She shrugged again and added an extra dollop. They were about to find out.

Rick squirmed in his seat. He needed to put the binoculars down. He knew any red-blooded man would be watching, especially when it was part of his job. For a PI like him, being a voyeur was second-nature.

Only in this case it was Olivia, and it felt wrong.

He cursed again. He needed to focus. He was here on business.

Rick swung his binoculars around, adjusting the k.n.o.bs so he could refocus on his subject.

Elaine Adams was slowly walking in circles around Olivia's grandmother's garden like it was some kind of labyrinth. At night, when it was freaking cold out.

Ms. Adams started back toward the house. Rick sighed in relief. If she was going in, he could pack up and go home, and then he wouldn't be tempted to intrude on Olivia's privacy.

But then Ms. Adams veered, heading toward Olivia's window.

A thread of unease unraveled in the pit of his stomach.

Maybe he was overreacting.

He grunted. "Right."

Sure enough, Ms. Adams stopped right in front of the brightly lit window. Anyone greeted with the scene of a mostly-naked woman smearing gunk on a mostly-naked man would stop.

In this case, watching wasn't an innocent thing. Rick could almost hear Adams take notes.

"s.h.i.t." He was surprised she didn't feel him boring a hole through her skin he was watching her so intensely.

He calculated the chances on this ending up in this week's Enquirer. "Fair to certain," he muttered, his hands tightening on his lenses.

What the f.u.c.k was Olivia thinking? Couldn't she have drawn the curtains? Of course not. Olivia was trusting. She'd never expect someone to be spying on her, waiting to sell her out. Especially not someone she'd taken under her wing.

Rick scowled as he watched Elaine Adams reluctantly leave the brightly lit window and go inside the farmhouse. Ms. Adams was going to regret taking on Olivia. He'd make sure of it.

Chapter Twenty-five.

The little burgundy bag on the floor taunted her.

It was now or never.

Lainie dumped out the contents of the Romantic Notions bag on the bed. With a deep breath, she resolutely pulled the white negligee over her head, letting it pool down her body like a whisper.

She turned around and gawked at her image in the mirror. She couldn't go out there in a transparent gown, no matter what Olivia thought. She slipped into the matching robe and looked at her reflection again.

Marginally better, but still awfully translucent. Was that the outline of her nipples?

She blushed, but one thing was certain: if Everett saw her like this, she'd know whether he was interested or not.

What choice did she have? Cower behind her desk for the rest of her life?

Shaking her head, she strode out of her room. She reached the kitchen and sighed when she saw it was empty.

Not bothering with the light, she went to the cupboard, pulled out a gla.s.s, and filled it with water from the tap. She downed it, wishing it was some of Everett's fine scotch instead. Filling it again, she drank a second gla.s.s, more slowly this time.

She rinsed her gla.s.s out and set it to dry. Well, she'd just have to try to run into him again tomorrow night.

She turned around and gasped.

Everett leaned in the doorway, arms folded. His face was lost in the shadows, but she could imagine his enigmatic look. She could feel the way his eyes took in her clothes, or lack of.

"I didn't hear you come in." She congratulated herself for the evenness of her voice.

He said nothing but kept watching her. He finally broke the silence. "You've changed your hair."

Her hand darted to her freshly styled head. "Yes."

He dropped his casual pose and stalked over to her. He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could see the way his pale eyes burned even in the darkness. He touched a strand of her hair, rubbing it between two fingers. "I've never seen your hair down."

"No, you haven't."

His eyes traveled down the length of her body. She shivered at the intensity and felt her nipples tighten almost painfully.

He pulled away. "If you're cold, you should take care to put something on your feet. Or wear something more substantial."

She gaped at him incredulously. "Everett Parker, for a man of your intellect and shrewdness, you are awfully ignorant. If you'd open your eyes and take a look at me maybe you'd see I'm not cold." She lowered her voice. "I've never been cold around you."

Satisfied at the way he was gaping at her, she turned to leave. But what had she accomplished? The loss of her job most likely.

She stopped in her tracks. She was not going to lose her job for nothing. If she was going to be unemployed, it'd be because she grabbed what she wanted most in life.

Him.

She whirled around and marched back to Everett. "Take me out to dinner."

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Take me out to dinner," she repeated through clenched teeth.

"We always go out to dinner," he said slowly, like he was trying to reason with a five year old.

