"About ten years ago," Brent said with a self-deprecating laugh.

"Not so recent then," Nate said in a deadpan voice. "Sounds like she's still got a hold on you."

Brent shrugged, his way of saying yes. "College girlfriend. Haven't seen her in years."

"Well, I hope that changes-that is, if you want it to change."

Hell, did he ever want that to change. But he had no clue what Shannon was up to these days beyond a few posts she made on her Facebook profile, and chances were he wouldn't run into her again. He hadn't heard much from her since he'd walked away that night ten years ago.

He closed out the window, shifting gears, and showing Nate his vision for the nightclub.

After they discussed the logistics, Brent gestured to the door, and the world of the casino beyond it. "You up for a round of blackjack?"

"Hell yeah. I'm a gambler these days," Nate said. They left his office and headed to the casino floor at The Luxe.

"What is it that's making you a gambling man?"

"This and that," he said, as they parked themselves on stools at a nearby blackjack table, the hustle and bustle of the casino surrounding them, the slap of cards on tables, the cha-ching of money from slots, and the scent in the air of desire for bets to turn into bigger bets.

Brent didn't press it. Whatever Nate was betting on these days was clearly private.

Nate was betting on change. He was betting on possibilities. He was betting on hopefully someday soon having the guts to tell Casey how he was really feeling.

That prospect scared the hell out of him. He had no clue how to find the courage to even begin to verbalize all that he felt for her, and how much she was changing his ideas of everything he'd ever wanted in his post-Joanna life. In a few short weeks she'd upended his priorities, and had him considering everything he'd sworn off since he'd stumbled across the emails from Joanna and her professor.

But then, that wasn't entirely true. He hadn't only started thinking of Casey that way in recent weeks. Those notions had been forming since he had first started to get to know her. They'd simply elbowed their way to the front of the pack after he'd touched her, kissed her, held her, and experienced the magic of her coming apart in his arms. He supposed that was the power of such intimacy-it could shake a man to the core. It could change a man.

If he let it.

That was the big if.

That night in London had rocked his world, and had ended their roles as teacher and student. They'd become lovers for real. They'd been together like that again and again in New York when they returned, spending nights tangled up in each other, unable to resist touching, exploring, discovering the depths of their connection. The answer? It was endless.

Which was both wonderful and terrifying.

It was the dark unknown.

Maybe that was why neither one had said more about what the night in London meant. All he'd managed was to let her know that he didn't want this time with her to end. Which was terribly unfair because he knew deep down that he could never be enough for her long-term, and he'd have to figure out what the hell to do with this crazy mass of emotions that was rattling around in his head and in his heart.

For now, he had a soft seventeen, so he asked the dealer to hit. He was willing to take a chance on twenty-one. He overshot though, and lost a handful of chips to the house.

"Win some, lose some," he said to Brent, and the two men played a few more rounds.

Later that afternoon, he settled into his seat on the Gulfstream, along with a pack of Chihuahua-Mini Pin mixes from a local shelter that was overrun with dogs. They were sharing the flight with him from Vegas to Manhattan, en route to their new homes. The tiniest of the crew had insisted on curling up in his lap, a small brown and tan creature who liked to snuggle.

The flight attendant stopped by and stroked the little dog's head, then rested her hand on the armrest. A brunette with a gorgeous figure, she was exactly the type of pretty that would have lured him to talk to her had he met her at a bar-his type being sexy and someone he never expected to see more than three times.

But he had no desire for her.

He had no desire for anyone but his good friend who had rocked his body, his head, his heart, and his whole entire world.

"The pilot said we'll be ready to go in five minutes, Mr. Harper. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"I'm all set," he said, and she returned to the front of the cabin.

His phone buzzed, and he checked the new message. It was a text from Jack. He read the note and laughed. Rather than text back, he gave him a ring.

"Lucky me. A phone call from my best man," Jack said when he answered.

Nate laughed. "Yeah, and to answer your question, I'm pretty sure there are no strip clubs at my property in the Maldives."

