My heart sinks.

Well...if he's trying to sell me on this, this is definitely not the right approach.

"Please remember, I'm telling you this because I don't want you to have any illusions, or come into this unprepared for the reality of such a situation," he explains. "I want you to know exactly what to expect. If you do this, I don't want you to regret it."

"How very considerate of you," I offer, not hiding the sarcasm in my voice.

Yes, it's decided...I'm definitely not doing this.

We sit in silence for what seems like eternity. His gaze studies mine, and I think he understands I don't want to do this. His hand reaches for my face and cups my cheek. The warmth of his hand on my skin sends shivers through my spine.

"I antic.i.p.ated this," he says, his words almost inaudible. "Someone like you...you're not cut out for this," he adds as his hand leaves me.

I want his hand on my face again. I want his touch again-it makes me feel so alive.

"I shouldn't have even asked," he says, staring down at his shiny black dress shoes.

If his hand on my face can evoke this sensation within me, I can only imagine...I've never wanted a man this much.

"I want you," I say, my words soft.

He looks up at me and fixes me without a word for the longest time.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Considering all I've just told you?"

"Yes."

"And you can remain emotionally distant?"

"Yes. I'm very physically attracted to you, Weston. I want to touch you. And I want you to touch me. I want your body against mine. But that's it."

He swallows hard-I think I've caught him off guard. His gaze is fixed on me, his eyes dark.

"I love my husband. And I don't want to jeopardize my marriage."

Gabe.

Oddly enough, I hadn't been thinking about Gabe.

"You and your husband should discuss this thoroughly. Must discuss this thoroughly," he clarifies. "You must both be completely sure you want to do this. And if you both agree, we'll all meet to go over the details."

"There's more?" I almost snap. "I thought we just went over the details."

"Like I've mentioned," a little smile curving on his lip, "it's quite complicated."

Yes, I think...that's the understatement of the year.

Chapter Nine.

The ground rules.

I'M STANDING ON MY DOORSTEP, clutching my briefcase, not really wanting to go in and face Gabe.

I don't remember how I got here.

The ride from Weston's office to my house was a complete blur. So many things whirled in my brain on the way over here. How do I tell Gabe about this? Will he want to do this? Or will he want to go beat the life out of Weston? I honestly don't know how he'll react.

I hang my jacket and take off my shoes.

Claire runs up to me and gives me a big hug. "We missed you, Mommy." I'm flattered-I've only been gone for a few hours.

"Daddy made us pizza," Chloe informs me. "He put mushrooms on it, which I told him I didn't like. But he put them on anyway."

Gabe is standing, dish cloth in hand, with a curious expression. I know he wants to know everything. "So how did it go? What did he want?"

I close my eyes. I can't even get into it right now. "Did the girls do their homework yet?"

"Yes," he almost snaps. I can tell the suspense is killing him.

"Good," I say. "Listen. I can't discuss the meeting right now. We'll put them straight in their pajamas and put on a movie."

"A movie," Chloe squeals. "But it's Tuesday. It's not movie night."

I stroke her head, thinking this is definitely no ordinary Tuesday. "It's your lucky night, I guess."

"Yay! Yay! Yay!" Both girls squeal and literally jump up and down. Well, at least some of us will be happy at the end of the night.

Gabe looks at me with a quizzical expression. "That serious, huh?"

"You have no idea."

Gabe stares at me, slack-jawed. "Are you joshing me, Ella?"

We're sitting on our bed. I've locked the door. And I've told him all about the meeting and what Weston and Bridget have proposed.

"No, Gabe. This is the real deal."

He shakes his head. "I can't believe it."

I notice he doesn't seem upset, which is a great relief. Last thing I need is Gabe going over to Weston's office tomorrow, beating the s.h.i.t out of him, and getting arrested.

A slow smile stretches across his face. "They really don't strike me as the foursome type," he says. "They're so conservative. And he seems so uptight."

"I know. He is uptight. G.o.d, you should see his office. And it's not a foursome...it's a 'couple exchange.'" I cringe a little-I'm starting to sound like Weston.

"Call it what you want, but it's kind of hot."

I smile. "Is it?"

"I'm hard just thinking about it, babe."

Well, of course you are.

I laugh a little, not sure if he's joking or not. "You're hard thinking about you and her having s.e.x."

He stretches his long body on the bed, shirtless and looking impossibly s.e.xy. Bridget wants him, and she hasn't even seen him naked-she'll go absolutely crazy when she sees his tattoos. "s.e.x. Exactly. That's exactly what it would be, wouldn't it, Ella?" he asks, his voice softer than usual. "Like Weston told you...it's just s.e.x."

