“It was a joy to have you here, Celia. I can’t wait to see you again.”

Lucy drew away, beaming at Celia the entire time, and Celia felt like the lowest form of pond scum for her part in deceiving this woman.

“Oh, look, there’s Evan with your drink. I’ll disappear now and let you two get back to your fun.”

Lucy blew a kiss in Evan’s direction and melted back into the crowd.

“What was that all about?” Evan asked as he approached.

He handed her a wineglass and stepped in close, their bodies touching.

Celia grimaced. “She was telling me how wonderful she thought it was that we’re getting married.”

“Ah, well, that would explain the look of torture in your eyes.”

He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He stared down into her eyes, and then he simply kissed her.

Stunned that he would be so public, even when perpetuating a hoax, she stood there in the circle of his arms while he kissed her senseless.

Desire unfurled and spread rapid fire through her belly. All he had to do was kiss her and she was helpless to do anything more than respond.

“You know, we have late check-out,” he murmured against her lips. “Very late check-out. My jet can leave at my ready. What do you say we go back to the room?”

No. They needed to return home. She needed the weekend to be over so she could recover her sanity.

But instead of no, she opened her mouth and whispered, “yes.”

The predatory gleam was back in his eyes. He put both their glasses down on a nearby table and then he took her hand and all but dragged her from the reception. They ran down the hallway to the elevator like two hormonally imbalanced teenagers.

When they reached the room, he threw open the door, swung her into his arms and carried her straight to the bedroom. He plopped her down on the bed and stood back as he tore out of his clothes.

She leaned up on one elbow to stare appreciatively at his physique.

“You know,” she said coyly. “There is one of your fantasies we haven’t played out yet.”

His eyebrows shot up and then he crawled onto the bed until he loomed menacingly over her.

“Oh, really. Which one?”

She circled her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Then she slid her mouth to his ear to whisper in shocking detail exactly which fantasy she was talking about.

Evan’s plane landed in San Francisco close to midnight. He helped her down the steps onto the tarmac and stood next to her as they waited for his car to pull forward.

He touched her cheek, pushing aside a stray strand of hair. In truth, she looked and felt disheveled from head to toe. What had started as a quick interlude had turned into an afternoon of wanton, hedonistic pleasure. They’d made love more times than she could count.

They’d stumbled out of the hotel looking like a pair of illicit lovers hurrying back to their spouses after a hot weekend affair.

She shook her head to clear that notion. There was nothing dishonorable about her liaison with Evan. It was separate from business, she asserted firmly. Separate.

“Are you sure you won’t let me escort you home?” Evan asked.

He glanced between her and the car that was now parked a few feet away, and his lips were drawn into a fine line.

She shook her head. “No, you still have to fly back to Seattle, and it’s already past midnight. I’ll be fine.

Your driver will take good care of me.”

He looked as if he was going to press the point when she raised her hand. The diamond caught the glare from the headlights. Slowly she removed the thin band from her finger and pressed the ring into Evan’s palm.

“I won’t be needing this anymore,” she said lightly.

He frowned as he stared down at the delicate piece of jewelry lying in his hand.

It was ridiculous that this felt like a real break-up. Her heart seized and she had the absurd urge to snatch the ring back out of his hand and put it back on her finger.

She leaned up on tiptoe and brushed her lips across his cheek. “Goodbye, Evan. Have a safe trip home.”

She turned and allowed the driver to usher her into the backseat. As they pulled away, she saw Evan standing in the same place she’d left him, his hand closed around the ring. They stared at each other through the window until the car got too far away for her to see him any longer.

Twelve

Evan tucked his hand into his pocket to touch the diamond engagement ring Celia had given back to him the night before. His finger ran over the edges, took it out and let it lay in his palm to catch the light.

For a long while, he stared down at it before closing his hand over it. As his driver pulled to the curb in front of Maddox Communications, he shoved the ring back into his pocket.

Celia wouldn’t be expecting him. Hell, he wasn’t expecting him. To be here, that is. He was supposed to have flown back to Seattle. He had any number of issues to deal with including talking to his team about Noah Hart. They needed to come big with an offer, and they needed to make sure any offer they made was tied up neatly with a big bow.

Yet, here he was, getting out at Celia’s building because he wanted to see her again. And business had nothing to do with it.

He instructed his driver to find suitable parking and to swing back around when he phoned to say he was ready. Then he headed into the stately building to take the elevator up to the sixth floor.

When he stepped off, he was immediately impressed with the very modern, “in touch” feel of Maddox Communications. There was a lot of attention given to comfort, and it worked, because he felt relaxed.

Two large-screen plasma televisions were positioned on either side of the large reception desk, and Maddox’s latest ad campaigns were predominately displayed in a series of commercials.

Behind the desk, a cheerful looking younger woman smiled a warm welcome as he approached.

“Good morning and welcome to Maddox Communications.”

He returned her smile. “Can you tell Celia Taylor that Evan Reese is here to see her?”

The sudden awareness in the receptionist’s eyes told him she knew well who he was. She recovered quickly, though. With brisk efficiency, she rounded the corner of her desk and gestured toward the set of couches in the waiting area.

“If you’ll have a seat, I’ll get her at once. Would you care for some coffee?”

“No, thank you.”

She turned to stride down the hallway, leaving Evan standing there. He walked to the window to look down on the street instead of sitting. If he had his way, he wouldn’t be here for long anyway.