"Damn. I was really looking forward to a lap dance at my bachelor party."

"Sorry to let you down," Nate said, but it was all in jest. Jack had no plans for a bachelor party, and certainly none at a strip club. He wasn't the strip club type, nor was Nate, for that matter. Besides, there was only one woman he wanted to see stripping- Shit.

It hit Nate like a flying ton of bricks. It wasn't as if he'd forgotten Casey was Jack's sister, but it simply hadn't mattered much when they were merely messing around. Now it mattered, and Nate was going to have to man up and say something to Jack. Something like, "I'm falling for your sister." Or maybe something closer to the truth. "I've been crazy about her for years, and I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual, and I have no clue what to do about it, and if I hurt her I will hate myself forever and ever, and I don't know how to not hurt her, but I don't know how to not be with her either. Got any advice?"

But his flight had begun to taxi, so now was not the time for that conversation. Perhaps next week, when Nate saw his buddy in person. Actually, that would have to be item number one on his agenda since there was no way Jack, or Michelle especially, would miss the vibes between him and Casey.

They chatted for another minute, then Nate told him the plane was about to take off. He said goodbye, then quickly fired off a text to the woman who was front and center for him: Looking forward to seeing you later tonight. Your place?

They'd been at his home a few times, and at her apartment the other nights. Her next-door-neighbor had even started saying hello to him when they ran into each other in the hall. There was something that felt right about being a part of her life like that.

Then he added one more line to the text before he sent it off.

Thanks again for helping with the sculpture.

As promised, Casey had helped him find the one-time wedding gift on a back shelf of his closet, then boxed it up for him. He'd told Joanna he'd deliver it to the gallery where she was showing some of her work. Casey had offered to take it, but he couldn't let her do all his dirty work. Besides, if he was going to move forward with her, he had to be man enough to face his ex-wife, even if it was simply to hand over a sculpture.

Once the jet was airborne, he reviewed the formal proposal that Casey had sent him for The Luxe's rollout of the pleasure packs in some of their resorts, with the LolaRing as the centerpiece. He sent a few minor notes back, suggesting they announce the pending deal soon. All in all, it looked good, and they were on the same page when it came to marketing-no need to say it felt like being licked and fucked at the same time. For the business deal, they'd decided to go with her classier suggestion for their honeymoon suite wording: You've given her a diamond ring, now give her the LolaRing. An exclusive partnership, it made The Luxe the only hotel chain in the world to partner with Joy Delivered on the new product's launch.

Funny how all the details of their business deal were laid out in black and white, and all the specifics of their lessons had been determined in advance. But now, he was flying blindly with Casey, operating without a guidebook, and completely unsure how to navigate this new stretch they'd encountered.

He only hoped he didn't crash.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

New York, same day . . .

As Casey finished a sip of her cinnamon dolce latte, she tossed out a question that had been nagging at her.

"I have no clue how to do this, Jane. When I see him tonight, do I just say I'm absolutely crazy for you and I want to have a go at this for real?"

Jane nodded enthusiastically. "That's certainly one way you can do it. Just be completely direct and upfront with him," her friend suggested, as she drank her tea.

"It's not as if I've had the best luck being totally direct with men," Casey said. She'd caught Jane up to speed with the Nate situation, from how it had started, to how it had changed, and to what she wanted now with him. The answer to that was starkly clear. She wanted him all to herself for a long, long time. She had never expected this to happen, but she'd fallen for him something fierce. He was tender and protective, funny and smart, and so damn passionate. Her intensity for him knew no bounds, and she was sure he was crazy for her too, even though he hadn't said as much in words. The connection between them, though, was so strong that neither one could stay away from each other. The last few nights had been nothing short of amazing.

They hadn't tried to put a label on what was happening, but Casey knew herself, and she couldn't do casual. She needed to define what they were and where they were going. She needed to know if there was a real future, like she longed for. The best way to do that was to be straightforward and put it all on the table, even though the thought of that terrified her, given her track record of speaking her mind with men.

