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      "What?" I whispered, loud enough for Leo to hear, not loud enough for Andrew to catch. I hoped. "What did he say?"

      Leo held his palm up in an 'allow me to concentrate' gesture, patting the air gently as if telling me to calm down, not worry. "I really don't think Piper would want you to do that. It's her house after all. Look, I'm not stopping her from coming to the phone; the fact she hasn't taken it off me tells you a lot, doesn't it? Okay, I'm six foot one but I'm not the sort of guy who would stop Piper taking what she wanted from me." He winked and his infectious enthusiasm made me want to laugh out loud; instead I had to settle for a subdued, more discreet giggle.

      "Hey, now, did you miss what I just said? I'm six foot one. And even though your ex tore a few of my muscles last night I like to think I'm not too shabby when it comes to standing up for myself and defending, uh, a lady's honor." The desperation not to snigger was obvious as he pressed his lips together, avoided my gaze and shook his head. "Oh, didn't I mention? You can probably tell. I'm Irish. I can handle myself. No, look. You really don't want to do that— Are you crazy? I mean really? Are you on crack? Look, I'm Irish so I'm drunk a lot but I'd never try... yeah, well, you're welcome to, mate. I'll let her know. Yeah. Yeah, 'bye now. Have a nice day, ye fuckin' gobshite."

      "Wow." I stared at Leo as he ended the call and set the phone down on the worktop beside me.

      "I hope I haven't used up all your credit or minutes on that call."

      "No, no. I have plenty of minutes left this month. Anyway," I added with a shrug, "it was worth it to hear all that. You really looked like you were enjoying yourself."

      "Yeah, I love making fun of dumb animals. It was almost too easy. Like shooting fish in a barrel. But did you really go out with him? What a fucking douche."

      "Yes I did."

      "Were you on crack? He's... he's just... he's got no manners."

      "That's not all..."

      "What do you mean?"

      "Oh, nothing..."

      "Piper." On his lips my name was a low growl, a warning not to mess with him.

      "Just..."

      "Pipes."

      "I don't want this to sound like I'm trying to get him in

trouble with a guy who's already defended my honor... well, what little I have left, and..."

      "What is it? Something about Andrew?"

      "Yeah." I frowned, clueless as to why I was opening up like this. "We have split up; you do believe me?"

      "Sure, sure. Go on."

      "Well, the night I finished with him, he did this." I clenched my fist at my side and released it. Unsure whether or not Leo had caught it, I did it again and his eyes flashed.

      "He hit you?"

      "No, no. He just did that." I nodded down at my hand. "As if he was thinking about it. So... That's why we broke up. He'd thrown things before but never raised his hands to me, and I didn't want... oh God, I don't know why I'm telling you this, but... there you go. His bad manners wasn't the half of it."

      "Hmm. He really is a twat."

      "Leo." His name made my tongue prickle, even now. Crossing my arms over my chest, I did my best to stare him out, but as he'd pointed out to Andrew, he was six foot one— in his bare feet— and much bigger than me.

      "What?"

      " Tell me what Andrew said to get you so riled."

      "Jesus, Piper..." He turned away, stroking his chin. "Look, what I will say is this." He faced me again, held one arm to his waist and held the other hand palm up in a gesture of please believe me supplication. "That man... what's his surname?"

      "Kincaid."

      "Kincaid. Right. Well that man, Andrew Kincaid, is no gentleman. You're well rid of him."

      "Could've told you that." I pressed my lips together while I gave the matter some thought. I clearly wasn't going to get an answer out of Leo and maybe, maybe I didn't really want to know. Knowing Andrew as I did, I could guess it was something deeply ungentlemanly and resigned myself to not finding out for sure. I didn't know whether to be touched, smothered or irritated. In reality was probably a little of all three.

      He inclined his head. "Yeah. You're definitely too much for a cock like Andrew."

"Try telling him that."

"I did. Unfortunately, he wouldn't listen."

"And you wouldn't tell me what he said?"

      "Not all of it, no. I want to save your pretty little virgin ears." He didn't move except for an almost imperceptible parting of the lips and a whispering inhalation.

      "What?"

      No reply.

      "What?"

      Still nothing.

      "Leo!"

      "He is rather keen to speak to you, y'know."

      "So I gathered. The line where you told him my mouth was full of your nuts was a give away."

      "Yeah, I liked that one. I've always got time for a blow job, me. Well, apart from now."

      "You have to go?" I could've kicked myself, prayed I hadn't sounded too clingy. "Oh well."

      "I meant we don't have time for a blow job, as attractive as the thought is right now. We wouldn't want Andrew walking in on us. Although... he might get the message then. He, uh... was pretty keen to see you, too, if you wouldn't talk to him on the phone."

      "Leo... what have you done?"

      "Me? Nothing!" He held up both palms. "You were there. You heard every word I said!"

      "Yes, but I didn't hear every word he said, did I?"

      "No. No, you didn't. That's true." He again inclined his head and tugged at his earlobe. "Has he, uh, got keys to this place?"

      "Hell no! How much of an idiot do you think I—now wait a minute. What else did he say?"

      "Oh nothing, nothing. And don't say Leo in that way again. He said he was gonna come over."

      "What! When?"

      He shrugged. "Dunno. He just said I'm coming over. I assumed he meant now. Does he live far away? Has he got a car?"

      "A couple of miles across town. And no."

      "Well that buys you some time. Unless he gets a taxi."

      "Fuck."

      "Love to, darlin', but it looks like me taking the piss out of your ex has got him all fired up. Sorry, like. I was just..."

