Weeks pass. I shoot at the studio and the only person to keep me company is Regina. I try to work, to take care of the clients as best I can, but my mind keeps returning to Cole. I can't get him out of my head. Picking up my phone, I walk back into my room, and pull up his number. I've done this so many times, but I never press the button. As I sit down on my bed, I hold my thumb over his name. One touch and it will call him. I'll hear his voice again. Sitting perfectly still, I know I can't do it. There are too many things with him, things that can't be said over the phone. I have to be there to convey them in person. Why I let weeks go by is beyond me. Maybe I am a coward. Annoyed with myself, I throw the phone on my bed and pull on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I yank my hair into a ponytail and head toward the garage for my motorcycle.

The ride into the city passes in a blur as I think about what I'll say, what excuse I'll give for showing up on his doorstep unannounced, but I can't ignore it anymore. The closer I get to Manhattan, the darker and cooler it becomes until tiny droplets of water fall from the sky. The streets become slick as glass. The little sunlight that was left is gone and the street lights turn on. By the time I pull up in front of Cole's building, the sky has opened up and I'm totally soaked. My black tank clings to me like a second skin. My jeans are holding an extra ten pounds of water, making them feel stiff and heavy. I park the bike and slosh to the door. Before I can step inside the doorman stops me.

"Cole Stevens," I say and try to walk past him.

He's standing under the portico, perfectly dry, and doesn't let me pass. He glances at me once and says, "I'm sorry, but Mr. Stevens isn't expecting anyone tonight."

"I know," I reply, pushing my sopping wet hair out of my face. The guy looks at me like I'm nuts. "I didn't tell him that I was coming. Can you just tell him that I'm here?"

He shakes his head, "I'm sorry Miss. Better be on your way."

I'm about to protest when I see the valet pull up in Cole's black car. I turn toward the doors with a slow smile spreading across my lips. Finally, something is going to work in my favor. Cole will step outside and see me. We'll talk and everything will be better.

But that isn't what happens. Cole walks through the door dressed in a black tux. He looks stunning. My lips part as my jaw drops and it's all I can do to keep breathing. The way its cut, like it was made just for him, showcasing every angle of his perfect body. His dark hair is smoothed back, away from his blue eyes. He extends his elbow and a woman in a red gown follows him out.

Just as reality slams into me, just as I realize her couture dress and shoes, her status - Cole sees me. The expression on his face falters as our eyes meet. I feel the desire in that gaze, the pull on an imaginary line that runs between us. That same line that's been tugging me back to him ever since he left. But Cole doesn't say anything. He keeps walking, and helps the beautiful woman into his car. When her door closes he looks up at me.

Our eyes meet and I feel like I'm going to be sick. In every single way possible, I don't compare to her. Her elegance, her grace, her fluid movements scream of refinement that is the prideful trademark of the wealthy.

Before I can walk away, Cole says to the doorman, "Show her in. I'll be back shortly."

The doorman nods, surprised, "Yes, Mr. Stevens."

I'm deposited on the doorstep of Cole's apartment and walk inside. It's vacant.

Shivering, I wait in the kitchen, dripping on the floor, thinking he'll be right back. But Cole doesn't come right back. I wait in my sopping wet clothes, overemotional and tired. After grabbing a few towels, I set them beneath me and sit on his couch.

Before I realize what's happened, Cole's voice is in my ear. "Anna, wake up. We need to get these clothes off you. You're freezing."

Bleary-eyed, I looked up at him. He's still wearing that tux. I feel horrible and completely frozen. My arms are plastered close to my body and I can't stop shivering. I let him pull me to my feet and turn on a hot shower for me. By the time I finish, it is well after one in the morning. I wrap the towel around my body and walk out into his room.

Cole has removed his jacket and tie. The crisp white shirt is open at the collar. Cole is sitting in a blue leather chair in the corner of the room, his hand on his temples.

When I step into the room, he looks up. His eyes soften, "Feel better?" I nod, clutching the towel to my chest. "Good. You want tell me why you were riding your motorcycle in the rain?" he says, and anger vibrates in his voice.

"It wasn't raining when I left."

"It was stupid, Anna." His voice is clipped, tension lines his shoulders.

I mutter, "I do stupid things, Cole." Like continuing to think about you when you obviously have better things to do. I want to fight. I feel it inside of me, the tension waiting to explode.

He glances up at me. His expression is soft, serious, "You're staying here tonight." It's a statement. A fact.

"I am?" I don't want to leave, but something about the way he says it grates.

"You are. Let me get out of this and we can talk." He rises and goes to his closet. He grabs some clothes and tosses me a white tee shirt. "You can sleep in that."

I put it on while he's in the shower and climb onto his chair. I'm so cold, I can't stop shaking. Cole takes forever in the shower. At least it feels like forever. Between being an emotional lunatic, the long ride into the city, and the rain, I can barely keep my head up. Resting my head on the arm of the chair, I fall asleep again.

Cole's voice rouses me, but I don't fully awake until I feel his hands slide under my cold skin. "I can't let you freeze in a chair." He deposits me in his massive bed and buries me beneath blankets, but I still shiver. After a moment, I feel him sit next to me. His hands move down my sides, tucking me into the blankets so tightly that I can't move.

He looks down at me, "Better?"

I nod. "Thanks." I don't know how I feel. I don't know what I want. Part of me wants to just lay here and see what happens.

My heart flutters when his hands tuck the blankets. Did he really put me in his bed? The last time I was here, Cole gave me a guest room. This time he is sitting next to me and we are in his room. In his bed.

"I hope I didn't mess up your evening. She was very pretty, Cole. I'm really sorry."

He glances away and says, "You didn't mess up anything." His voice is soft, like he wants to say more about it, but he doesn't. "So, what was so important that you drove here in the rain?"

I try to shrug but I'm cocooned in blankets. Drowsiness is pulling at me hard. My eyelids feel like lead. "I had a bad feeling that something was wrong. It just felt like you needed help. I can't explain it. It makes no sense. So I jumped on my bike and came to make sure you were okay."

He's looking straight ahead when he answers, "You have impeccable timing... keeping me from making hideous mistakes." He grins down at me, dark hair falling into his eyes.

"Mmmm, maybe - but she looked way less than hideous to me."

Cole laughs. His entire face lights up. "God, I missed you, Lamore."

And I know he means it. I don't press him on who the woman was, because I'm the one who is in his bed.

Cole lays on his side next to me and I can feel the change in him as we lay there and talk. The tightly wound muscles in his neck seem to relax as minutes turn into hours. Sleep pulls at me, but I don't surrender.

After a while, I roll onto my side and we're facing each other. Cole's head is on his pillow, his bright blue eyes blink slowly like he's exhausted. "You're right," he says.

"About what?"

Smiling, he lowers his dark lashes and replies, "Everything, Anna."

There's a pang of pain in my heart when he says it. They are the words I'd hoped to hear, but not the right tone. His voice says he can admit it, but I know he's still holding me at arms-length, in the safe zone.

There is no way to get closer to Cole, and I know that's where I want to be.