The color brought out my eyes and contrasted nicely with my long hair, which I curled and left loose. As I stood in my bedroom, surveying the results in the mirror, I caught sight of my jewelry box.

I opened it, eyeing for several long moments the sapphire pendant and earrings Blane had given me. They would go much better with the dress than the gold locket I was wearing.

Hesitantly, I removed the locket, setting it carefully aside before I added the sapphire jewelry. I felt odd, as though somehow I was betraying Kade.

The doorbell rang and I shook off the feeling, slipping on a pair of navy heels before going to answer the door.

It was déjà vu, opening the door to see Blane filling the space. His suit looked as fresh and polished as it had hours earlier. Light glinted briefly off one cuff link as he pushed his fingers through his hair and smiled wide enough to show the dimple in his cheek. The white of his teeth gleamed in the dusky light.

“You look . . .” He shook his head, as though any adjective he might use was inadequate. His voice trailed away as his gaze swept me from head to toe and back, lingering briefly on the pendant nestled in my cleavage. Appreciation and lust gleamed in his eyes, which, I decided, was compliment enough.

“These are for you,” he said, handing me a bouquet of red roses.

Surprised, I automatically took them. It had been a long time since Blane had brought me flowers. Their heady fragrance was divine and I buried my nose in the velvety depths.

“Thank you,” I said, stepping back to let him in. I went to the kitchen and reached for the cabinet above the stove for a vase.

“Here, I’ll get it,” Blane offered, and I had to suck in a breath.

He was standing right behind me, so close I could feel the brush of his body against mine as he stretched up to retrieve the vase. My hormones kicked into high gear and I bit my lip hard. Whatever problems Blane and I had, they’d never been in the bedroom, and my body was forcefully reminding me of that fact.

Blane took his time getting the vase down, his hips pressing lightly into my backside as he moved, then he gently set the vase on the counter and took a step back. I couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose, or if I was imagining things.

I arranged the roses and added water to the vase before grabbing my purse.

“Ready?” Blane asked.

“Ready,” I said too brightly.

He opened the door and I stepped through, not at all sure if I was ready for my non-date with Blane.

CHAPTER TWO

That feeling of déjà vu got stronger as Blane took me to the first restaurant we’d ever been to together. Now, though, he knew of my distaste for stools and we were led to a booth instead of the bar area. It was on the top level in a cozy corner.

“Good evening, Mr. Kirk.”

It was even the same waiter we’d had that first time, I realized, my eyebrows climbing.

“Evening, Greg,” Blane said. “I’d like a Dewars and water, please, and the lady would like . . .” His eyes were on mine as he said, “The lady would like a manhattan.” The hint of a smile tugged at Blane’s lips.

“You remembered,” I said, somewhat surprised. Bourbon wasn’t usually my drink of choice, but it had been what I’d ordered that night.

“Of course I do,” Blane said, settling back in the chair. “You were suspicious of me, and wary. And every time you evaded my questions, my curiosity grew tenfold.”

“You can hardly blame me,” I retorted with a grin, blushing. “I’d seen you go through women the way you go through ties.”

“Not anymore,” he replied, his voice soft. “Not after you.”

My blush grew warmer and I had to look away from his intent gaze. Picking up the menu, I pretended to look it over, though I didn’t really read a thing printed on it.

“And just so we’re clear,” Blane said, “I’m taking you to dinner, so order what you want.”

He hadn’t bothered with the menu, probably because he already knew it by heart.

“You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” Blane interrupted. “I want to.”

Greg came back with the drinks, and after a moment’s hesitation I ordered the scallops. Blane ordered a steak and added a shrimp cocktail appetizer.

Blane loved good food and when the appetizer was set between us, he dug in. I watched with too much interest as his long fingers dipped a shrimp and carried it to his mouth.

“You have to have some,” he insisted, dipping another piece and offering it to me.

I reached to take it from him, but he pulled it back.

“Uh-uh,” he said, a teasing note in his voice.

I lowered my hand and he held the morsel out again. My eyes narrowed. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Blane quite so . . . playful before.

Giving a mental shrug, I leaned forward and let him feed me. The cold seafood combined with the heat of the sauce on my tongue, but it seemed I barely tasted it at all, too consumed was I with how Blane was watching me.

“Did I ever tell you about when I beat up James that first time?” he asked out of the blue.

I shook my head, recalling all too clearly how furious Blane had been when he’d seen the bruise on my face from when James had hit me.

“Well . . .” he began, settling back again. His fingers toyed with his drink as he told me the story of ruining James’s golf outing, provoking a fight so he could kick his ass, and managing to get James thrown out of the club. By the time he’d finished the story, our entrées had arrived.

I laughed as Blane described his feigned outrage that’d had the club’s manager falling all over himself apologizing for James.

Blane kept me entertained and laughing all through dinner, ordering a bottle of wine when our cocktails were empty and making me split dessert with him. When we finally left the restaurant, I was pleasantly tipsy and in a better mood than I’d felt in weeks.

I wasn’t too steady climbing the stairs to my apartment, and Blane kept his arm locked firmly around my waist as I giggled my way to the door. When I reached it, I leaned my back against the wood with a sigh.

“I had a nice time on our non-date,” I said with a smile.

Blane braced his hands on either side of my head as he leaned into me. “Me too,” he said. His eyes gleamed in the dark, the corners of his lips tipping up ever so slightly.

His cologne was a faint trace of scent now and I inhaled greedily.

“You smell nice,” I breathed, then realized I’d said that out loud. Maybe I was a bit more than tipsy?

“So do you,” Blane replied, his body moving closer to mine. The deep timbre of his voice washed over me, doing funny things to my insides.

Blane’s tie caught my eye. It dangled between us, the knot slightly loosened at his neck. I reached up, the silk soft between my fingers, and tugged.

Blane needed no more urging and I whimpered when his lips met mine, heat flaring between us immediately. He tasted of wine and his own unique flavor. My hands pressed against the hard planes of his chest, creeping up to wind around his neck until my fingers were buried in his hair.

My mind was a complete blank, thoughts incoherent as Blane’s mouth moved to skate down my neck, nipping and sucking until my blood was on fire. I tugged at his hair and he obeyed my silent request, his lips returning to mine.

His body was pressed against me, his hands spanning my waist, and the hard length of his erection prodding my abdomen made the flesh between my thighs ache.

Light flooded the terrace and I blinked in the sudden brightness. Blane pulled back, his body protectively shielding mine as he glanced around.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alisha said, peering out her door. Bits was in her arms. “I was just taking Bits out for his evening toodles.” Her voice said she wasn’t a bit sorry and the look she gave me had a flush creeping up my neck.