Parker c.o.c.ked a brow at him. "You do realize she's my daughter."

"I realize it. I just don't think you do." Michael got up and strode out. He took a deep breath when he was outside. The crisp fresh air was cleansing. It almost got the bitter taste out of his mouth.

He needed to talk to Olivia. He needed to tell her what her father was up to and break it off with her.

He reached into his pocket and rubbed her locket.

He knew she'd hate to be a p.a.w.n, and frankly he couldn't jeopardize his future. He'd fallen into Parker's trap. He was so caught up with this thing with Olivia that he couldn't focus on anything else, much less the movie.

He had to get free of Everett Parker. He knew she'd understand that and why they couldn't see each other.

He crossed the street and opened the door to Romantic Notions. He paused in the doorway, waiting for the delicate fragrance of the store to hit him. Lavender? It seemed more than that, simple and sweet but complex at the same time.

Like Olivia.

"This is a surprise."

Michael looked up to see Olivia gliding toward him. She wore a tiny red leather skirt, her long luscious legs were encased in sheer black stockings, and her black shirt had the top few b.u.t.tons undone. She stopped close enough to him that he caught glimpses of the black lace underneath.

Closing his eyes, he prayed for strength.

He felt her hand on his arm. "Michael, are you okay?"

Okay? He wanted to push her against the door, and slide his hardening c.o.c.k all the way into her. He wanted to hear her gasp and laugh. He wanted to have the right to hold her hand and kiss her whenever he wanted.

He opened his eyes and saw concern in her warm eyes. He'd never noticed how rich and chocolaty they were. He should have known that.

How was he going to tell her they had to call it quits?

"Michael?" Her lips were the same red as her skirt-deep, f.u.c.k me red.

"Aw h.e.l.l," he muttered and gave in. He brought her flush against him and lightly bit her lower lip before angling his mouth to hers. She gasped into his mouth and melted against him, her hand working its way under his jacket.

He released her just as abruptly. Her lipstick was smeared and she gazed at him through lowered eyelids.

She cupped his jaw and rubbed around his mouth with her thumb. "This shade of red just isn't you."

The huskiness of her voice made his gut clench. "I don't know. I think it suits me."

She gave him a look he couldn't decipher and stepped back. "I didn't think I was going to see you this morning. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He didn't know what caused her to draw away from him, physically as well as emotionally, but he didn't like it. He pulled her closer because he needed her there. "I missed you," he said, surprised to realize it was true.

She thawed noticeably. "Don't you have to be on the set?"

"I had a meeting between scenes."

Her brow furrowed. "Out here? Who was the meeting with? Parker?"

This was the perfect opportunity to tell her. It was practically an invitation to dump it out. All he had to do was open his mouth and tell her they couldn't see each other anymore because her father was manipulating them to ensnare him for the rest of his creative life.

He opened his mouth and said, "Just a small issue. It's not important."

Olivia smoothed the tension in his temples with her fingers. "Well, if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

"Thanks." He smiled, hating himself for not being honest with her.

"I have to get back." She waved toward a customer in the back, who was covertly gawking at them.

"Right. I have to get back to work too." He dropped a kiss on her lips, lingering longer than he intended. "Have dinner with me tonight," he whispered against her.

He loved the way her mouth curved under his. "Okay."

"I don't know when I'll be done."

"Okay."

"And it's not like any restaurants in Marin will be open that late."

She laughed softly. "I'll take care of dinner. Just call me when you know what time you can come over."

"Wear this outfit." He brushed her cheek. "Later, baby."

He exhaled deeply after he closed the door behind him. That didn't go exactly as he'd envisioned. He looked back at Romantic Notions. Parker knew his quarry. Michael was royally screwed.

Chapter Twenty-four.

Hands on her hips, Olivia glared at the clock. Where was he? She paced her room, careful not to tread on top of the picnic she'd laid out on the floor.

Pathetic. She dropped onto her bed. Here she was, still wearing her work clothes, waiting for some guy she didn't trust to show up.

Okay, he wasn't just some guy. He was the love of her life.

"Former love of my life," she corrected herself. This fling was going to cure her of their past.

And-d.a.m.n it-she wasn't waiting any longer. Bending, she plucked a grape from the picnic and began to unb.u.t.ton her blouse.

The window slid open and Michael's head popped in. "You're late," she said curtly.