A few moments later, he heard the tap tap of heels and turned to see Celia approaching, a confused, wary look in her eyes.

“Evan,” she greeted. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. I thought you were going back to Seattle. Is anything wrong?”

She’d put her impersonal business face on the moment he looked up. It annoyed him that she was pushing him away, already distancing herself from the weekend they’d shared. It should be him doing the pushing. He should have gotten her out of his system after making love to her more times than he could count.

But he hadn’t, which was why he found himself standing here, trying to come up with an excuse to see her again.

“Nothing’s wrong. My plans changed. I thought we could have lunch. If you’re free, that is.”

She checked her watch, a quick, nervous motion that told him she was merely stalling—and trying to think of an excuse why she couldn’t.

“I would very much like to have lunch with you, Celia.”

Her forehead wrinkled in indecision. She nibbled at her bottom lip. He took advantage of that moment to move closer until he crowded her. Before she could take a step back, he grasped her arm.

Alarm flared in her eyes, and she broke the contact, stepping hastily away as she stared wildly in all directions.

“For God’s sake, Evan, not here,” she hissed.

Her hand trembled as she raised one to smooth her hair. Instead of repairing the knot, she only managed to work more strands free. They fell down her neck, calling attention to the slim column. He was reminded of all the time he’d spent nibbling at that sweet flesh.

He raised an eyebrow at her vehemence but kept his distance.

“Lunch?”

“All right. Let me get my purse. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Her dismissal rankled him. He was used to calling the shots when it came to women and relationships.

Hell, now he was thinking of her in terms of a relationship? The only thing he should be thinking was how quickly he could get her back into bed so that hopefully this time he’d get rid of the burning ache he felt when she crossed his mind.

Crossed. What a funny word, one that denoted an occasional, unintentional meeting. She lived in his

mind. He didn’t like it, didn’t particularly care for the implication, but he was powerless to rid himself of her assault on his senses.

He stared at her for a long moment, and only because he was convinced she was ready to bolt, did he acquiesce.

“All right. I’ll call my driver around. Oh, and Celia. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Celia spun around before she exploded. She wished she could blame it all on her anger and his arrogance, but she’d been flabbergasted when Shelby had rushed into her office to tell her Evan Reese was here and he wanted to see her.

The giddy thrill that sizzled down her spine annoyed her. And then his arrogant presumption that she’d drop everything to have lunch with him. He didn’t like to be kept waiting. Who did he think he was?

She sighed as she collected her purse. Where to even begin? He was an important client. The most important client of her career. And then there was the fact she’d acted as his fake fiancée, and oh yeah, she’d slept with him. Repeatedly.

A hot blush shot up her neck and nearly burned her cheeks off as she remembered just how often they’d had sex. They’d re-enacted all his fantasies and some of hers, too.

They’d been insatiable.

Hell and damnation but she’d expected several days to recover from the weekend before she had to see him again. In her utter befuddlement and not to mention being blown over by the sex, she hadn’t even mentioned the season opener to Evan.

It was as good an excuse as any to accompany him to lunch. At least then she could pretend it was all about business.

After a quick wave to Shelby, she rode the elevator down to the first floor. She passed the busy American cuisine restaurant with the lunch crowd lined up at the door and exited the building.

Evan was standing at the curb, one hand resting on the open door to the backseat of his car, the other shoved into his pocket. He looked positively arrogant. Like he not only belonged in the world but owned it.

He nodded as she approached and motioned her inside the car. Then he slid in beside her and shut the door.

“I thought we could eat at this restaurant I know across town. It’s small and not so well-known, but the food is excellent and it affords privacy.”

He looked at her almost like the last was a challenge.

She tilted her chin up and stared coolly at him. She hoped that she looked as unruffled as she wanted to portray.

“Is this business, Evan? Why did you come to my office today?”

His mouth tightened briefly before he relaxed and eyed her with thinly veiled amusement.

“We slept together, Celia. I don’t think lunch is that scandalous given that fact.”

She curled her fingers into tight fists. She wanted to close her eyes and moan her dismay. No, she doubted he’d understand why it was so important to her that there be no hint of impropriety between them. He was the type who’d never let what others thought rule his life. She hated that evidently she was the type. Hated it but couldn’t change it.

“Evan.”

She stopped when her voice cracked. She felt like the worst sort of idiot. Around others she had no problem being blunt—and forceful when the occasion called for it. But with Evan, she was ridiculously tongue-tied.

“Yes?” he prompted.

He wore a curious smile, almost as if he found her and the situation amusing. It made her angry.

“We can’t do this. We simply can’t. This weekend was a huge mistake. I don’t want to be one of these women who say no, no, no, and then yes, yes, yes and then spend the next week castigating myself for my weakness. I shouldn’t have slept with you. I swear, I left my brain behind when we went to Catalina.

I knew what I was getting into. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame you or think you manipulated me into having sex with you. I’m a big girl and I knew full well what I was doing. It doesn’t make me any less stupid, mind you.”

Evan simply hauled her into his arms and stifled her tirade with a kiss. Not just any kiss. He devoured her whole. She melted—positively melted—in his arms. She went limp against him.

Yep, she was one of those silly women at the mercy of her hormones.

She placed both hands on his chest and shoved until they sat apart, both breathing raggedly. She probably looked demented sitting there, hair askew, chest heaving up and down as if she’d run a marathon.