Category Duets 001:

Impetuous Heart/Reluctant Heart

Cynthia Lawrence

ISBN 1 891020 27 7

Rocket eBook ISBN 1-58608-040-7

© copyright by Cynthia DiSciullo, Nov. 1997

cover art by Jenny Dixon

New Concepts Publishing

4729 Humphreys Rd.

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

OTHER NCP TITLES BY CYNTHIA LAWRENCE

(WRITING AS ANGELICA HART)

The Gathering

IMPETUOUS HEART

Cynthia Lawrence

Dedicated to -

angels of light

the daughter of my heart

the love and soul mate of my life

In appreciation of-

Stella and Lawrence Plesh

In memory of-

Genevieve DiSciullo

CHAPTER ONE

From a table at the far end of the vegetarian restaurant, Caleb McBride scanned several faces. No one even remotely resembled the woman in the photo that the private detective had provided. Not that the picture was all that detailed. All he could make out was the color of Katrina Cante’s hair and an enormous pair of tinted lenses. He should have demanded a better photo. Only, Caleb wasn’t supposed to be here. He had promised both his family and his lawyer that he would let the detective handle the situation. Caleb, though, just couldn’t allow a stranger to negotiate something this important. Before he could reevaluate his actions, Caleb found himself in Katrina’s restaurant ready to plead, bargain, and possibly sell his soul for the sake of his sister.

With that in mind, he had asked a passing waitress if he could see the proprietor. She immediately made her way to a podium partially hidden by a potted Fern. Katrina Cante stepped into view. Caleb recognized the hair and glasses, but the photo didn’t prepare him for her beauty. Neither did the detective for that matter. Then again, she did nothing to accentuate her attributes. At first glance Katrina appeared attractive, yet unassuming. Caleb’s intense scrutiny, though, took him past the outer trappings. At about five feet seven or so, she had a graceful walk and regal stance. There wasn’t an ounce of superfluous weight on Katrina, but she wasn’t flat and bony like the constant dieter. She was soft, sculptured, and womanly with a faint golden cast to her complexion that hinted at a Mediterranean heritage. Under a gray, oversized jacket, a white button-down blouse caressed very full breasts. A plain black belt circled a tiny waist while tailored pants flared slightly at her hips before tapering over slender legs.

Strands of ebony hair escaped the loose knot at the base of her neck while a fringe of feathery bangs fell into eyes hidden by the huge tinted glasses. He couldn’t see the color of her eyes, nor could he tell if her bone-structure was as provocative as the rest of her face suggested. He felt his hormones surge the instant he had laid eyes on her, but her sudden smile, aimed at the waitress, made his senses fall apart.

Caleb thought he was immune to beautiful women. They had enough men doing cartwheels for their pleasure. According to the detective’s report, however, this woman was the exception to the rule. She supposedly had both humility and kindness with a good measure of courage thrown in. Of course, the detective’s report could be faulty and after a disastrous marriage, Caleb didn’t trust easily.

This time he didn’t have a choice. He had to trust Katrina. She was one of the few people in the country experienced enough to help him rescue his sister, Sarah, from an insidious cult, and skilled enough to deprogram her. More than one source confirmed that Katrina never failed. The only thing no one seemed to know was why she suddenly gave up her crusade against cults to become a restaurant entrepreneur. In the end, her reasons didn’t concern him. No matter what it took, he would persuade Katrina Cante to help him. His sister’s life depended on it.

* * *

Katrina smiled at Fran, one of the three waitresses who had appeared for the dinner hour. “Problem?”

“He wants to see you.”

Placing the reservation book on the podium, Katrina stepped away. “Who?”

Sighing as if she were fifteen, instead of thirty-five, Fran pointed to a nearby table.

