“What happened around ten years ago?”

Van’s expression became stoic, statuesque. “In my businesses? I’d need to check the timetable.”

“No, with you.”

He feigned a smile. “Come, Julia, can you tell me what happened to you ten years ago?”

I thought for a moment. “I can tell you exactly what happened. I was a cheerleader in the eighth grade and Bobby Gerard refused to go to the dance with me because Skylar told everyone I was taken. The same thing happened every year.”

“The redundancy makes it easier to remember.”

Van shrugged off his suit coat and hung it over the back of one of the breakfast-bar high stools. I watched as he loosened his dark blue tie, removed his cuff links, placing them in his pocket, and rolled up the sleeves of his blue and gray striped shirt.

There was something about a man with his sleeves rolled up that made my stomach do a flip-flop. It was probably why so many models wore their shirts that way. As Van finished the sleeves, I licked my dry lips. A smile bloomed on my face as our eyes met. “I talked to my father today.”

Van went to the counter and retrieved the bottle of wine we hadn’t finished last night. As he brought two glasses down from the holder over the lighted counter, he sighed. “Wade is having problems. I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

“You weren’t sure how to tell me that my family’s entire destiny will be sold or dissolved if something doesn’t happen?”

He turned, handing me one of the glasses now containing the red wine. “It’s better you heard it from your father.”

I swirled the red liquid around the globe of the glass. “Why is that better?”

“Because you know what can turn this all around. If I were the one who told you about the plummet of Wade Pharmaceutical’s value, you’d think I planned it to get you to change your answer.”

My answer to marry Van.

I hadn’t thought of that. “Did you?”

“No, Julia. My plan was to stop Marlin Butler from selling Wade out from under you and your father. I didn’t plan on the devaluation. In hindsight, that was wrong of me. I should have seen it coming.” His green orbs came to mine. “I suppose for once I was less focused on the business futures and more on a beautiful distraction.”

“Is that what I am, Mr. Sherman, a distraction?”

He nodded. “Yes. I was distracted all damn day, thinking about the way you come, the way your body trembles just before your legs stiffen. Thinking about the sweet taste of you and the mark I left on your breast.”

I reached out and swatted his arm. “You did that on purpose?”

“I did.”

“You’re too old for things like that.”