An Intimate Bargain

Two

Zach figured there was a pretty good chance he was about to get his face slapped. He also figured it was going to be worth it.

He leaned in, anticipating her taste, the softness of her full lips. But a boat horn suddenly blasted from the lake, and Doll-Face abruptly turned away. Then another horn sounded, and another.

Disappointment clenched Zach’s gut, even as light and color flashed in the periphery of his vision. He looked toward the lake in time to see starbursts of color cascading in the skies above.

A cheer went up from the crowd that had gathered far down the shore and out onto the wharf. A few people had also arrived in the park, taking up spots on nearby picnic tables. Zach hadn’t even noticed them.

Doll-Face settled back to watch the show, bracing her hands and locking her elbows, bringing her dress taut against her breasts, highlighting an intriguing dip of cleavage.

Her skin was honey-toned with a tan. Her neck was long and graceful, her face classically beautiful, with big, golden eyes, dark lashes and a wide, sexy smile.

“Wow,” she whispered. “That’s spectacular.”

“It sure is,” he agreed, gaze fully on her, still desperate to lean down and kiss her mouth. Her auburn hair was slightly mussed. Wisps had worked their way free from the updo, along her neck and forehead. He had a sudden vision of her lying back on a white pillowcase, naked, thoroughly kissed, a sheen of sweat glistening on her brow.

He gave himself a shake.

“Oooh,” she sang, smiling. Then she glanced up at him. “You’re missing it.”

He wasn’t missing a thing. But he turned to look at the fireworks anyway. “Part of the election celebration?”

“It is,” she said. “I should be standing out there on the dock with a glass of champagne in my hand, toasting my-”

He waited, but she didn’t add anything to the end of the sentence. “You want to go drink some champagne?” he felt compelled to ask. The last thing he wanted to do was join the crowd down the beach.

“No. I was just wondering if anyone noticed I was missing.”

“Did you have a date at the party?” That could easily have been the end of her sentence. Toasting with her boyfriend? Was that what she’d meant to say?

He glanced reflexively at her left hand. No ring. At least she hadn’t been talking about toasting with her fiancé.

“No date,” she assured him.

He scanned his way from her knees to her breasts, along her neck, returning to her face. Bursts of light danced off her skin, reflecting in her gorgeous eyes. His voice went husky. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

She met his gaze for a long moment, while he tensed, waiting. Then she shook her head. “Not since Russell Livingston, senior year.”

“How old are you?”

“How old do I look?”

“Young enough that I should ask.”

She grinned. “I’m twenty-six.”

He did the math. “So you haven’t had a boyfriend in four years?” He found that absolutely impossible to believe. What on earth was wrong with the men of Colorado?

“Not a steady one.” She gave a little lift of her chin. “How about you?”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

She threw an elbow to his rib cage. “You know what I mean, Lucky.”

He steadied her arm with his hand as she rocked back. “Nobody serious.”

She resettled her bare feet on the picnic-table bench. “Since when?”

He reluctantly removed his hand from her arm, shrugging as he took in the glinting copper polish on her toenails. Sexy. How had he missed that up to now? “Since forever.”

“You’ve never been in love?”

“I’ve never been in love,” he confirmed. He’d never had the time. Not that he’d be likely to recognize it if it happened. He’d had no role models, no examples of romantic love in his formative years. He supposed he loved Alex like a brother. But that was a completely different thing.

“Me neither,” said Doll-Face. She contemplated the fireworks display for a minute. “But both of my sisters are in love.”

“You have two sisters?”

“And two brothers.”

“Are your parents still together?”

Her expression faltered for a second, but then she nodded, voice a little quieter. “Yes, they are. And they’re still very much in love.”

“Sounds like a perfect family.” Reflexive resentment flickered inside Zach. But he quickly tamped it down. He wouldn’t wish his tough childhood on anyone, least of all this delightful, beautiful creature in front of him.

She laughed. “We’re a long, long way from perfect. But there’s a wedding coming up. A double wedding.”

“Both sisters?” he guessed.

“I’ll be the maid of honor.” Then she sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “And me, the oldest.”

“Oh, that’s not good.” Zach shook his head in mock concern. “Tragic, really. Pitiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

“An old maid at twenty-six.” He clicked his cheek. “What will the neighbors say?”