Katrina understood the sigh. Although the man wasn’t the urban, sophisticated handsome usually found in Philadelphia’s Society Hill, he was still devastatingly attractive in a very hard, very bold sort of way. His eyes, smoldering beneath masculine brows, were the darkest blue she had ever encountered. His lips had an arrogant twist, while his nose looked as if it had been chiseled by an old-world sculptor. A bronze, tough complexion betrayed years spent outdoors. His chestnut-brown hair was a bit long and unruly, yet it fit perfectly with his earthy appearance. Muscular arms flowed into broad shoulders that strained against a chamois cloth shirt. Denim clad legs that seemingly went on forever, ended in leather hiking boots. She doubted this man ever saw the inside of an office. At the same time, he wasn’t a stranger to hard work. It showed in the nicks and abrasions on his powerful hands, in the strength imbued in his gaze. No, he wasn’t the type Katrina was used to seeing in her restaurant. He was the type who could turn a woman inside out.

Katrina’s pulse quickened in compliance with her observation. She ignored her pulse as well as a surge of annoyance. She just didn’t need a disgruntled customer right now. James Calloway, a potential investor, was due to arrive within the hour. Taking on a partner wasn’t an ideal plan, and it had taken Katrina months to convince herself that a partnership didn’t equate to being dependent, something that Katrina refused to allow. Still, she wasn’t the best financial planner. Staff salaries were too high, she donated quite a bit to local charities, and she had borrowed against the mortgage to loan money to people who had never paid her back. To make matters worse, the heating system needed an overall and the roof was deteriorating. She would have considered selling the restaurant and starting over with something simpler, more specialized except that she feared a new owner would fire her staff. After weighing every alternative, Katrina concluded that Calloway’s interest in The Gazebo was an answer to a prayer.

“Did he say what he wanted?” she asked the waitress.

Fran shook her head. “He barely looked at the menu, and he asked for you by name.”

A frown marred the perfection of her brow as she studied the man further. He didn’t look familiar. Just then, their gazes locked. His eyes were compelling, insistent, demanding. She found herself walking to his table without being aware she had moved.

“May I help you?”

He stood at her approach. “Is there someplace private where we can talk?”

There was something about his tone that reminded her of a time when people always talked in hushed whispers and anxious voices. She didn’t want to go back to that time. His persistent gaze, though, imprisoned her with shocking thoroughness.

“I’d prefer to stay right here.”

Nodding, he indicated the seat across from him. “Would you please join me for a few minutes?”

Something inside Katrina told her to turn away. She sensed the reason for this man’s appearance, and she didn’t want anything to do with him. Still, as if mesmerized, Katrina sat, folded her hands primly on the table, and watched him settle himself into the chair.

He stared at her for a moment longer as if trying to dissect her with his gaze. She knew he wouldn’t succeed. Katrina had taken pains to present a very unassuming appearance. Not that she considered herself beautiful, but her figure often attracted the wrong type of attention.

His brow knitted in a frown as if frustrated that his scrutiny didn’t produce any answers. “Could I interest you in a drink?”

“This better not be a pick-up, Mister...”

“Caleb, Caleb McBride. It’s not a pick-up. I just don’t know where to start.”

His name initiated a flicker of familiarity. It vanished as the acute pain haunting his blue depths touched her. “I think you need a drink, Mister McBride.”

With a nod, he looked up at Fran who had been hovering uncertainly for the last few minutes. “Got any Killians?”

“Sure do. How about you, Katrina?”

“Hot tea, apple spice.”

“Coming right up,” Fran announced, walking away.

“Nice place you got here,” he said, making her wonder how he knew she was the proprietor.

“Thank you,” she returned as she tried not to stare. God, the man was intoxicating. She kept noticing little things like the way his nostrils flared with each breath, the way his dark blue eyes held flecks of a lighter hue, the way golden chest hair peeked from under his unbuttoned collar. She felt somewhat guilty for her innocent inspection despite knowing it wouldn’t lead anywhere. Katrina wasn’t about to let herself fall prey to hypnotic eyes and a pair of tight fitting jeans.

“Vegetarian, isn’t it?”

This time, she simply nodded as she followed his gaze around the room. In accordance with its name, the room was an over sized gazebo. Customers had to climb several steps and pass through an arched gate to enter the dining area. Potted begonias and caladiums dangled from the overhang, while baskets of kalanchoe dominated the center of wicker tables. Huge tropical plants and ferns were positioned at various sites along the perimeter of the gazebo. The overall appearance was that of a garden on a cool, spring evening. Even the lighting had a soft, golden glow as if the sun had just set. Considering it was the middle of January, the total effect was warm and inviting.

