“Yeah, but I still have so much to do.” She tossed the empty box aside, pulled another one closer, and stabbed it.

“That fucker got your clock ticking.”

“He…what?”

“Marcel. He set a timer.” He reached for her hands and brought them to his mouth for a kiss. “Sweetheart, nothing’s changed. We’re right where we need to be with our business, the vote’s still happening the Tuesday after next…just because that dickwad flew out here and rattled your cage, it doesn’t change the timetable.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“What has changed is that you’ve come up with a smarter way to win the voters’ loyalty.” He let her go and started pulling bubble-wrapped packages out of the box.

“It’s not the timetable I’m worried about.” Her shoulders relaxed. “I guess I just resent that I can’t stay here longer. Now that…”

“Now that what?”

Distress pinched her features. “Now that I’ve found all this goodness.”

It hurt to look into those pale green eyes so filled with longing, knowing he couldn’t change anything. “But you’re here now, so let’s just live in the moment.” What else could he do? Unless…had she gotten some new information? “You’re not going home yet, are you? I mean, you haven’t scheduled a flight?” Oh, Jesus. Had they run out of time already?

“No. I’m not going home yet.” She reached for a glass jar and waved it at him with a mischievous smile. “Not when I have this.”

She’d finished the perfume last night, and they’d celebrated in bed. Well, on the back of the couch, the shower, and then the bed. Grabbing it from her, he twisted the top off. Immediately, the scent hit his nostrils. Rich, exotic, elegant.

“It’s really good, isn’t it?”

“From now on, I think it’s the only thing you should wear.” No clothes, no shoes, no jewelry. Just this scent.

“Oh, I’ll definitely…” She caught his expression. “You mean that literally.” He didn’t even have to answer. She just smiled and shook her head. “Well, I give you credit for not having me wear my Louboutins in that fantasy. My feet thank you. Oh, I think I’ve got a name for it. Belle Starr.”

“That’s a long way from Nocturne.”

“I know, but it should be, right? Nocturne comes from a meadow in the Alps. Belle Starr comes from an outlaw town. I looked up the history of this place, how this valley, surrounded by huge, impassable mountains, made it the perfect haven for outlaws. When I looked them up, I found some really badass women. Belle Starr was the leader of a gang, a smart businesswoman, and she owned her sexuality.” She cupped the side of her mouth and said, “She slept with a lot of guys.”

“But maybe we won’t advertise that last part?”