Her laughter tinkled. “They’ll probably introduce me to every eligible bachelor they can lay their hands on.”

Zach knew she was probably right. And he didn’t like that image. He had a sudden urge to curl an arm around her, pull her close, tell her to stay away from all those no-good bachelors.

“Funny,” she continued, her gaze back on the fireworks. “Marriage has never been a goal of mine.”

“Mine, neither,” Zach agreed, ridiculously relieved. It was silly, stupid even. He didn’t know the woman’s name, yet he didn’t want to think about her with other men.

“What is your goal?” he prompted. The gasps of the crowd and the pops of the rockets once again penetrated his conscious, reminding him of where they were.

She shrugged her slim, bare shoulders. “A career, maybe.”

“What kind of career?” This line of conversation definitely beat talking about her future boyfriends.

“Lately I’ve been thinking about event management, or maybe business.”

“What’s your degree in?”

“History. Don’t you dare laugh.”

Did she mean at the impracticality of studying history? “I’m not laughing. I don’t even have a college degree.”

She waited for him to continue. There was no judgment in her expression.

“Where I come from,” he found himself explaining, “high school graduation is about as far as kids go.”

“Did you graduate high school?”

“I did.” He paused. “But would you care if I hadn’t?” He was honestly curious.

“I don’t think it’s your education that matters. It’s what you do with it.”

He couldn’t agree more.

With the exception of their accountant, DFB Incorporated didn’t have a single employee with a college degree. Mostly because they were all foster kids. They’d grown up in group homes, like him, or in a series of short-term, single-family placements. They’d learned to avoid emotional attachment to their caregivers and had spent their childhoods in survival mode. None of them had family ties. None would have had a single penny of support, even if they had wanted to go to college.

“If you want to use your history degree to go into business,” he told her, “I’m all for it.”

She smiled, and his chest tightened. “Thank you.”

He drew a couple of hard breaths. He’d never wanted to kiss a woman quite this badly. But people could see them, and she was trying to keep a low profile. “What kind of business?” he forced himself to ask again.

“I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Well, if you start your own, expand slowly. Make sure you don’t overleverage.”

“Is that what you did?” There was an astute intelligence in those golden eyes. It was as if she’d suddenly shifted modes, staring frankly, seeking information.

Okay, that really shouldn’t strike him as sexy.

“We grew fast,” he told her, shifting his attention to the lake in order to keep from grabbing her right here in front of everyone. “When you hit a certain size, all of a sudden there are a whole lot of moving parts. We ended up with a weak link. And I’m here to fix it.” It seemed silly to stay so oblique. “You want me to tell you what the-”

“No!” It was her hand on his arm more than her words that shut him up.

He glanced down at her slim fingers, the lavender polish, felt the heat through the thin cotton of his shirt, and thought about all the other places he’d like her to touch him.

“It’s better this way,” she assured him.

It would be better with her in his arms.

The sky suddenly lit up with the fireworks finale. The crowd oohed then aahed then cheered madly as the sky went dark.

“Whatever you want,” Zach told her, meaning it in all possible ways.

Abigail knew the evening had to come to an end. It was after three in the morning. They’d been talking for hours, and she was nearly asleep on her feet as they approached the front entrance of the Caspian Hotel.

Except for the doorman, the place was deserted. He tipped his hat, gave them a welcoming smile and opened the glass-fronted, brass-trimmed door so they could enter.

Lucky slowed his steps and motioned with an outstretched arm for Abigail to go in first. Her heels clicked on the marble floor, echoing through the empty lobby. A front-desk clerk glanced up from her computer screen. Seeing they had no luggage, so obviously weren’t checking in, she nodded a greeting and went back to typing on the keyboard.

They crossed the vast lobby toward the bank of elevators, while Abigail struggled for something clever or memorable to say. But everything she came up with sounded either trite or ridiculous.

Lucky pressed the call button, and an elevator door immediately slid open. She wanted to tell him she’d had a great time. No, not a great time, an amazing time. A time that she wished she could repeat again someday. But she knew that was impossible. He was leaving town. And she was going back to her real life. And she didn’t even know his name.

He pressed eight, then lifted his brows in her direction.