In opposition, a chill spread through Katrina’s entire system. With each passing second, she was more certain Caleb McBride was here to ask the impossible of her.

“This is a yuppie neighborhood. A vegetarian restaurant does well,” she said.

“It’s not very crowded.”

“Give it fifteen minutes or so, Mister McBride.”

“Call me Caleb.”

The last thing she needed was to get personal with a man who wanted something from her. Yet with impulses she thought she had finally mastered, she repeated his name. “Caleb.”

He offered her a small, grateful grin. “Katrina’s beautiful, but very formal. Do you have a nickname?”

She hesitated. “Not for a long time.”

“What was it?”

“Kit.”

“Kit,” he repeated.

Somehow on his lips, it sounded like an endearment.

“It’s certainly not a derivative of Katrina. How did you come by it?”

Her expression didn’t change, but a sharp pain dragged at her heart. Katrina didn’t like being reminded of the past. “When I was little, my sister used to call me kid. Somehow it got turned into Kit. No one calls me that anymore.”

“Why?”

She didn’t want to explain that only her grandmother and sister had called her Kit. They were dead. She shrugged. “They just don’t.”

Silence ensued. Caleb toyed with his fork, making small ridges in the white tablecloth. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it.

She suddenly realized how hard it was for a man like Caleb to ask for help. She no longer had any doubt about his reason for being here, and knew the time for small talk had ended.

“What do you want of me, Caleb McBride?”

He took a breath and released it out slowly. “I have no right--” he began, then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, a new intensity entered his gaze. “I also don’t have a choice.”

He plucked several photographs out of the lambswool jacket flung over his chair. He placed one of them on the table. It was a glamour shot of a young woman. She had Caleb’s color hair, but lighter eyes. A mischievous smile tipped contoured lips while dimples enhanced her overall beauty. “My sister, Sarah,” he announced, “before she became a member of Reverend David Masters’ cult.”

Despite expecting something quite like this, she hadn’t been prepared to hear David Masters’ name. He was part of her past, a past she had managed to ignore. All color drained from Katrina’s face. Shivers raced down her spine. She gripped her hands so tightly, her fingers became bloodless.

He placed another picture on the table. “This is her now.”

The photo had been taken with a telescopic lens. Even though the picture was slightly blurred, it was obvious the woman’s face lacked animation. She smiled widely, but it was an empty smile -- as empty as her soul. As empty as Katrina had been after David Masters had used her. “I’m sorry,” she said.

He placed the final picture on the table. It was of a four or five year old boy that resembled Caleb, but had Sarah’s eyes. “So is her son.”

The trembling that had started in Katrina’s gut spread to her extremities. “Please, don’t tell me David has him as well.”

“No. I have custody of the boy. But he needs his mother. Sarah needs to come home. And I need your help. I heard you’re the best at rescuing cult members and deprogramming them.” He raked strong fingers through thick, wayward hair. “Lord knows I need the best. I’ve tried ministers, detectives, the police. I even tried going after her myself and ended up getting arrested. I’m totally lost and fresh out of ideas. In fact, I probably bungled things so badly that it would take a miracle to get her out.”

He reached across the table and covered Katrina’s hands with his own. “You’re my miracle, Kit. Please tell me you’ll help.”

A sudden heat burned through the cold ravaging her system. It had been a long time since a man had touched her. Even longer since she had felt something other than disgust. Only she didn’t want to feel anything at all, especially not with this man who asked too much of her. Still, how could she refuse to help. Of all the cult leaders, Masters was the worst. He had charisma that wouldn’t quit and angelic appeal that conned even the worse skeptic. Katrina should know, he had fooled her in ways that still made her cringe with humiliation. There would have been a time, Katrina would have helped Caleb without a morsel of indecision. Now, though, Katrina had a daughter to worry about. She just couldn’t chance drawing attention to herself or Jessy. Besides, even if she managed to get Sarah away from Masters, Katrina wasn’t sure she could deprogram the woman. Katrina had gone up against Masters only once and had failed horribly. She couldn’t chance that type of failure again. It wouldn’t be fair to Caleb or his sister. At the same time, shame and regret cut through her system. If only she could be as strong and confident as she once had been.

