Monday, while she was in the middle of unpacking a shipment of medieval-style satin and silk corsets from Milan, Jed strode into her back room. “Hi there.” She beamed at him, overjoyed he had come to visit. “I didn’t think I’d see you until Friday.” He walked right over to her, removed his black cattleman’s hat and hauled her into his arms. “Needed a little refreshment.” And then he kissed her, all gone-to-hell possession. Primed for more of his body, she wiggled against him. “Mmm. Glad you came.” He nipped at her earlobe. “Thought I’d take you to lunch.” She arched a brow at him. “Just lunch?” “Just.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the door. “No need to have the others here?” “Is that what you got from the weekend? No,” he told her gravely. “We three have a pact. If you want us all together, that’s good. If you want us separately, just as fine.” “Up to me then?” She had to learn. “Not always. Sometimes, don’t you just want to be taken?”