“Same,” she confirmed, her voice raspy over her dry throat.

Their gazes locked, and the air in the elevator seemed to thicken with anticipation.

The door slid shut.

“Imagine that,” Lucky observed.

Abigail’s skin tingled. She felt heat rush up from her toes to her scalp. She’d never, ever, not even once, had a one-night stand. But she was tempted tonight.

The elevator pinged to a stop.

The door slid open.

She exited first, turning left down the hallway, wondering what she could say, if she could say it, if she could possibly, actually bring herself to do it.

He fell into step, the heat from his body seeming to swirl out to touch her.

“Eight-nineteen,” he told her, extracting his key card, slowing to a stop.

“Eight-twenty,” she responded, stopping beside him.

He glanced down.

She looked up.

Her heart pounded hard against the inside of her chest. A roaring sound filled her ears. And her lungs labored as she moistened her dry lips.

He cocked his head ever so slightly toward his hotel-room door. “I’m thinking there’ll be a bottle of wine in my minibar.”

Abigail tried to make her head shake no, but somehow the message got scrambled. “Red or white?” she rasped instead.

“Either. Both. Whatever you want.”

She knew she should say good-night and leave. This was her last chance. If she walked into that hotel room, she would throw herself into Lucky’s arms, damn the consequences.

She couldn’t tell him no. But she couldn’t bring herself to say yes either.

He slipped the key into the lock, and the indicator light turned green. He pushed down on the handle, released the latch and yawned the door wide open.

Abigail took one step then another into his room, her shoes whispering against the thick carpet. The door whooshed shut behind them, clicking with finality.

From behind, Lucky gently touched her shoulder. He turned her, backed her slowly against the closed door, one hand tunneling into her hair, the other coming around her waist, pressing their bodies together while his lips came down on hers. They were firm, hot, moist and tender.

She gave in to the sensation, immediately kissing him back, grasping his arms, steadying herself against the steel of his biceps. She opened wide, welcoming his tongue, marveling at his sweet taste, his masculine scent and the feel of his thighs hard against her own.

He broke the kiss, speaking huskily against her lips. “I’ve been dying to do that all night long.”

“Are we crazy?” she felt compelled to ask, lips hot and swollen, desire permeating every cell of her body.

He captured her gaze once more. “I don’t particularly care.”

She couldn’t help smiling at that. “Am I going to sound preposterous if I say I’ve never done anything like this before?”

“You haven’t done anything yet.”

“I’m about to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Glad to hear it.” He kissed her again, longer and deeper, his fingertips finding their way up her spine.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, tipping back, abandoning herself to the passion building inside her body. She was an adult woman. She wasn’t reckless, and she wasn’t foolish. She’d thought this through, and she wanted to be with Lucky tonight.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, smoothing his hand along her shoulder. He pushed her shoulder strap out of the way. Then he tenderly kissed her shoulder and eased the other strap down. “Amazing,” he mumbled, kissing his way along her neck. The back of his knuckles brushed the tip of her breast, and she sucked in a breath in response. “I am the luckiest guy on the planet.”

“Is that why they call you Lucky?”

He stilled, lips brushing against the tender hollow of her neck. “You’re making a joke?”

“I am,” she offered without a trace of apology.

He kissed her again, more firmly this time, drawing her tongue into his scorching mouth. “Well, I’m not going to keep calling you Doll-Face.”

“Oh, yes, you are.”

“What’s your real name?”

“Uh-uh.” She shook her head.

“You sure about that?”

“I’m sure.”

His hands slid their way down to her wrists, and he backed her tighter against the door. “Okay. Then that’s pretty hot.”

She tipped her chin. “You’re pretty hot.”

“I’m about to get hotter.” His eyes turned to molten chocolate, and a split second later he was kissing her mouth, harder, deeper. One hand slipped up her back, finding her zipper, pulling it down. The tight bodice gave way.

In return, she reached for his shirt buttons, plunking the disks through the open holes, revealing his chest, running her fingers over his bare skin.

He gave a tug on her dress, and it slid to the floor, freeing her bare breasts and pooling in a heap around her feet.

He drew back, his breath whistling out. “Where have you been hiding all my life?”

“Colorado.” She pulled his shirttails out of his pants, and stripped the shirt off his shoulders.

