallen to third place in the polls, behind up-and-coming pop sensations Marin Starr and Kelsey Hunt. Her fingers clenched around the telephone. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She disconnected the call and trudged downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water, loading her email as she went. Goose bumps rose on her arms as she sat at the counter, chilled by the morning air in her wispy silk tank top and boxers.

A photo loaded on her screen of Kate in her red cheerleading uniform, smoking a joint behind the bleachers by the high school track. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced back the bile that had risen to her throat at the sight of herself in that uniform.

This photo was the real deal.

Not one of her finer moments, but what high school student hadn’t gotten high a few times? It wouldn’t have been a big deal if it didn’t come at the end of a very unflattering week of headlines. She walked to the window and looked out. Beneath the night sky, lights glowed across the city as other New Yorkers got an early start to their day.

The city that never sleeps. She could personally vouch for that.

Ben nuzzled his way between her feet to paw at the glass door to the balcony. She reached up to deactivate the security system before opening the door to let him and Jerry outside. They scampered to the other end of the balcony where she kept a patch of grass for their convenience.

A siren wailed somewhere in the distance, and a puff of cold air blew across her skin. She shivered, closing the door while she waited. The boys weren’t out long and had soon run upstairs to snuggle back into bed.

Kate followed them up. She found them on her pillow, two cream puffs against the lavender silk. She bent to ruffle their fur. Having given up on sleep, she traded her pajamas for a sports bra and athletic shorts, then exited her condo and jogged up the stairs to the gym on the top floor. She spent thirty minutes on the rowing machine, burning her frustration.

Then she showered, dressed, and got ready for what she’d thought would be the only unpleasant part of her day. At nine o’clock, she sat face-to-face with Lori Booth. Harry sat to her left, his face open and gracious. To her right, Jenn was poised and ready for action.

Lori sat on the chair opposite, cheeks flushed, eyes bright—though with anger or hurt feelings, Kate couldn’t be sure. She suspected her own expression was much the same. Lori’s timing made her suspicious as hell. Her so-called sister had shown up the same day the nude photos hit the internet, and now the photo of her smoking pot on the day of their meeting? Kate didn’t believe in coincidences like that.

“So.” Lori leaned back, tension rolling off her in waves.

“It should take about a month to receive the results of the DNA test,” Harry said. “Once we’ve received them, we can determine the next steps.”

Lori’s chin went up. “I’m not after your money.”

Kate sucked in a breath. They didn’t resemble each other on the surface. Lori’s chestnut hair and brown eyes were the opposite of her own. But there was something in the set of her chin, the rounded bump that bridged her nose. In that moment, she had no doubt she was facing her sister. Her own flesh and blood. She saw something of herself in Lori’s eyes, the same fire and determination that had carried her through when all else failed.

If you’re not after my money, then what do you want?

An awkward moment passed, during which Kate was torn between the desire to acknowledge the woman she now believed to be her sister or run screaming from the room, unable to bear another reminder of her tortured past.

“How did you find me?” she asked instead.

“I found this when I was going through his things.” Lori reached into her purse to produce a photo, which she passed to Kate.

Kate looked down at the photo. She saw a cherubic blonde toddler in a pink tutu embraced by a tall, handsome man with dark hair and a warm smile. Her throat tightened. She flipped the photo over to read the scrawled print on the other side: Kate and Daddy.

Her mother had kept enough photos for Kate to recognize herself in the round-cheeked, smiling girl in the photo, as much as she knew the man to be Wade Rynes, her father. She drew a deep breath and steadied herself.

“I knew he was from Connecticut. Woodbridge,” Lori continued. “I combed the high school yearbooks until I found you.”

“But my name—”

“Was different, I know. But trust me, the high school secretary I spoke to was more than happy to fill me in on who you were…if I couldn’t have made the connection myself once I saw your class photo.”

Kate sat back in her chair and stared Lori down as her suspicions deepened. So, Lori had been poking around at her old high school recently. That was convenient, since both rounds of photos to hit the tabloids this week were from Kate’s high school years. What she didn’t understand was why. Did Lori begrudge her success? She hadn’t seemed angry when they first met, not until Kate denied knowing Wade Rynes to save face in front of the watching paparazzi. But she wouldn’t ask, couldn’t ask, until she knew Lori was on the up-and-up.

“It’s not that we mistrust you, Ms. Booth,” Harry said. “Please understand that for a woman in Katherine’s position, she faces people of questionable motive relatively often. We just need to confirm—”

“Yes, I understand.” Lori’s eyes burned into Kate’s. “I’ll be flying home to North Carolina tomorrow. I’ve left my contact information with your manager.”

With that, she stood. Lori threw one last glance over her shoulder, then strode from the room, leaving Kate both weak with relief and burning with regret.

---

Josh stood with his back to the restaurant, idly watching the stream of people passing by on the sidewalk. Tosca was one of his favorite restaurants, a place he’d visited often since moving to the neighborhood two years ago.

