The difference was that now he knew what she looked like under her beautiful clothes. He knew how round that ass was, and how it flexed under his hands when she pushed against him. Her knew that her breasts were high and full and the nipples nearly brown against her skin.

Was she wearing stockings again? Was she thinking about him? Or had she already moved on?

For the briefest of moments, their eyes met. When she looked away, pink climbed up her cheeks, and he marveled that he had the power to make a woman like her blush.

A sweet ache filled his chest as he watched her tape up a box and set it aside.

The hall was clearing out. The convention was over. This thing between them was over. But Eric had a bitter taste over how it had ended. It didn’t sit well. Hell, in his work, he knew damn well that half the satisfaction of any experience was the last taste it left on the tongue. She’d left so quickly, and he was still struggling with the lie he’d let grow between them.

She packed up one last box and added it to the pile before she gathered up a sweater and her purse.

“Henry,” he said without looking at the kid packing up their own booth. “I’ll be back in a few.”

She stepped out into the flow of people, moving away without a farewell glance. Eric followed her. He tried to keep a distance. She didn’t want anyone to know about him, and he didn’t want anyone to know about her. For him, the secret had started from his lie, but now he just wanted to keep the night for himself. He didn’t want it cheapened by others’ thoughts. Yes, it had been a casual encounter, but it hadn’t been meaningless.

Beth headed toward the wall of doors at the front of the conference center. Eric picked up the pace. She moved damn fast in those shoes. He told himself not to get distracted by the tiny bows on the backs of the heels. He told himself not to think about running his hand from her ankle to her calf, up past the sensitive skin behind her knee until he got to the hot, sweet skin of her thigh…

Beth reached a hand out, only feet away from a glass door. Eric took two more steps and wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

“Oh!” she yelped, eyes flying wide as she spun toward him. He used her momentum to turn her to the side and tug her toward a solid metal door that hid the emergency stairwell.

Maybe it was shock, but she followed him through the door with no resistance.

“Jamie. I—”

He had to tell her. He meant to tell her. But as soon as the door closed behind them, he covered her mouth with a kiss. Her lips parted immediately. Her tongue slid against his in hunger. Just as desperate a hunger as he felt, surely. Her hands clung to his shoulders as she raised a knee to rub it between his.

Eric was immediately, painfully hard. His body didn’t think this was over, not by far. She was live heat beneath his hands, just as she had been last night. Warm skin and slippery fabric and hair that slid over his forearms. He could kiss her forever. She was perfect.

But metal banged somewhere from above them, and the sound was still echoing through the stairwell when Beth pulled away and set a hand to the wall. Her fingers spread wide, going white at the knuckles.

“We can’t,” she panted.

“I know. Jesus, I know. I only meant to stop you and make sure you’re all right. You left so quickly.”

Beth put a hand to her chest and licked her lips nervously. He had an almost overwhelming urge to lean in and taste her again, so he shoved his hands into his pockets and took a step back.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I had to take that call. It was my boss. She wants me to start teaching classes. At the shop.”

He felt his eyebrows fly toward his hairline. “Classes? On sex?”

“I know.” She waved a hand before pressing it to her closed eyes. “I know, it’s—”

“Impressive?” Classes. Wow. He’d had a fling with a woman who taught sex classes. He didn’t know whether to be freaked out or proud.

Her brow crumpled into lines of worry. “No, it’s ridiculous.”

Yes, it was that, too. He didn’t think Beth would mention him in a class, but shit. What if she did? He definitely couldn’t tell her his real name now. Anyway, Jamie would probably love being the subject of a sex-class discussion.

“Jamie,” she whispered. “Listen. I’m not really…” Whatever she’d been about to say, she snapped her mouth shut when a voice passed close to the doorway. Her eyes stayed on the door until the voice faded. Then she took a deep breath.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head. Her gaze slipped to the floor. “Nothing. It’s just that I’m going to be really busy for a while.” The words excused her from any further contact with him. He could see that plain as day. Disappointment passed over him in waves equal to his relief. Sex classes. Maybe their connection was best left as an amazing memory.

“It’s fine,” he said slowly. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh.” The tension faded from her face, and she met his eyes again.

“I don’t want this to be awkward,” he said.

She tilted her head and studied him before reaching up to put her hand to his cheek. “There’s nothing awkward here. Or complicated. Nothing we need to explain. Last night was a wonder. So thank you.”

“Beth—”

She snuck close again, wrapping her arms around his neck for a hug. The faint scent of her skin was a beacon, drawing him near. He forgot his guilt over not telling her the truth. She was right. It would be awful to ruin that night with awkwardness now. He pressed his mouth to her neck and whispered, “I think the wrong person is saying thank you.”

“Oh, no. You have my eternal gratitude.”

He was smiling when she kissed him, and it seemed appropriate for such a gentle press of her lips. And in that moment, all his conflicting emotions smoothed out into a long, easy line of happy satisfaction. Last night had been a great idea, and he wasn’t going to have another moment of regret over it.

“You were just what I needed,” she said.

“An embarrassingly preppy one-night stand?”

She ran a hand over the collar of his polo shirt. “An embarrassingly preppy one-night stand who rocked my world. But don’t tell. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

“It’ll be our secret,” he said, a hot thrill circling his chest at the words.

They didn’t bother with any polite offers of future phone calls or friendly promises to be in touch. Beth whispered, “Good luck with Kendall,” against his cheek. He kissed her one last time. She slipped away. And he let her go.

He had to learn how to let things go, after all. He’d start with Beth Cantrell. Maybe in a few months, he’d work on loosening his iron grip on the Donovan family business. Maybe.

But the memory of last night? That was a secret he’d never give up. He’d never share. And no one would ever find out.