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room of people I’d planned on dancing next to wouldn’t notice, and even if they did sneak a peek, they wouldn’t ever see me again. Gideon, however, would.
    I did a quick twirl and prayed the back of my dress didn’t catch too much air in the process. The last thing I needed was for him to reconsider. The profit I stood to make from this listing alone was enough to live on for a year. Pirouette complete, I slipped off my shoes. He had yet to utter a single word post-twirl, and it was making me nervous. “I guess I should see the house.”
    “You will after we have dinner.”
    “You cooked?”
    “Tonight I did.”
    He placed a hand on the small of my back as we walked, my skin prickling, responding to his touch. The probability of him not noticing my heightened sensations was near impossible. As we walked, he pointed out a few of the home’s features, but he wasn’t looking at the features when he talked—he was looking at me, eyeing me with a kind of curiosity that made my palms sweaty.
    The house had a seraphic aroma, like pasta drenched in a rich cream sauce. It wasn’t just the food though. It was him. He smelled amazing, and I found myself turning in his direction just to drink him in.
    “This is a beautiful house,” I said. “Why do you want to sell it?”
    “Why did you want to sell yours?”
    “Old memories. Old life. It was time for a new one.”
    “I feel the same way.”
    “Are you leaving Vegas?” I asked.
    He shook his head. It shouldn’t have mattered, and I shouldn’t have cared. So why did I?
    The table was prepared and ready. I had to hand it to him, for a man of the male persuasion, he’d done a great job. Everything was perfect.
    He pulled a chair out for me, and I sat down. He sat beside me, flattened a hand over mine. “Is anything wrong?”
    “It’s just, this all seems so much like a—”
    “A what?”
    I felt ridiculous and frustrated.
    “A lot of trouble to go through. I mean, if you want me to be your agent, I will. You could have made an appointment or met me at Rae’s office. You didn’t have to go through all this to get me to take your listing.”
    Just. Stop. Talking.
    “It’s not a big deal. I wanted the chance to speak to you in private.”
    Of course he did, because this was a date disguised as a party disguised as a real estate deal. And I was an idiot. I gripped the side of the table so hard my hand hurt.
    He stared, at me, at my hand trembling beneath his. “Maybe you should try the wine.”
    I didn’t want to try the wine, I wanted to ingest it, all of it, immediately. He’d gone to great lengths, luring me here through Rae. Why?
    “So, tell me your timeline for this place?” I asked. “Have you thought about the list price? Will you live here while the house is for sale, or are you going to live somewhere else?”
    “I don’t live here. Not anymore. For the moment, I’m renting a place near my office.”
    “You live somewhere else and leave this place empty?”
    “I let some relatives of mine crash here for a while. They moved out a couple months ago, and I decided it was time to get rid of it.”
    I twirled some stringy pieces of fettuccini around my fork and bit into the pasta, tried to pretend my head wasn’t spinning in a million directions. He reached over, using his thumb to remove a bit of excess sauce from my chin. Great. Even in a dress that said “come hither,” I’d managed to look like a slob.
    “What do you think?” he asked.
    “About the food?”
    He ran a finger up my bare thigh.
    “About everything.”
    I didn’t like being teased. The suppression method, the “let’s not talk about what’s really going on here,” may work for his needs, but it didn’t work for mine. He wasn’t just beating around the bush, he was circling it like a dog chasing his tail.
    Screw it.
    “Do you like me?” I asked. “Is that why I’m here, why we’re here, alone?”
    “You’re here because I need a good agent, and I believe you