He paused before answering. Pretending at considering her question Dylan did what he’d done most of the dinner—observe her. She folded her arms under her breasts pushing them up in a way he’d have to be blind to not notice. Her beauty under the dim lighting of her dining room fixture radiated a soft candle-like glow. Her skin an even almond-shade of brown seemed to absorb the rays. Under careful scrutiny he soon realized a secret truth that the beauty before his eyes came from within her. A smile, gesture of her hand swiping at her hair, the sound of her laughter all of her permeated with such sultry sexiness that he suffered.

Dylan struggled with many things. Mostly with recalling what his investigators said of her, her past, her former lover. Of course the snooping through her life was a complete violation of her privacy and any slither of trust between them. But he was a desperate man. Desperation makes one sloppy, messy. Too late regret it now. So far he’d studied enough to not make any fatal mistakes. Still he had won nothing more than polite tolerance and a few flirtatious glances. He wondered what would get him to first base. To get her to see the man that desired her so much it was hard to breathe the same air as she.

What would it take?

“So you can’t answer me. Huh? Figured you couldn’t.”

“I can answer every question sweetheart. I’d like to do it in a different way.” He set his wine glass to the table with deliberate smoothness. He had to be careful. This was risky. Dinner had been nice. Conversation had been even nicer. Hell, even her dog and he were on good terms. He and she were in a good place. One false move and—poof! If he pushed too hard and too soon she’d run. He was certain of it, the one true thing all his research on Lauren Bishop proved, she had major trust issues. Rightfully so.

With half-lidded eyes masking his burn for her he looked up from the dark magenta swirl of his Merlot in the bottom of his wine glass. Her brows lowered in suspicion. She hadn’t uncrossed her arms, every fiber in her being tensed. He sensed it. It was now or never. “I say we play a game.”

“Game? What kind of game?” She asked pronouncing each word slowly.