“Sure, babe, whatever you want.”

“Lie down.” All business, she looped one of the nylons around his wrist, then tied it to the bedpost.

“You put your bra back on.”

Rachel grabbed his other hand. “I’m shy.”

“You know,” Devin said thoughtfully, “I never thought I’d say this, but I was kinda looking forward to old-fashioned sex for our first time…ouch. Maybe you could loosen the tension on that one.”

She yanked his trapped wrist against the post and double knotted the second stocking. “So you’re suggesting they’ll be other times, then?”

His eyes narrowed. “Okay, what’s really going on?”

Rachel clambered off the bed and glared at him. “This wasn’t something that just happened. You had every intention of seducing me tonight, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but you changed my mind and then…”

“And then?”

“Hell, I don’t know…you changed it back.”

With his arms tied to the bedposts above his head he looked like every Amazon’s idea of a human sacrifice, pagan, muscular and deliciously vulnerable. Furious at the direction of her thoughts, she bent and scrambled for her dress. “You’re pathetic.”

“Rachel, you know we’re about more than sex.”

Hand frozen on her dress, she barely registered his comment. There was a pair of red stilettos under the bed. Lying on their sides at right angles, as if they’d been kicked off in a hurry.

I haven’t had sex at all for over a year.

The son of a…Enraged, she picked them up and tossed them onto his washboard abs above the hip-hugging jeans, hoping the heels left a mark. “Next you’ll be telling me you’re a cross-dresser.”

She waited for signs of guilt. For shame. Devin looked at the shoes and started to chuckle. The chuckle grew into a laugh that shook the bed. He laughed until his head was rolling helplessly on his shoulders.

Tears prickled the back of her eyes. It was 1992 all over again.

Rachel picked up her dress and stepped into it, reaching behind her for the zip and jerking it up. It stuck halfway and she pulled harder. Nothing. She spun the dress around to the front.

Devin’s laughter subsided. With difficulty, he wiped his streaming eyes on his bare shoulder. “They’re my mother’s,” he said.

“Spawn of Satan don’t have mothers.” Rachel struggled with the tab. “And funny, isn’t it, that you’ve never mentioned her?”

“Why? I’ve never heard about your family… Untie me and I’ll help you with that zipper.”

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” The zip still wouldn’t budge. Her anger grew.

“Look,” Devin said reasonably, “I did my growing up in public. Every stupid thing I’ve ever done is documented. In rehab I decided the rest of my life is private. Mom’s why I’m in this godforsaken country. She’s been in hospital lately with a heart condition.”

“Old ladies with heart conditions don’t fling their shoes under the bed in a ‘I’m about to have wild sex’ kind of hurl.”

He started to laugh again. “Do you use that imagination in bed?” Infuriated, Rachel stopped wrestling with the zip on her dress and dragged down the one on his jeans. “I’m hoping that’s a yes,” he added.

“You think this is funny?” Her dress slipped and she made a grab for it.

“Rub some soap on the zipper,” Devin suggested. “C’mon, Heartbreaker, get my wallet out of my pants-there’s a picture of my mom.”

“I don’t care if there’s a picture of your family dog.” She yanked off his jeans and dumped them on the carpet, but lost her nerve at the boxers. “I’m leaving you here for room service to find in the morning. Maybe that will make you think twice before lying to seduce women.”

Devin started to struggle against his bonds. “Okay, this has gone far enough. Untie me right now.”

His panic was the sweetest revenge. “Maybe I’ll even ring the media. They love bondage stories involving celebrities.”

“I’m serious. Right now!”

“Go to hell.” Head held high, clutching her dress under her armpits, Rachel disappeared into the bathroom.

“If you leave me here, I’ll sue you!”

“I’ll settle the legal bill with what the tabloids pay me!” she yelled back. He heard the sound of cabinets and drawers being opened. “Where’s the bloody soap?”

Devin renewed his struggle. “As if I’m telling you!”

She slammed the bathroom door. He tried to reach the knots on his left wrist with his teeth but the librarian had strung him so tight he couldn’t get close. Just as well-he’d probably kill her if he got free right now.

“Devin.” A faint, familiar voice from the doorway wrenched him from his revenge fantasies.

“Mom,” he rasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I host the Coronary Club here Fridays.” As her fascinated gaze trailed over his bonds, he heard the sound of approaching voices, then several elderly women appeared behind her.

“Oh, my Lord, Katherine,” whispered one of them. “Is this one of your boys?” Everyone behind jostled for a look-see and within seconds half a dozen matrons stood at the end of the bed, checking him out with unabashed interest. And Devin discovered he did have inhibitions left.

He wiggled to try and lift the waistband of his boxers, which had gone dangerously low when Rachel had hauled off his pants, but all that did was draw the ladies’ attention lower.

“Anyone getting palpitations, leave the room,” said Katherine in a pained voice he recognized from his childhood. The one that usually preceded a grounding.

Devin cleared his throat to bring everybody’s attention back to his face. “It’s not what you think.”

The bathroom door opened and Rachel came out, rubbing a bar of soap on the zip of the dress, which was lowered to her waist. “The cabinet’s full of women’s toiletries. You’ve got quite a little harem going-” She looked up and gasped so hard, her lovely breasts threatened to pop out of her lacy strapless bra. Devin didn’t much like Rachel’s clothes, but her underwear was fantastic.

The expression on her face made her look like a Picasso: it was all over the place. He grinned suddenly. Okay, this was worth it. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” he suggested kindly.

Her grip convulsed on the soap, which popped free and flew across the room. The ladies followed its trajectory, then turned back to stare at Rachel, who was zipping her dress up as fast as she could. “I’m not a groupie,” she faltered. “I’m his librarian.”

“And this is a new approach to chasing overdue books?” suggested Katherine helpfully.

Devin waited for the moment Rachel’s eyes widened as she registered their resemblance.

Because, as any bass player knew, timing was everything.

Then he settled back on his pillows. “Meet my mother.”

His date squared her shoulders and held out her hand. “How do you do.” Then Ms. Grace-under-pressure crumbled. “You see, I thought he had another woman,” she explained, clinging to Katherine’s hand. “It was your shoes under the bed. They were kicked off as though…” Rachel finally realized she held his mother’s hand in a death grip and dropped it. “Well, my mistake.”

Color flooded Katherine’s cheeks as if she was having a hot flash. Except she’d been through menopause. A horrible suspicion dawned on Devin, becoming certainty when his mother flicked him a guilty look. His mouth tightened.

“Now who’s got some explaining to do?”