He was tugging his shirt on when she returned to the kitchen. His eyes brightened as he looked her up and down. “Tell me you’re not wearing panties.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She gave him a sensual look she didn’t know she possessed. “You’re going to be thinking about that all day while I’m at work.”

“That’s mean.”

“I know.” She smiled.

He followed her to the hall. “How about Kirra and I walk you to work?”

“That would be nice.” She slid her purse strap over her shoulder.

“We can talk about the merits of fresh air on hot skin.” Bending down, he snapped the leash onto the dog’s collar.

“Are you working tonight?”

“I’m supposed to.” He leaned close to her ear. “We can sext.”

She laughed. “You may as well stay here, since your apartment is trashed. I’ll let the hotel staff know. You might want to leave your cell number in case there’s a problem with Kirra and they can’t get in touch with me.” She dropped her spare key into his open palm.

“OK. Thanks. Gerome seems protective.”

“He’s been very helpful with the dog.” Louisa gathered her keys and purse from the hall table. Turning toward the door, she stopped.

Conor was staring at the key in his hand, an unusual furrow above the bridge of his nose.

“What’s wrong?”

His mouth opened and closed. He wrapped his fingers tightly around the key. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

“Don’t.” Her muscles, loose from sex and laughter, contracted, bracing for bad news.

“Don’t what?” He smoothed the tension from between his brows, but his eyes held on to their reservations.

“Don’t pretend.” She pulled her purse to her body and clutched it against her chest, but it wasn’t enough to shield herself from the doubt in Conor’s eyes. “No holding back, remember? You made me promise to talk to you when something is upsetting me. Don’t you think I deserve the same consideration?”

Conor gripped the key, its small, insignificant weight heavy with implication. She’d given him the key to her apartment. He opened his fingers and stared at it. How could something so small come with such huge responsibility? Her decision was likely more practical than emotional, but the symbolism glared at him. He’d never gotten this far with Barbara. In one week, he and Louisa had already surpassed anything he’d experienced over an entire summer with Barbara. He’d started out determined to take this relationship slowly. What the hell happened?

His feelings for Louisa felt like hitting standing water on the expressway. The tires of his Porsche had lost traction. He was going too fast, just on the border of losing control, and he was pretty sure he couldn’t stop even if he was driving straight into the river.