The irony was almost comical. He wanted her to stay, and she was ready to give him her whole self. Instead, he threw the offer back in her face so he could be alone with his lousy pride.

Grant prayed it wasn’t too late.

“Stay.” He pulled his restrains to the limit and was able to tangle his fingers in her hair to force her to look at him. Green eyes still drugged halfway with pleasure, she looked deep into his eyes and he let her see it all. “I love you. I was an ass. I see that now. I’m asking you to stay.” The clock ticked.

He waited.

Then she pulled away and got off the bed. She dressed with quick economic motions and stood beside him. Trapped by the handcuffs, he watched helplessly. When she finally turned back, one tear ran down her cheek.

Grief shattered through him.

“I didn’t do this for revenge or to show you what you’ve been missing. I wanted to give you what you’ve given me over the last few months. Pleasure. Intimacy. You opened my eyes to something new, and you made my body reach heights I don’t think I’ll ever experience again. I needed you to see what I feel for you every time you took me in your arms. But you wouldn’t let me. This was the only way I knew to reach you.” She paused. Then her voice came out in a ravaged whisper. “It’s too late. I made promises. I have an apartment and a new life. I would have done anything if you had just given me a sign. Just. . . ” She trailed off and dashed her hand across her cheek in frustration. “I love you. I will always love you, Grant Madison. But I can’t stay.”She reached down and tossed a tiny key on the bed next to him. Then left.

By the time Grant had unlocked himself and raced outside, she was already gone.

* * *

The team assembled in the conference room to hear the day’s stats. Her earpiece hooked securely over her ear, Arianna paced and gave a list of orders for the Rosebud Account. They were going after Victoria’s Secret and it was going to be a war. One she intended on winning.

Her gaze swept the room. Six people, four men, two women, sat waiting for instruction. It had taken a while to bond, but after the last three weeks of late nights and weekends, she felt as if they were almost a second family.

As creative director, she was in charge of the entire account for the Superbowl ad. They’d just secured a killer supermodel for the shoots, an edgy new Hip Hop artist for the music, targeting the twenty-something woman who wanted to rock her man’s world.

This was no Playtex woman and Arianna was committed one hundred percent to the project. Her job pretty much depended on it. She loved that her team was completely dedicated also, and their ability to hustle showed in the work.

A beep sounded in her ear and she pushed the button. “Yes?”

“You have someone waiting in your office.”

She blew out an impatient breath. “Kathy, I’m in a meeting, no time. Who is it?” The receptionist paused. “He wouldn’t give a name. Just said it was urgent and he’d wait in your office. I think it’s personal.”

Her heart paused, then continued beating. Of course, it wouldn’t be him. Arianna squashed the thought like a creepy spider and cursed her unconscious. Damnit, she had something good going on here. She’d walked away with her head held high and a broken heart, but she was healing. Except at night, when he invaded her dreams like a blood sucking vampire.

At least she had the daytime under her strict control. Until something stupid like this came up.

An unknown visitor, and suddenly images of chick flick movies and airport “I love you's” rummaged through her head.

“Fine, I’ll be there in minute.” She clicked off. “Guys, let’s take a break, I have someone in my office.” She threw out some orders and marched down the hall, nodding to some of the other employees as she made her way through the building.

She loved Chicago. The fast pace was close to New York, and the creative energy of the satellite firm was off the charts. Her conference calls with her boss were positive. The buzz on the business street confirmed she was good at her job and began to earn the respect of the upper executives. She nodded to her secretary as she opened the door to her office. She closed it behind her.

And came face to face with Grant.

God, he looked good. He stood in the corner of the room, looking over her photos and ads displayed on the wall. Lean legs clad in tight, worn jeans. A white button down shirt, left open at the neck, rolled up at the sleeves, displayed sinewy, muscled arms made rock solid by doing over a hundred pushups per day. Her gaze greedily swept his length, settling on his face. His hair was tied back in a long ponytail. His features always struck her as too hard to be classically attractive, but the harnessed masculine energy reflected in the gleam of onxy eyes, and sculpted mouth threw handsome right in the trash basket.

He turned and looked at her, seemingly relaxed and at ease. The last night they’d spent together flashed through her mind. Raw sex and intimacy for long hours. The images would never leave her. She didn’t think another man could ever wipe the last vestige of him coming inside of her, finally free of his control and belonging completely to her.

Yet she had left. It had been too late.

Arianna kept her voice neutral and prayed for strength. “To say this is a surprise is an understatement. Hello, Grant. Welcome to Chicago.”

