His smile is slow and very sexy, and I sigh when he kisses me softly. Then he looks at the clock. “It’s midnight.”

“Do you turn into a pumpkin?”

“Best not to find out,” he says. “Sleep tight, Ms. Fairchild. You are truly a fantasy made real.”

Damien slides out of bed. He pulls on his slacks and shirt, then walks back over and kisses my cheek. “Thank you for a lovely weekend.”

And then, before I can even process this new twist, he strides to the door, tugs it open, and disappears.

I roll over to his side of the bed, wanting the warmth from his body and the scent of his skin.

Alone.

Except I’m not. And tomorrow I’ll be going home.

Tomorrow, everything I’ve had in play will be mine for real again.

With a sigh, I pull the sheet up higher and snuggle against Damien’s lingering warmth. And as I drift off, I can’t help but think that I am a very lucky woman.

—

The next morning, Jamie is back in her bedroom in the suite. Ryan left on an early morning flight to LA, a fact that Jamie shares with me over a huge room service breakfast of omelets and bacon, waffles and hash browns.

As soon as we’ve devoured enough food to fuel an entire NFL team, we retreat to our bedrooms to pack, a task we both manage in record time. We each have reason to want to get back home as soon as possible. Jamie back to Ryan. And me back to the man who is both my husband and my friend. My fantasy and my reality.

We don’t bother calling a bellman since neither Jamie nor I brought more than a rolling bag. But we do have to call the front desk to let them know that we are ready to leave so that someone can bring a limo around.

Edward is no longer in Vegas, having made the drive back to Los Angeles after dropping us off. But there is no shortage of Starfire limos, and one will soon be whisking us home.

“Unless you’d rather go by helicopter,” I say to Jamie, who looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Um, no. Flying freakish death trap. And loud. Besides. We must drink. And recap.” She frowns. “Or just recap. I’m not sure my head can stand more alcohol.”

I laugh. “A limo it is.”

Ten minutes later, we’re wheeling our bags through the lobby and then to the valet stand under the portico. I raise my hand to catch the attention of the valet, but he has already seen me and is signaling our limo to pull up. As soon as it does, he opens the back passenger door for Jamie, who climbs in.

I am about to follow suit when I glance over and see Damien approaching. I smile broadly in greeting.

“Checking out, Ms. Fairchild?”

“I am. Time to go back to the real world.”

“I hope your weekend was memorable.”

My lips twitch. “Oh, it was. Very much so.”

“I wanted to give you this before you left.” He hands me a business card. Damien Stark. That’s all it says. And beneath it is the number from which he has been calling me.

I look up, curious, and see the playfulness behind his eyes.

“If you ever feel the need to call. For any reason, any time of the day or night, Ms. Fairchild. Don’t hesitate.”

“I won’t,” I promise. “It’s been a very interesting weekend, Mr. Stark,” I add with a smile. “I’m very glad you bought me that drink.”

He takes my hand, then kisses my palm. “Safe journey,” he says, then helps me into the limo.

I slide inside and get settled. And as soon as he closes the door, I sigh.

“Okay,” Jamie says. “That was seriously fun.”

“It really was,” I agree.

“We should totally do it again sometime.”

I run my finger along the edge of the card I’m still holding and silently agree. But then I slide the card into my purse and pull out my phone. And as the limo turns onto the Las Vegas Strip, I hit the button to speed dial Damien’s usual cellphone.

“Mrs. Stark,” he says, without missing a beat. “I think it’s time for you to come home.”

I smile. “So do I,” I say. “I’m on my way.”

And then I lean back in my seat and shut my eyes, feeling happy, content, and loved.

FIND YOUR HEART’S DESIRE . . .

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