Lights flashed on in the kitchen. A massive kitchen. Gleaming white granite countertops. Four sinks. Two ovens. Two refrigerators. Why on earth would one person ever need so much?

“Century is my security system.”

Yes, she’d figured that out.

“What’s your pleasure, Piper?”

Her gaze swung to him. “I, um, was just looking for a late-night snack.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and tugged on the lobe.

His lips pressed together. “Got just the thing.” He opened the fridge—no, the freezer—and pulled out a gallon of ice cream. “Still like chocolate chip cookie dough?”

God, yes. She reached for the ice cream.

Eric laughed. “Have a seat at the bar. I’ll get you a spoon.”

She hopped up on the barstool, his shirt inching up her thighs. He opened a drawer, rifled around, and then paced toward her with not one, but two spoons.

“You in the mood to share?”

Not really. “Since when do you like anything but chocolate?”

A shrug. “A guy has to be open to new experiences.”

Okay. His house, his ice cream, so she had to share.

He slid onto the bar stool next to her, put the ice cream between them, and offered her a spoon. Suddenly feeling nervous, she hesitated.

“I’m not going to bite, Piper.”

Of course, not.

She reached for the spoon.

“Unless you’d like me to.”

Her gaze shot to his. There was absolutely no mistaking the desire in his eyes. Hot, dark. Consuming.

She snatched the spoon from him. Then she thrust it into the ice cream, scooped up a ton, and shoved it into her mouth.

Maybe that would cool her down.

Because the way he was looking at her…

“My timing is shit, isn’t it?” He scooped up a helping of ice cream. Slid it into his mouth. Savored it a moment. “I’m supposed to be making you feel safe and reassured because I know you’re going through a nightmare. And I just hit on you.”

She swallowed. “You didn’t mean it.” He never meant it. Wasn’t that his deal? Piper took another spoonful of ice cream and actually managed to taste the deliciousness this time. He hadn’t meant it when he’d kissed her so long ago. The very next day, he’d been with someone else. He hadn’t meant it any of the times that he’d flirted with her over the years. The random times. “It’s just a game you play with me.”

She felt him stiffen.

Piper took another spoonful of ice cream. The company might be stressing her, but the ice cream was heavenly.

“You are not a game.”

She licked away a little bit of ice cream that had gotten left behind on the spoon. And then her gaze darted to him.

“Is that what you think, Piper? That I’ve been playing some game with you all these years?”