He enjoyed the food and the atmosphere and…hell. Bringing Kate here was a terrible idea. He was sure to get inquiring looks from Sal, the owner, since this would be the first time Josh dined here with a date. Let alone a date with someone as memorable as Katherine Hayes.

Bringing Kate anywhere was a terrible idea, but somehow, she kept overriding his common sense. Gabe had made sure Josh saw the photo on one of those gossip blogs of him and Kate outside her building on Friday. The blogger had drawn a big circle around Josh’s head and inserted the caption “Katherine’s Mystery Man.”

It was only a matter of time before someone he knew saw it and put two and two together. He tugged at the collar of his shirt. When he decided to date again, he didn’t need the whole world following along. He’d enjoy dinner with her tonight, but this had to be the end of it.

As for their bet, Kate didn’t stand a chance. When she pulled up to the curb in that shiny Mercedes with her personal chauffeur, he doubted she’d make it in the front door before being asked for her autograph.

There was no way she was paying for dinner tonight. None.

“Boo.” It was a whisper in his ear, so close, he felt the warmth of her breath.

He spun to find Kate standing behind him, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans, a wide smile on her face. She wore minimal makeup, her hair pulled back in a simple braid. A turquoise blouse added a splash of color to her appearance.

“Where did you come from?” he asked, his voice gruff as he fought the urge to touch her, to kiss her.

“Anton dropped me off around the corner.”

He leaned forward, staring at her more closely. “Brown contacts. You really think that will do the trick?”

Her eyebrows lifted, and her grin widened. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

“Or are your contacts blue, and this is your natural color?”

She clucked her tongue. “My, you’re skeptical. These are contacts.”

She hooked her arm in his as they walked toward the entrance. The breeze carried her perfume over him, toying with his senses. He’d driven himself nearly crazy since Saturday, imagining what it might have been like if he’d kissed her in the park. What she tasted like, how she’d feel in his arms. Hell, he’d dreamed about a lot more than that.

Which only cemented his decision not to kiss her. Paparazzi or not, he absolutely could not allow himself to fall into a romantic relationship with this woman. She was outgoing and passionate, filled with a love of life he no longer felt. She likely loved with the same intensity she lived, and Josh had nothing to offer in return.

They stepped through the door into the restaurant. Lindsay, the hostess, looked up with a smile, glancing from Josh to Kate.

Kate walked over to a painting of the Italian countryside, one of many that adorned the walls of the restaurant. “This is amazing.”

“Sal’s grandfather painted them,” Lindsay told her.

“He’s very talented. Is Sal the owner?”

“He is. Table for two?” Lindsay looked at Josh.

He nodded. Lindsay picked up two menus and led them down the hallway, through a series of interconnected dining rooms to a booth near the back.

Kate winked as they sat, and he frowned. Lindsay hadn’t given her a second glance. No one had. The truth was, she blended damn well, and he was in trouble. He’d sooner sell a kidney than let her pay for dinner, let alone in a place where everyone knew him.

“You come here often?” Kate asked.

“Couple times a month. Why?”

“The hostess has the hots for you.”

“What? Lindsay? I don’t think so.”

“Aha, so you’re on a first-name basis. Yes, and I’d guess you usually come here alone. You didn’t notice the look she gave me?”

“What look?” He rubbed a hand through his hair. What was she talking about? And how did she know he usually came here alone? He rested his elbows on the table. “I’d like to renegotiate the terms of our bet.”

“Oh?” She cocked her head to the side.

His gaze slid to her neck and lingered on the bare skin exposed there. “I’m paying for dinner. Name your new terms.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Anything I want?”

Josh could feel his pulse pounding as he nodded. He was headed for nothing but trouble, playing games with a woman like Katherine Hayes.

She leaned closer. “If I win, you kiss me good night.”

He straightened in his seat. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said, still watching him closely.

He was staring at her mouth, her pink glossy lips. A quick kiss as they parted ways. He could handle that, right? No, he wasn’t sure that he could. But then again…

“And if I win?” His voice sounded like he’d swallowed sandpaper.

She leaned even closer. “You won’t. But name your stakes anyway.”

He faltered. His stakes had been to pay for dinner. Now that he’d been an idiot and taken things further, his imagination had run dry.

“Yes?” Kate’s eyes burned into his, only inches away.

His heart beat wildly against his ribs. “I take you home. No chauffeur.”

Take her home? That was worse than kissing her. If tonight didn’t scar him for life, maybe he’d be wise to let Lily set him up next time. Obviously, he had no idea what he was doing on his own.

She tipped her head with a coy smile. “Before or after you kiss me?”

Their waitress chose that moment to introduce herself, saving him from an answer. Kate winked, sinking back in her seat. He ordered a bottle of wine while Kate studied the menu without attracting more than a passing glance.

He could have asked for her opinion on the wine, drawing the waitress’s attention to her. But truthfully, he didn’t want her to be recognized, didn’t want a repeat of the fiasco at Bóheme. He just wanted a nice, normal dinner. Further evidence he hadn’t thought this through. Why had he ever agreed to a stupid bet?

