He stepped inside the dining room and saw that Fulton had returned from his errand on the mainland and was sitting at a round table next to Andie. They weren’t eating yet, just sitting and talking.

  Andie looked up when he walked in, and once she saw him, her eyes widened and she grinned as if he’d just given her the answer to a question. He found that odd since neither of them had said anything yet.

  “That’s our solution,” she said.

  “Terrence?” Fulton shot his wife an are-you-crazy look, and Terrence had to agree with him. Because while he’d often been seen as a problem or a problem maker, no one had ever called him the solution to anything.

  But Andie had gone and got some ridiculous idea in her head, and it’d be hell on earth to get her to change her mind.

  “Yes,” she said with that strange look still in her eyes. “Terrence is perfect.”

  There was a soft snort at his back, and he realized Ronnie had entered behind him.

  “Sorry,” Ronnie said. “I didn’t mean for that to be audible.”

  Terrence didn’t believe her. He pulled out a chair at the table for her and then sat down himself. “Would you mind starting over? I feel as if I’m missing something.”

  “The children’s home outside Portland?”

  “Okay.” Terrence vaguely remembered Andie talking about a children’s home before, and he was fairly certain both her and Fulton spent time there helping out, volunteering or something.

  “Every summer, the kids do a fundraiser for the home. A play. Art auction. Bake sale. Things like that.”

  Terrence nodded, still unclear how anything Andie said pertained to him, much less perfectly.

  “This summer, they’re doing a talent show. Several of them are singing, but the pianist who volunteered to play accompaniment for them broke her wrist and can’t do it now.”

  Hell. She wasn’t seriously thinking what he thought she was, was she?

  “Terrence can play the piano?” Ronnie asked, obviously having reached the same conclusion he had.

  “Yes,” Andie said. “And he’s good too.”

  “I was good.” Terrence ran his fingers through his hair. “There’s a big difference. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve played?”

  Andie waved her hand as if it was of no consequence he hadn’t touched piano keys in fifteen years. “I’m sure it’s like riding a bike. You never forget how.”

  “You might remember how to ride a bike, but that’s not the same as actually doing it. You can remember all you want. Just make sure you have a soft place to fall when you realize you forgot how to balance the damned thing.”

  “How do you know how to play the piano?” Ronnie asked.

  “He used to sing and play before he became the next big thing in Hollywood,” Andie said. “In fact, there was a time he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pursue acting or music.”

  This was why hanging around people you’d known forever was such a bad idea. They had no problem bringing up shit you’d long thought buried.

  “Really?” Ronnie lifted an eyebrow his way.

  “Yes.” Andie nodded and then turned to him. “Think about it. You’re a big-time celebrity. And you can play the piano. It would be so wonderful, and you’d be such a draw for the fundraiser.”

  Fulton placed his hand over hers on the table. “It would be really great, love, but if he hasn’t played in…” He looked at Terrence.

  “Fifteen years.”

  Even Andie winced at that.

  Fulton continued. “It’s going to be hard for him to pick it back up like nothing’s changed.”

  “I don’t see why,” Ronnie said, shooting him a sly grin. “I mean, seriously, what else does he have to do here all day other than practice? Read manuscripts? Play in the dungeon with employees under the guise of doing research for Lennox MacLure?”

  Terrence picked his jaw up off the floor. “What about you, princess? Didn’t your well-bred and respectable Southern upbringing include piano lessons?”

  That sly grin didn’t leave her face. “Only until I was six and attempted to tune it myself. With kitchen shears.”

  “Holy fuck,” Fulton mumbled.

  “Yeah, that pretty much ended my piano-playing days.” Ronnie shrugged. “That leaves you, Hollywood.”

  She said it was like a challenge. Like she was throwing down a gauntlet.

  Damn it all.

  “You don’t think I can do it,” Terrence said.

  “I’m just saying you’ve always been so vocal about protecting your image and being seen in the best possible light, but yet I’ve never heard of you doing any charity work,” Ronnie replied, and fuck it, she was challenging him.

  “That’s because I don’t advertise the charity work I do.” Terrence told himself not to take her statement personally. He’d made a conscious decision to keep his charitable work private.

  “So you say,” she replied. “Or it could just as easily mean there isn’t anything to advertise. It doesn’t make any sense for you to keep quiet about how you help others.”

  “Maybe I don’t like the idea of using the hardships of others to further my career.”

  “Bravo.” Ronnie slow clapped. “I see now why you picked acting over singing. You spoke that line so passionately I almost believed you.”

  It was at that second he realized that Ronnie really didn’t like him at all. Was it possible he’d only dreamed she’d ogled him in the dungeon earlier or that he’d misread her interest in the scene?

  “I can vouch for him,” Andie said, and Terrence nearly jumped at the sound of her voice, having somehow forgotten that he and Ronnie weren’t alone. “Terrence started an organization named Pets for Vets that pairs rescue dogs with retired veterans.”

  Terrence was getting ready to tell her to knock it off, but then Ronnie’s head whipped toward him.

  “I’ve heard of that organization,” Ronnie said, her eyes wide. “That’s you?”

