I slid into the passenger seat, sighing as the cool, conditioned and sandalwood-fragranced air washed over me. Lord, he always smelled so good. I slammed the door with a flick of my wrist. When I turned to Royce, I noticed he was staring at my belly in openmouthed astonishment.

As I'd requested, he was wearing a hat, sunglasses and even the fake beard. He was also wearing yellow-pink-and-blue golf pants and a yellow T-shirt. The sight of him made me go all weak and needy inside. He looked so cute, and he'd done this for me. Just because I'd asked. How sweet was that?

"What the hell is going on?" he choked out. "Is that some kind of hint?" He pointed to my puffy belly.

"We're going to follow my stepdad, and I didn't want him to recognize me. Did you bring the camera?"

"It's in back." Brow furrowed, Royce reached under my skirt and smoothed his hand up my calf, my thigh, and onto the pillow.

I gasped at the sudden liquid heat pooling between my legs. Before I begged him to go ahead and give me an orgasm while he had his hand up my skirt, I slapped his arm away. "Stop that."

"I had to feel for myself."

I cleared my throat and pulled at the collar of my dress. "Yes, well, thank you for rearranging your schedule for me, but I wish you'd worn jeans or something. Everyone will notice those pants."

"I had no idea what we were doing. You hung up on me, remember? Besides, the pants go well with the beard and your, uh, belly."

I had to clear my throat again. Shifting in my seat, I rattled off my parents' address. "We need to hurry. Jonathan always leaves the house at eight-thirty."

Minutes later, Royce and I were speeding along the highway.

"I could hire a P.I. to follow him," he suggested, keeping his eyes on the road.

"That's not necessary. I'm perfectly capable of catching him in the act." Plus, it was horrible of me to admit, but I was taking a perverse sort of satisfaction in doing the investigating myself. I hadn't done anything like this with Richard. I hadn't had the courage. So, in a way, this was kind of like therapy for me. And Jonathan was big on therapy.

"Naomi," Royce said, then stopped himself. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand and massaged his neck with the other.

"What?" I stiffened. He'd sounded… upset. "Tell me."

"Remember that trip to Florida I mentioned? I'm flying out tomorrow. I'll be gone for a week."

I immediately began to analyze the situation, last night's quiz replaying through my mind. If your man goes out of town, what would you do? Did I want to throw a party? Cry? Or take up a new hobby? I was pretty certain I wanted to go with B, like Kera, and cry like a goddamn infant. I frowned, my lips pulled down so tightly my jaw began to ache.

"You want to come with me?" he asked.

Yes was the answer that first leapt to the surface. "No. No, thank you." I did want to grab him by the shirt and command him to stay. After all, a true Tigress knew how to fight for what she wanted and keep what she won. The thing is, I had never really fought for Royce, which meant I hadn't really won him. I'd all but pushed him away.

What if Royce found another woman in Florida?

What would I do then? The quiz hadn't given simple answers for that question, but I suspected I'd do more than cry. You have told him over and over you want no claims on him. Damn non-relationships. They sucked ass.

Chapter Fourteen

Turn your back, and you will be attacked. Guard yourself constantly. Never relax. Not even while you're alone. At any moment a Tiger, or even another Tigress, could be planning your demise.

Jonathan left the house right on schedule, and Royce and I were right behind him. Mom's eavesdropping proved accurate; he didn't go to his office.

He drove to Nora's.

"That blatant bastard," I growled, reaching for Royce's digital camera.

Nora answered the door wearing jeans and a tank top. Her eighties hair was ratted at her temples, and she wore enough makeup to send a cosmetic company's stock through the roof. She didn't kiss Jonathan when she saw him, but she did hug him and step aside. I snapped a few pictures of Jonathan entering the house.

"That isn't his sister, I take it?" Royce asked.

"His secretary."

"Not all men are like that, you know."

I snorted. "Can you prove that?" Without waiting for his answer, I pushed my way out of the car. I stalked toward the small but well-maintained house. I heard another car door slam, heard Royce mutter under his breath, and knew he was following me. It was a workday, so most of the neighborhood residents were gone. No one was mowing their lawn. In fact, the only person out in the open was a young woman on a morning jog.

I smiled hello to her, rubbing my belly to show her I was merely an innocent pregnant female having a nice stroll, and continued on my path to the house, the camera gripped tightly in my hands. I didn't go to the front door, but stalked to the nearest side window.

A dog barked and growled, the sound so menacing I jumped and whirled around, my gaze darting in every direction. There, behind the chain fence, was a Chihuahua. He continued to bark and growl at me.

"Shut up, or you'll be breakfast," I whispered fiercely.

His ears flattened, but he went silent. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned my attention back to the window. The curtains were lacy and split down the middle. By pressing my eye to the glass, I had a perfect view inside. Unfortunately, the living room was empty.

Had those horny cheaters already adjourned to the bedroom?

"I can't believe you're doing this," Royce said from behind me. "I can't believe you dragged me into this."

"I can't believe those two don't even have the willpower for a conversation before jumping into the main event. And dragged you? Please."

Just then, Nora rounded a corner, Jonathan close at her heels. "Wait," I said. "They're coming this way." Nora carried three clear bottles filled with…oil? I gasped. "Those sick, perverted shits. I think they're going to massage each other."

"Come on, sweetheart. You don't need to see that." He tugged on my arm, but I resisted.

"Oh, no. I'm not leaving."

The couple sat on the couch at the far wall, facing me, and I snapped several pictures through the lace curtains. Nora held up one of the bottles and Jonathan sniffed. His nose wrinkled and he shook his head. Nora rubbed some on her arm and he sniffed again. They repeated the exact same action with the other two bottles.

I watched as Jonathan ran a hand through his hair, his expression frustrated. His mouth was moving, but I couldn't hear what he was saying.

"Uh, sugar bottoms," Royce said. "I think we need to go."

"Not yet. They're about to do something. I can tell."

"Sweetie. Maybe you didn't hear me. We need to go."

"Just a min-"

"What are you two doing?" a scratchy female voice snapped.

I whipped around. In my haste, my camera slapped against the window glass with a loud clang. An elderly woman wearing her bathrobe and rollers stood in front of us, her hands on her hips. Her wrinkled eyes were narrowed and her lips were pulled taut. My heart almost leapt out of my chest. I stood frozen, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do, only knowing that at any moment Jonathan and Nora were going to come sprinting out of that house.

"Nora!" the old woman called. "Nora, get out here. You got peepers."

"Run," Royce shouted. There was laughter in his voice. He grabbed my wrist and we took off in a mad dash.

I was hooting with my own half hysterical, half disbelieving laughter as I grabbed my hat to keep it from flying off my head. My belly bounced up and down with every step.