Although I knew I shouldn’t answer, I found myself saying, “The single-breasted charcoal Tom Ford.”

Blane gave a slow nod, his gaze turning calculating. “I wore that suit the first time I kissed you.”

As if I needed reminding. “Yeah, I named that one.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “And?”

I hesitated. “I called it Leave Me Breathless.” Which actually was exactly how I felt at the moment.

Blane took a slow drink of wine, his eyes still locked on mine. “So tell me something,” he said at last.

I raised my eyebrows in silent question.

“The night Sheila died, the night I stayed with you in your apartment, you had a nightmare, remember?”

I nodded. I remembered that night vividly, not only because of Sheila’s horrible death but also because of Blane’s comforting presence.

Blane leaned one hip against the counter next to me. “So the next morning, when we woke . . .”

My pulse sped up. That morning was burned in my memory. Blane’s eyes were a stormy gray and I couldn’t look away from them.

“. . . I had my arm around you,” he continued, his voice lowering. “And I was touching you. You didn’t fight me, didn’t tell me no, and I always wondered if it was because you were scared, or if you thought you owed me something—that I was your boss, something like that. Or if you didn’t say anything . . . because you didn’t want me to stop.”

Memories came flooding back, making my heart twist inside my chest.

“I’ve always wondered,” Blane said with a soft smile and a shrug. “Thought maybe you might put my curiosity to rest.”

I swallowed before answering. “I was scared, a little,” I admitted. “But mostly . . . I didn’t want you to stop.”

The air was thick in my lungs and neither of us moved. With me on the counter, we were the same height, and he’d moved closer. His gaze dropped to my lips and my mouth went dry.

The oven timer buzzed, shattering the spell woven around us. I jerked back, tearing my eyes away from him.

Blane. More potent and dangerous than the most addictive drug. The pull between the two of us was still there, no matter how heartbroken I was over Kade leaving.

Kade.

The thought of him was like a bleak cloud settling over me and I didn’t say much as we sat down to dinner. Blane was a good cook and I was ravenous, a combination that meant I cleaned my plate and snuck another helping. Okay, two more helpings, but they were on the smallish side.

I wanted to do the dishes, but Blane insisted on doing them himself. A bath sounded really nice, so I asked Blane if I could use the tub in his bathroom, since it was way bigger than the one in mine.

“You don’t have to ask,” he chided me. “What’s mine is yours.”

His matter-of-factness brought a lump to my throat. Whatever mistakes Blane had made in the past, he’d more than made up for them since.

I almost fell asleep in the bathtub, I was so relaxed. Only when my fingers and toes began to wrinkle did I finally get out. I dried off and pulled on the white nightgown I always wore, brushing my hair and leaving it to trail wetly down my back.

When I came out of the bathroom, I saw Blane with his back to me as he took off his shirt. He peeled off the white linen dress shirt, then pulled the T-shirt he wore underneath over his head. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he moved, rippling beneath perfect golden skin. I saw his hands move down to the front of his slacks.

I must have made a noise, because he turned suddenly.

“I-I’m sorry,” I said, hastily averting my eyes from his very naked chest. “I’m done in the bathroom.” No kidding, really? Nothing like stating the obvious. I headed for the door.

“Wait, Kat, where are you going?” Blane latched onto my wrist.

I turned, only to see his chest mere inches away. I gulped, then forced my gaze upward. He was frowning.

“If you’re not tired, we can go watch another movie,” Blane said. “Or I can find you a book to read or something. Whatever you want.”

I cleared my throat nervously. “I was just going to bed,” I said, my voice much too quiet.

Blane looked slightly hurt. “Oh. I thought—I just assumed—you’d stay in here with me.”

My eyes widened. Last night had been one thing. I’d been upset, still reeling from what Kade had done. To stay with Blane another night seemed . . . wrong. And yet, the look on his face had guilt crawling inside me.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Blane added, his expression shuttered.

“No, that’d be . . . nice,” I said, and it was worth it to see Blane’s face smooth into a smile.

I headed for the bed, crawling underneath the covers. My nerves were jangling. I was too raw, too vulnerable to share a bed with Blane, and I knew it. I was deeply worried I’d do something I’d regret, but it didn’t seem I had a choice. I didn’t want to hurt Blane.

Blane switched off the light and I heard the rustle of clothing before he slid into bed. I was firmly on “my” side, though Blane took up his own space and then some.

I lay stiffly on my back, staring up at the black ceiling. My feelings were in a turmoil. I missed Kade so much, his absence was a physical ache, yet Blane’s presence next to me was deeply comforting, easing the pain inside. The future scared me and I couldn’t see what I was going to do, where I’d go from here.

Blane turned on his side to face me and I felt his hand settle over mine in the space between us. I closed my eyes as a tear tracked down my cheek to the pillow beneath my head. His kindness was sweet. Unexpected.

“Will you tell me more of the suit names tomorrow?” Blane asked, his voice quiet in the dark.

I smiled in spite of myself. “I’ve already broken The Code, so I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

Blane’s soft laugh sent a shiver through me, which was bad-bad-bad.

“Good night, Kat,” he said.

“Night, Blane,” I replied, relieved that he wasn’t going to try and pull me closer, which then made me feel guilty. Despite my heartache and guilt, I drifted to sleep.

It was still dark when I woke, and it didn’t take me long to realize I was sprawled nearly on top of Blane. One of my legs was lying between his, my head and torso resting on his chest while his arm curved around me.

Blane was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. My nightgown had ridden up and the skin of his legs was warm against mine. I could tell that even if he was still asleep, his body was very much awake.

Heat shot through me, pure hormones laying waste to logic and common sense, and I lay utterly still. I took a deep breath to get myself under control, then found my breath robbed as Blane’s mouth covered mine.

It was sudden and overwhelming, and it was like setting a match to tinder. His fingers were buried in my hair, holding my head as his tongue stroked mine. The desperate urgency in his kiss drove every thought out of my head. I couldn’t see anything—the room was too dark—and all I could do was feel. His mouth and hands were everywhere, dragging my nightgown over my head and turning me onto my back.

Blane’s erection pressed between my thighs and I moaned into his mouth. His lips and tongue moved to my breasts. My fingernails dug into his shoulders, my heart racing as my body instinctively responded to Blane’s touch. It had been a long time, but not so long that our bodies didn’t recognize the other’s in the dark. Blane’s touch and kiss were dragging me down a familiar path of desire and want.

His hand moved between my legs, sliding under the satin of my panties to slip between my folds. I gasped as he stroked me, the wetness he found betraying my arousal. It wasn’t until he pushed a thick finger inside me that reality intruded.

Oh God. This was going to happen. If I didn’t do something, Blane was going to make love to me right here, right now. It was so wrong that we were doing this—so wrong that a part of me wanted it, but I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to live with myself afterward.