I don’t say a word, but he must have picked up on my acquiescence, because he looks between Lyle and me and then says, “So fill me in, and we can talk about the best approach.”

I meet Lyle’s eyes, and when my cheeks start to heat with a rising blush, I nod, silently urging him to tell the story.

“Matthew Holt’s pushing me hard to sign on to a new project. A thriller with an erotic edge.”

“Nice,” Riley says, his eyes cutting to me. I’m sure the look is simply a question mark—What does this have to do with Natasha? But to me it feels personal, as if he’s sizing up my own erotic potential.

I know that’s ridiculous—more than that, I know that my reaction is fueled by the simple fact that I know where this story is heading—but I can’t deny the sudden sense of awareness that floods my body, pooling most intensely at my breasts and between my thighs.

I force my attention back to Lyle and keep it locked there.

“The thing is, I really want to do the project—Holt’s company, Hardline Entertainment, is doing some terrific work—but the script’s not finished, so I’m hesitant to commit. But the screenwriter is willing to shoot me pages as she works for feedback, which is great. But if I’m going to be able to comment intelligently, I need to have a better sense of the world.”

“The world?”

“Most of the story takes place in a BDSM club.”

“Wait a sec. Any chance this movie is based on a book?”

Lyle’s eyes widen; he’s clearly as surprised as I am.

“Yeah,” Lyle says. “Her Secret Service.”

Riley laces his fingers behind his head and leans back. “That’s fucking awesome. Are you playing Zan?”

“What the hell? How did you know that?”

“Serena Dean-Miles,” Riley says. “She’s the author, right? It’s not common knowledge, but she bases most of her books on real McKay-Taggart missions. Too bad you’re not starring in a book featuring me. I’m way cooler than Zan. Of course, she hasn’t written that book yet.” He buffs his nails on his chest. “I guess she’s saving the best for last.”

“Talk about a coincidence,” Lyle says, glancing at me. I force a smile past the unpleasant taste of jealousy that has coated my mouth. I try to swallow it down. After all, I don’t even know if Serena Dean-Miles is single, much less if she’s involved with Riley. But he does know her... And she does write incredibly sexy books...

Stop it.

I have no reason to be jealous. Primarily because there is nothing—nothing—between Riley and me.

“At any rate, I wanted to visit a club,” Lyle says, shifting the conversation back on track and saving me from my runaway thoughts.