“We’re permitted to bring a guest,” Darcy said. “We could bring a guest every week if we wanted to. I’d be happy to make you mine.” Oliver arched an eyebrow. Darcy’s face flushed pink. “My … guest. That is.” Oliver grinned. How on earth was it possible that this was the same Darcy as last night? Or even this morning? “I’d be honored.” Darcy’s smile was small and sweet—and Oliver found he couldn’t look away. For some reason, he didn’t want to.