He was absolutely magnificent, and they both stilled, staring at each other in silence.

He lifted his broad hand, cupping her face with his palm, leaning in ever so slowly. Her eyes fluttered closed. She inhaled deeper. Her lips parted, and she eased toward him, twining her arms around his neck, feeling his heated skin press tight against her breasts, as his lips came down in a tender kiss that drew itself out for long minutes.

His free hand slipped over the curve of her hip. There, his fingers paused, slipping beneath the strand of her panties. His other hand slid up to cup her breast. Her nipples instantly beaded, and his palm closed around her. His kisses grew more insistent, longer, until they were both gasping for breath.

He kissed her neck, dipping to a breast, drawing the taut nipple into his mouth. Her hands fisted hard, and she moaned at a sensation she’d never experienced. What was he doing? How was he doing it?

Cool air replaced the heat of his mouth, and she loved the contrast. He switched to the other breast, causing cascades of desire to roll through her.

She needed to do something.

She was just standing here.

She ran her palms up his chest, feeling the burn of his skin, testing the muscles she knew would be steel hard. Then she worked her way down, over the six-pack of his abs, to the waistband of his pants, popping the button and lowering his zipper.

He grabbed her wrist. “I want this to go slow.”

“Sure,” she agreed, even though her mind screamed for speed. She brushed her knuckles against him.

“You want it slow?” he growled.

“No.”

He stilled for a second. Then he hoisted her into his arms. “Good.”

He turned in the foyer, cutting across the oversize room, past the sofa, the armchair and television. He set her on her feet next to a king-size bed.

His hands went to his waistband, stripping off his pants and everything else.

She kicked off her sandals and dispensed with the panties.

She straightened, and they both stilled.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and she felt the edge of her mouth draw into a smile.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She dared to reach out, tracing her index finger along his smooth, warm chest. He looked even better out of his clothes than he had in them, and that was saying something.

He took a half step forward. “Is this a dream?”

“I sure hope not.”

“Things like this. Things like you don’t happen in real life.”

“I’m real.”

“You’re amazing.”

Impatient, she took his hand, backing her way to the bed, where she sank down.

His gaze stayed molten on her naked body as he extracted a packet from his wallet and dropped the wallet to the floor.

“I can make this slow,” he offered again.

She shook her head. “You’re my torrid one-night stand.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered.

She smiled saucily in return. This was the only time she was ever going to do this, and she was going to get it right. “Show me what you’ve got.”

He cupped his hands beneath her arms, lifting her, pushing her farther onto the bed, laying her back. His voice was a deep baritone, rumbling through her. “Seriously. Where in the hell have you been all my life?”

She didn’t have time to answer because his mouth came down on hers. His body covered her own, pressing her against the soft mattress.

He toured her body with rapid but thorough kisses, while she explored the contours and angles of his. Within minutes, they were face-to-face, him on top, staring into each other’s eyes in the dimly lit room.

He flexed, and she moaned, welcoming him inside, arching her back, wrapping her legs, as he set an insistent rhythm that made her head tip back and her eyes close tight. Desire overwhelmed her, and she gripped the comforter, straining for his kisses, her toes curling as he inflamed the passion at her core.

Time lost all meaning. Her body felt somehow weightless. Reality contracted to the feel, the scent and the sound of this man. His ragged breath murmured in her ear. His damp body scorched her skin. And she dragged his essence into her lungs, holding it tight, imprinting it on her subconscious so she could relive it over and over again.

She held on as long as she could, not wanting it to end. But it was a losing battle. A pulse began deep inside her, building to a tidal wave of ecstasy. She clung tightly to him, her cries mingling with his groans, as she crested for an eternity, the intense rush leaving her limp and gasping.

Her chest rose and fell against Lucky’s comfortable weight. He braced himself on his elbows, rising slightly above her, sweat glistening his brow, breath fanning from between his parted lips.

They stared at each other in silence.

“That was…” His breathless voice trailed away.

She was similarly struggling for words. “It was,” she agreed.

His smile widened. “Somehow we both seem to know just the right thing to say.”

A small chuckle formed in her chest. “What do you usually say?”

He smoothed her hair behind one ear. “I have no comparables. You have no comparables. You are one of a kind, Doll-Face.”

