“Oh.”

I sank down to sit on the couch as I tried to organize my thoughts. At the moment, I didn’t exist as a rational being. I was only emotion, and that emotion was joy.

Joy, yes. But confusion, too. “But at Destiny—you put me off. I mean, not only did you put me off, but you put on that whole show with that redhead.”

I heard the jealousy in my voice, and from the way the corner of his lip twitched, I knew he heard it, too. “I don’t get involved with the girls at the club,” he said, as my body sagged with relief.

“Never?”

“I believe I’ve mentioned that I have a code. And not sleeping with my employees is high up on my list.”

“Does that little redhead realize that?” I asked cattily, then immediately wished I could pull back my words when Evan chuckled.

“Careful,” he said. “Green isn’t your best color.”

“Dammit, Evan, I—”

“Hush.” He moved to sit beside me, then gently stroked my cheek before tucking my hair behind my ear. “Christy was putting on a show. For your benefit, actually, though she’s done it before. Sometimes I find it beneficial for colleagues to have a certain impression of me.”

“And she knows it’s all a show?”

“She does,” he said, then gently kissed the tip of my nose. “And so does Maria.”

“Who’s Maria?”

“Her lover.”

“Oh.” I grinned. “Oh,” I repeated as what he said sank in. But then I thought about it more, and had to press. “I still don’t understand why you did that. The whole show to turn me off. All the fighting to push me away. You’d read the letter by then. You had your Get Out of Jail Free card.”

“I know,” he said. He took my hand and idly traced my fingers with his. “I’m still a bad bet, Angie, and for all the same reasons.”

“You haven’t told me those reasons.”

“No. I haven’t. And I don’t intend to.”

I eyed him, certain that I knew. This was all tied up with Kevin’s allegations. He was involved in some sort of criminal shit, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was curious—and intrigued. There was sweet temptation in the danger, and I licked my lips, wondering if I should press the point. If I should ask him what he was mixed up in. If I should press for details about his crimes, both now and five years ago. But I kept my mouth shut. That kind of talk might push him away—and I was selfish enough not to want to go there. I wanted the reality of the man in my bed, and the fantasy of his wild and dangerous side was just an added perk.

“If you’re such a bad bet,” I said instead, “then why did you give in at all?”

He brushed his lips over mine. “You said it yourself. No commitment, no future. Just you and me and this one weekend. Dammit, Angie, do you have any idea how long I’ve fought the urge to touch you? For that matter, do you have any idea how close I came to breaking my word after that damned alley? I meant what I said—you’re my goddamned Kryptonite, and you have totally destroyed all my defenses.”

His words crashed over me, tempting me even as he tethered me. Didn’t I already know this was a man I could let go with—a man who unleashed a wildness in me that didn’t involve fast cars or petty theft. With Evan, I felt free to be Lina again, even though Angie was the woman I needed to be. The woman I was going to have to be starting in three short weeks. Once I stepped into the world of politics, I needed to be squeaky clean because anything else could cost my father his career, not to mention his reputation.

This was my last chance. To let go. To fly. To have this man that I craved.

Just you and me and this one weekend.

It sounded so perfect. So tempting.

And too damn short.

I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. Because the truth was, I wanted more than this one night with Evan. I wanted a connection. I wanted the time we had left to be real and solid and shining.

I needed him, and I trusted him, but I was afraid that my earlier frenzied accusation about him trying to snatch the Creature Notebook had left a shadow looming between us. And the only way I could think of to banish that dark, was to explain exactly why Jahn had given the notebook to me in the first place.

“Earlier this year,” I began. “When they rushed Jahn into surgery, he didn’t wake up when they expected him to—nothing seemed to go right. It was horrible.”

“I remember.”

“I was a wreck.”

“I remember that, too,” he said, and I nodded agreement. Evan and Tyler and Cole had spent at least as much time at the hospital as I had, and I’d been grateful whenever our visits had overlapped because I’d soaked up their strength and claimed it for my own.

“I can’t recall any of the details of those days. They’re a blur. But the moment that they said he crossed the line—that he was okay—I had to get out of there. I had to just go, you know? Because all of that fear and worry that I’d been holding inside while I paced the hospital and waited was poisoning me. I had to get it out. And I—well, I kind of stole a diamond bracelet.”

His scarred brow lifted. “All right,” he said. “You have my attention.”

“I got away with it, or so I thought. But it turns out there were security cameras. It took them over a month, but they caught me.”

I shuddered, remembering how mortified I’d been when the cops had confronted me in the condo lobby on April Fool’s Day. Jahn had been home from the hospital about a week, but he hadn’t yet been cleared to go back to the office. I’d been on my way back from an ice cream run, and they’d taken me away. “I spent the night in jail, and the next day I told Jahn everything—including why I did it.”

“Why did you?”

“To feel that rush,” I said, looking right at his eyes. “Sometimes, when I needed to let go, when everything just got to be too much for me—well, sometimes that’s what I would do.”

“I get it,” Evan said, and I knew that he needed no further explanation. “So you were in jail,” he continued. “What did Jahn do?”

“He moved heaven and earth for me without ever leaving his condo. I think you could probably interview the arresting officers now, and even they’d swear they have no knowledge of me. This is a big year for my dad, what with the talk of him being on the short list to run as VP. That kind of scandal would not have been good.”

“And then he changed his will,” Evan said, seeing exactly where I was going with this.

“He did,” I said. “He left me the notebook. Me, not you. And I think it was his way of telling me that no matter how badly I fucked up, that he still believed in me. That he still trusted and respected me.” I shrugged. “I loved that notebook, and he knew it. I guess the bottom line is that I think the bequest was his way of saying that he loved me.”

Evan nodded slowly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

I hesitated, taking a moment to draw courage. “Because I wanted you to understand why I’m not going to give it to you. And because—”

“Why?”

“Because