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called out, but after a little wine, I’m not worried about it. He has no clue I’ve been having raunchy fantasies about him, so there’s no reason to be embarrassed. “Just wondering. It seems like a lot of house for one person.”
    “It can be, but it comes in handy sometimes to have extra room.”
    “Like when you have to take in your clients?”
    “Yes, like then. Or when I’m simply trying to impress them with my success.” He turns from the grill and shoots me a look.
    I’m impressed he’s playing along. “What if your client prefers the simple life to all of this grandeur?”
    “What if I told you it’s easy to be as simple as you want when there’s enough money and space that you don’t have to worry about it?” He raises his eyebrows as he brings me a plate of food.
    I take another sip of wine. “Everything looks great.”
    “Good. Hopefully it tastes as good as it looks.”
    We sit and make small talk over dinner, still avoiding the topic of my case. He makes me laugh despite myself, and I catch myself drinking more wine.
    For the first time in a long time, I feel safe. I feel like it’s okay to let my guard down and enjoy his company. The sun creeps down behind the tree line, and as the light recedes, Slate’s outdoor lights come on automatically. An involuntary chuckle escapes me when I notice this.
    “What’s so funny?” he asks me.
    “Your house,” I tell him.
    “You don’t like it, do you? It’s too big. It’s too extravagant.”
    “Oh no, it’s not that. It’s beautiful,” I tell him. “It struck me when the lights came on by themselves that you’ve thought of everything.” The house is definitely a reflection of the man who lives here. Just as Slate seems to have a rehearsed answer for everything, his house has a solution for any situation.
    “I like to be thorough,” he says with a strange look in his eyes, and I get the feeling he’s not talking about the house anymore. For some reason, I think I see desire in his eyes, and I feel my own desire stirring between my legs.
    I clear my throat. Why do I want this man so much?
    Our plates have been empty for a while now, but we continue to talk and drink.
    “I should go to bed,” I finally say.
    He glances at the watch on his wrist. “It’s still early,” he protests.
    “My bedtime is early.”
    “Ah, that’s right. Teacher,” he says with a wink. “Maybe you can teach me a thing or two while you’re here,” he teases.
    “I doubt there’s anything for me to teach you. You strike me as pretty worldly and experienced, Slate Rawlings.”
    “I agree with your second statement but not your first. You’re a complex woman, Rose. I’m sure there’s plenty you can teach me.”
    I want to teach him what I like in a lover. I want to teach him how to get me off. To lick my clit and penetrate me with two fingers until I’m begging him for release.
    In a desperate attempt to hide my thoughts, I leap to my feet and start gathering dishes. He stands, as well, and places a hand on my arm.
    “Don’t worry about the mess,” he says. “I’ll clean up.”
    I lick my lips and nod. “Well, goodnight,” I tell him. “And thank you for everything, Slate.”
    “No problem. And if you need anything tonight – anything – I’ll be in my room.”
     
     

Chapter Six
     
     
    Rose
     
    The wine helps me drift off to sleep in spite of being in a house with a stranger. I sink into the soft, high thread-count sheets on the guest bed, pushing my bag onto the floor with my feet and listening to the thud as it crashes down. The noise pleases me because its imperfection clashes with everything else in this immaculate home.
    At the wine’s recommendation, I reluctantly let go of my suspicions. Maybe Slate really is the good guy here. Maybe he truly wants to help after hearing what happened with Josh.
    Oh, Josh. What the hell happened to you?
     
    * * *
     
    In my dream, Josh is still alive and lying next to me in this wonderfully