      "Oh, don't worry about it." I waved my hand dismissively and groaned. "I'll just ignore the door. You'd better head off if you want to avoid him." This wasn't the way I wanted us to part company. "You'll have to take a rain check on that blow job."

      "Hmm." He ran a finger over his mouth, pouting as he dragged his bottom lip.

      "Hmm? What's 'hmm'?"

      "Only... I have an idea. It involves you in a state I'm not too keen on personally... I mean, you'd have to put some clothes on, but...Your needle-dick ex is on his way over here, possibly as we speak, right?"

      "How do you know he's got a needle-dick?"

      "He talks like a man with a tiny cock. He's on his way over, yeah? And you don't want to see him. So. You pull some clothes on, dry your hair or brush it or whatever it is you women do after a shower, and..."

      "And...?" I prompted archly.

      "We scoot over to my place for a rematch."

      "Ah." I gulped. A feeling of potentiality washed over me. As if I was being offered a choice which ran deeper than Leo's mere words. You, Piper Holt, my inner voice said, are at a crossroads.

      "Well?" he prompted.

      I reached up to pull the towel off my hair and my damp hair tumbled around my shoulders. Brushing it out of my eyes, I stared at him once I had a clear line of sight again. "Guess I should go get ready."

      Leo stepped across the threshold of his loft apartment and looked back. "Well? Aren't you coming in?"

      "I don't know," I murmured. Our worlds now blended. He'd been in my home, I was about to enter his. This was how people got entangled.

      Attached.

      I shuddered.

      "Somebody just walk over your grave?" he teased, and indicated with a twitch of his head the apartment behind him. "Go on, get in. Or would you like me to carry your bag for you?"

      "Yeah, after I got it from the taxi into the lift and up here, now you offer to carry it."

      "I know how precious women are about their belongings. Or maybe it's you who wants carrying over?" he slipped an arm around my waist but I dodged out of his way.

      "What do you think this is, a honeymoon?"

      "If it was, it's a bit late for all that romantic shite. The consummation's already happened." He swatted me on the backside as I walked past. "Next time I get married, remind me to stay away from the Guinness and look for someone compatible," he muttered.

      "Hey! I didn't think we were that bad!" Looking around his loft apartment, I had the feeling if I raised my voice any more it would've echoed under the near cathedral height ceiling.

      Whitewash covered three walls which made the room even more cavernous. The fourth wall had been painted in a pale blue shade while its chimney breast was the same color, but painted in a thicker stain, not watered down.

      A freestanding birdcage stood between two Southfacing windows overlooking the river. Light flooded in, showing up the cleanliness of each surface. No dust motes on the highly polished coffee table in front of the fire built into the chimney breast, no coffee mug rings either.

      Letting my gaze flicker over to the marble worktops in a far corner of the room, I wondered if his kitchen had been taken care of with as much time and effort as his living quarters.

      He probably has a cleaner. If he can afford a place like this, there's little doubt he'd forego the pleasures of household chores and splash out on a 'woman who does'.

      "We," Leo said, whispering into my shoulder, "were perfect."

      I tried not to inhale his scent and let my eyes close while I breathed him in. Barely succeeded. I didn't have much self-control where Leo Carson was concerned.

      "Then... what...?" I breathed, frowning, wondering if he'd been about to say something.

      "Compatibility's very important, don't you think?" he asked in an upbeat tone, straightening and shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets. "In bed as well as out."

      "Yes, but..."

      "Come on. I'll give you the guided tour." He beamed, looking for all the world like a cheeky little boy showing off his latest toys.

      "Not much to show off, is there? It's all one room. I can see everything."

      "Hey, play along while I'm showing off! And you can't see everything; the bathroom's through that door there. Certain rooms need a little privacy."

      "Including the bedroom?" There was no bed in sight and I assumed it was up the flight of stairs running up one wall. The door to which Leo had pointed seconds before was under these stairs.

      "That's what the mezzanine's for," he said, pointing up. "We'll start there. Who wouldn't want to show off the most important room? Right, come on."

      "Um... where should I leave my bag? In fact, should I take my shoes off?"

      "What the hell for?" He looked me up and down. Mostly down, focusing on my legs.

      "You know, visiting someone else's place. Polite to take your shoes off and all that jazz."

      "Good God woman, I'm not that house proud. Besides, I happen to like those legs in stilettos."

      "Not house proud? This place is immaculate!" In truth, the thought of my own home humbled me. It was nowhere near as glamorous as this. Clean and tidy, yes, but...not in this league. Leo Carson lived in a different kind of home and a different world.

      "You can dump your bag on the bed," he said. "And walk up the stairs in front of me, I want to get an eyeful of your arse."

      "Good." I swallowed. "Uh, I mean good about the stilettos. Not my arse. I never get the chance to wear heels at work so I choose to mangle my feet as much as possible in my spare time." Carrying my bag, I led the way up the stairs and just before turning away I caught an expression of approval as his gaze swept over my legs. Again.

      "What do you do? For work I mean?" he asked and when I looked over my shoulder I caught the same look on his face. "If you don't wear heels at work I'm assuming you're not a lap dancer?"

      "Do I look like a lap dancer to you?" Pause, while he chuckled. "Don't answer that. I'm..."

      I reached the top of the stairs and swallowed a gasp, not wanting to make my admiration manifest. I was twentyfour; too old to be a fan girl or groupie.

      Not that I'd expected a four-poster but this bed was grand enough. King size, it faced the mezzanine's balcony and the ceiling-height windows in the main room beyond. Bracketed by narrow bedside tables, it nestled—if such a large bed could nestle—below an uncovered skylight in the sloping roof.