His gaze probed hers, then shifted to sweep over her face and body in a sensual caress, as if she still belonged to him. “Hello, Arianna. You look wonderful.” She shrugged. Her designer charcoal suit was conservatively cut for business, but he seemed more interested in the swell of her breasts and the glimpse of her legs clad in high heels.

The same heels she had worn that night.

“Thank you. What can I do for you?”

He ignored the question and took a seat, relaxing back in the leather chair as if they had all the time in the world for a chat. “How do you like Chicago?” She clamped down on her impatience and swore she could play the game as well as he.

“Love it. Fast paced environment and a great creative team.”

“So, you’re happy.”

She forced a smile. “Yes, I’m happy.”

“I’m glad.”

He sat back in the chair, watching her. Arianna used her breathing techniques just as he had taught her, but she was swiftly going to lose it. The polite façade slipped.

“What are you doing here, Grant?”

He smiled. “I knew it wouldn’t take you long to get to the punch line.” She rested her hands on her hips. “I have no more time to play games. I have to get back to work, and I’m not sure what this little visit is supposed to prove.”

“That I love you.”

Arianna flinched. She wished she had a bullet proof vest for that remark. “I can’t do this anymore.” She turned to go, but he crossed the room and stopped her. His fingers closed around her hands and he deliberately pushed the door closed, his chest pressed against her back, strong thighs hooked around hers. His breath stirred against her ear.

“I can’t, either. You were right to leave, Arianna. I screwed up and I’ll never forgive myself. But I won’t let that happen again. I’m asking you to give me another chance.” She turned in a fury. “Oh, now you’re into long distance relationships? It’s too late, Grant. Are we going to fly back and forth on weekends? Have phone sex? I don’t think I’ll ever get over you, but I’m going to give it a hell of a try.” He cupped her face with his hands. She gazed into eyes full of love and heat and want.

Her breaths caught at the evident emotions on his face. He dropped a gentle kiss onto her lips, softly kissing her with a humbleness that made her weep. His soft growl raked across her ears.

“Ask me to stay.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I sold the school. I’m saying I packed up my apartment and found one right here. I’m saying I’ve already looked into possible locations to build a yoga school in Chicago.” Arianna shook her head, his words causing a ray of sharp hope and soul ripping fear to slash through her. “No, you can’t be serious. I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s not about you. I understand now, Arianna. I didn’t let you make your choice, but I’m asking you to let me make mine. I want you in my life. I can build another school, find another place to live. I can’t find another you.”

His grip tightened on her. His eyes blazed with a fierceness that zapped the air around them. “Ask me to stay.”

The road forked before her. Grant Madison had ripped up his roots and travelled to Chicago, willing to give up everything for her. She now held his choice in her hands, as once he had held hers. Shaking with the force of her emotions, she closed her eyes as her instinct and logic battled.

What if their relationship didn’t work? Would he forgive her? Would he forgive himself?

Did they have enough between them to foster each other through work ambitions and a new environment?

She opened her mouth to ask him the same questions.

But she knew the answers.

She kissed him. Her mouth over his, sipping at those carved lips, drowning in the delicious taste of man and soap and a hint of coffee, their tongues mating with slow thrusts as the room around them drifted away.

“Stay with me, Grant.” She clung hard to him, her face and eyes and heart an open book.

“I love you. I love who you are and who I am when I’m with you. I love your passion with your students and your need to be a better man. I want you to stay and build a life with me here.” He took her mouth and kissed her, holding her tight as the familiar heat wrapped around them. He gave a shout of laughter and swung her around the office.

“I knew you were trouble the first time you walked into my studio,” he said, his face buried in her hair.

“I knew you were trouble the first time you told me to breathe.” She couldn’t stop kissing him, addicted to the taste of the man she loved. “It’s going to be a long haul for both of us. My new job. Your new school.”

“I’ll bring you picnic lunches,” he said.

“We’ll make love in the yoga studio.”

“You can test out the Rosebud lingerie on me.”

A joyous laugh escaped her. “Thank God for tantra. I intend to keep up my practices.”

“You better. We’re just getting started.”

He backed her up against the door and turned the lock. Her earpiece beeped in her ear.

“Yes, Kathy?”

“Your team is waiting in the conference room.”

She gave him a wicked grin. “Tell them I need another ten minutes.” She pressed the button, grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down to the floor.

“Never underestimate the power of a quickie,” he groaned out, then covered his mouth with hers.