In keeping with her disguise, she chatted about everyday topics like her dogs and the new Native American art exhibit at the Met. She peppered him with questions about his job, his upcoming triathlon, and his family, while Josh laughed inwardly to think he could tell Lily that her name had indeed come up on his second date with Katherine Hayes.

As they talked, his gaze drifted from her lips to the way her fingers absently stroked the stem of her wineglass. Desire curled warm and tight inside him. By the time they’d finished eating, he was in agony, and the way things were headed, he was going to have to kiss her good night. It had almost been too easy for her.

“Josh, I heard you were here tonight.” Sal appeared at their table, robust and red-faced in a gray suit, his tie slightly askew. “And who’s the lovely lady?”

Josh leaned back with a smile. Maybe not so easy for her after all.

“Kate.” She extended her hand with a friendly smile.

“Kate, this is Sal Diorio. He owns Tosca,” Josh told her.

“So you do come here a lot.” She glanced at Josh before returning her gaze to Sal. “You have a lovely restaurant. The food was excellent, and the paintings? I heard they were done by your grandfather. They’re fantastic.”

“Thank you.” Sal beamed with pride. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

Josh smirked. Here it came. He received a swift kick under the table while Kate continued to smile sweetly at Sal.

She shrugged. “People say that all the time. I must have one of those faces.”

“Right. Well, I’ll let you two get back to your meal. Dessert’s on the house. It was lovely meeting you, Kate.” Sal’s eyes twinkled.

“Likewise,” she said, as charming as ever.

When he was out of sight, Josh bent to rub his shin. “Ouch.”

“You were about to give me away with your ‘cat ate the canary’ grin.”

“He recognized you.”

“He did not. And unless you have anyone else you’d like me to meet before we leave, I’d say things are looking pretty unfavorable for you.”

“Indeed.” Dammit, he was staring at her mouth again, and she was watching.

She sat back with a satisfied smile.

“So, I take it you’re not into pop music. Who do you listen to?” she asked, as they shared a slice of tiramisu courtesy of Sal.

He shrugged. “Dave Matthews Band, some classic rock, Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Who.”

She nodded. “Good music. Dark Side of the Moon is one of my favorites when I’m trying to get the creative juices flowing. DMB too. Dave’s a good guy. I’ve met him a few times.”

Josh shook his head. “Of course you have. So, what about you?”

“You might be surprised to know I don’t listen to pop music either.”

He tilted his head. “You’d be right.”

“Well, not much of it anyway. I do have a bit of a girl crush on Madonna,” she said with a grin. “I listen to a lot of classic rock too. Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, Mötley Crüe. And I have a fondness for Latin music. Buena Vista Social Club, Ibrahim Ferrer, Celia Cruz, Tito Puente. Blues, hip hop, dance, I’ll listen to just about anything.”

He leaned forward, ridiculously turned on by her taste in music. “You are full of surprises.”

She winked. “You have no idea.”

After paying the check, he rested his hand on the small of her back as he guided her out of the restaurant. They stood on the sidewalk, facing each other. “So.”

She looked up. “So.”

He cleared his throat. This was awkward. There was no sign of her driver, nor had he seen her call for him. Josh had come on the subway. He could call them a cab, but the deal had been for him to drive her home if he won, which he hadn’t…

She stepped closer. “I forgot to tell you something important.”

“What’s that?” His pulse raced. God, she was close enough now that all he’d have to do was—

“I never lose,” she whispered.

Mere inches separated their bodies. He could feel her body heat and smell the intoxicating scent of her perfume, like fresh flowers dipped in honey. His head lowered almost against his will, while need seared through his veins, burning him up from the inside out. Kate sucked in a breath as their eyes met. His lips brushed hers. A jolt shot through him like something inside him had just awoken after a long hibernation, something primal and raw.

Their mouths met, lips moving, teasing, tasting, and he could have sworn he heard music playing, or maybe it was just the rhythm of his pulse pounding in his ears. It was too much and not enough and absolutely perfect all at the same time. He lifted his head, every cell in his body screaming with the need for more. More…

She sighed, then leaned forward to kiss him back. Her fingers trailed over his chest, and just like that, his control snapped. His hands slid up her back, dragging the elastic from her hair and tangling in its depths. Her lips parted, and his tongue slipped into the heat of her mouth.

Yes.

She made a soft sound of arousal that shot straight to his dick. He sank his hands into her back pockets, anchoring her against him as their tongues danced with a hunger that bordered on desperation. There was nothing but the feel of his mouth on hers, her breasts pressed against his chest, and the runaway pounding of his heart.

Finally, Kate pulled back, her chest heaving, hair disheveled. She cocked her head and gave him a sly smile. “So, I guess you’re not a sore loser.”

He struggled to catch his breath. Thank God she’d kept her wits about her, because he sure as hell hadn’t. He’d completely lost track of the fact they were standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk, just steps from the entrance to Tosca. He pulled her in for one last kiss, then turned toward the street behind them. “I’ll call us a cab.”