“And it’s a good one. Have you given any more thought to the rooms? How to decorate them?”

Truthfully, not much because she’d spent most of her time thinking about him. “You said something about making it a sensualist’s dream yesterday and that sparked some ideas. I’ve been thinking about themed rooms, possibly picking a piece of art for each room and building the theme around it.”

And now that she was thinking about it, she couldn’t stop. “Actually, let’s go downstairs so I can show you a few ideas.”

Jared watched Belle’s gaze go unfocused as she stared at a spot just above his right shoulder.

He recognized that look. Tyler got that look when he had an idea he was chewing over. Usually a good idea.

Belle had completely dismissed him, her thoughts turned inward, as she rose from the table and headed for the stairs to the first floor. He followed along, curious to see what she wanted to show him. And he was completely enjoying the sway of her hips encased in tight jeans and the brush of her flame-colored hair against her purple sweater.

Though she wasn’t wearing anything overtly sexy, the jeans and sweater hugged every luscious curve and made him lust for what he couldn’t see.

In the shop, she flipped a switch and the lights in her erotic gallery cut through the dark. His cock gave a twitch as he remembered what they’d done the last time they were in there.

He followed more slowly and when he reached the gallery, she stood with her hands on her hips in front of a display case of shunga prints from the 1700s.

With a glance over her shoulder at him, she nodded toward the case. “How decadent do you want to go?”

He contained a snort of laughter. That was not a question she should be asking him because decadent was a word he took seriously. It was right up there with pleasure.

If he told her exactly how decadent he wanted to go with some of the rooms, he was worried he might scare her off.

With a deliberate gait, he walked to the chaise they’d christened yesterday and sat down, letting his legs stretch out in front of him as he propped himself on his arms.

Belle’s gaze narrowed but he heard the slight catch in her breath when he smiled up at her. “How decadent can you make it without crossing the line into tasteless?”

“The shungas. Recreate some of the rooms depicted in the shungas from the wall coverings to the floorings. The colors are beautiful and the mood is right. I’m not saying we use the art itself in the rooms—”

“Why not use the art?” Jared started to see exactly where she was going with her idea and he loved it. “The more tasteful ones, yes. But we could go all-out debauchery with a few of the rooms. And why stop with the shungas?”

He looked at the two O’Malley pieces from the Passion series. He wanted those paintings for his own collection but unlike everything else in the store, they didn’t have a price tag. He wanted to ask about them but didn’t want to ruin the mood. He’d ask later.

So he pointed to the prints of the Carracci series, The Loves of the Gods. “Why not theme each room to a different painting?”

Belle turned to him, a small smile lighting her face. “I had thought of that, but I didn’t know if you’d go for it. I mean, this is supposed to be a spa, right? Not a high-end brothel?”

He laughed. “No, not a brothel. Most of the rooms will be merely opulent. But I love your idea too much not to use it. And believe me, the crowd I’m targeting won’t bat an eyelash at the décor.”

“So you’re going for the same crowd that you invite to the Salon?”

He shook his head. “The Salon is one of a kind and I only invite select people. I’m not planning to branch out to the spa.”

Belle turned to face him now, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her head to the side. “How did you come up with the idea for the Salon?”

He opened his mouth to give his answer. But he thought saying “Because I could” seemed like a cop-out. Spending time with Belle was becoming more and more hazardous to the façade he liked to cultivate with his friends and acquaintances.

And he’d have to examine that a little more closely. Later.

“The Salon actually had its beginnings my freshman year at college. A few friends with similar tastes, a few bottles of whiskey, and late-night bitching about a mandatory class in world cultures. The teacher was a bastard who delighted in tormenting freshmen. We decided to dig for dirt on the guy and embarrass the hell out of him. We figured there had to be something we could use against him.”

“Sounds like the plot of a John Hughes movie.”

He laughed, a completely natural sound he didn’t hear that often. “Anyway, I hit pay dirt but it wasn’t what we expected. Turns out old Professor Kohn had a lucrative side business as a writer and researcher for an underground Victorian erotica society.”

