“I didn’t before,” I said, my thoughts returning to the elevator. God help me, I had almost done him right there against the wall.

“This is different,” he said. “It’s a date, and I would give my eyeteeth to know why women expect men to behave differently on a date than any other time.”

“Because you do,” I said.

He gave a raised-eyebrow look to Ivy. Straightening, he reached across the counter to cup my jaw. I jerked back, brow furrowed.

“Nope,” he said as he drew away. “I won’t ruin my reputation by taking you out on a sixty-dollar date for nothing. If I can’t touch you, it’s a no-go.”

I stared at him, feeling my heart pound. “Good.”

Shocked, Kisten blinked. “Good?” he questioned as Ivy smirked.

“Yeah,” I said, pulling the butter to me and scooping out about a half cup with a wooden spoon. “I didn’t want to go out with you anyway. You’re too full of yourself. Think you can manipulate anyone into doing anything. Your egotistical attitude makes me sick.”

Ivy laughed as she unfolded herself and jumped lightly to the floor without a sound. “I told you,” she said. “Pay up.”

Shoulders shifting in a sigh, he twisted to reach his wallet in a back pocket, pulling out a fifty and shoving it into her hand. She raised a thin eyebrow and made another tally mark in the air. An unusual smile was on her as she stretched to drop it into the cookie jar atop the fridge.

“Typical,” Kisten said, his eyes dramatically sad. “Try to do something nice for a person, cheer her up, and what do I get? Abused and robbed.”

Ivy took three long steps to come up behind him. Curling an arm across his chest, she leaned close and whispered in his torn ear, “Poor baby.” They looked good together, her silky sultriness and his confident masculinity.

He didn’t react at all as her fingers slipped between the buttons of his shirt. “You would have enjoyed yourself,” he said to me.

Feeling as if I’d passed some test, I pushed the butter off the spoon and licked my finger clean. “How would you know?”

“Because you enjoyed yourself just now,” he answered. “You forgot all about that shallow, self-centered human who doesn’t know a good thing when she bites him on his—” He looked at Ivy. “Where did you say she bit him, Ivy love?”

“His wrist.” Ivy straightened and turned her back on me to retrieve her coffee.

“Who doesn’t know a good thing when she bites him on his…wrist,” Kisten finished.

My face was burning. “That’s the last time I tell you anything!” I exclaimed to Ivy. And it wasn’t as if I had drawn blood. Good God!

“Admit it,” Kisten said. “You enjoyed talking with me, pitting your will against mine. It would have been fun,” he said as he looked at me through his bangs. “You look like you could use some fun. Cooped up in this church for God knows how long. When was the last time you got dressed up? Felt pretty? Felt desirable?”