“Give me something to go on.”

“Just make it up, I’ll write it down and hide it somewhere.”

I looked up at him. “Max –”

He cut me off and said, “Three duchess three.”

I wasn’t certain but I was pretty sure I felt the blood draining from my face.

I didn’t shift my eyes from the screen when I asked, “Sorry?”

“Three duchess three, I won’t forget that.”

“But –”

“Type it in, babe.”

“But, Max –”

“Type it in.”

I sat there paralyzed and when I didn’t move Max leaned into me, picking out the letters on the keyboard with one finger then again to confirm then his hand covered mine on the mouse and he clicked “OK”.

His hand still on mine on the mouse, he twisted his head to look at me and he said, “That should do it.”

“I have to go,” I blurted and watched his brows draw together.

“What?”

I slid my hand from under his, rolled the chair away as he straightened and I stood, repeating, “I’ve got to go.” I held out my hand, palm up and requested, “Can I have my car keys?”

His brows were still knitted when he asked, “Where you goin’?”

“To town.”

“To shop?”

“To check into the hotel.”

He took a step toward me murmuring, “Duchess.”

I took a step back.

He stopped, his brows snapped together again and his face grew dark.

“What the f**k?”

“Thanks for, you know, today and last night and everything but, I have to go.”

“Why?”

Why?

There were so many reasons we’d both be eighty if I took the time to enumerate them all.

“I just do.”

“Give me a reason.”

“Max –”

“One,” he demanded firmly.

“Okay,” I said to get it over with, “maybe I’ve got it wrong, what’s happening here, but if I don’t perhaps I should remind you, I’m wearing another man’s engagement ring.”

“You don’t gotta remind me, Duchess, you gotta remind you.”

Oh drat.

I was getting angry, I could feel it.

“I’m sorry?” I said quietly.

“No woman had my ring on her finger when I got into bed with you last night.”

“Yes, well,” I leaned toward him, “I’m glad you brought that up.”

“Because you’re pissed I did it?”

“Yes!”

“Then why’d you wake up at two and stay in bed with me until mornin’?”

I stared at him at a loss for words mainly because any explanation I could give him I was never going to give him. And I realized, belatedly, even if it was to give him something as important as a rock solid alibi when the police popped by to question him as a potential murder suspect, perhaps I shouldn’t have shared that tidbit.

Then I announced, “I’m leaving,” and I started to walk around him but he took a quick step to his left and caught me by the waist, pulling me in front of him. “Take your hands off me!” I snapped but his arms wrapped around me tight, bringing me up full frontal to his body.

“This is something we both wanna explore,” he declared, my eyes narrowed and I wedged my arms between us, my hands against his chest.

“This?”

“What we got, what’s happenin’ here, you and me.”

“It is not!”

“No?”

“No.”

He looked over my head and clipped out, “Christ, you’re full of shit.”

“I am not!”

He looked back at me, giving me a shake. “Oh yeah, Nina, you are.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I know enough I wanna know more.”

“Well, you can’t know more. I’m leaving.”

“You’re stayin’.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“I can.”

“That’s –”

“And you wanna stay.”

I shook my head in disbelief and cried, “You’re infuriating!”

“And you love every f**kin’ second.”

My mouth made a “poof” noise at such a display of arrogance and I pushed against his chest. His hand slid up my spine, bringing me closer, pinning my hands between us as I watched his neck bend.

I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

“Max,” I warned, my body bracing.

“Quiet,” he ordered softly. “Got a point to make, honey.”

“Max!” I snapped.

“Let’s see how good this could be,” he muttered, his eyes on my mouth and I knew, I just knew, he was going to kiss me.

“Max, don’t you –”

But his fingers had sifted into my hair against my scalp cupping my head, holding me steady and his mouth came down on mine, cutting off my words.

And considering my mouth was open, he didn’t miss the opportunity to slide his tongue inside.

My body froze when his tongue touched mine.

Then my hands curled into his shirt and my body melted.

His tongue felt good, it tasted good, it was all just good. Not just good. It was better than good. I missed this, I loved kissing and, Lord, did I miss it.

My eyes drifted closed, my head tilted and that was it, I was lost.

And then Max really kissed me and I became so lost, I never wanted to be found.

It wasn’t good.

It was astounding. He was just as amazing a kisser as he looked amazing, maybe more, and that was saying something.

My toes curled in my boots, my hands glided up his chest to wrap my arms around his neck, my body pressed the length of his and my stomach did a somersault before it plummeted in a delicious way. I felt a tingle between my legs that was more than delicious, it was luscious and, given all of that, I had no choice but to open myself up to him.

And I did.

When I did, Max took and he took and he took. And I gave and I didn’t care if he drained me dry, in fact, I wanted him to.

His mouth broke from mine, his head came up, my fingers which were in his hair put on pressure and he whispered, his gravelly voice actually hoarse, “Jesus, honey.”

“More,” I breathed, not even opening my eyes and his mouth came back to mine, he gave me what I wanted and I loved every bleeding second.

Somewhere in the back of my head, I realized he was moving, taking me with him, shuffling us what I understood was toward the couch and I was happy to be going there, couldn’t wait to get there, couldn’t wait to explore Max more and let him explore me, when the phone rang.