"From what you told me, Nate doesn't seem to be like those other guys you dated. Those assholes who had a problem with you saying what you wanted."

"He's definitely in a class by himself," she said.

Jane slapped the table with her palm. "Then go for it. Tell him how you feel."

"How is it that you've never had this problem with men? You're a rock star. I can't imagine anybody more intimidating than you," Casey asked.

Jane laughed. "Oh, maybe it had a little something to do with the fact that my first husband turned out to be gay and I fell madly in love with the next guy I was involved with," Jane said with a laugh. At least she was able to joke about that heartbreak now.

Casey laughed. "Good point. Fine, you win."

Jane raised her arms in victory, then turned serious. "But for what it's worth, I do think you should just be up front with him. At the least the two of you can know what you're dealing with."

"What if I lose him as a friend though? I hate the thought of that happening."

"I think the more direct you are now, the better off you'll be at staying in each other's lives in whatever capacity that is," Jane said.

Casey nodded several times as if this conversation was giving her the courage to show her cards to the man she was falling for. He was on his way back from Vegas and she was looking forward to seeing him tonight after he returned Joanna's sculpture. He'd insisted on doing it himself, and she had to admit she was proud of him for facing up to what scared him the most-Joanna and all the pain she'd caused him.

As they cleared their mugs and left the coffee shop, the name Grant Abbot flashed across her phone. Her blood froze. He was supposed to be overseas still, and she'd planned on telling him when he returned that things had changed, and her heart was elsewhere. She took a deep, fueling breath, steeling herself, then answered with a breezy and business-like hello.

"Any chance you would be free for a drink this evening? I find myself in New York City sooner than expected and I'll be in the mood for a cocktail tonight."

Casey gulped. A flock of nerves swept through her body. She could hardly believe that three weeks ago she wanted to seduce him, and now the prospect held no interest for her. But she also didn't want to leave the man hanging. Being upfront with Nate would need to start with Grant. She'd have to let him know they were only in business together, and nothing more. Perhaps, the timing was serendipitous. She'd end things before they started with Grant, then she'd start something more with Nate.

She gave Grant the address for Speakeasy and said she'd see him there this evening. She returned to the office, plowed through work, and finally remembered to respond to Ethan Holmes.

She clicked on his note from nearly two weeks ago, then opened the attachment and read his proposal. He was a smart guy, and it was ironic because he'd suggested something a bit similar to the deal she and Nate were finalizing. Ethan didn't know about the LolaRing. Joy Delivered was keeping the new toy under wraps until the official launch later this summer. Ethan had, however, suggested the Victoria Hotels start offering The Wild One, a popular toy in the Joy Delivered catalogue, as part of a "Late-Night Sex Toy Menu to satisfy the red-hot appetites!"

He hadn't quite hit the mark with the brand positioning she'd established at Joy Delivered-discreet, sexy and sensual being the watchwords. Nonetheless, she admired his gumption, so she fired off a quick reply: Love the concept! Really appreciate you thinking of us. There's so much I like about this proposal, but we are in the process of finalizing a deal with another hotel, so we'll have to pass at the moment.

Then, because it was always best to leave future partnerships open, she added a final line.

Looking forward to exploring possibilities with you! Drinks soon?

The idea did have some merit though. Maybe not for Joy Delivered, but perhaps for another company. Casey was friendly with one of Joy Delivered's competitors, Good Vibes, and could envision Ethan's concept working better for that firm. So she typed once more: I actually have a great idea for this. Let me make some calls and I'll get back to you.

When she gathered up her purse a bit later to head out for her meeting with Grant, she clicked on her text messages. Laying it on the table with Nate could start with this level of honesty-the one hundred percent kind, so she hit reply on the note he'd sent her before he left.

Hi. Grant Abbot is in town. I'm meeting him for drinks to discuss our deal. I plan to let him know as well that I'm taken these days. Speaking of taken, perhaps you can take me tonight.

She hit send. There. It wasn't so hard taking that first step.

