Her skin was white as a statue, yet everything about her pulsed with life. She was maddening. Persistent, even when persistence made no sense. A defender of lost causes. Principled.

She made his demolished heart want to dream.

“I expressed my interest in you,” she said, “the day we found the clue with the Dewey decimal number. You turned me down. I assumed that was because you weren’t interested in anyone. But then I saw you with Dakota, and I thought, ‘What if it’s just me . . . that he’s not interested in?’”

“Dakota and I didn’t come together.”

“Oh?”

“And I’m not interested in her.”

“Oh.” She pushed her inky hair behind her shoulders. “Now you go. What’s your problem with me? And before you say that you don’t have one, I can tell by your expression that you’re upset.” She’d turned his own words back on him.

“I can’t stand Derek. I knew him in high school, and he’s a womanizer. Not the kind that has one-night stands with random people. The kind that would make a girl fall in love with him, sleep with her for a while, then break up with her for another girl.”

“Ah.” She lifted her chin to a challenging angle. “And you were a choir boy in high school?”

“I never said I was.”

“Have you changed since graduating high school?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“For one, I never plan to break another law for as long as I live.”

“Admirable. So you’ll understand why it’s possible that Derek might have changed, as well.”

“He’s not a pug that you can rehabilitate—”

“If only I could rehabilitate men as easily as I can rehabilitate dogs.” The look she gave him spoke volumes.

“I don’t want rehabilitating,” he growled.

“Which is the crux of your issue.”

His eyebrows drew down.

“I’m enjoying my time with Derek tonight,” she continued, “and I plan to spend more time with him. You declined to date me, so I fail to see how you have the right to criticize the men who do want to date me.”

They glared at each other.

Luke moved forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and kissed her. One of his hands went to the back of her head, the other drew her against him. Her palms settled on his shirt, uncertain. But then she was kissing him back.

He wanted her with him forever. So long as there was a universe, that’s how long. He’d go anywhere she went. Do anything she asked.

The kiss drew out, demanding, dangerous, impatient—

Without warning, she stepped back. She wasn’t smiling.

His breath and hers jerked in and out, their exhales visible puffs in the night air.

“You are the most confusing man I have ever met,” she said hoarsely. “What did that just mean?”