  He couldn’t say why or what, but something about her question or her obvious amazement struck him the wrong way. “Yes, that’s me. It’s the least I can do since the assholes in DC, like your dad, don’t give a shit about helping those who served our country.”

  “If you think you’re going to be able to get some sort of reaction out of me by saying things about my dad, let me tell you right from the start that I don’t give a flying fig what you think about him. Nor will I ever attempt to stand up for him. Understand, Hollywood?”

  It really shouldn’t turn him on the way she called him Hollywood. More than likely, she thought the nickname would somehow bother him. The joke was on her because it didn’t. Not one bit.

  Okay. So maybe it was the first time or two she used it, but that was only until he realized she did so as a way to keep him at arm’s length. Maybe in her mind, if she didn’t use his name, she could convince herself she was talking with anyone. Or perhaps her intention was to make him feel inferior or unimportant. To give the impression he was so unworthy she couldn’t even be bothered to remember his name.

  Conversely, those were not the reasons he called her princess. He did it because of her reaction when he did so. The way her skin would flush, just a bit, with the slightest hint of pink staining her cheeks. She could deny it all she wanted, but her body didn’t lie. She wanted to be someone’s princess. Maybe not his. Probably not his.

  Even so, he hoped she found that one day, a man who would treat her the way she deserved to be treated.

  She was still looking at him with fire in her eyes. Damn. He’d been told redheads were like that. He’d been under the mistaken assumption the effect would be lessened with her lighter strawberry blonde hue.

  “I understand completely, princess,” he said. “You are nothing like your father.”

  “Thank God,” Fulton whispered under his breath. Andie punched his arm.

  “And I’m not either,” Terrence continued. “So even though it goes against my typical nature to do such things in private, and because I was asked and my attendance could impact the outcome in a good way, I’ll do it.”

  Andie and Ronnie spoke at the same time.

  “You will?”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Terrence nodded and looked across the table to Fulton and Andie. “I can count on the two of you to tell me what I need to do?”

  “Of course,” Fulton hastened to reply while Andie sat by his side, a knowing grin on her face. A grin that made Terrence bite back a groan.

  “Veronica?” Andie asked in a voice he recognized at once.

  “Yes?” Ronnie turned her attention back to Andie. Terrence braced himself for what would come next. Ronnie, having only known Andie for a few weeks, had no idea what was coming. To be fair, no one other than Andie knew exactly what she was thinking. But the look and the voice spoke of a deviousness no one expected from down-to-earth Andie. Even Fulton had a wary expression.

  “You mentioned a few days ago that you took dance,” Andie said. “There are a few girls who need help with their routines. Would you mind lending a hand?”

  Terrence swallowed his laugh and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cackling as Andie’s trap locked itself firmly around Ronnie.

  Having just handed Terrence his ass about not helping when called upon, Ronnie had no leg to stand on to turn the request down.

  “Of course I wouldn’t mind,” Ronnie said, though it was obvious she’d rather be boiled alive.

  “Excellent,” Andie said as if she hadn’t known from the start exactly what the outcome would be. “Thank you both so much. This is going to mean the world to the kids and will help the fundraiser more than you’ll ever know.” She stood up and stood before her husband, smiling. “See? I told you it wasn’t a big deal and that we would work something out.”

  “Woman, you scare me.” Fulton pulled her into his lap. “And it fucking turns me on.”

  It wasn’t until Fulton captured his wife’s lips in a kiss much too passionate for any dinner table—except, perhaps, for one at a BDSM academy—that Terrence remembered the couple swing dancing at their wedding.

  Chapter 12

  Veronica

  “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think Andie and Fulton were trying to set us up,” Veronica told Terrence the following Saturday morning as they headed toward the children’s home for their first practice session with the kids.

  Terrence snorted, and she turned her head to look at him. They were in Andie’s car with Terrence driving while she sat in the passenger seat.

  “I do know better,” Terrence said. “And I can tell you with near 100 percent certainty that they are trying to set us up. Why do you think they asked us to help in the first place?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” she asked. Why would Andie, or Fulton for that matter, try to fix her up with Terrence? Hadn’t she been clear in their conversations that, one, she wasn’t looking for a relationship, and two, if she was, it wouldn’t be Terrence? And even if she wanted both a relationship and Terrence, it still wouldn’t happen because, three, she wasn’t a submissive anymore?

  “I wish I was,” Terrence said. “But for some reason they have it in their heads, or at least Andie does, that Lennox somehow has this master plan of the two of us getting together.”

  “How could that possibly be the case? I’ve never met Lennox MacLure.”

  “Hell if I know.” He gave a not-quite laugh. “I gave up trying to understand Andie a long time ago. I don’t know about Fulton, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s going along with her because he’s learned to pick his battles and this isn’t one he’s going to fight.”

  She wasn’t able to decipher what emotion she heard in his voice when he spoke of Andie. It didn’t sound like sadness. Maybe regret? Curious stuff, but not her business at all, so she let the subject drop.

