“P.B. and J. are happy to see you,” she said loudly, to be heard above the noise.

“Every guy likes an enthusiastic greeting.”

“Oh? Then you’re gonna love this.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed herself against him and kissed him.

Those candy-apple lips tasted as good as they looked, and with a groan, his arms went around her, pulling her closer, pressing the flowers into her back, deepening the delicious kiss she’d initiated. Her delicate, musky, floral scent filled his head and it flashed through his mind that he’d never again be able to smell flowers and not think of her. When he finally lifted his head, his glasses were-no surprise-fogged over. After pulling them off, he looked into her gorgeous eyes, which she’d outlined with some sort of smoky color that made them appear larger and more luminous than usual.

“You were right,” he said, slowly rubbing himself against her. “That was very much enthusiastic. And I loved it.”

She waggled her brows. “Wait till you see what I have planned for later.”

Later…when they would say goodbye. He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead then forced a smile. “Can’t wait.” After releasing her, he stepped back and presented the bouquet with a flourish. “For you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She accepted the flowers, then buried her face in the blooms. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And speaking of beautiful…” He ran his fingers down her sleeve. “You look incredible.”

Her gaze tracked over his charcoal-gray suit, white dress shirt, and red paisley silk tie. “I was about to say the same thing to you. C’mon in. I’ll put my flowers in water and then we can leave.” She turned and headed across the threshold.

“That sounds…” His voice trailed off. Her dress, which completely covered up the front of her, left her entire back-from her neck to her hips-completely bare.

“Sounds what?” she asked over her shoulder as she headed toward the kitchen.

“Er, great.” With his gaze fastened on her gorgeous bare skin, he entered the house, closed the door, then followed her into the kitchen. P.B. and J. scampered ahead of him, racing toward their food bowls, sliding across the hardwood floor. He came up behind her as she reached up to pull a glass vase from an upper cabinet, wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her fragrant hair.

“That’s some dress. But I think it’s on backwards,” he said, gently nibbling on her earlobe.

She laughed, reaching back to encircle his neck, then tilting her head to afford him better access. “Now that would cause quite a stir at the restaurant.”

“Sweetheart, you’re causing such a stir right here, we might not make it to the restaurant.” To prove his words, he pressed his erection more firmly against her buttocks, then groaned when she wriggled against him. “Are you wearing anything under this?” he asked, skimming his hands over the silky material.

“Mmmm…you mean besides skin?”

“Yeah.”

She turned around and, with her eyes dancing with mischief, slipped her hands beneath his suit jacket to skim her palms up his back. “If I told you, it would ruin your Valentine’s Day surprise.”

“The only thing that’ll surprise me is if you make it out of this kitchen without my finding out.”

“I see.” She reached behind her, then drew forth a package wrapped in shiny red paper. “Then I guess this won’t come as any big shocker.”

His brows shot up. “What’s that?”

“A present. For you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Surprised pleasure washed through him as he accepted the rectangular-shaped gift. “Are you a magician? Where’d it come from?”

“It was right there on the counter the whole time.”

“Ah. That explains it. I was mightily distracted.” He moved to stand next to her, leaning his hips against the counter. “Should I open it?”

She looked toward the ceiling and blew out an exaggerated breath. “Clearly you don’t know what the heck a ‘present’ is.”

A sheepish grin tugged his lips. “Okay, silly question. I’m officially a dork.”

“True. But you’re adorable.”

“I guess that makes me…adorkable?”

She laughed. “Exactly. Now open your present so we’re not late for our dinner reservation.”

His gaze tracked down her luscious form. “If you didn’t want to be late, you seriously wore the wrong dress.”

Her lips twitched. “Would it help if I took it off?”

“That depends on what you’re hoping to help. If it’s our punctuality, definitely not. But leave it on. I want to be the one who takes it off you. In the meantime, I’ll try to focus.” Turning his attention to his gift, he removed the wrapping paper and found himself holding a hardcover book with a dark brown glossy cover that looked so much like a chocolate bar, he was tempted to take a bite.

He ran his fingers over the gold embossed letters on the cover and read “Nothing is Better Than Chocolate.”

