The minute Rhys pulled into his parents' drive, an uneasy feeling crawled up his spine. He didn't recognize the red Malibu. He'd already gotten a text from his sister earlier with pictures, so something had to be up with this. A blind date hadn't happened in a while, but now that Laken was history, he feared the worst.

He sat in his truck for a moment, contemplating his next move. Leave. Text them that he had to work late. Or better yet, he'd been there, saw the car, assessed the situation, and wanted no part of it. Accalia would call later to confirm his horse's ass status. Mom would call to apologize and swear she had nothing to do with it. Dad would call to tell Rhys to be kind to his sister and mother. Dealing with three phone calls would be as bad as sitting through a dinner with a surprise date. Fuck it.

He got out and lumbered across the lawn. Giggles and screams came from the backyard, so he walked around the corner of the house to the gate, and shoved it open. Effy and Olive ran to meet him. "Uncle Rhys!"

When they reached him, he slipped an arm around each girl, lifted them, and twirled. "How're my two favorite nieces?"

"We're your only nieces," Effy said.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot that."

"You're silly," Olive said.

"That's why you love me." He gave each girl a kiss on the cheek and set them back on the ground.

Olive's big brown eyes widened. "Mommy has a new girlfriend for you."

He waggled his eyebrows. "I don't need one, but how does she look? Is she missing any teeth?"

The five-year-old fell into a giggling fit, light brown curls flying in every direction. "Noooo."

"What about her hair? Does she have some, or is she bald?"

Olive scrunched up her nose. "She has long hair."

"She's pretty." A year older and a carbon copy of her younger sister, Effy crossed her arms. "And nice. She's my substitute teacher. Mommy said you couldn't do any better."

He arched a brow. "Did she now?" He leaned down to their eye level, putting a hand on each girl's shoulder. "For your information, your mama doesn't know everything."

The backdoor opened, and the matchmaker stepped to the porch. "Come inside, Rhys. I have someone I want you to meet."

He spun around and frowned. He loved his sister but sometimes wanted to throttle her. Today, he fought the urge with all he had. "Yeah. That's what I hear." He moved to join her, then whispered. "Didn't you get my text? Not interested."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch. This isn't the same girl. This is someone else. I'll introduce you, and you can take it from there."

"You don't get it. Effy said she works at the school. That makes this awkward. If I'm not interested in her or if she doesn't like me, then it's an embarrassing situation for you, Effy, and the teacher. Not good. Now I feel obligated to take her out."

As he finished the last remark, he was thankful he'd kept his voice quiet, because the guest appeared in the doorway. He lost his breath, and excitement stirred his groin. She was knockout gorgeous.

She gave a slow flutter of her lashes, then licked her lips, and stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm Steffy. It's nice to meet you."

Four different positions of how he wanted her flashed in his mind at lightning speed. Damn, he was horny, and from her slow appraisal of him, so was she.

Later that night, he marked two of those sex fantasies off his list. The beauty lay naked beside him, breathing steady and even. Her long dark hair fanned out across the pillow, her face relaxed. Steffy was bright and focused on her career. She'd just moved to the area and gotten hired for the fall term at Effy's school. She was also energetic in bed. Something he appreciated.

She opened her eyes and yawned. "Is it morning?"

"No. You want a drink? Soda, wine, beer?"

"Wine, please."

He swung his feet to the floor and pulled on his pajama pants. "Be right back." A few minutes later, he returned with two glasses already filled and offered one.

She lifted to a sitting position and piled pillows behind her back. "I hope we can do this again sometime."

He'd hoped to do it again within the next hour. "Sure. How's Saturday night? There's this great little restaurant a few blocks from here."

She took a long, slow sip, then puckered her lips. "I'm not interested in dating. I'm engaged."

He choked on his wine. Droplets dotted the sheets. Shit. "What?"

"Don't worry. He won't come charging through the door or hunt you down. He's in Iraq. Been there for eight months. I love him, but I need sex every now and again."

Rhys' stomach churned. He'd done a tour in Iraq and saw guys get Dear John letters and how it ripped them apart. "Get out."

She sat straighter. "What?"

"You heard me," he snarled. "I thought you were single."

She scooted to the side of the bed, set her glass on the nightstand, and snatched up her clothes. "Seriously? I haven't led you on. I made it clear I'm not interested in a relationship."

"After the fact."

"Well, would it make you feel better if I said I was fantasizing about him the entire time you were on top of me?"

"God. I can't believe you. Just go." He turned and left the room because he couldn't stand to look at her another minute. Cold sweat beaded above his lip, and a flashback he'd not had in months came in Technicolor. He shivered and then went to get a glass of whiskey.

An hour later, he was still awake with Steffy on his mind. The casual sex meant nothing to her, but to her fiancé, it'd mean everything. The guy would blame Rhys, and he'd been down that road. It was one he didn't care to travel again. He understood the whole Karma thing and hoped Karma understood his innocence.