  “I don’t think I’d have questioned her motives if she’d only asked me to help,” he continued. “But the second she asked you about the dance thing, I knew something was up.”

  “Why?”

  He flashed her a smile. “Because both Andie and Fulton are accomplished dancers. At the very least, they’re above-average swing dancers. I know this not only because I’ve seen them but also when we were together, Andie was always trying to get me to dance with her, and I hate dancing.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I would think if they could swing dance, they’d also be able to pick up other dances as well. Or at least be in a position to help a few kids in a talent show.”

  She had to admit he had a point. “I wasn’t aware they were swing dancers.”

  “And that’s what Andie was betting on.”

  Andie seemed to be working a well-thought-out plan. What else did the woman have up her sleeve? It was hard to imagine the woman with the sweet disposition she knew as Andie could be devious. “In that case, I suppose the emergency they had this morning at the lighthouse was less an emergency and more like an excuse to get us to spend some time together?”

  “That’s my suspicion,” Terrence confirmed. “Why else would she have insisted on that video call unless she knew she wouldn’t be able to introduce us today?”

  Last night after dinner Andie had planned a video conference with the couple who ran the home. “Just for a quick introduction,” Andie had promised. “Get it out of the way.”

  Veronica had thought the request was a bit out of the ordinary, but she’d gone along with it. Now, looking back, she wished she’d asked questions.

  “I can see it now,” she said. “Too late to do much of anything about it though.” A sudden thought hit her. “Do you think she’s going to be doing things like this all summer long as part of her mixed-up plan to get us together?”

  “I’m certain of it.”

  Veronica didn’t reply right away, but thought through the implications of being an item on Andie’s to-do list for the summer. “There has to be a way to get her to leave us alone.”

  “I agree,” Terrence said. “You think of one, let me know and I’ll do it.”

  The problem was she couldn’t think of anything that would deter Andie from her current path.

  Well, except for one item that was so outlandish, it wasn’t worth mentioning. But as she sat there in the car, thinking, it became less and less outlandish and started becoming more and more sensible.

  She’d thought everything would be fine if she just avoided him or refused to be alone with him. She knew, however, that her body language had a way of speaking for her even when she was able to keep her tone of voice and expression neutral. All he had to do was look at her with those damn eyes of his and she’d become putty in his hands. He had a way of looking at her as if he saw straight through the mask of politeness she’d been using to fool damn near everyone her entire life. Then the corner of his mouth would rise a touch. Not a lot, but enough to let her know that she hadn’t fooled him at all.

  It left her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Two emotions she hated feeling.

  It was time to try a different approach.

  “You’re unusually quiet,” Terrence said. “Are you plotting some way to get Andie to forget about us as her summer project?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But it’s a bit ridiculous, and I can’t see you agreeing to go along with me.”

  “Why don’t you at least ask me before making a call on the way you think I’ll decide?”

  She wanted to tell him to forget the whole thing, that she wasn’t sure she could go through with her idea even if he decided to give it a try.

  Liar, she told herself. You’d love it and you know it. That’s the main reason you don’t want to do it. You’re afraid of what you might think if you do go along with it. Afraid of what you might feel. When are you going to stop letting your life be ruled and dictated by fear?

  Wanting to prove her inner self wrong, she told him. “If Andie’s big plan is to see us together, the only thing that could thwart that plan is if we were already together.”

  “Are you suggesting…”

  “Yes,” she answered when it became clear he wasn’t going to finish speaking his question out loud.

  She was surprised he didn’t immediately agree with her. Since she’d been the one to insist they keep their distance from the other, it had been her assumption that without her insistence he would have approached her for a reprise of the one time they played together. The way he acted after she watched him in the dungeon proved he was interested.

  Right?

  She hated not knowing how he felt about her.

  It doesn’t matter. Who cares if he likes you or not?

  But she did care and would be lying to herself to think otherwise. What she didn’t know was why she cared. Was it a pride thing? That had to be it. The only other option would be that she liked him. And she didn’t. She didn’t think.

  No, it wasn’t that she liked him, but rather she liked the way he had made her feel that one night five years ago.

  Yes. She could live with that.

  “It looks like you’re having an entire conversation inside your head,” Terrence said, drawing her back from inside her mind.

  “I was,” she said, seeing no reason to deny it. “Haven’t you ever had one in your head?”

  “I plead the fifth,” he said. “Actually, I was thinking about your idea on getting Andie off our case.”

  “And?”

  He sighed. “I think you’re right.”

  “You don’t sound very happy,” she said. “But I can’t tell if it’s because I was right or because you hate my idea.”

  “I’m surprised you suggested it is all. I was under the impression the less you saw of me the better.” When she didn’t reply to that, he added. “Unless you’re spying on me in the dungeon, in which case you want to see all of me.”

  Her face heated, but even though he saw it, she appreciated the fact that he didn’t mention it.

  “It really comes down to which is the lesser of two evils here,” she said, not sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. “If we have to tell a little story about us being attracted to each other, then I think that’s better than the alternative. At least this way we can play on our own terms. Besides,” she turned and flashed a smile in his direction. “You are relatively good-looking.”