“Are you going to take off your coat?”

Maybe it was the result of all those weeks of wearing pearls and headbands, but she didn’t want to stand before him in the vulgar dress she’d used to disarm Jason Keane, not while they were enclosed by the cozy comfort of this wonderful old house. “I’m still a little cold.”

If he knew she was lying, he gave no sign. “I’m going to have a beer. Do you want something to warm you up? Coffee? Tea?”

“No, thank you.” As he moved into the open kitchen at the back, she slipped off her coat and replaced it with the zippered sweatshirt he’d left on the arm of the couch. It held the fresh scent of laundry detergent along with a fragrance that wasn’t quite spice and wasn’t quite citrus, but was indisputably Dan Calebow. She sat down at one end of the couch just as he came back into the room with a bottle of Old Style in his hand.

He settled at the other end, leaned back against the overstuffed arm, and propped one ankle over his knee. “You and Ron are getting good at pulling scams. Tonight was even better than the one you pulled on me. By the way, I’m a big enough man to admit you were right about him and I was wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll even admit you might have been partially right about the team being too tense earlier in the season.”

“Only partially right?”

“Mostly right,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not looking forward to living the remainder of my life without hearing any more speeches about naked football players.” He shuddered. “Do you and Ron think you could let me in on your next scam ahead of time? I hope you realize I almost committed assault and battery tonight, although I’m not entirely sure whether I would have gone after Keane or you.”

“Probably Keane. For all your yelling, I can’t imagine you hitting a woman.”

“You’re forgetting about Valerie.”

“You should introduce her to Jason. They’re perfect for each other.”

“How do you know that?”

“Instinct. That man would enjoy every kinky little game she could conjure up.”

“I don’t know. Some of them—”

“Never mind. I have a weak stomach.” Even though Dan had told her he was no longer seeing Valerie, the thought of them together dug into her like sharp little spurs, and her voice was more waspish than she intended. “I’m sure other women must seem tame to you after being married to the kinky congresswoman.”

He sighed. “You’re determined to pick a fight with me, aren’t you?”

“I’m not doing any such thing.”

“Yes, you are, and I’m not in a fighting mood.” He uncrossed his legs and set his beer bottle down on the hooked rug. “What I’m in a mood to do is fetch a pair of pliers and see if I can get you out of that dress.”

She caught her breath and heat spread through her body, followed by uncertainty. “Dan, don’t joke about this.”