“Marcel wanted excitement. He got off on sneaking around.” And there was that sadness again, dragging on her pretty features. “Whenever I’m alone, I keep playing their conversation in my head.”

“What conversation?” He set the glass down. “You caught them in bed?”

“I caught them in a closet. My assistant was begging him to break it off with me so they could be together, and he said he was still going to marry me, that he loved me…But it wasn’t their words that got to me. It was the drama. My assistant, who’s the most calm and rational woman you’ll ever meet, was tortured and emotional and…”

“Passionate.”

“Yes.” The word shot out of her mouth like a dart. “Exactly. And even Marcel, who’s only ever been polite with me, sounded like he was all torn up.”

Those fuckers had done a number on her. “So, tonight you were looking for payback? With the cowboy?”

She shook her head. “It’s not about that. I wanted to know if I’m capable of igniting.” She faced the counter, moving around a few baggies and shifting some beakers. “What if I’m just flat? Unemotional?” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “What if I’m not a passionate person?”

“Fuck that. I’ve never met anyone so passionate.” He picked up one of the beakers. “You light up when you talk about this stuff.”

“Yeah, but that’s work. It’s not…sex. It’s not bodies and hearts and minds. I love my work, but I want to be wild in bed. I want…” She shrugged, tightening the cap on a small bottle. “Never mind. It’s stupid. Do you want to see what I was working on?”

She reached for a dark blue glass jar, when he caught her arm. “What do you want, Rosie?”

The way she looked at him made him feel like she was searching to see if she could trust him with her deepest secrets. You can, his eyes told her. I want to be that man for you.

He saw the moment she relaxed. “It’s not so much that I want to be wild in bed. I want to feel wild. I want sex to yank me under.” She let out a rough exhalation. “That desperation, that yearning I heard in my friend’s voice? I want to feel that. But I realized, after about five minutes with Dusty, that it’s not something that just happens. I can’t close my eyes and feel some guy’s hands on me and suddenly ignite because I want to. Honestly, I don’t know how people do it—have fun, crazy hookups—because I didn’t feel anything except annoyance. And he didn’t do anything wrong. He’s good-looking. He’s got a nice body. But there just weren’t any…”

“Sparks.” He got it. “He’s not right for you.”