“Eddie doesn’t have a lot of patience for high maintenance.”

“Eddie doesn’t know me wel enough to throw me and neither do you.”

“Eddie’l get to know you and he’l get over it. I’m already over it.”

I didn’t want him to be over it. I didn’t want him to be anything.

This wasn’t strictly true, but I was trying to go with that thought as best I could considering I was highly inebriated.

Hank was watching me and I could tel he was reading my thoughts.

“How long are you staying in Denver?” he asked.

“Awhile.”

“How long is awhile?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Long enough to have dinner with me?”

Holy cow. I’d read it in Uncle Tex’s letters but now it was right here in front of me. When they wanted something, these Denver boys did not f**k around.

I blinked at him.

“What?” I asked.

“You heard me.”

I blinked again.

“That isn’t a good idea,” I replied and threw out my arm for emphasis.

Unfortunately, the hand attached to my arm was stil carrying a martini and it sloshed al over the bricks paving the backyard and on Hank’s jacket.

“Shit! I’m sorry,” I said, turning to put the glass on a table and starting toward the door, using this as what I considered a golden opportunity to execute an escape plan. “I’l go and get a towel.”

Hank caught my arm and stopped me.

Escape plan thwarted.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“I got vodka on your jacket.”

“It’l clean.”

I stared at him.

“It won’t clean, it’s suede. Dammit, it’s soaking through.

I’l buy you a new one.”

“You aren’t buyin’ me a new jacket.”

“I am, this’l be ruined,” I told him. “We have to get a towel.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“You’re avoiding the vodka stain!”

I was avoiding his question. I was avoiding it with everything I had.

He drew me closer to him.

“Let’s get back to dinner. Tomorrow night. I’l pick you up at six thirty. Where are you staying?”

I shook my head, “Uncle Tex and I’l be playing with the cats.”

It wasn’t good but it was the best I had.

He drew me closer.

“Is there a reason you don’t want to have dinner with me?” he asked.

Yes, there was a reason; there were mil ions of them.

None of which I was going to share, the biggest of which was Bil y.

“No,” I lied.

“Where are you staying?” Hank, obviously, could be stubborn too.

“Listen, Whisky, I’m here to see my uncle, then, I’m gone.”

He drew me even closer, pul ing me in front of him so that my br**sts nearly brushed his chest. He looked down at me and smiled.

My mind went blank and I stared.

It might sound stupid, but his smile was breathtaking. He had great teeth.

“Sweetheart,” he said in a low voice, “You were here to see your uncle until you stepped into Fortnum’s and saw me and I saw you. You know it and I know it. You want me to convince you. I’m prepared to do that.”

Yowza.

My stomach pitched and I could feel my br**sts swel , so much so, I was surprised they didn’t poke him in the chest.

I wanted him to convince me, I wanted that a lot. Maybe that was why I said what I said next.

“You have no idea why I’m here.”

His face came closer to mine and for some reason, I didn’t move.

I real y should have moved.

His eyes looking into mine, he said, “No, I don’t. But you’l tel me over dinner tomorrow night.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.”

I started to panic, mainly because I was realizing if I didn’t get away, he was going to kiss me.

I pul ed at my arm.

“I need to go inside.”

The hand not on my arm came to my hip and his fingers bit into me, gentle but firm, holding me where I was.

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

My heart started racing.

“Let me go.”

“I see I have to convince you,” he said this like it was an advantageous turn of events that pleased him a great deal.

I was going to say no. I should have been quicker about it, but his hand at my hip pul ed mine into contact with his, his head came down and he kissed me.

Good God.

It was true, these Denver boys did not f**k around. It wasn’t a soft or gentle kiss, a brush or touch of the lips. It was a kiss kiss; his mouth opening over mine, his tongue insistent against my lips until they parted (which, I’m afraid to admit, didn’t take a lot of insisting) and then his tongue slid inside.

His fingers stopped biting into my hip, mainly because I’d leaned into him, my arms lifted and slid around his neck and my left hand went into his hair. I tilted my head to the side and kissed him back.

I couldn’t help it, it was the best kiss I’d ever had. It beat even Bil y’s finest mouth talents by a mile.

When he lifted his head, I kept my eyes closed and breathed. “Holy cow.”

“Where are you staying?” he asked against my mouth.

“Marriott Towneplace Suites on Speer.”

“The old Hirschfeld Press building?”

I nodded, stil feeling a bit dizzy from the kiss and warm and cozy pressed up against his hard body, even though the vodka-stained jacket had fal en off my shoulders.

“Sunshine, open your eyes,” he whispered.

I opened my eyes and he was grinning at me.

“Now I have another question.”

Shit.

I’d already said too much.

I fought against the Naughty Girl Martini pul , his hand at my hip slid around my waist and held me close. The other one went to my neck.

I lost my fight against the Naughty Girl Martini pul .

“Why’d you thank Indy before you left Fortnum’s?” I stared at him for a second, not remembering, then I remembered.

As this wasn’t a dangerous question, I answered.

“She brought Uncle Tex to me.”

His arm tightened and his thumb slid across my jaw.

“How’s that? You two are close.”

I shook my head, “Until today, I’d never met him.” He blinked, slow.

“Seriously?” he asked.

My hands moved to press against his chest but he didn’t move away. I gave up and left my hands where they were.