“That was an awfully good line,” she acknowledged.

“It wasn’t a line.”

They both fell silent, their breathing synchronizing.

His tone when low and intimate. “Should I ask if it was good for you?”

It was the best sex she’d ever had. Hands down.

Without waiting for an answer, he shifted, taking more of his own weight. “You want that wine now, or are you ready for breakfast?”

Abigail glanced to the digital clock glowing on the nightstand. It was four-thirty in the morning. She blinked against grainy exhaustion. “It’s pretty much a toss-up between night and morning, isn’t it?”

He eased onto his side, propping himself on his elbow, one thigh staying angled across her legs. He brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek. “I’d like it to still be night.”

She drank in the sensation of that intimate touch. “I’d like it to still be dinner.”

He eased closer. “So we can start our evening all over again?”

She pretended he might have it wrong. “Yeah. Sure. Well, that and the mountain burger.”

Closer still, he brought his teeth gently down on her earlobe. “Liar.”

“Egomaniac.”

“Am I wrong?”

She played dumb. “About what?”

He glanced at the clock. “About us wanting to stop time.”

She sobered. Then she shook her head. He wasn’t wrong. But that didn’t change anything. “It’s a stolen night,” she reminded him. They both had places to go and things to do.

“When do you have to leave?”

“Early.” She was meeting her brother at the campaign office to close things up before she drove back to the ranch.

Lucky cradled her cheek, placing a long, tender kiss on her swollen lips. When it ended, his arm eased around the small of her back. “But not yet?”

“Not yet,” she agreed, desire rising inside her.

He kissed her again, and again, longer and sweeter each time.

“Tell me your name,” he demanded.

She shook her head.

“I need to know.” He drew back, obviously determined to withhold more kisses until she answered.

Instead, she reached up, slipping her arms around his neck.

He tensed against her pull, resisting, but then he gave in, allowing her to bring him in for a kiss. She twined her naked body around his.

“Oh, Doll-Face,” he groaned, capitulating to their passion. He wrapped his strong arms fully around her, holding her close and igniting a new burn deep inside.

“There you are, Abby.” Abigail’s oldest brother, Seth, mayor-elect of Lyndon City, zeroed in on her as she entered the campaign office on Main Street.

Cardboard boxes covered every available surface, stuffed with leftover posters, flyers, buttons and campaign literature. Half a dozen campaign volunteers were carting boxes and other materials out the back door to waiting pickup trucks, while the staffers who would form the core of Seth’s mayoral staff clicked away on their laptop computers or talked on telephones.

Seth tucked a pen into his shirt pocket as he moved across the storefront shop toward her. “I didn’t see you at the fireworks last night.”

“Weren’t they great?” she asked, avoiding any further explanation of where she’d been.

“The good folks of Lyndon know how to do it up right,” he agreed.

She gave him a quick hug. “The good folks of Lyndon are excited about their new mayor.”

Seth pulled back with a grin. “The display was planned weeks before the votes were cast.”

She winked at him. “But I’m sure they’d have canceled if you hadn’t won.”

He scoffed out a laugh. “Since we both know you’re not naive, I’m going to assume that’s blind loyalty talking.”

“That’s supreme confidence talking.” She patted him on the shoulder as she glanced around the messy office. “You need any help here?” She was more than a little anxious to get herself out of town. Last night Lucky had said he was just passing through Lyndon. He might very well have left town already. But she didn’t want to risk running into him.

She’d sneaked out of his hotel room and back to hers as soon as he fell asleep last night. Though the soft bed, the thick quilt and Lucky’s warm, strong body had been powerful draws, she hadn’t wanted to risk facing him in the morning. Better to leave things on a high note. A very high note. Wow, had that ever been a high note.

“Abby?” Seth prompted, waving his palm in front of her face.

“The financial records?”

“What about them?”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.”

Seth peered at her curiously. “I just asked if you could do a double check on the donation receipts. And Lisa needs a hand with the database.”

At the sound of her name, Lisa Thompson glanced up from a crowded desk in one corner of the room. “I want to make sure we have a clean backup copy before I delete all the information from the laptop. I’m planning to use it in the mayor’s office, so I have to get rid of all the campaign records.”