Katrina swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I haven’t done that type of work for years.”

He squeezed her hands. The heat intensified, making her shiver with feelings that were very inappropriate considering the circumstances.

“I’ll pay anything. I’ll do anything. Just name it.”

A touch like his would soon have her agreeing to do anything. In defense, she pulled away and tucked her hands under her thighs. “This isn’t about money. When I did this type of work, my fee wasn’t very high. I did it for little more than expenses. In fact, I really wish I could help. But I’m not the best person for the job. There are circumstances that--” She paused and stared at a point beyond Caleb. “I simply can’t. There are others who can help you. I can give you the name of--”

“Beer for Mister blue eyes,” Fran interrupted. “And tea for you, Katrina. Only you won’t be able to drink it.” Fran shrugged her shoulders apologetically. “There’s a small crisis in the kitchen.”

“Can’t Donna or Andre handle it?”

“They’re the ones who are causing it.”

Katrina stood with obvious reluctance. “I must take care of this. Have some dinner on the house, Caleb. We’ll talk later, okay?”

Standing, he kept his compelling gaze locked on her. “I appreciate your taking the time. I’ll wait all night if need be.”

She smiled softly. “Let’s hope I can rectify matters more quickly than that.”

* * *

In the kitchen everything appeared to be in order. Pots and pans hung from a central rack above a stainless steel island. Huge brick ovens flanked a central stove, while an industrial refrigerator resided next to an old-fashioned freezer. Thick, oak shelves were loaded with everything from tins of spices and flour to jars of tomatoes and jams. The mosaic floor was hard on the feet and just as difficult to keep clean, but the menagerie of color added warmth to the sterile environment. However, one look at her assistant chefs made Katrina realize nothing was in order. Donna and Andre were in the midst of a boisterous argument.

Her delicate face full of rage, Donna shoved Andre backward. Losing his balance, he fell against the trash barrel. Its contents spilled outward. His glasses landed several feet away.

“Good!” Donna shouted. “That’s what you deserve, you two-timing cheat. I saw how you flirted with the new waitress. Don’t you think I have eyes?”

“How many times do I have to tell you. I wasn’t flirting. And when the hell are you going to learn to control that damn temper?” Andre shouted back.

Katrina rolled her eyes upward. This wasn’t the first time the two had a volatile argument. Unfortunately, their entire relationship was volatile. She often wondered when they had stopped fighting long enough to fall in love, marry, and produce two children. At the same time, Katrina couldn’t help a surge of satisfaction. Five years ago, Donna could barely look anyone in the eye. It had taken Katrina twice the usual time to undo the brainwashing inflicted by the moonies. It was Andre’s love for Donna, though, that had finally brought her around. The man never left Donna’s side no matter how ugly the deprogramming sessions became. Katrina admired few people more than this couple. Only, at the moment, she felt like strangling them.

“Enough!” Katrina demanded. “How could you two start up tonight of all nights?”

Both started screaming accusations at the other. The dishwasher, Todd, shook his elderly head and started picking up the trash.

Katrina’s tone held remarkable control. “I don’t care what the argument was about. I don’t care whose fault it is. I do care that James Calloway is due to arrive at any moment. I do care that in about ten minutes the dining room will be full of hungry patrons and that you haven’t even starting filling orders for the present customers.”

What Katrina didn’t voice was her annoyance that she wouldn’t be able to deal with Caleb McBride until things were running smoothly again. Considering Donna wouldn’t stop crying, that could take awhile. Caleb didn’t deserve to be left hanging. At the same time, Katrina couldn’t handle much more of his presence. God, the man had her pulse doing double time. Still, Katrina didn’t have a choice. The restaurant paid the bills and kept her and her three year old daughter off the street. McBride would just have to wait.

Getting to his feet, Andre looked shamefaced. At six-feet, he towered over his petite wife. He had a lean face and clear, gray eyes. In opposition, Donna’s face was round and her eyes were dark. Blazing red hair was as wild as her temper.

