Lacy sounded incredulous. “You’re going to his house on a Sunday night to—”

“To discuss possible evening activities for his dates. That’s all.” Andy walked to the coffee table to gather the files with the info she’d gathered. She really probably could have emailed them, but an in-person consult was much easier.

Lacy gave her a once-over before returning to her post at the window. “Sounds an awful lot like an excuse for a booty call, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you.” Andy wrapped a large rubber band around her files so they’d be easier to carry. “Not that I need to explain myself to you, but Blake has a date with Jane tomorrow and I want to make sure I get all the details settled tonight. You know, stuff comes up at work. He might not have time to talk to me in between his meetings and things.” Plus, she needed time to plan her next round of sabotage.

“That sounds so wrong.” Lacy turned to sit in the sill so she could face Andy. “How can you stand him dating another woman while he’s banging you?”

Andy bit her lip. There was no way she was admitting to Lacy how much she couldn’t stand Blake dating Jane. If she did, then she’d have to admit what she’d done to try to stop the dates. The awful, deceitful string of bad behavior. Lacy would string her up by her thong for that kind of nonsense.

Well. Hopefully her sabotage had proved fruitful. Though Blake had asked for another date with Jane after the last one, he’d been reluctant to discuss the evening’s agenda. Actually what he’d said was that he was too busy on Friday afternoon, but Andy couldn’t help but wonder if that was code for not that enthused. It was so obvious that Jane was all wrong for him, she knew he’d see it, too, soon enough. Why he hadn’t already was a mystery. She was merely scooting up the time line on that by making sure all their dates sucked. Going to his house tonight was an opportunity for her to gauge the prospect of that being true.

And when she’d approached him with the idea of stopping by on Sunday, he hadn’t said no. A storm of butterflies wreaked havoc in her belly at what that might mean.

Stop it, she scolded herself. She couldn’t get her hopes up. Go in with low expectations and she’d have a better chance of surviving whatever happened emotionally. Tossing her curls over her shoulder, she met her sister’s eyes and said words that she meant for herself as much as anyone. “It’s just sex, Lacy. It’s fun. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“There are some people I believe that may be true for. You are not one of them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” It was true, but Lacy didn’t have to call her on it.

“You’re going to get emotionally attached,” Lacy chided in a singsong voice.

“No. Way. Yes, he’s good.” Great, actually. Greater than great. “But he is definitely not for me.” All lies. She was totally emotionally attached. Yet she couldn’t admit that to anyone without feeling stupid with a capital S. Because though Blake was more than pleasing in the physical department, he still lacked in other areas. He’d improved socially under her tutelage, and he made fewer chauvinistic comments since her first days working with him, but he was still basically an ass-hat. The fact that he was serving her multiple O’s while still using her to find a bride was proof of that. Totally awful.

Someone just needed to explain that to her heart.

Lacy narrowed her eyes at her. “Your expression says that you aren’t so sure about that.”

Goddammit, why did Lacy have to be able to read her so well? That was Andy’s gig.

Andy forced a smile. “I’m fine. Stop worrying about me. Mom.” As if she’d have ever discussed her sex life with their mother.

Lacy ignored the crack. Or else she worked to emulate it further. “How will you get home? The train doesn’t go all the way out to Rich-ville.”

“I’ll call a cab. Or have Blake take me home.” Or not come home at all.

Immediately she scratched that thought from her mind.

But then Lacy said, “Or you’ll stay over.”

“I won’t stay over. That goes against the rules.”

Lacy rolled her eyes at the word rules. “But you might be home late?”

She was digging, and Andy knew it. Truth was, Andy wanted to be home late. Banging, as Lacy so eloquently put it, on new territory would be a definite violation of rules. It threatened to upset their carefully balanced routine. Especially when the new territory was Blake’s home. It was intimate. If they crossed that line, how could Blake deny what was happening between them?

On the other hand, Andy didn’t want to force it. It was one thing to ruin his dates, but whatever happened between her and Blake she wanted to happen organically. She had to be sure it was real. She had to be sure he knew it was real.

But what if it wasn’t as real for him as it was for her?

Maybe Lacy was right to be worried. Going to Blake’s home on a Sunday night under the pretense of work had the potential of backfiring big time. She could very well get hurt. Problem was, her heart was already involved. It was too late to worry about maybe getting hurt.

She glanced sideways at Lacy, who was still waiting for her answer. Andy didn’t give one. Instead, having spotted the ugly pea-green vehicle pulling up below, she said, “Darrin’s here.”

“Lucky you. Saved by the van.”

*   *   *

Thirty minutes later, Andy stood on the steps waiting for Blake to answer his bell. When the door opened, she was met by his housekeeper.

“Hi, Ellen. Good to see you again.” Andy tossed a good-bye wave over her shoulder to let Darrin and Lacy know she was good for them to leave and turned back to the older woman in front of her.

Ellen frowned and scrunched her forehead as if trying to recall something. “Drea!” she exclaimed after a moment.

Andy chuckled to herself, not bothering to correct her. “Is Blake here?” she asked, wondering when she’d be invited in and suddenly worried that maybe she hadn’t been already because he wasn’t there.

“Of course he is. Where are my manners? Come on in.” She stepped aside to let Andy in past her, holding the door open even after she was inside. “Is he expecting you?”

Andy tensed, fearing she was going to be kicked out without a definite invitation. “Sort of. I told him I had some things to drop off for him and he said anytime today would be fine.” She bit her lip. “Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all. He’s upstairs in his playroom.”

Playroom? Before Andy’s mind traveled too far into thoughts of red rooms filled with sex toys, she clarified. “In his office, you mean?”

“Yes. In his office.” With her hand still on the open door, Ellen said, “I’m sorry I seem rushed. I’m just on my way out. Date night with the Mister. Would you mind telling Mr. Donovan that dinner’s in the warmer whenever he’s ready?”

“Will do.” It occurred to Andy that Ellen probably always prepared Blake’s meals. “Ellen, before you go—how long have you worked for Mr. Donovan?”

“Oh, gosh.” She sighed with the thought. “Since he was just starting out with his business. Years. The man knows nothing about cooking himself. I’ve told him he needs to get himself a good wife before I retire. I planned to stay on until he married, but if he keeps dragging his feet I may have to help him find a replacement.”

“Interesting.” Blake’s requirements for a wife who knew how to cook and clean made more sense now. He thought he was being practical—replacing his housekeeper with a bride. Silly and old-fashioned, perhaps, but somewhat understandable.

With a smile she said, “Have a good date night, Ellen.”

“You as well, Drea.”

“Oh, I’m not…” Andy let her words trail off. She wasn’t there for a date, but it felt nice pretending she was. Anyway, the housekeeper was already halfway down the driveway headed to her car parked at the curb, so no use explaining otherwise.