She pointed a finger at his nose. "Yes, we always have dinner together. Several nights a week for the past seven years. But for once, I want you to take me to dinner. Just the two of us. Someplace romantic. Tomorrow night."

He stared at her, his eyes inscrutably blank.

Panic gripped her stomach. This was it-this was where he'd tell her she was delusional and that she should pack her bags and move to Siberia.

"Tomorrow night, then." He watched her for another long moment before brushing past her and disappearing down the hall.

Lainie covered her mouth with her hand and collapsed against the kitchen table, trembling, her body boneless. "Oh my."

She did it. She was going on an official date with Everett Parker.

Chapter Twenty-six.

His old bed creaked ominously when Michael dropped onto it. "Kill me now and put me out of my misery." He covered his eyes with an arm and tried to relax.

He couldn't, and it was Olivia's fault.

Where the h.e.l.l was she? He'd been trying to reach her all evening. He called her store but there was no answer. He'd called the farmhouse and left a message for her there. Then he'd called twice more. The knowing amus.e.m.e.nt in Granny Mae's voice prevented him from calling again.

He frowned at the Princess Leia poster still taped on the ceiling over his bed. He needed Olivia. The day had been h.e.l.l, and all he wanted was her drugging kisses and to feel her come apart in his arms.

He didn't want to think about where she might be. Only the force of his will stopped him from imagining her in Lurch's company.

His window squeaked.

Hope spiked in his heart. He looked over to see an elegant leg hike over the ledge, followed by the gorgeously striking face that haunted his dreams.

Olivia grinned at him. "That's okay. I don't need a hand."

He watched her, bemused, as she climbed in and closed the window behind her. "I didn't think I'd see you tonight," he said.

"I know I didn't call." She stopped abruptly. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No. h.e.l.l no." He rushed to her and pulled her close. As soon as he touched her, the tension faded and relief flooded into its place. He knew that should have worried him, but all he could think of was the way Olivia fit so perfectly into his body. In her heels, he didn't even have to bend down to kiss her. So convenient. "G.o.d you taste good."

Her lips curved under his. Instead of replying, she gave him more of herself. How did she know what he needed?

He gripped her tighter. "I'm glad you're here," he whispered against her lips.

She pressed her hips into his. "I can see that."

"More than that."

"Have a bad day?"

Suddenly the day didn't seem that bad. "I missed you."

She leaned back enough to look into his eyes. She smoothed his hair back and simply said, "Good."

He pulled her against him again. "I called you but I couldn't find you."

"You did?"

"Mmm." He nuzzled the side of her neck. "Your store and then Granny Mae's."

"I was out."

He pulled back and frowned at her. "That was vague."

She shrugged. "Girl business. If I told you I'd have to castrate you."

"You wouldn't like that."

"h.e.l.l no," she agreed fervently. "That's your best feature."

He laughed, running his hand through her long hair. But he stopped laughing when he felt something cold snap around his wrist. "What the-"

Before he could say another word, she captured his other wrist too. Michael looked down to find his hands securely cuffed. He tugged them apart. Real handcuffs, not chintzy fakes.

She pushed him back toward the bed until he toppled over onto it. She straddled him and took off her jacket to reveal a harlot red tank top. It was lace and see through and she wore nothing under it. "Can you handle it?"

"I'll certainly give it my best."

She reached over him and secured the cuffs to the bed with a scarf. Where she pulled the scarf from, he had no idea.

"What other tricks do you have up your sleeves?"

"I have no sleeves. Maybe you didn't notice." She stood up and shucked her jeans to reveal matching lace panties that sat low on her hips and showed the succulent curve of her a.s.s cheeks. Her belly b.u.t.ton piercing winked at him in the light.

He loved that belly ring.

"I hope you're taking notes," Olivia said as she climbed on top of him, sat on his thighs, and unb.u.t.toned his shirt.

"Notes?" he rasped. He could feel her heat through his jeans, which were uncomfortably restricting. He wanted to ask her to ease him out, but given her mood he was afraid she'd leave them on longer just to torment him.

"If you're going to break into someone's room, this is the way to make the most of it."

He swallowed a groan when her hand rested casually over his fly. "You aren't dressed like a pirate."

Her laugh was low and husky. "You always did have a thing for pirates. At least this time I get to be the marauding one. It used to p.i.s.s me off when I had to play the kidnapped princess." She dropped a kiss on the hollow of his throat and her hair caressed his chest.

"I was a fool," he said with a gasp. "From now on, you're the pirate."