He went into the bathroom and started the shower. Placing his palms flat against the wall, hot water rained on him. He wished he could wash Steffy out of his brain, but the thrust of her body, the touch of her hands, and the sound of her sighs drummed in his head. The one thing he hated most in life was a liar. She'd lied by omission, but in his book, that carried the same weight as blatant deceit.

He stepped out of the stall and dried himself off, then wiped the mirror with his forearm. Bloodshot eyes told the story of a sleepless night, but not the guilt that settled behind them. He rubbed his fingers across the scar on his chest. A half-inch in the other direction, he'd be dead because of a lie. When he closed his eyes, he could still see the beautiful redhead who'd approached him in the bar, asking to share his table. Hours later, they'd shared more than drinks.

It'd been ten years, and he wondered if the memory would ever fade. The stranger's face flashed in his head, and Rhys recalled how he'd not felt threatened by the man until he raised the gun and fired. No time to react, and there'd been no place to hide.

He pulled on his boxers, then went to the closet. He didn't keep a full wardrobe at the condo, but enough for a few days. Planning to steer clear of the place and women for a while might help erase the previous night's mistake. If any good came from the error in judgment, it was a hard lesson learned. In the future, he'd be damned sure to establish a woman's relationship status before he took her to bed.

Once dressed, he went to the kitchen, stuck two pieces of bread in the toaster, and started the coffee. When the toast popped up, he slathered on butter and a thick layer of strawberry jam. Then he thought of Ace. She'd set him up and would take responsibility. The blunder might convince her to stop trying to find him a soul mate. If that happened, at least some good would come from his recklessness.

He shook his head to clear it and tried to concentrate on work. Soon, he'd meet with the top guys at Rolland Media for a second time. The appointment should give him a good idea if his job remained intact.

His phone sounded, and he grimaced when he saw his sister's name. He steeled his shoulders. "Hello."

"How'd it go last night?"

"Did you know she's in a relationship with a soldier?"

Ace's voice elevated an octave. "What?"

"Yeah. Something she forgot to mention."

"Oh God, I am so sorry. I would have never invited her to Mom's if I'd known."

"Let this be a lesson. Stop trying to set me up. I mean it. I'm more than capable of finding women on my own."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You're right. I should have asked. I never thought..."

"Not your fault. At least the guy is out of the country. The last thing I need is someone to come gunning for me."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He sighed. It wasn't her fault, and he couldn't be mad at Ace. "It's okay. I've got to go."

"Wait. Are we still on for lunch Thursday?"

"Yeah. I'm not mad at you. This is my fault. I should have asked her. See you later." He ended the call, put the incident out of his mind, and tried to regain his good mood from yesterday, before Steffy, the liar.

Two hours later, after sitting behind stalled traffic on his route to work, Rhys angled into his marked parking space. On the elevator ride up to his office, he attempted to concentrate on the ad campaigns waiting on his desk, but Steffy kept appearing. Each time, he'd shake the thought away, only to have it surface again. Fresh emotions like anger took time to age. Today would be difficult, and the best way to handle it was to bury his head in work.

"Morning, Melissa."

The secretary glanced up and smiled. "Rough night?"

For the past few years, besides his mom and sister, Melissa was the woman he counted on to keep his business life in order. He wondered why everyone couldn't be more like her—dependable and trustworthy. "That's an understatement."

She disappeared around the corner, then returned moments later with two cups in hand, set one on his desk, and settled herself into the chair across from him. "Want to talk?"

He pulled open his desk drawer, retrieved a bottle of Ibuprofen, and shook four tablets into his palm. He put them in his mouth, tossed his head back, and swallowed them with a big gulp. The liquid seared all the way down his throat, and he hoped the combination burned his headache away. He rubbed his neck. "I made a mistake last night."

Melissa lowered her head and peered over the top of her glasses. He didn't much feel like a lecture, but he'd opened the can of worms, so whatever she dished out, he had to take.

"Does it involve a woman?"

He nodded and hoped his lack of details ended the conversation, then remembered since he'd started RM as a bushy eyed college intern, that had never happened. Before the age of fifty, she'd outlived two husbands so advice was her strong point, especially in the romance department. "What happened? You get drunk and go to bed with a ten and wake up with a two?"

He laughed. That southern drawl of hers could make the alphabet sound funny. He regained his composure and started to answer, but Melissa held up her hand.

"No need to tell me, honey. It's none of my business, but if you need advice, I'm here for you."

She rose from the chair and offered her best motherly smile. The one he'd grown to love. He must look bad for her to give up so easily. "Thanks. Maybe when this headache eases up, I'll take you up on that offer."

She headed to the door and spoke over her shoulder. "The yellow folder on your desk has the research results you needed. I'll bring you another cup. You look like you could use it."

"Thanks." He shouldered back in his chair and followed a ray of light across the room, as it glinted against the crystal award plaque on his bookshelf. That recognition, along with his track record, should be enough to secure his job. But according to the merger rumors, he wasn't sure they'd save him.

Damn, Rhys got fooled again. He doesn't have good luck at all.

TEASER: Then he dipped her, and when she came up, he kissed her full on the mouth.

Ooooh, wonder who that's about.