Ugh, the jerk is already in my head. Shaking it like it would clear away all the confusion, she wrapped her arms around the coat tied at her waist as she pushed her way through the evening crowd. Maybe if she tried really hard, she could block out the wall of a man she had stupidly dared to challenge.

* * *

Cole had just made it back to his office when Jane popped her head around the corner.

“So, did you get those flowers?”

Cole looked over his shoulder at his paralegal. “I did actually. They have nice stems,” he told her without missing a beat.

Jane smiled back at him with a look of pure mischief. “I’m sure they do, Mr. Madison.”

“Cole,” he reminded as she walked out of sight.

Cole shrugged out of his coat and draped it over his arm as he walked around his desk, looking at the notes Jane had put there.

God, Becky called again.

Placing his coat over the back of his chair, he looked down at his watch. There was no point in calling now. First thing tomorrow morning, he would call and let her know that he would arrive in the evening.

Incompetence at its finest. Yeah, well, that shit is not going to fly anymore.

Besides trying to distract himself, he couldn’t do anything about it tonight.

Cole sat down and looked at the papers in front of him. God, I need a vacation. How long has it been since I truly took one? Years? It has to be years.

Glancing up at the clock, he noticed it was now approaching six thirty.

“Mr. Madison? Will that be all today?” Jane’s voice drifted into his office.

Turning to face her, he gave her a nod. “Yes, Jane, that is all. Please go home to Gary.”

“Only if you promise you will go home soon. You work far too hard.”

Picking up the paper in front of him, he waved it once. “I need to look this over for tomorrow, and then I promise to leave.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

She gave him a warm smile and bid him good night. “See you tomorrow, sir.”

“Jane,” he warned with a low voice.

She moved away from his desk with a wave. “Night, Cole.”

At her departing two words, he chuckled.

* * *

Closing time rolled around much quicker than Rachel had expected, especially considering she had spent every minute of the last several hours thinking, panicking, and collectively freaking out about what she had gotten herself into this evening.

Shit, I’m stupid!

No, I’m not. I’m strong. I can be in control. Just remember, Rachel, he chased you.

“Rachel!”

Spinning around with a piping bag midair, she came face-to-face with Mason. He was standing at the entryway to the kitchen, looking at her with a frown on his face. He moved between the two large stainless steel tables and made his way toward her.

Rachel looked around and saw that most of the kitchen had emptied out. A few people were at the sinks, and a couple more were out in the dining room, but essentially, it was her and her perceptive brother.

“I’ve been calling your name for nearly five minutes.” He stopped in front of her and leaned against the table.

“You have?” she asked, trying to appear clueless.

“Yes, I have. What’s going on with you lately?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am not,” Rachel fired back. Yeah, real mature.

“Rach, if something’s wrong, you can talk to me.” Mason reached out to squeeze her shoulder.

She looked up into eyes that mirrored her own and replicated their father’s. Those eyes made her heart ache at times, and this was one of them. Looking away from the confusion and compassion in Mason’s eyes, Rachel tried to pull herself together.

What else can I do? Tell him I’m going crazy, and the best way to forget how lonely I am is to lose myself in sex? Oh, and I could mention that I don’t like men to control me, so I make sure they don’t touch me. Yeah, that would go over well.

“I’m fine, Mason, really. I’ve just been a bit stressed out lately with working at Precious Petals in the morning and then coming here at night.”

“Well, let’s do something about it,” he suggested, a frown still present between his brows.

“Stop worrying about me, would you? I already placed an ad for part-time help. You have a wife to worry about now. I’m good.”

Cocking his head to the side, he gave her a thorough look over. “Okay, I’ll let it go for now.”

“Gee, thanks,” Rachel sassed, turning away from him.

He moved around her, heading toward the fridge. She watched him disappear inside, and then she closed her eyes, exhaling a deep breath. Between Mason, Lena, Josh and Shelly, she had a hard time hiding anything, but she wasn’t ready to talk. Honestly, she had no idea what she would say anyway.

* * *

Cole made his way down the dark street with his hands burrowed inside his pockets. The wind was whipping around tonight, and the bite from the cold air was harsh. He was glad the cab had dropped him only a few feet away from the small flower shop’s front door.

Stepping up to the entryway, he knocked twice and waited. He was surprised she had left on the small light overhead. It was currently illuminating the snowflakes falling silently to the ground.

Reminding himself of the promise he’d made, he bit back a curse. No touching was going to be difficult. The door to the shop opened with the sound of bells, and when Rachel appeared, covered in leather, he thought difficult was the wrong fucking word.

“Right on time,” she announced as she stepped aside, inviting him in.

Brave woman. “I try to be.”

“So, you’re never late? What else do you try never to be?”

Standing right beside her, he took a moment to take in the full impact of her outfit. “Something I’m not.”

Annoyance flashed across her face at his not-too-subtle jab.

What the hell? I told her I don’t lie, and I’m not going to start sugarcoating shit for her benefit.

Taking several steps into the dimly lit shop, he noticed only the lamp by the cash register was on. Makes sense really. She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here at one in the morning.

Hearing the door shut with a lot more force than when it had opened, he turned to face her.

Fucking hell. She sure is something to look at right now. He let his eyes wander over every inch of soft black leather that seemed to mold to her body. She was wearing a pair of pants that were held together only by the crisscross of black satin ties running down the outside length of each leg from her hip to her ankle. It showed off smooth skin he wanted to lick. With that thought, his cock started to throb inside his pants, and that was before he took the time to admire the black strapless corset that perfectly completed the ensemble.

Oh yes. Here was the woman who had intrigued him ever since the first time he had seen her.

He reached up and loosened the gray scarf he had wrapped around his neck as he kept his eyes on her, daring her. She accepted the challenge by taking a couple of steps toward him in heels that screamed, don’t fuck with me.

It was such a shame really, because fucking with her was exactly what he wanted to do.

* * *

Rachel could feel her blood starting to boil. She had known this was a mistake the minute she had opened the door and seen him looking up at the snow. For a moment, she had almost forgotten what an insufferable jerk he was, and then he had opened his mouth, giving her a much-needed reminder.

Stepping forward, she placed her hands on her hips. She felt her breath catch as Cole slid the gray scarf away from around his neck.

I can do this.

I. Can. Do. This.

He’s just taking off his scarf for God’s sake. How can that be so fucking sexy?

He turned and placed the scarf between the lamp and the cash register on the counter. When he looked back at her, Rachel took great satisfaction in the way he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from her.

This is your chance. Take it.

“So, are you trying to say I’m fake? Is that it? That’s kind of insulting, considering what you want from me.”

Rachel concentrated on his large hands as they unbuttoned his coat, just as they had done earlier in the day. Once the buttons were undone, he shrugged out of his coat, and she allowed herself to look up into his eyes. He was assessing her with a shrewd stare that was filled with so much fire she was surprised Precious Petals hadn’t burst into flames.

His short dirty-blond hair was sticking up in the front. Rachel couldn’t be sure, but she figured, as pedantic as he was, he had probably styled it that way.

“I don’t think you’re fake.” He threw the wool coat over the counter without turning away from her. “I think you are hiding.”

That pissed her off. She wasn’t hiding jack shit. She just didn’t want some control freak trying to hold her down—literally. That was why her ex, Charlie, had been such a great choice. There was a mellow guy if she had ever met one.

Now, the man currently in front of me? Anything but mellow. More like a dormant volcano waiting to erupt.

Raising her chin, she tilted her head to the side. “I’m not the one who wears five layers of clothing everywhere.”

“This is an image. That,” he told her, looking over her leather-clad body, “is a costume.”