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mansion. We’ll be staying there.
    The boathouse? Both of them? Why?
    The pause was so long she jumped when his text finally arrived with his answer. Because I told you to go there.
    She read it twice. Probably because she had a mixed reaction to it. On the one hand she liked how confident he was, but on the other she wanted to shoot back the coordinates to where he could go. Six, six, six—straight to hell. She drew in a breath and then let it out in an aggravated huff. She’d be the bigger person. That would be fine. What time do you want me there?
    First thing. Nine.
    No sooner did she press the O for okay when her phone beeped again.
    And, Colin, I’m proud of you for biting your finger and not texting what you really wanted to say.
    She couldn’t help it, she laughed. Had to bite my finger. You don’t like it when I bite my nails.
    I’m glad you noticed that. You have elegant hands.
    How crazy was this? She was lying in the dark all by herself and she was blushing to the roots of her hair. Thanks.
    You are most welcome.
    I’ll see you tomorrow.
    I want you to see me tonight. Dream about me. Good night.
    She read those words and gasped. Quickly, before she changed her mind and did something stupid, like text him back, she put the phone down on her nightstand and pushed it as far away from her as possible. Settling under the blankets, she couldn’t get his words out of her head.
    “How did he know?”
    Ever since the night of the opening she’d not only been dreaming about him, but fantasizing as well. Day, night, morning, afternoon and even when she volunteered at the Salvation Army on Tuesday. Selma Murdock went into one of her long spiels about sweet potato casserole and all she could think of was how great Ethan’s sweet ass would look in a pair of well-worn blue jeans. By the time Selma got to the part in the recipe where it called for mini-marshmallows she had Ethan in those jeans and out of them—
    Ugh. She pulled a pillow over her face and screamed into it. Maybe Jo was right. Maybe she was insane.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Colin tossed her duffle bag down on the gravel drive and examined the boathouse. Last night when Ethan texted to tell her they’d be staying here instead of at the mansion, she’d been relieved. Now she wasn’t so sure. The place was bigger than she’d thought and it scared the ever-living hell out of her for no other reason than she knew the devil waited for her inside. But then recalling all her dreams she had to admit the guy was definitely sin-worthy material.
    Well, she’d made her pact and despite how many stellar points her best friend had cited to talk her out of it, she’d come as promised. A smile hovered on her lips as she recalled how Jo had accused her of being delusional and likened her agreeing to this ten-day-long sleepover with Master Dreamy to a weak-willed dieter camping out in a bakery.
    Personally, Colin thought her friend should have more faith in her. What was another ten days of abstinence compared to the three years, four months and sixteen days she’d already managed? With all that success behind her, the less-than-a-two-week stint in front of her should be a piece of cake. But then she recalled the lump of pudding he’d reduced her to the day they were locked in together and wanted to hang Jo for her bakery analogy. It was only making her hungry, and not for food.
    She sighed and leaned back against her car. Taking a gander at his sexy-looking ride parked on the only paved part of the gravel drive, she snorted. He probably had the area specifically laid with concrete because he didn’t want his precious sports number damaged by the rocks. He seemed like the type of guy who took care of his things. Why that should intrigue her was a mystery.
    He probably takes good care of his women.
    Mystery solved. Tamping down the blooming thrill that notion created, she plucked up her duffle and mentally repeated the mantra of “Ethan White is just a guy” over