“Happy to help out,” Abigail agreed, telling herself the odds of seeing Lucky were low, particularly if she was hidden away in the back of the campaign office. She made her way across the room, weaving around the mess of chairs, desks, boxes and trash bins.

Seth’s cell phone rang, and he moved to a quiet corner near the back exit to answer the call.

Lisa, blonde, petite, freckled and perky, tracked Abigail’s progress from her office chair.

She waited until Abigail sat down and spun the chair, then she wheeled herself to face her. “So, what happened?” she demanded in a conspiratorial undertone.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s blatantly obvious you got laid last night.”

“What?” Abigail blurted, glancing swiftly around, making sure nobody could overhear them.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Lisa smacked her palm down on the padded arm of Abigail’s chair.

“I did not-”

“And don’t you dare lie to me either.” Lisa rocked back and crossed her arms over her gray Colorado Lions T-shirt, green eyes narrowing. Her voice stayed low. “Your cheeks are flushed. Your eyes are glowing gold. And there’s a spring in your step that wasn’t there at the party. Plus, you disappeared before ten last night, and I never saw you again. Neither did anyone else. Now, give.”

Abigail hesitated. She wanted to lie, but she knew she was trapped. Lisa had her dead to rights.

Obviously taking Abigail’s silence as an admission, Lisa grinned and leaned closer still. “Details, please.”

Abigail sent a worried glance toward Seth. “Don’t you dare tell-”

“I’m not going to tell anybody. I’m not a gossip.”

Abigail knew it was true. Lisa would be Seth’s executive assistant in the mayor’s office, in part because of her brilliance and hard work, but also because they’d learned she was the soul of discretion. She and Abigail had become quite close over the course of the campaign.

“So, what happened?” Lisa hissed. “Who was he?”

“Nobody you know.”

“How can you say that? I know lots of people. I’ve met half the town in the last three months.”

“He’s not from here.”

“Ooh.” Lisa’s eyes sparkled. “Where’s he from? What’s he do? What’s his name? Is he hot?”

“I don’t know.”

Lisa drew back. “You don’t know if he’s hot?”

“I don’t know his name,” Abigail admitted sheepishly. “I don’t know what he does. And I don’t know where he’s from.”

Lisa’s mouth opened, then her expression turned positively gleeful. “You had a one-night stand with a stranger?”

Abigail lowered her own voice even further. “Yes.”

Lisa’s hand tightened on Abigail’s arm, as if to hold her in place. “Was he hot?”

“Yes.” Hot didn’t begin to describe Lucky. In fact, even now, Abigail’s body responded with an embarrassing level of arousal at the mere memory of Lucky naked, laconic, gazing at her with that lazy half smile.

“You go, Abby!”

“Shh.”

“Yes. Of course. Wow. No wonder you don’t want to tell Seth.”

“I don’t want to tell anyone.”

Lisa gave a series of rapid nods. “Got it. But if you don’t know his name, how are you going to see him again?”

“I’m not.” Abigail wouldn’t. She couldn’t. No matter how much she wished she could.

“But if he’s hot and, well, if the look in your eyes is anything to go by, maybe you want to-”

“Lisa, look up the definition of one-night stand.”

“One-night stands can turn into something else, you know.”

Abigail coughed on a laugh, seizing on the chance to turn the tables. “Actually, I wouldn’t know. Would you?”

Lisa wrinkled her nose in the air. “No. Not that there’s anything wrong in it. Not with the right person. You know, in the right circumstance.”

“Last night was the right circumstance.” Abigail wasn’t going to regret last night. She refused to regret last night.

She’d never met a man remotely like Lucky. The memory of his voice made her tingle, and the thought of his kisses brought a flood of desire. Her real world was closing in fast, dragging her back into its clutches, while the exhilarating escape with Lucky secretly pulsed just below her skin. She’d lock it away where no one could see, but where she could pull it out to relive that treasured night over and over again.

Fall was on its way to Lyndon Valley. Work on the ranch would begin in earnest now, starting with the roundup. But when the wind howled down from the Rockies, or when she was bone tired out on the range, she’d remember the feel of Lucky’s strong arms around her, the heat of his body against her, his whispered words, his endearing sense of humor and the way he’d made her feel like the only woman in the world.