Belle came closer until finally she eased onto the cushion next to him. Then she turned sideways until her back rested against the rolled armrest. Drawing her legs up, she rested her chin on her knee.

“How did you find out? And what is that exactly?”

“I had a friend hack his private email accounts. We found his links to this society, a private group like the Masons, but their organization met to discuss and reenact scenes from Victorian erotica.”

Her mouth parted in shock before she let out a little laugh. “You hacked your professor’s email and found out he was part of a sex club?”

“Not a sex club. Yes, they paid dues but they only went toward maintaining their meeting rooms. Actually, it ran a lot like the Salon. You had to be sponsored by at least three current members to get an invitation to be interviewed to join. Once you were in, you signed a confidentiality agreement. They had a required reading list and then they re-created scenes from books like Fanny Hill and The Pearl.”

Belle shook her head. “That actually sounds really fascinating. Did you expose him?”

“Not me, no. It came out eventually, I think someone actually broke the confidentiality clause and got sued but I never told anyone. I was fascinated. I started to read all the Victorian erotica I could get my hands on. I already had a healthy interest in sex, but this was like nothing I’d ever seen. Porn is so…plebian.”

She let out a hearty laugh, letting her head drop back and her hair spill down. She had such an erotic laugh, husky and deep and completely natural. “Jared, only you would use a word like plebian in relationship to sex.”

“But you know what I mean, don’t you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. Reading Victorian erotica is like listening to someone with an English accent talk dirty to you for hours on end. Extremely arousing.”

He was thinking the exact same thing about her. And her voice made his blood boil. “So are—”

His phone vibrated on his hip, intruding on the moment. He’d set it so that only his brother’s calls would come through and if his brother was calling, it only meant two things.

“Jared?”

He pulled the phone off his hip and looked at the number just to make sure.

“Damn, I’m sorry. I have to take this, Belle. It’s Tyler.”

He expected to have to soothe her. Most women he knew would pout if he interrupted their flirtation to take a call.

Belle smiled and rose. “No problem. I’ll be in the main shop.”

No snark, no snit.

He answered the phone, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re killing me. What’s so im—”

“You need to get home. Now.” Tyler’s tired sigh echoed through the phone line, making a cold shiver run though Jared’s body. “Mom’s having an episode and we can’t get her calmed down. She keeps asking for you and I’m afraid we’re going to have to hospitalize her if we can’t get her to take the meds. Damn it, Jed, you know how she gets when she’s like this.”

Yeah, he knew. And he knew why she usually got like this. “What’d the bastard do this time?”

Tyler sighed again, his frustration coming through loud and clear. “Jed, she needs you.”

And that was really all that mattered, wasn’t it? No matter what he wanted. “I’ll be there in an hour. Can she hold it together until then?”

“If I tell her you’re coming, I think so, yeah.”

“I’m leaving now.”

He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back on his hip. Emotion lay heavy in his gut. Fear and concern for his mom.

Rage…

His goddamn father. Fury began to overtake the fear and concern. Anger at whatever it was he’d done to make his mom have an attack bad enough for Tyler to have to call him home.

It didn’t happen often and she hadn’t had an episode like this for years.

He had to leave. Right now. Just get in his car and go.

He couldn’t stop to think about Belle. Not now. He’d be back tomorrow. It wasn’t like they were married. Or even that they had an emotional attachment. Sure, the sex was great. But that’s all it was.

Just sex.

He walked out into the main shop, where Belle sat on the counter, watching him approach.

“Jared, are you okay?”

He forced a smile. “I’m fine. But I need to head back to Philly. Something’s come up at the hotel and Tyler needs me.”

He stopped in front of her, knowing his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Not caring if she noticed.

Her eyes narrowed as her head tilted to the side.

He stepped in close and kissed her with a finesse he’d never used on her. A slickness that always served him well with women. Most couldn’t tell it was all technique and no emotion.

He stepped back and knew Belle had noticed.