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As Rosalind dressed, she contemplated how significantly her world had changed in a few short days. Here she was, dressing after a doctor’s examination she might never have contemplated before. Not only that, she was bringing home condoms and salve so she might engage in sexual activities with a man she barely knew.

If he even elected to return.

Not a material certainty, Fitz’s departure that morning polite but devoid of any promise of future assignations.

On her journey home, that uncertainty looped through her mind, dogging her despite her best efforts to consider more pleasant prospects. But she wanted to see Fitz again-whether it meant ultimate heartache or not. Whether it was sensible or not. Although, clearly she wasn’t when she coveted a man like Fitz; surely their encounters were akin to that poetic line about ships passing in the night.

She would be wise to keep in mind the fleeting nature of his liaisons. It would be insane to contemplate actually caring for a man of his ilk. She grimaced. Particularly after so few days. Good God, I am a fool.

By the time she’d traveled the considerable distance from the doctor’s and was nearing home, she’d beaten down most of her rash inclinations and was commending herself on her good sense. She’d reconciled herself to simply enjoying Fitz’s company if and when he appeared. Just that-enjoy-and nothing more. Carpe diem would be her motto.

If only he hadn’t been waiting for her, such well-founded pragmatism might have prevailed.

But he was.

Lounging in all his jeunesse dorйe glory against her bow window, tall and rangy in a suit of ecru linen, his dark hair shoved behind his ears as if he’d combed it with his fingers, his face so starkly beautiful her breath caught in her throat.

She screamed and began running toward him.

Propriety and prudence be damned.

She didn’t get far; he ran faster, and when they met, he swept her up in his arms and kissed her soundly, needing corporeal evidence that she was real and he was no longer bereft.

She finally whispered, “Mfphffp,” against his mouth because passersby were stopping to stare.

He raised his head politely but minimally and grinned. “Forgive me, I might be a little drunk.”

“I don’t care,” she whispered, lighthearted, content, happier than she’d ever been in her life. “But we should get off the street.”

“I brought you something,” he said with a smile, kissing her again without regard for their audience. “You’ll like it.” He winked. “Guaranteed.”

“You think so? ” she asked playfully, hugging him as if he were her salvation from the shipwreck of life, not altogether concerned with observers when she was beginning to believe in castles in the air.

“I know so. It’s a harem present.” He didn’t even watch her face as he spoke, the gift untainted by malice-for her pleasure alone.

But once they reached her apartment, he sat down on the nearest chair with her on his lap, took her purse and package, set them aside, and simply held her. “It’s been quite a long day,” he gruffly said, leaving a trail of kisses across her forehead and down her cheek. “Way too long…”

It was amazing, she thought, how happiness filled her to overflowing when Fitz was near-spilling out in a smile she couldn’t contain. Even when she should have known better than to care about a man like him. “I missed you,” she whispered, enraptured and smitten. “There. I’m like all the other adoring women in your life. And I don’t care.”

“You’re nothing like the others. Not even close.” If he hadn’t drunk so much, if he hadn’t found Madame Rivera’s intolerable for the first time in his life, if he didn’t feel as though he’d reached safe haven when he’d never so much as thought of the phrase before, he wouldn’t have added with such vehemence, “Thank God you finally came home.”

And you were here. “I’m sorry you had to wait.”

“Where were you?” Another first-wanting to know where a woman had been, when he normally wanted to know when they were leaving.

“I went to see Dr. Swindell.”

“Christ,” he muttered, knowing he was responsible. “I knew I should have been more careful last night.”

“No, no, everything’s fine. I’d made an appointment yesterday, so I kept it, that’s all.”

He leaned back marginally and scanned her face. “You’re sure? ”

“Positive.”

He exhaled in relief. “I’ll be on my best behavior; your present can wait,” he added. “It was probably a selfish gesture anyway.”

She grinned. “You, selfish? ”

“Point taken. On the other hand,” he said, smiling in return, “you’ve been known to make a few selfish demands yourself.” His smile widened. “Give me more comes to mind.”

“Or how about, Give me my present?” Curiosity overcame politesse.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You were at the doctor today because of me. It can wait until you’re in the pink of health again.”

“I am, for heaven’s sake. I’m perfectly fine. I couldn’t be better. Just show me. Please…”

Since he was here in the first place because he couldn’t resist her, he was hardly in the position to deny such an appealing plea. “It’s just a toy,” he said in dismissal.

“I love toys.” Had some other woman spoken in that coquettish voice?

With a reluctant sigh and a grimace, he pulled a narrow shagreen box from his pocket. “This is for later now. I don’t want to argue.”

It’s jewelry, she thought at the sight of the leather box, a necklace perhaps from the shape. But as she was beginning to take issue with what she perceived as his customary gift for the women in his life, he flipped open the lid.

“Wherever did you get that? ” she blurted out, shocked-and intrigued.

“At a jeweler’s. It’s a Renaissance piece, but don’t worry, I was assured that it’s been thoroughly cleaned. Apparently, it’s a Cellini object d’art.”

“Are you serious? ”

He grinned. “I generally try not to be, but in this case I am.”

“May I touch it? ”

“Certainly.”

She ran her fingers lightly over the gold engraved dildo, then lifted it from the silk-lined box and studied the amorous images. As she turned the exquisite piece to view all the scenes, the starkly erotic content triggered an immediate and heated response-which was the point no doubt of the portrayals of mythical figures engaged in amorous play. Although Fitz’s erection pressing into her bottom also contributed to her expeditious arousal. A charming combination in any event. “Maybe we could try this,” she murmured, a distinctly carnal heat warming her senses, melting inside her.

Fitz shook his head. “We should wait.”

“This is smaller than you.”

“It’s metal though-not in the least pliant.”

“I hardly think your erection is what you’d call pliant.”

“It is in contrast to this. I’m not arguing, darling.” He took it from her hand and shoved it in his pocket. “We’ll use it some other time.”

“Or you could just watch.”

He looked at her from under his lashes. “Now you’re trying to torment me.”

“At least he’s interested,” she said softly, shifting in his lap, his rigid length pronounced.

“Don’t be difficult,” he growled, steeling himself against his cravings, “when I’m trying to be unselfish.”

“I won’t blame you,” she replied, rubbing against his swelling erection, only the linen of his trousers and her skirt barricade to consummation. “I take full responsibility.”

He softly groaned.

“Let me just try this little toy. Please?” She’d take her pleasure where she could as per her carpe diem promise to herself. With Fitz tomorrows were uncertain.