"I know. And you're angry, but I'll make it up to you." He swung his leg over the frame and closed it when he was all the way in. "Nice outfit."

She crossed her arms across her chest.

He strode to her, took her in his arms, and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry I'm late. I had a good reason."

"What?"

Michael dug in a jacket pocket. "I needed to stop to get this. You wouldn't believe the trouble I went through to get it. I thought it'd be an easy stop at the drugstore but I had to stop at four stores before I found what I was looking for."

She looked at the hand he held out. Nestled on the center of his palm was a small yellow duck.

"Your rubber ducky." Michael smiled at her but it was tentative and reminded her of the Michael of her youth.

"A rubber ducky," she repeated.

"For your baths."

"I gathered."

"I got this too." He pulled out a small mason jar from another pocket. He didn't make a move to touch her, but the heat from his eyes was more tangible than any touch would be. "Chocolate sauce. I craved dessert."

Her smile widened into a grin. Taking the two steps to close the distance between them, she put her hand on the nape of his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair, and kissed him soundly.

She heard the soft thump of the jar dropping onto the bed and in the next second his arms were around her, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.

He lifted his head. "Not angry at me anymore?"

"Depends." She nuzzled his neck, her lips lingering over the spot where she could feel his heart beating so strongly.

"On?"

"How good the chocolate is."

He grinned and steered her until the backs of her legs. .h.i.t the bed and she toppled backwards onto it. "I think the chocolate is going to be the best you've ever had."

"That sure, are you?"

"d.a.m.n right, baby."

She loved the way he ate her with his eyes. She scooted back and stretched. Crossing her legs, she wiggled her foot to draw his attention to her high heels and stockinged legs. She'd never figured out why men loved stockings and heels so much-probably because they didn't have to wear them-but she'd gladly use them to her advantage.

She moaned as he slipped off her shoe and rubbed her foot. His thumbs worked out the tightness from wearing the shoes for too long.

She moaned again. "Heaven."

He moved on to her other foot. "We might have to make you more comfortable before I go on."

"I'm yours to command."

"I never have a tape recorder when I need one."

"Don't push your luck." She prodded him with her foot. "More."

"Exactly."

She watched his hands as they unb.u.t.toned her dress shirt. He did it slowly, drawing it out until she waited for each b.u.t.ton to pop open with her breath held. His hands never brushed her body. Her nipples tingled with need and she had to keep herself from arching up to make him touch her. "Are you doing that on purpose?"

"What?"

"Trying to drive me crazy."

"Is it working?"

"h.e.l.l yes."

"Good." He pushed her shirt open, running the back of his hand down her neck to the top of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and then down her abdomen to brush over her lacy thong. "There are advantages to owning a lingerie store, aren't there?"

"I have an a.r.s.enal, and I'm not afraid to use it."

"Thank G.o.d for that," he said fervently before he peeled the bra straps down her arms. "Help me with this."

She reached behind her and unsnapped it. He pulled it off her and tossed it across the room. Her panties quickly followed.

Olivia lifted her right leg to roll her stockings down but Michael's hand stopped her. "No. Leave that."

She raised her brow but didn't argue. She was much more intrigued with what he was going to do with the chocolate in the jar he'd retrieved and was uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g.

She arched when she felt his fingers drag down the center of her chest. She caught her breath as he added dobs on top of each nipple. Each deliberate stroke chocolate stoked the fire he'd started with the first kiss.

Olivia gasped, clutching the comforter under her. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"I can stop."

"I'm not sure that would be any less painful."

"Then how about if I do this." He bent his head and licked up her belly all the way to her neck, following the line of chocolate he'd painted on her. "Delicious," he murmured against her throat.

"I'm going to die." She groaned and speared her fingers in his hair as he laved a particularly sensitive spot on her throat.

He chuckled. "You always did love that."

She did? He did it again. Yep, okay, she believed him. Even if she couldn't remember.

He dipped his head and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking until all the chocolate had to be dissolved and gone and then sucking some more. It felt like an eternity before he moved onto her other nipple, which was taut and begging for his attention.

"My turn." She lifted her hips and rolled him over so she was on top.

"But this is my fantasy."

"Deal with it." Reaching for the jar, she dipped her index finger inside and smeared a long line down his cheek to his mouth and throat. She paused, staring at the spot under his ear where his pulse beat and wondered if he'd be as sensitive there as she was.