I can sense Gabe is very interested in this proposal. Part of me is shocked, and part of me isn't shocked at all. Who could blame him? Weston dangles a mighty fine carrot-I don't think I've ever seen a woman more beautiful than Bridget. Ordinarily, I would be insanely jealous at the thought. But my desire to be with Weston has rendered me temporarily blind...and possibly mad.

"How would you feel, knowing I was intimate with another man?" I ask him. "I've only ever been yours." This is a big deal for me. Gabe is the only one I've ever been with. He had been with two girls before me. But I was still a virgin when we met.

He's quiet. He seems to be pondering my question with great intensity. "I'd be jealous, I won't lie," he admits. "But if it's just s.e.x. Then, that's all it is."

"Of course you'd be jealous. That's what concerns me. Right now this isn't real. It's easy to say 'it's just s.e.x.'"

He winces a little but doesn't say a word. I've given him something to think about.

"Wouldn't you be worried I'd fall in love with him?" I venture. "You know how sentimental I am."

"C'mon, the man's like a robot." He scowls. "To be honest, I have a really hard time picturing you two even having s.e.x. I mean...that's why the whole thing shocks me."

I don't respond, but his words cut a little. He doesn't know Weston-he shouldn't say these things.

"You seriously want to be with him?" he asks. "I know the man looks like a GQ cover, but personality has to count for something too, doesn't it?" he asks me, not waiting for an answer. "I didn't think you were the type to fall for someone purely on looks."

I want to tell him I'm not. I want to tell him he doesn't know him. I want to tell him Weston is a sensitive, sweet, introverted, creative, cerebral man who seems to be lost in his own little world-and that's the part I find most incredibly s.e.xy. But I don't say any of these things.

"Well, like we said, it's just about s.e.x, isn't it," I say, trying to convince myself.

"You want to do this?" he asks.

I so badly want to do this. But I'm so scared. But if Gabe is willing to do this, maybe I shouldn't worry so much. Maybe I should loosen up and just go for it, live a little for once. But I worry that we're not thinking straight. We can't possibly put our marriage in jeopardy because of l.u.s.t. He's says it's cool now, but how will he feel when he knows I've been intimate with someone else? And how will I feel, knowing he's been with Bridget? He doesn't realize what he's saying. I want to tell him all this, but I'm afraid he'll change his mind if I do. And I don't want that because I crave Weston so badly. I am out of my mind.

"Only if you do," I finally manage, the words small.

We spend almost two hours discussing the issue and what it would mean for us, for our relationship, for our family. And we somehow convince ourselves it might even improve our relationship, particularly our s.e.x life, pointing out that ever since we've met Weston and Bridget, we've been boinking like bunnies. We convince ourselves of all this and completely disregard all the possible risks, because of only one thing-we're aroused by the idea.

We're h.o.r.n.y...it's that simple.

That night, we make love, or rather, we have s.e.x.

Because that's exactly what it is. Gabe and I rarely make love anymore. We mostly have s.e.x, and I suppose I don't mind it either since I always climax. Sometimes we cuddle afterward, and that's probably my favorite part.

Tonight, we cuddle.

Weston has asked me to contact him directly on his mobile after I've spoken with Gabe. My fingers are shaking a little as I dial his number. As his cell rings, I hope to get him on the phone because there's no way I can leave a message about this.

What am I going to say?

Weston, Mirella here. Gabe and I have discussed your proposal. And the answer is yes. You have the official go to do with me what you will.

But seriously, I really don't want to leave a message. My legs are a little wobbly, and I take a seat in the desk chair. And thankfully, on the fourth ring, he answers.

"h.e.l.lo, Mirella," he says. His voice is soft and almost brings me to my knees.

"Hi, Weston, how are you?" I ask, absentmindedly rearranging the objects on the desk, aligning the keyboard, mouse pad, pens, and papers at perfect angles.

"I'm well. Thank you. And you?"

Are we really doing this formal small-talk?

Aren't we past that?

My palm is sweaty against the receiver. I don't think any man has ever made me this nervous-any person, for that matter. "I'm...I'm good, Weston. I wanted to tell you Gabe and I spoke..." For some reason, I can't bring myself to say the rest.

"And?" he says, his voice hopeful.

"We'd like to meet to go over the details."

There's a pause on the line. And I fear he's changed his mind.

"I'm very glad to hear that, Mirella." I can almost hear the smile on his face-he sounds happy. "I'll have Kathryn call you and set up the details."

I don't know what to say. It all seems so formal. It shouldn't be so formal, should it? And for a brief moment, I have my doubts again.

I stare out the window. The kid from next door zooms by on his bike. "I'm looking forward to seeing you," I say, my words hesitant.

"Me too."

After a beat, he says, "Well, I should go. I'm in a meeting at the moment. We'll talk to you shortly."

"Yes, good-bye," I say, wondering what the h.e.l.l just happened.

"Good-bye."

The line goes dead.