When I met Rachel, I knew our relationship would be ephemeral. A quick fuck in the back of my truck and then I would be on to the next notch on my belt. It's all that women were to me back then. No commitments, no regrets.

And then I met Stephanie Plum.

Neither encounter turned out the way I expected.

I'd be tied to Rachel forever because of a broken condom and the daughter that mishap produced and Stephanie? Stephanie I wanted to be tied to forever.

I was still trying to figure out how the hell that second one had happened, but right now it didn't matter - I just needed to see her.

Two months had passed since I last set eyes on her and she was the first thing on my mind when I'd touched down in Trenton so as soon as I could, I made my way to her place.

But the reunion I'd been craving wasn't meant to be.

Her vehicle was in the lot but she'd apparently left without it because her apartment was empty. I debated leaving a note but decided to stop by again after my meeting. Tank didn't hide his surprise at my speedy return to the Porsche.

"She kick your ass out already?"

I gave him a raised eyebrow as I slid behind the wheel and he had the balls to grin at me. "She isn't home."

Tank cut his eyes to the piece of shit Steph called a car, parked right next to my Cayenne. "I guess she got a ride."

"You're a regular Sherlock Holmes," I quipped as I backed out of the space. On the drive to the restaurant where we'd scheduled a business dinner with a new client, Tank filled me in on what I missed while I'd been out of the country.

I tried to focus on the oral report but my mind kept straying to Stephanie and where she might be and who she might be with. Things had been in an "off" stage with the cop when I left and I planned to make that a permanent position upon my return, but who knows what happened while I'd been gone. He could have weaseled his way back into her bed in that amount of time and the thought made me a little...tense.

"Ranger." Tank's voice was sharp, bringing my head around.

"What?"

"You missed the turn."

Fuck. I needed to get my mind back in the game. I whipped a U-turn at the next intersection and got back on track. Tank wisely didn't comment on my lack of concentration.

Rossini's was packed and I filled the only open spot in the parking lot. "Tell me about Mick Sartucci," I instructed as we headed inside. Tank started a narrative on the jewelry store owner he'd signed last week while we walked.

"It's his third store," he was saying when the doorman held open the door, but I didn't hear the rest of the sentence. There was a shift in the airspace around us and a tingle made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Stephanie was in the restaurant.

I scanned the room and spotted her at a table near the kitchen. She looked stunning in a form-fitting black slip dress and matching heels and sitting across from her was a man who looked like he'd just stepped out of a J. Crew catalog. I didn't know if I was more surprised by the fact it wasn't Morelli or by the fact a rush of jealousy surged through my blood when he reached across the table and covered her hand with his.

"Right this way, Mr. Manoso. We have your preferred table reserved for you." Jon, the maître d', pulled my focus back. He was gesturing toward the rear of the restaurant with a weathered hand and Tank was eyeing me with concern.

"Thank you," I murmured and we followed him across the room.

Our client arrived shortly after we were seated and though he was sharp and articulate and should have had my undivided attention, I couldn't keep my eyes from drifting to the table on the other side of the restaurant. When Mr. J. Crew leaned over his chicken cacciatore and pressed his lips to Stephanie's, I had to excuse myself from the room to keep from storming over there and knocking out a couple of his perfect teeth.

I apologized to the client, told Tank I had a family emergency and instructed him to conclude the meeting without me. He was going to give me shit for it later but I didn't care.

I left Rossini's and even knowing I should go home, I headed in the opposite direction. It was going to be awkward if she brought her date inside with her, but again, I didn't care. I should have done this a long time ago.

She arrived thirty minutes later and I listened intently, hoping she'd be alone. Only one set of steps sounded in the hallway and I let out the breath I'd been holding. The bedside lamp clicked on and there she was, sexy as hell and leaning in the door jamb to her room.

"This is bold, even for you."

"How was your date?" I countered and crossed my ankles while I adjusted the pillow supporting my back against her headboard.

"I knew you were there!" She exclaimed and rubbed at the nape of her neck where the first indicator I was close by signaled her. Neither of us could ever explain that shared anomaly. "Were you following me?"

I shook my head. "I had a dinner meeting at Rossini's."

"Mmm. So why are you in my bed and not at your meeting?"

"Because you're mine."

She slowly moved into the room. "When did you reach that conclusion?"

"The day we met."

A tiny smile tilted her lips. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Come here and I'll show you."