“Maybe I can be calm too.”

“Good. Tell me when and I’ll let you go.”

“Jesus.” She half smiled. “Why do I always feel like an unruly child when you’re acting so—well… adult.”

“It’s probably just that I’m older. And—”

“You’ve been fucking way longer.”

His lashes dipped in acknowledgment. “Maybe that’s it.”

“I suppose you’ve done this a couple thousand times,” she said with a small grimace. “I try not to think about that too much.”

“I wish you wouldn’t think about it at all. Although,” he said with a small smile, “it’s better that we’re not both beginners.” A flash of amusement lit his gaze. “At least I know how to entertain you—right?”

He smiled at her reluctant nod.

“And seriously, baby, I really like your go-for-broke personality. I’m not knocking it. I’m just trying to keep our problems to a minimum. Okay?”

Another grudging nod.

Dominic dipped his head and held her gaze. “So are we done with this tug of war?”

“As long as this isn’t one of your games, Mr. I’m-in-Charge,” she said fretfully.

“I wish it were. I’m just being practical.”

“As always. Isn’t that your motto with women?”

“Not with you—never with you… which is the problem. Look, it’s only a few hours and admit it, you don’t want—well… unintended consequences any more than I do. Right?”

She didn’t immediately answer. “I suppose,” she finally said with a rueful grimace. Then she sighed softly. “Yeah, you’re right,” she added, flushing slightly as she acknowledged his good judgment. “And I don’t mean as usual so don’t get a big head.”

He smiled. “Thank you. I won’t.” Dropping a kiss on her knuckles, he released her hands. “Now let me find something to get you through the night.”

A lift of her brows. “You have toys here? Why didn’t you say so before and we could have avoided all this bullshit?”

This wasn’t the time to point out to her that he had offered her alternatives. “Because I don’t have toys here, that’s why,” he said instead.

“Really?”

“Really.” He didn’t elaborate because he didn’t want any discussion of toys that might bring up memories of the Garden House video. “I should be able to manage a substitute of some kind to make you happy.”

Her sudden smile was the familiar one he remembered from their many arguments. The wide-open, cloudless smile that instantly beguiled. She never held grudges; she didn’t even much care whether she won or lost once the controversy was over. “How do you do it?” she murmured, running her finger along his jaw in a small possessive gesture he would have found objectionable in any other woman. “You’re always stay überreasonable when I’m freaking out. Thanks too—about well—the unintended consequences issue. Really. I’m grateful.”

“You’re not alone in being unreasonable.” He smiled. “I have my moments too.” Like monitoring her activities the last month. “Now, can you wait a few minutes while I scope out some toys?”

“What’s a few minutes?” She grinned. “No pressure.”

He smiled. “You tell me.”

“Five.”

“Ten. This is a big house.”

“Eight.”

“Nine.”

She glanced at the bedside clock. “And counting.”

“Do I get a prize if I come in under the limit?” But he was already halfway to the door.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do that or maybe I won’t give you a choice, maybe you’ll have to—” Whether promise or threat, the door shut on the rest of his sentence.

Dominic returned in record time to find an empty bedroom. The doors to the veranda hadn’t been opened. Katherine wasn’t likely to be playing hide and seek; the corridor had been empty. That left his dressing room. Dropping the items he’d found on the bed, he strode toward the closed door.

Quietly opening it, he stood on the threshold of his dressing room and felt a chill run up his spine. Kate was halfway down his wardrobe wall, several doors left open behind her; she was currently flipping through his neatly hung shirts. “Could I help you with something?” His voice was ultrasoft.

She swung around, his long robe brushing the floor. “Sure you could,” she said softly, smiling.

“I meant could I help you with something in here.” He’d never considered himself gullible. This might be a first.

Another smile. “Here’s fine.”

He didn’t smile back. “What are you looking for?”

“Women’s things. With your track record at the Garden House, I’m inclined to trust but verify. Maybe you’re not the only one with control issues.”

He felt his muscles relax, felt a profound sense of relief—dicey issues of trust resolved. “You—controlling? That could be interesting.”

She shot a quick glance over her shoulder as she turned back to the wall of closets. “Call it morbid curiosity if you like; this is what I do in my line of work. Look for things: clues, patterns, details that don’t make sense in the grand scheme of the universe.”