When she reached Speakeasy, she said hello to Julia behind the bar, then gave a quick hug to her husband, Clay, who was enjoying a scotch and chatting with his wife as she mixed drinks.

"Didn't think we'd see you until the flight next week," he said, since he and Julia, along with Michelle's brother and his wife, would be sharing Nate's plane to the Maldives.

"You know I can't resist Speakeasy," Casey told him, then gestured to a booth. "I'm meeting a business associate. I better go grab a spot."

"See you soon."

A few minutes later Grant strolled in, scanning for her, then grinning widely when he spotted her. She waved, and soon he was wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace. He was, as always, a handsome devil. And though she'd been keen on him for a year, whatever had been there was gone. She felt nothing-no spark, no zing, not even a frisson of attraction. That was good. After all, she was downright crazy for another man, and she didn't want to feel anything for anyone but Nate.

Even so, she felt a bit like a first-class jerk knowing she was about to break up with the guy before they'd even started.

"Such a delight to see you again," he said, and then slid into the booth. He signaled a waiter, ordered a vodka, then shot her a smile once more. He'd always been an outgoing guy, but oddly enough he seemed less flirty this time, and more . . . friendly. As they chatted about their deal, she noticed his innuendo was gone, and he was simply being straightforward.

Which was exactly what she needed to be with him.

"Grant, I'm so glad you're here and that everything is all set for our rollout. I do need to be upfront though about the other matters we talked about in New Orleans-the possibility of us getting together," she began, keeping her voice as business-like and cordial as she could.

He held up a hand to stop her, shaking his head, and grinning.

"Actually, I need to be direct with you too. And I need to say I'm sorry if I led you on," he said, his Southern charm shining through in his tone. But the words surprised her.

She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean, Grant?"

He took a deep breath. "You see, I have a natural tendency to be flirty, and I should truly curb that habit. I've been told, in fact, that I'm too much of a flirt. I would never cross the line with a business partner, so I hope you'll forgive me if I made you think otherwise in New Orleans. I remain, as ever, completely committed to our business deal. But I wanted to make it abundantly clear that I should not have been trafficking in so much innuendo that evening. Do forgive me."

Casey was in the twilight zone. Up was down, down was up, and inside was out. While she came here to be up front with him and tell him that her heart was elsewhere, it turned out that he hadn't even thought of her that way. And though she never regretted any of her nights with Nate and where those lessons had taken them, she couldn't help but feel like a stupid idiot for having misread Grant so badly.

However, she had no intention of revealing that her man radar was this faulty. Better that they have a good laugh about it than he take her for the fool that she was.

She forced out a laugh, hoping it sounded legitimate. "Grant, you have nothing to apologize for. I've looked at you as a solid and dependable business partner and I couldn't be more thrilled that everything is all set for launch. As for being a flirt, who isn't every now and then?" she said, in the best flirty voice that she could muster in that moment, hoping it covered up all the embarrassment she felt inside at having been so far off the mark with him.

He mimed wiping his brow. "Whew. I'm just glad we're all good."

"We are all good," she said, flashing the biggest, brightest smile she could. "Now, let's talk about how things are going to work as we rollout in a month," she said and they focused on business for the rest of the time until she said goodbye and walked away from Speakeasy, weaving through the evening crowds in midtown, keeping her chin held high, until she finally let a few stupid tears fall. She should be happy. This was what she wanted. A clean break from any complications, and the chance to move forward with Nate, having taken care of the Grant Abbot problem.

But Grant Abbot had never truly been a problem, and once again Casey was left feeling like she had no clue what a man wanted from her.

What if she had it all wrong with Nate too?

She stopped in her tracks, grabbing onto the doorframe of an apartment building to steady herself as her heart plummeted. If she had misread the situation with Grant that badly, was she misreading things with Nate? He hadn't said how he felt about her.

Just like Grant had never said it either.

Sure, she knew Nate enjoyed the sex, but had he ever remotely suggested he wanted more with her? The same kind of more that she wanted? The sidewalk swayed beneath her, and her stomach roiled with the answer-no.