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couple of clicks of the lock from the
inside sounded and the door swung open. “At last,” she said. But
Chas’s brain barely registered the words. His eyes—every cell in
his body—were drawn, like a super-high powered magnet, to her
seductively-clad body. Clearly, her intentions for their evening
were much the same as his own.
    His brows slammed together. Except.
    The satin and lace she was wearing told him
that hers had a much more romantic bent. And no doubt involved
actual penetration—which he was determined to abstain from. At
least he’d keep from screwing her literally, until he’d paid back
what he owed her. Which, if all went as he planned, wouldn’t be
more than a month or two down the road. “Jesus, Delilah.” The words
came out harsher than he’d intended.
    Suddenly, her hands were moving, sweeping the
satin wrap around her, and tying the sash, effectively covering her
much-too appetizing female parts from his view. “You don’t like it.
How embarrassing. I just thought—well, it doesn’t matter.” She
swung the door open further and whirled around. “Come in. Dinner is
ready. I’ll just go change,” she said as she scuttled across the
living room toward what Chas assumed was the hallway leading to her
bedroom.
    It only took him a second to catch up to her.
He grabbed hold of her arm and swung her around to face him. She
stumbled and fell into him, her hand brushing his erection. They
both gasped.
    He recovered before she did. “Don’t be
embarrassed, Delilah,” he said. “I like what you’re wearing.”
    He felt her relax, though her shoulders still
rose and fell with rapid breath. She had her head bent so he
couldn’t get a good look at her expression. “Really?” she
asked.
    “Yes. Maybe a little too much.” He nudged her
chin up with his knuckle, forcing her to meet his eyes and dragged
her hair away from her cheek. Her face was as red as his father’s
Ferrari. For some reason, his heart tripped and then a new rush of
blood flooded his groin. What the hell are you doing,
man?
    He let his hands drop to his sides and
stepped back. “But, I—” His voice rasped.
    He cleared his throat. “I guess you should go
ahead and change. I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on
eating with you dressed that way.”
    * * *
    Delilah bit down on the inside of her cheek.
The pressure not to cry nearly overwhelmed her. He doesn’t want
me. “Okay,” she said. But as she was turning away from Chas,
she noticed the bag in his hand—and the emblem on the front. Her
heart leap-frogged in her chest. She knew that store. Which meant
he did want her! Without further thought, she made a grab
for it and had it opened before he could put up the slightest
protest.
    When she saw what he’d brought with him, a
rainbow of happiness exploded inside her and eviscerated every last
particle of despair. A grin broke over her face and their eyes met.
“Why Chas H. Regan. You little devil.”
    * * *
    It was Chas’s turn to flush. His face felt as
hot as a Houston sidewalk in the hell-month of August and his pits
and hands were suddenly clammy with sweat.
    This was not going at all the way he’d
envisioned. He’d had it all planned out: He’d have the upper hand.
Be the one who was in control of the situation. He’d sit her down
right here in the living room after dinner and have that long
heart-to-heart about propriety, their social status, etc., etc.,
and then he’d offer to be her—what was it called? Oh,
yeah— submissive .
    In private.
    Just between them.
    No intercourse, just fun and games.
    No one ever needed to know.
    He shrugged. “It was—just an idea. Since you
seem to like kink.”
    * * *

 
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
     
    Delilah took hold of Chas’s hand and led him
down the hall to her bedroom. He didn’t protest when she pressed
him into a sitting position on the edge of her bed. She felt the
weight of his gaze following her around her bedchamber as she