“Yes?”

“I have your DNA test results.”

I clear my throat. “Go ahead.”

“Both the blood test and the cheek swab show a 99.9 percent chance of paternity with the subject Floyd Jolly.”

I shouldn’t be surprised. I already knew. Floyd’s eyes told the tale better than DNA ever could.

Still, it’s a jolt to my psyche.

After all these years, I have a biological father. One I know. One who’s a drunk and a derelict.

I have to call Dad. Then we have to tell Donny. He doesn’t know anything about Floyd Jolly yet. Dad and I decided to wait until we had actual proof.

Fuck.

“Thank you for getting back to me so promptly,” I say in a robotic monotone.

“You’re very welcome. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, there isn’t. Bye.” I lay my phone down and look up.

Ashley.

She’s still here, standing in my office, looking like a feast for all senses.

Here comes that ride into hell.

“Close the door,” I tell her, my voice still monotone.

She lifts her eyebrows but doesn’t move.

“Close the door,” I say again.

She edges backward, never dropping her gaze from mine, reaches behind her for the doorknob, and pulls the door shut.

“Come here,” I say.

“What do you want?”

“I think you know.”

“Wait, wait, wait… You leave me in a hotel room with money on the night table. Make me feel like nothing more than a common whore, and then you—”

“You want to talk? Fine. Go talk to someone else. If you want to fuck, you can stay here.”

“Dale, I—”

“It’s a simple question, Ashley.”

“It’s anything but simple. We need to figure out—”

“I don’t need to figure anything out. I already know what’s happening. I’m on a ride into hell. You want to come along?”

She wrinkles her forehead. “What?”

“I can’t explain it. I don’t want to anyway. If you want to be with me, you have to take the bad with the good. Otherwise, there’s the door.” I gesture.

She bites her lower lip, and all I can think about is how much I wish those were my teeth instead of hers. I want to bite her there gently.

I want to bite her there not so gently.

A cool rush of breeze flows over my flesh.

There are things… Things I’ve let linger in the dark recesses of my mind. Things that I think I might like to try in the bedroom. Or here. In my office.

I never let my mind go there, but now it’s been unleashed.

I gave myself permission to experience pleasure. Fuck. It was more than pleasure. I was…

Dare I say it?

I was happy.

Happy during those hours with Ashley in that hotel room less than twelve hours ago.

Fucking happy.

A smile tugs at my lips at the memory.

A smile.

“Go ahead,” Ashley says.

“Go ahead with what?”

“You want to smile. Do it. Why do you resist it so much? Especially with me?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Maybe I do want to know. I care about you, Dale.”

“I don’t want you to care about me.”

Her pretty face falls. I’ve hurt her. I don’t want to hurt her, but my words are no less true.

She whips her hands to her hips. “Maybe life isn’t always about what you want. I care for you, and you can’t stop me. In fact, I…”

No, Ashley. Please, don’t say it. If you say it, I’ll have to say it back, and I can’t. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready.

“…admire you,” she says.

Thank God. She didn’t say the L-word.

And though I’m relieved, another emotion supersedes it.

I’m disappointed.

I wanted to hear her say she loves me.

Because I love her.

I love her so much it hurts. It’s like my heart is being squeezed so hard it may explode at any minute. And it’s ice on the back of my neck, tingles across my flesh. And that tightness in my groin, only it’s different, because the physical now has an emotional component.

I’m a mass of fucked-up feelings, a kaleidoscope of chaos.

Yes, I gave myself permission to experience happiness.

Now, without permission, my darker side comes along with it.

And I want Ashley White so much, I may just walk through fire to have her.

Chapter Three

Ashley

I love you.

In the end, I couldn’t say the words, because I couldn’t bear the possibility—the probability—that Dale wouldn’t return them.

I admire you.

True, no doubt. The man’s a genius with wine. Probably with other things too, if he’d only let me in.

Don’t push.

Jade’s words echo in my head.

But it’s not in my personality not to go after what I want. I had to. My mother taught me that a long time ago when she scrimped and scraped to get us out of tent city. In the end, though, I defied her. She wanted me to go after a sure thing.

I chose to go further. It wasn’t enough to be out of tent city and in an actual dwelling. It wasn’t enough to go to beauty school like my mother did. No, I wanted college. And when my interest in wine surfaced during undergrad, I wanted grad school too.

I got it. Full scholarships and all.

Now there’s something else I want.

I want Dale Steel.

And what’s truly frightening?

I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything. In fact, I may give up wine and my doctorate and everything I’ve worked for if it means one more night with Dale.

A chill sweeps over me.

I don’t mean that.

Yet I do.

My feelings for this man are that intense. That consuming.

That frightening.

He still hasn’t replied.

He doesn’t have to. I’ve seen that look in his fiery green eyes. He wants me as much as I want him. I take a step toward his desk.

He lowers his eyelids slightly, and a soft groan emerges from his throat.

That dark-red beauty flows over me. Around me.

Around us.

Then his intercom buzzes.