“So, uh, how about tomorrow? Lunch? One o’clock?”

“Yes, great. Sure. Anywhere.”

“My assistant will call. I have to run. See you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said. “I love you.” But she had already hung up.

JESSICA JUMPED out of the cab and adjusted her skirt as she hurried toward Dan’s apartment. She was late. Again. Poor Dan. So patient. And he hadn’t once gotten on her case for tossing out her master plan like so much dross. In the last three weeks, she’d gone from seeing him once a week to twice a week to four times this week alone.

They’d grabbed a sandwich in her office. Eaten hot dogs from a pushcart. He’d cooked her dinner at her place twice, followed, of course, by two breakfasts.

He’d never said a word. Whenever they got together, they talked about her work, his work, Marla and Shawn, Owen’s disgrace, his family, her family…and the odd thing about it was that her work hadn’t suffered at all. In fact, if anything, he energized her. Unfailingly supportive, he understood the pressure of her new position, and he never complained when she had to take calls or change the schedule.

He’d gotten involved in a new project himself, which was as fascinating to her as it was to him. The new topic was the resurgence of subliminal advertising, debunked years ago, only to surface again in the age of the Internet.

She smiled at the doorman as he let her into the building, and took the slow elevator up by herself. Her heart beat faster as she reached his floor. But then, she’d come to expect that. Seeing Dan was the highlight of any day, of any night. She felt like a schoolgirl with a major crush every time she saw him, and tonight was no exception.

He opened the door with a smile so welcoming it gave her the shivers. God, he looked good. White oxford shirt, rolled sleeves, khaki slacks. His hair slightly disheveled and sexy as sin. She loved the way he looked at her. And when he kissed her hello, it was the same old thing: fireworks.

“You’re stunning,” he said, leading her into the apartment.

She smiled again as she saw the table, set beautifully with china plates, a hothouse gardenia floating in a brandy snifter and shimmering candles. “Thank you.”

“Success becomes you,” he said, folding her into his arms.

She rested her head against his broad shoulder. “It’s not success yet. But give me time.”

“Nonsense. No matter what happens at the job, you’ve already won. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and done it through hard work and brilliance. What’s not to like?”

She laughed. God, how he made her laugh. “I heard from Marla today.”

He pulled back so he could see her face. “Oh?”

“She and Shawn set the date. They want us to come to the wedding.”

“In Montana?”

She nodded. “Next month.”

“Should be fun. Can you get away?”

“For a couple of days, sure. I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

“Great. I can make it, too.”

“I haven’t told you the date.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. He folded his hand over hers. “I’m there.”

She sniffed the air, fragrant with the scent of rosemary and cinnamon. “What is that?” she asked. “It smells heavenly.”

He pulled out her chair, waited until she was seated, then headed toward the kitchen. “Chicken. One of my mother’s special recipes. Why don’t you pour us some wine while I get the food.”

She did, enjoying the mellow Pinot Gris. He came back quickly, carrying a covered casserole, which he put in front of her. When he took off the lid, she sighed with contentment. “It looks fantastic.”

He leaned over until his mouth was very close to hers. “So do you.”

She kissed him back, and before she knew it, she was standing again in his arms and the enticing dinner wasn’t nearly as appealing as getting her hands underneath his shirt.

He had his own agenda, and his was the more daunting task. She had on a jacket, a blouse, a bra, skirt, slip, panties. And yet, somehow, by the time they’d shuffled into the bedroom, between kisses, giggles and gasps, she was down to bra and panties while he still had on his pants.

His hands moved toward her bra clasp but she sidestepped out of his reach. “Wait,” she said. “I want-”

He stopped her with a kiss. A long one, full of exploration and teasing. Distracting her just enough to undo her bra and slip the straps off her shoulders. It fell to the floor to join the rest of her strewn clothing, leaving her in high-cut bikini panties and black two-inch heels.

Dan stepped back, eyeing her from head to toe and back again. “Nice outfit.”

“Thanks,” she said. “How come you’re still wearing pants?”

He looked down, feigning surprise. “Damn. I wondered why I was feeling so constricted.” With a flourish, he undid his belt, his zipper, and after he stepped out of his jeans, he kicked them across the room, leaving him in a pair of silk boxers.

“That’s quite a tent you’ve got there, mister.”

“I’m a big believer in camping. Now, why is it that you still have clothes on?”

“Ah, so it’s not just any camping. You like nudist camping.”

“And I’ve got all sorts of activities planned.”

She glanced at his big bed, which looked terribly inviting with the fluffy green duvet and the overstuffed goose-down pillows. “Basket weaving?”

He stepped closer to her as she slipped her panties down until they pooled on her bra. “Naw, too corny. I thought we’d learn about tying knots.”

Her head snapped up. “Oh?”

With a wicked grin he moved over to his nightstand and opened the drawer. He brought out two lengths of white rope. “Uh-huh.”

“Wait a minute…”

“You remember that question I asked you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I was going to do this after dinner, but I’m flexible.”

Her gaze stayed on the rope. It looked soft, but ropes? Being tied up?

He’d moved right in front of her, and his arms slipped around her back. “It’s going to be wonderful,” he whispered. “All you have to do is lie back and relax.”

“I don’t know about this, Camper Bob. I like to use my hands.”

“Which is a good thing. Just not tonight. Tonight, you’re going to be the pleasuree. Nothing but incredible things are going to happen to you. I promise.”

She looked up into his eyes, but she already knew that he was telling her the truth. He would never do anything to harm her. On the contrary, he was the most considerate lover she’d ever dreamt of. Which didn’t mean he couldn’t get all caveman on her. She liked that a lot. He was spontaneous and thoughtful, and man, he could go the distance. “All right,” she said, running her fingers down his back. “I’m yours. Do what you will.”

He tried for an evil laugh, but the effect was ruined when he kissed her. She felt the tent pole against her hip and it occurred to her that they probably should hurry.

He must have thought the same thing, because he led her over to the bed. She went to sit on the edge, but he stopped her, opting instead to lift her into his arms and place her carefully in the center of the king-size mattress.

Once she was there, naked, vulnerable, he lifted her arms out to her sides, toward the posts.

Her heartbeat quickened as he tied her wrist, making sure that the bond wasn’t too tight, but that she couldn’t escape. She tested it a few times, almost told him to forget it, but then she decided she had nothing to lose by experimenting.

As he tied her other wrist, she realized there had never been anyone in her life she’d trust to do this. And certainly no other man had made her this anxious and wet. She squeezed her legs together, but it didn’t help. Only one thing would.

She writhed on the comforter as he walked to the end of the bed. Smiling, taking her helpless body in with obvious delight, he shed his boxers. The “tent pole” was as stiff as she’d ever seen it, and she felt sexier than ever that she could have this effect on him.