Just think if they’d actually had the wild and crazy sex she’d been planning on. She’d be dying right now.

Dying.

Clearly, one-night stands weren’t her thing. And, suddenly, it seemed imperative that he know that about her.

“I’ve never done something like this before.” She made herself look up from the shiny black granite she’d been gripping for dear life. Unclamping her fingers from the edge, she saw the damp imprint of her hand on the surface, a telltale sign of just how nervous she was feeling.

“It’s been a while for me, too."

Unexpected jealousy hit her at the vision of Marcus standing in this kitchen with another woman that he’d picked up for a one-night stand. She had no claim on him, no right to that tightening of her chest.

But she felt it anyway.

Especially since she could place a million-dollar bet on the fact that she was the only woman who had ever dozed off...before they’d even had their first kiss.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you last night.”

His lips finally moved up into a small smile. He’d been so serious until now that she was beyond surprised to see the corners of his mouth twitch in an upward direction. Those butterflies that had gathered in her belly at her first sight of him in the club, so big and strong-looking, started flying in every direction at his smile.

She still wanted to kiss him, of course, but suddenly, she wanted to see him smile, too. Wanted to see his chocolate-brown eyes look at her with laughter and know that she was responsible for it.

“You were clearly exhausted.” He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his gaze was warm. Giving. He handed her a cup of coffee. “I didn’t mind being your pillow for the night.”

That same sweet feeling that had come over her when she’d learned what a good son and brother he was stole through her again. Nicola was sure any other guy would have been angry with her right now, would have been expecting her to drop to her knees, unzip his pants, and make up for what she hadn’t given him last night. But Marcus seemed more concerned about how she was feeling than he was with being left high and dry.

If he’d been coming at her aggressively demanding a do-over, she would have kicked him straight to the curb and been out of there so fast his head would spin. Instead, she was trying to find her footing in this strange new world where she’d finally met someone who didn’t seem to want anything from her at all.

Not her fame, which he clearly didn’t know about, and not even her body, which she’d outright offered to him less than a dozen hours ago...verbally, at least.

“You were a really great pillow.”

This time, the smile he gave her had her smiling back. She wasn’t a big believer in things she couldn’t see, taste, hear or touch, but in that moment she could have sworn an invisible ribbon reached out between them and wrapped itself around them both.

No longer quite as ready to run, she sat on one of the bar stools. “Please, sit with me."

Last night she hadn’t wanted to know anything about him beyond whether or not he could make her scream with pleasure. But since they hadn’t even gotten near first base due to her strangely narcoleptic behavior, she decided to give in to her urge to find out more about the mystery man who’d held her hand while she slept soundly for the first time in ages.

Marcus hesitated for several seconds, and just when she thought he was going to refuse her invitation, he picked up his cup and walked toward her.

“So, I take it you don’t live in San Francisco, either?”

He shook his head. “Napa Valley.”

“I’ve driven through it a couple of times and the area is really beautiful.” She left off the fact that she’d been there to play a couple of private gigs for some high-profile Napa residents. She sipped at her coffee again. “But I’m not much of a wine drinker.” She shrugged. “I never know what to order with what."

If she were being straight about who she was and what she did, she would have told him that even a light buzz made it hard for her to keep hold of her control. And with so many people surrounding her all the time asking her questions, coming at her with contracts and offers, she had to work double time to remain fully present and lucid. Which was why she rarely drank anything at all. Only with Kenny had she made that mistake. And how she’d paid for it.

“Are you in the wine business?"

He nodded, then said, “You don’t live here, either, do you?”

She hadn’t missed the fact that while he’d answered her question, he’d quickly changed the subject afterward.

It was a reminder that this was just small talk between two strangers who were never going to see each other again. She shouldn’t be upset that he didn’t want to tell her where he worked. He was probably afraid she’d hunt him down and become a big nuisance. No doubt plenty of girls had tried to latch onto him over the years.

Besides, she wasn’t exactly gung-ho about sharing a bunch of details about her life with him, was she?

Nearly as vague as he’d been, she said, “I’m from a teeny, tiny little town in upstate New York, but I’ve always loved the west coast.”

There. That was perfectly impersonal. They were both behaving like two rational adults who had almost made the mistake of having a one-night stand, but had somehow slipped out of the night unscathed.

She should be happy.

But she wasn’t.

Because for a few wonderful minutes the previous night, she’d reveled in irrational, unfettered desire and anticipation.