“Yes,” he repeats, his eyes shuttered from me so I can’t read his expression.

“Yes. I’ll be your date in Tucson. I’ll help you out with your charity, and you can help me out with my…financial situation.”

He hands me his phone. “Type in your bank account number and I’ll have half the money wired over by tonight.”

I tap on the screen and hand him back his phone. “But no sex for money.” I don’t want to have to say more, but our crazy chemistry forces the next words out of my mouth. “If we have sex, like you said, that will be on our private time. It’s not part of this deal.”

His lips part as his gaze shifts to my mouth. “Of course. If I kiss you, I can promise you it will be because I want to, not because of any charity or deal we have in place. There will be no confusion between the two.” His eyes darken as he raises them to meet mine. “I do want to kiss you, Jasalie. I have since I first saw you. Just so we’re clear on that.”

I swallow hard. “Thank you for your truthfulness. But let’s be brutally honest, shall we? I can handle the truth, Dylan. I’m not some delicate flower who will wilt at the first taste of rejection.”

Dylan furrows his brow. “I don’t get where you’re going.”

“You have a life outside of Tucson, obviously. And so do I. Just because we both happen to be from Los Angeles doesn’t change the fact that we’re two consenting adults meeting at a hotel in the middle of Arizona.”

Dylan frowns. “Ri-igh-t. I still don’t get where this is going.”

“Exactly,” I say. “And that’s why we make a pact so we don’t ever need to worry about where this is going, how it’s going, or if it’s going anywhere at all. You yourself said the whole arrangement was no strings attached.”

“I did say that.” Dylan puts his hands to his head and pulls at the short strands like he’s fully agitated. “I just…to bring anyone into my world would be the most selfish thing I could do. I like you, but to promise that this will go anywhere…I just can’t do that.”

“So you agree with me then. We may just stay friends, we may decide we hate each other, or we may”—I can feel how flushed my face gets, but I storm forward anyway—“whatever we may do over the next few days, what happens here, stays here. In Tucson. In the hotel. No strings and no promises. Deal?”

Dylan goes quiet at my proposal. He looks out the window and then down at his hands. Eventually though, he looks up. “Are you dating somebody back home?”

I contemplate not answering him, but I don’t really see where that will get me. So I shake my head no.

“So whatever happens between us here, we can agree for these few days that what we have is exclusive?” he confirms. “Neither of us will date anybody else while we’re in the hotel?”

“Sure.” That’s easy for me.

“Then yes, but I have one condition,” Dylan says.

“What?”

“We make a real effort to get to know each other. Even though we know it’s going to end, we don’t hold back this weekend.”

“But…” I never let anyone get close to me.

He’s searching my face, his expression stubborn and determined. “That’s my condition. Take it or leave it.”

My brain screams at me to leave it.

But what comes out of my mouth is, “I’ll take it.”

His jaw visibly relaxes, and he smiles at me. “Let’s start now. We’ll go back to your room and watch a movie for the afternoon. Away from cameras and reporters and the public eye. I don’t think touring Tucson is working out so well for either of us. Do you agree?”

I hesitate. Being alone with Dylan is scary. Eating lunch at a restaurant was one thing, but two hours alone in a hotel room feels like it’s bringing everything to a more intimate level.

I pause and turn away. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable.” I say it almost in a whisper.

“Jasalie.” Dylan touches my knee, and I look back at him. “No ulterior motives or anything. I just want to spend time with you. I promise you can trust me.”

The truth is, I actually do trust him. The person I don’t trust is myself. I’m so insanely attracted to him I have to resist kissing those mesmerizing lips of his right now.

But no matter what happens, we have a finite amount of time together. I’m leaving here in just over three days after all. How much can happen in seventy-two hours?

“I’m not sure,” I say as I turn the key in the ignition.

I pull out of the neighborhood, and we end up behind an SUV at a red light. A little girl is in the back, kneeling up on the seat, facing us. She stares at me and makes a monkey face.

Without thinking about it, I stick my tongue out at her and wave.

Dylan laughs. “You surprise me every second.”

I smile. “Every second? That’s a lot.”

“I’m serious. You’re spontaneous. You’re funny, at least when you feel safe. You’re beautiful, but you don’t know it. You’re tough, but you have the softest heart underneath it all.”

I snap my head in his direction. “How the hell can you be sure of all of that? We barely know each other.”

“I feel like I get you is all.” Dylan reaches over and puts his hand lightly on my thigh, just above my knee. Then he squeezes.

