“Because you enjoyed yourself just now,” he answered. “You forgot all about that shallow, self-centered human who doesn’t know a good thing when she bites him on his—” He looked at Ivy. “Where did you say she bit him, Ivy love?”

“His wrist.” Ivy straightened and turned her back on me to retrieve her coffee.

“Who doesn’t know a good thing when she bites him on his … wrist,” Kisten finished.

My face was burning. “That’s the last time I tell you anything!” I exclaimed to Ivy. And it wasn’t as if I had drawn blood. Good God!

“Admit it,” Kisten said. “You enjoyed talking with me, pitting your will against mine. It would have been fun,” he said as he looked at me through his bangs. “You look like you could use some fun. Cooped up in this church for God knows how long. When was the last time you got dressed up? Felt pretty? Felt desirable?”

I stood very still, feeling my breath move in and out of me, balanced. My thoughts went to Nick leaving to go out of town without telling me, our cuddling and closeness that had ended with a shocking abruptness. It had been so long. I missed his touch making me feel wanted, stirring my passions and bringing me alive. I wanted that feeling back—even if it was a lie. Just for a night, so I wouldn’t forget how it felt until I found it again.

“No biting,” I said, thinking I was making a mistake.

Ivy jerked her head up, her face expressionless.

Kisten didn’t seem surprised. A heady understanding was in his gaze. “No shirking,” he said softly, his eyes alive and glinting. I was like glass to him.

“Sixty-dollar maximum,” I countered.

Kisten stood, taking his coat from the back of the chair. “I’ll pick you up at one A.M., night after tomorrow. Wear something nice.”

“No playing on my scar,” I said breathlessly, unable to find enough air for some reason. What in hell was I doing?

With a predatory grace, he shrugged into his coat. He hesitated, thinking. “Not one breath on it,” he agreed. His thoughtful expression shifted to sly anticipation as he stood in the archway to the hall and held out his hand to Ivy.

Motions stiff, Ivy pulled the fifty back out of the cookie jar and gave it to him. He stood and waited, and she took another and slapped it into his hand.

“Thanks, Ivy love,” he said. “Now I have enough for my date and a haircut, too.” He met my eyes, holding them until I couldn’t breathe. “See you later, Rachel.”

The sound of his dress shoes seemed loud in the darkening church. I heard him say something to Jenks followed by the faint boom of the front door closing.

Ivy wasn’t pleased. “That was a stupid thing to do,” she said.

“I know.” I wouldn’t look at her, mixing the sugar and butter with a rough quickness.

“Then why did you do it?”