He felt dizzy and disoriented.

Daley reached for his hands and placed them on her body. He cupped lush curves and gently touched nipples that puckered beneath his fingers. “You make me ache,” he muttered. “Every time it’s like I’m seeing you fresh and new.” He bent his head and kissed the valley of her cleavage. “I’m glad you came home with me.”

Her hands cupped his head, ruffled his hair. “Me too.”

The room was silent, too silent. He could hear himself breathe. The cadence was revealing. She had to know how desperately hungry he was. Music would have eased the moment, but it was too late now.

When he reached behind her to find the hook at her waist, she rested her cheek on his chest and sighed. “This is nice.”

It wasn’t the adjective he would have chosen, but the dreamy pleasure in her words was enough. Carefully, he lowered the zipper until she could step out of the voluminous skirt. He steadied her and set the dress aside on a chair. When he turned back, Daley had wrapped her arms around her breasts. She wore nothing but a pair of sexy undies—black lace—cut high at the leg and low at the waist.

Her posture and her gaze were wary.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

“Nothing. But I’m at a disadvantage. May I take over now?”

He held out his arms. “Be my guest.”

Her expression was endearingly intent as she fumbled with the knot in his bow tie. When she finally had it free, she started in on the buttons of his shirt. He realized he was holding his breath. He tried to exhale without making it obvious.

Soon, she had him bare from the waist up. The air-conditioning in his house was plenty cool, but his skin was hot. Especially where she touched him.

When she managed to get his pants unzipped, his patience snapped. He backed away from her, ripped them down to his ankles and then had to hop around when everything got tangled up.

Daley had the audacity to giggle.

While he fumbled to free himself, she ditched her undies, crawled onto the bed and stretched out on her back, tucking her hands behind her head. The smug little smile on her face drove him crazy—urged him to work faster.

At last, he was free of the formal wear. And everything else.

He sprawled on top of her and buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, inhaling her light, tantalizing perfume. If it came down to a blind test, he was positive he could locate her in a dark room.

Between them, his erection pressed painfully.

He sighed. It was time for honesty. She deserved that. “Daley,” he said.

“Hmm?” She played with his ear.

“When you told me you had a date for the party tonight, it nearly killed me. I wanted to punch somebody. For the first time, I realized I had feelings for you. Something different than anything I’ve had with anybody else. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that.”

She shoved his shoulder, urging him off her so she could see his face as he rolled onto his side. Her gaze searched his eyes. “Tristan?”

“Yes, my sweet?”

“What if I wanted more from you than sex?”

His gut clenched. The snippet of alarm was a reflex, quickly gone. “Like what?”

“Companionship. Dating. A chance to see if we have anything beyond being great in bed. I like you a lot. At least I do when you’re not tormenting me and deliberately driving me crazy. I’m not saying you’re the one. But I’ve never wanted to explore the possibility with another guy. Not really. I’m putting you on the spot. I get that.”

He put a hand over her mouth. “You’re babbling, darlin’. The answer is yes.”

When she bit his finger playfully, he jerked back.

Her eyes widened with pleasant surprise. “It’s that easy? I thought you’d point out our reservations about upsetting the people we love and the fact that we’re now working together and that neither of us has any experience with commitment.”

He shrugged. “All those things are true. I can’t deny it. Plus, I can’t predict the future. So we may be making the biggest mistake of our lives.”