Under different circumstances, he probably would’ve found that image rather sexy.

“Vaughn’s a special agent with the FBI,” Isabelle told Sidney, keeping the conversation going.

Sidney looked him over, likely remembering his teasing offer to show her his badge. “What kind of cases do you work on?”

“I’m on the white-collar crime squad. I mostly investigate public corruption crimes.”

“Vaughn does a lot of undercover work,” Simon said proudly. “He’s one of the small percentage of agents who’ve gone through the FBI’s undercover school at Quantico.”

“I didn’t realize you guys actually had a school for that,” Sidney said.

“Me, either.” Isabelle looked intrigued. “Are there classrooms and everything?”

“Yes, but most of the time we were off campus, using a nearby town to make the situations feel more authentic,” Vaughn said. “It’s basically three weeks of role-playing undercover scenarios and learning how to react if things go wrong.”

“How cool,” Isabelle said. “Isn’t that interesting, Sid?”

“Fascinating.” Her tone a touch dry, Sidney took a long sip of her wine.

And so the dance continued.

Vaughn and Sidney navigated their way through the chitchat, all politeness and congeniality, for the rest of the evening. The only time that façade broke was for a brief moment outside the restaurant, after they’d finished dinner. Isabelle hung back to use the restroom after saying her good-byes, and Simon stepped away to give his ticket to the valet.

Leaving Sidney and Vaughn alone.

She walked over to a waiting taxi. Vaughn followed and, being a gentleman, opened the door for her.

“I would offer to split a cab, but I’m afraid me and my ‘obviously healthy ego’ would crowd you too much.” He added a smooth smile just in case Simon was watching.

“Been waiting to say that all night, have you?” she quipped.

“Trust me, it’s by far the most polite of all the things I’ve been waiting to say all night.” He gestured with his hand—don’t let the taxi door hit you on the way out—then watched as she climbed into the car.

The slit of her pencil skirt parted mid-thigh as she scooted in.

She glanced up and caught him looking.

Yeah, whatever. Vaughn shut the door firmly.

Pill or not, the woman had some damn fine legs.

 • • •

SIDNEY SHOOK HER head as the cab drove away from the restaurant, still in disbelief that the guy with whom she’d had her snarky run-in at the coffee shop was Simon’s brother. Isabelle’s future brother-in-law.

Apparently it was just one of those fluke coincidences. She, being efficient, had scheduled her date with William at a coffee shop close to the restaurant where she was later set to meet Simon and Isabelle. According to the conversation she’d overheard between Vaughn and Simon, Vaughn had left work later than expected, without enough time to fight traffic all the way home and change out of his suit, so he’d decided to kill a half-hour at the same café.

Fate undoubtedly was cracking herself up over this one.

She pulled out her phone to text Trish, and then saw it was after ten o’clock. Thinking it was a little late to be gossiping with anyone who had a four-month-old baby at home, she decided to hold off until the morning.

The cab pulled to a stop in front of her home, a turn-of-the-century brownstone town house that had been gut-rehabbed by the previous owners. Sidney paid the fare, cut across the street, and then let herself in through the front door. She set down her purse and kicked off her heels, her mind playing through Vaughn’s last comment to her.

Trust me, it’s by far the most polite of all the things I’ve been waiting to say all night.

He was so . . . smug. Annoying, too. And even more annoying was the fact that he just had to be good-looking, with his interesting undercover job—Ooh, look at me, I’m a hot FBI agent, I went to school to be this bad-ass—blah, blah, blah. And now her sister was marrying his brother, which meant that she would be stuck bumping into this guy for eternity.

Wonderful.

A knock at the front door jolted Sidney out of her reverie. Not expecting any company at ten thirty on a Friday night, she checked the security camera that linked to her television.

Surprisingly, it was Isabelle.

Sidney opened the front door and let her sister inside. “Hey, you. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again tonight.”

“I asked Simon to drop me off so we could talk. You know, just the two of us.”

Sidney smiled, less surprised now. Despite a five-year age gap, she and her sister had always been close. Having been raised by a mostly absentee father and a revolving door of nannies and stepmothers, they’d been the only constant in each other’s lives. She and Isabelle had talked and Skyped constantly while she’d been living in New York, but she’d nevertheless missed this—being able to talk in person.

She led her sister into the living room and plunked down on the couch. She was eager for all the details she hadn’t wanted to ask in front of Simon and his oh-so-special agent brother. “So? Were you totally surprised when Simon asked you to marry him? I mean, it has only been three months.”

Sitting on the couch next to Sidney, Isabelle curled her feet underneath her. “Yes and no. The subject came up when we were having a conversation about something else.”