I grit my teeth as parts of me completely ignite. The throbbing between my legs is so intense I nearly cry out.

I push his hand away. He hesitates and then slowly puts it back. I let it stay this time.

As we drive, out of the corner of my eye, I notice him lean back and relax against his seat. His hand feels so damn good on my thigh. And I find myself saying, “I pick the movie.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Works for me.”

A single cameraman greets us when we step out of the car in the hotel parking lot. But hotel security is there to escort him away, and Dylan ushers me inside the hotel quickly. I’m nervous Lilla will see us in the lobby, or the elevator, or the walk down the hall to my room. But she doesn’t. In fact, the lobby’s nearly empty when we arrive.

As soon as we get inside my room, I drag the small armchair over to the bed and take a seat on it.

“You can have the bed,” I say.

Dylan smiles. But he doesn’t say anything. He sits down on the end of the bed, close to the television, and I use the remote to access the movie options.

“Hmmm. Drama or comedy?” I ask him. “Or something else, like the kids’ section?”

“Let’s go for comedy,” he suggests. “I don’t like sad movies.”

Neither do I. In fact, I hate all dramatic movies for the most part. Too depressing.

“What’s under that towel?” he asks as he points at my hidden ball of clay.

“Oh.” I’m self-conscious for some reason. It’s like Dylan’s already learning too much about me way too quickly. “Just some clay. I sculpt now and again.”

“Really?” His eyes brighten. “That’s cool. What’s that one?”

“It was something, but I smashed it,” I say. “So right now, it’s nothing.”

I flip to the comedic choices.

“Beverly Hills Cop,” we say at the same time.

I start laughing. “Are you serious?”

“I love that movie.”

“Me too.”

Our eyes catch and hold. Then my gaze shifts to his lips, and I suddenly want to do dirty things to that mouth of his.

He breaks the moment. “Let me pay for the movie?”

“I’ve got this one.”

“So does that mean there’ll be another?” he asks me.

I turn away from him and busy myself with the remote. “Of course. We agreed to be seen in public for the next few days right? So I assume that means we’ll have to actually get together.” I let out a nervous laugh.

“I meant away from the public.” His voice is smooth and low, but I hear his breath catch, and I snap my gaze up to meet his. “Are you okay to hang out in private again?”

I clear my throat. Yes. I’m already hardly able to remember what my life was like before Dylan was in it. It’s like going from black and white to color, which just proves what I knew from the beginning.

Dylan Wild is dangerous.

I nod slowly. “We can try hanging out and keep getting to know each other like we agreed on. But I should warn you now—I don’t open up easily. Very few people know the real me.”

He reaches out and strokes my hair. Just for a second, but I get goosebumps all down my arms and legs. As well as other places.

I turn to face him, but he just scoots back against the pillows.

“Shall we?” he asks.

I’m caught up in the reverie of his touch, and I start at the question.

“Shall we what?” I ask suspiciously.

He laughs. “Got you, huh? Without even meaning to. I meant the movie, Jasalie. Shall we watch the movie?”

I grit my teeth so hard they hurt. “Coming right up.”

When the credits begin to roll, I turn the TV off and stand up.

“I guess you’d better get going. I’ve got to get ready for tonight’s event.”

Dylan glances at his watch. “Wow. Time flies.” He stands up, too.

“Thanks for the ‘date.’” I put the word in air quotes. “I can honestly say I’ve never had one like it before.”

I head for the door to let him out. But as my hand touches the doorknob, I can feel him at my back.

His scent surrounds me as his arms cage me in from behind. He leans in so close to me I have to close my eyes and curse inwardly to stop from turning around and pulling him up against me.

He lifts my hair off my shoulder just enough so he can sneak his head into the crook of my neck. I can’t help the shiver that surges through my body at the feel of his nose and lips on my sensitive skin. He doesn’t kiss me, though. His lips barely graze the spot on my racing pulse point, and then he runs his nose down my neck. I can hear his jagged inhale before he buries his face in my shoulder.

“You smell so good,” he murmurs.

I can’t believe he noticed.

I’ve been told I look good, taste good, and feel good by other men, but no one’s ever said I smell good. No one’s ever noticed my mother before.

I jerk back, forcing him to retreat.

“Jasalie.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Hey.”

But I don’t turn to face him. I can’t, or else I’m sure I’ll fall even harder.

Instead, I open the door to its widest arc and step back, making my desire clear. “I’ll see you tonight.”

As soon as he walks through the door, I shut and lock it behind him without giving him a chance to make eye contact or speak to me again.