“How do you know that’s where I’m staying?”

His answer was a smirk on those gorgeous full lips. “God, you’re cute when you’re sassy. It’s the only hotel in town.”

When we pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the little Victorian house that had been converted to a bed and breakfast, Luke shifted the truck into park and cut the engine.

“You want to come inside?” My voice trembled only slightly, but my heart was jack-hammering against my ribs.

“Better not.” His voice was rough, and I sensed his restraint was hanging by a thread, just like mine. “People in this town talk.” He reached over and placed his hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze. “Plus, I’m not gonna lie. I’m attracted to you, duchess, and I might not behave like a gentleman if I come inside.”

“Maybe I’m done with guys who pretend to be perfect gentlemen.”

He released a growl of frustration and leaned in closer, placing a soft kiss on my jaw. He could be such a stubborn, rough-around-the edges prick, and then other times, he could be so sweet and tender.

“I almost hate to admit this,” I said, “but I had fun with you tonight.”

“Me too,” he murmured with his lips inches from mine.

Wetting my lips with my tongue, I fought off a smile at the way his hungry gaze tracked the movement. He started slow, his lips hovering at my jaw before he peppered soft kisses against my neck.

“Luke,” I groaned. I wanted this, and I had no idea what had come over me. Maybe it was part of being on the run, but I wanted to sin. Wanted him to make me forget everything—my past, my mistakes . . . hell, even my own damn name.

Capturing my mouth in a hungry kiss, he lashed his tongue at mine and I took everything he offered. The feel of his rough, calloused fingertips grazing my skin, the taste of whiskey on his breath, his masculine scent—it was intoxicating.

Climbing over the center console, I planted myself in his lap and pushed my hands into his hair as I kissed him back. His kisses were rough and intense, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the way this man fucked. Would he take me hard and fast, or draw things out until I was a whimpering mess?

Moving in his lap until I found the right angle, I pushed my hips closer, grinding against the steely erection behind his zipper that pressed at my core.

His deep groan of frustrated need made my inner muscles clench.

As I worked myself against him, we continued kissing, his hands locked on my hips as I rolled them against his. All my cards were on the table. I wanted him and he knew it. And lucky for me, it seemed he wanted me just as badly.

Luke gripped my ass, working me against his cock. I was close, so close. Just a little more pressure . . .

“Time out.” He groaned.

Time out? Did he just call a timeout? Putting a few inches of space between us, I blinked to clear my hazy vision and gazed up at him.

“I’m not fucking you in my truck. And if we go any further, that’s what’s going to happen.”

My heart pounding, my panties soaked, I crawled from his lap. Partly annoyed at him and partly annoyed at myself for getting carried away, I grabbed my purse and opened the door.

Outside the truck, the fresh air did wonders to clear my head. I was never like this.

Luke’s sly smile was back as he hopped out of the truck, and he was back to rubbing my arms. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Wasn’t that a good question? “I don’t know. I’ll have to check my schedule,” I snapped, still mad at him for calling a damn timeout.

He chuckled again, low under his breath, and the sound vibrated against my skin. I had no idea how it was possible for this man to get under my skin so deeply, so quickly, but he had.

“I was thinking if you’re free, I’d show you around the distillery. But you know, only if you’re free.”

The wiseass. He knew I had nothing to do but sit around and wait for my car to get fixed.

“I’m free,” I huffed.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

My eyebrows shot up. “In the morning?”

“Okay, make it ten,” he said with a chuckle. “And be ready to put that marketing genius to work.”

“You got it.”

• • •

At five to ten when Luke showed up the next morning, I was up, showered, and dressed. My hair was still damp, but when I saw him standing there at the foot of the stairs, holding two paper cups of hot coffee, the last thing I wanted was to spend twenty minutes blow-drying my hair and putting on makeup when Luke probably didn’t care about things like that anyway.

Besides, that was the old Charlotte, always put together and polished. And look where it had gotten me. Nowhere.

“Ready?” he asked, looking up at me from the parlor where Opal had left him.

I winked. “Give me thirty seconds.”

In the adjoining bathroom, I pulled my still-damp hair into a high messy ponytail and dabbed on some lip balm. There. I was ready.

My cell phone chimed, and I glanced down at it with a scowl. My parents. Again. Hitting a button to silence it, I stuffed it in the back pocket of my jeans. I wasn’t ready to face them or all the shit I left behind when I hightailed it out of New York.

“That was fast,” Luke said as he handed me a cup of coffee.

The surprise in his tone told me that was unexpected. I decided that I liked this new Charlotte, liked doing the opposite of what people expected.

“Cream and sugar in yours. Hope that’s all right.”

“It’s perfect.” I took a sip of the warm brew.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Luke asked as we climbed into his truck.

I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the whiskey we’d downed last night, or the way he’d left me riled up and aroused.

“I slept like a baby.” At least, that much was true. I was still slightly annoyed at him for the way he’d called things off last night, but I’d never admit that to him.

A few minutes later, we turned off the main road and onto his property, rolling hills and grassy pastures dotted with massive pecan trees.

“This is me.” He pointed to a pale brick two-story house at the top of the hill. A former farmhouse, it had a wide front porch and plantation-style shutters painted a glossy black framing the windows.

“All of that just for you?”

He shook his head. “Duke and Molly and I all live there. Dad left it to us.”

My throat suddenly felt dry, and I took another sip of coffee. I recalled what Opal had said about Luke’s past.

After parking his truck beside the quintessential red barn at the far end of his property, we climbed into something Luke called a side-by-side, which to me looked like a revved-up golf cart.

We cruised around the acreage while Luke pointed things out to me—the tree house he and his brother built when they were twelve, the pond where he got caught skinny-dipping with the pastor’s daughter. It was crazy how comfortable Luke and I were together. I’d known him a mere forty-eight hours, and yet we felt like old friends.

The fresh country air and sunshine did wonders for my mood. I was happy that I’d opted not to style my hair. Hell, I was just plain happy.

“Careful now, duchess. If you smile any harder, I might go and think you’re actually enjoying yourself.”

The playful edge to his voice was addictive. After only a short couple of days, I could already feel myself falling for his charms.

A little while later, we finally stopped in front of the distillery and climbed out, stretching our legs.

“You wanna see where the magic happens?” Luke asked.

I rolled my eyes, following him toward the building that was rustic, but cute. “Why do I feel like that’s a cheesy pickup line you’ve used a thousand times to seduce a thousand girls?”

He halted in his tracks and turned to face me. “There are two things you need to know. First, this isn’t some ploy to get you into bed. I was serious about wanting your help.”

I nodded. “And the second?”

“There haven’t been a thousand women.” And then he smiled. “Maybe only nine hundred or so.”

The tinge of something darker in his gaze told me he had a story in his past that he used humor to hide, maybe something just as deep and painful as my own. But I didn’t want to think about all that just now, so I grinned back at him and followed him inside.