“I bought it at Sinfully Sweet,” she said. “It has tons of great pictures and Ellie Fairbanks said it provides an interesting history of candy-making. It’s sort of a dual Valentine’s Day-going away gift. A little something to remember me by.”

Her words brought an odd lump to his throat. As if he stood any chance of forgetting her. “Thanks. It’s great.”

“Like with anything chocolate, I couldn’t resist. Besides,” she added, bumping his hip with hers, “I think we actually proved the title wrong. At least a few times.”

“At least.” He turned to look at her. He wanted to smile, to keep the moment light, but the instant his gaze found hers, all remnants of amusement faded. “Actually, as far as I’m concerned, we proved that title wrong every time.” He set the book on the counter, then snagged her into his arms and lightly kissed her soft mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” When he moved in to kiss her again, she leaned back and pressed her fingers against his lips. “Oh, no. You have that look in your eye. I know that look.”

“I bet you do. And you should. You put it there. You and. his hands skimmed over her hips, “this dress.”

“Good. I’m glad, seeing as how that was the point.” She splayed her hands against his chest and shot him a stern look. “But this dress stays on until after dinner.”

“How long after?” he asked, mentally calculating the number of seconds he’d require to peel the soft, stretchy fabric off her.

She considered for several seconds, then with a wicked grin said, “Until we get home.”

He groaned.

“And inside the house.”

He groaned again. Damn. There went any plans to get her naked the instant he parked in the driveway. “You’re killing me. Seriously. I may be dead by then.”

She shot him a saucy wink that revved his pulse into the danger zone. “Don’t worry, Mr. Adorkable. I’ll revive you.”

8

THROUGHOUT THE ELEGANT meal at The Delaford’s five-star restaurant, Carlie felt as if she’d been divided in two. Part of her enjoyed the fabulous seven-course meal; the romantic atmosphere, courtesy of the luxurious surroundings, soft music, muted lighting and candle glow; the delicious, chilled champagne; the stimulating conversation with Daniel whose undivided attention and heated, admiring gaze made her feel feminine and desirable, interesting and witty.

Hot and bothered.

But during the entire evening, another part of her was consumed by the ticking of that incessant internal countdown clock, while her brain silently repeated the words, He’s leaving tomorrow. This is your last night together.

Over and over, the words reverberated through her mind, a haunting mantra that taunted her with the knowledge that each moment of this magical evening was one that wouldn’t be repeated. There would be no more romantic dinners, no more flirting over a champagne toast, no more holding hands between courses, no more intimate glances, no more smiles and laughter over a shared joke.

No more Daniel.

By the time they left the restaurant, she felt as if a weight sat on her chest, and a heavy silence swelled between them during the ride home. She remained quiet thanks to the lump that had settled in her throat, but what was his excuse? She peeked at him from the corner of her eye. He was frowning and a muscle ticked in his jaw. Tiny tendrils of something that felt suspiciously like desperation licked at her insides. By the time he pulled into her driveway, the ticking clock and the mantra echoing through her mind had reached epic proportions.

The instant he put the car in Park, she unfastened her seatbelt, then reached over to unclick his and turn off the ignition. The headlights flicked off, leaving them ensconced in intimate darkness. Before he could move, she grabbed his lapels and dragged him toward her.

“You kiss me now,” he said, his voice a deep, warning growl, “and I swear we won’t get out of his car until-”

“Perfect,” she said, shifting her butt over the console and settling herself across his lap. “Can’t wait.”

“Perfect.” His mouth came down on hers in a wild, demanding kiss that stole her breath. In a heartbeat, his hands were everywhere: cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples through the stretch jersey material, gliding up her legs, over her thighs, then beneath her hem. When his palms glided over her bottom and discovered she wore nothing under her dress, his feral-sounding groan vibrated in the air.

He yanked the stretchy material upward, and she rose onto her knees and straddled him. With her two remaining brain cells that still functioned, she grabbed her small satin purse and pulled out the condom she’d stashed there-no easy task with his magical fingers skimming over her bare bottom then slipping between her thighs to caress her slick, swollen folds.