“We’re sorry, Katrina,” Andre apologized as he arranged his glasses. “We shouldn’t have let this happen.”

“It wouldn’t have if you didn’t act like a tomcat on the make!” Donna accused.

With the look of someone who had been sucker punched, Andre reached for his coat. “I can’t take this any more. We’ll talk when you cool down.”

“Wait!” Katrina called, but Andre had already slammed the back door.

Donna covered her face with trembling hands and sobbed harder.

With a sigh, Katrina gathered her friend into her arms. “It’s okay. You two will work it out.”

“Why do I do this?” Donna managed between sobs.

Katrina pulled away and handed Donna a napkin from a nearby supply cabinet. “I don’t know, Donna. The man loves you. You have to start trusting him.”

“It’s so hard. Ever since-- I just get so paranoid.”

Donna didn’t say anything more, but Katrina understood. After experiencing the moonies’ betrayal, it was still hard for Donna to trust anyone completely. Despite years of marriage and two kids, the past imprisoned her. Katrina only hoped Andre had enough love to ride this through with his wife.

“Take a break,” Katrina said softly and handed her the key to her upstairs apartment. “Get yourself together and come down when you’re ready. Mrs. Anderson’s baby-sitting Jessy. I’m sure she won’t mind if you cry on her shoulder.”

“But--” Donna began, indicating the number of orders flashing across the computer screen.

Katrina offered her a small smile. “I’ll manage. We’re not that busy yet.”

“Thank you,” Donna whispered and slipped away.

Katrina crossed her arms over her chest. It was a defensive posture that developed during her teens when boys gawked at her full breasts. Unwittingly, the posture returned whenever a dilemma occurred. Tonight, her entire world was one big dilemma. “Todd, tell Fran she’ll have to play hostess until Andre and Donna get back. I’m going to be busy filling out orders.”

“Sure thing,” the elderly man said.

Tossing off her jacket, Katrina donned a full apron and called up orders on the computer screen. “Let’s just hope Calloway isn’t a prompt man.”

Although Katrina filled one order after another, she simply couldn’t keep up with the demand. If only Andre would get back. And just how much time did Donna need to pull herself together? It wouldn’t be so bad if the prep cook was on duty, but Monday nights usually weren’t this busy.

An instant later, Caleb strolled into the kitchen. “Is there a problem? Service is really slow on the floor.”

“I’m working as fast as I can,” she said as she chopped green onions for a fresh Manchurian sauce.

“Shouldn’t you have more help?”

“It’s a long story.” Without pausing in her task, she turned to look at him and caught her breath. She hadn’t realized he was so tall, so incredibly broad shouldered. And his eyes, dear God, those eyes were like magnets, dragging her away from common sense and reality.

“Tell me what to do, Kit. Since I’m hanging around anyway, I might as well be put to use.”

“That’s not necessary. I can--” She broke off as a burning pain severed her words. Somehow the knife had slipped and sliced the length of her left palm. She immediately grabbed a towel, wrapped her hand and tossed the knife into soapy water. “I hate to be rude, but as you can see, I’m rather busy.”

“You can’t work like that.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You might need stitches.”

“If I do, I’ll get them later.”

With just a few steps, he was at her side. Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand, discarded the towel and examined the wound. “It doesn’t look too deep, but we best wash it out and bandage it properly.”

His touch triggered instantaneous heat. It flowed through her body like liquid fire and for an instant, she couldn’t breathe.

Caleb felt the same rush of heat. It centered somewhere in his chest, then swiftly traveled downward. Being a healthy male, he was accustomed to strong responses. But he had never experienced anything this intense. What was it about her that got to him? Lord, he couldn’t even see the color of her eyes. Yet he found himself wanting to drown in them and the emotions she evoked so easily. Not the best sensation considering the reason he was here.

Katrina’s sudden intake of breath brought them both back to reality. She tried to pull away. “I don’t have time--”

Keeping his grip firm, he replaced the makeshift bandage. “Make time. Where’s the first-aid kit and a bathroom?”

Having just returned, Donna pointed at a doorway.

“And you are?” he asked.

“Donna Duval, please to meet you...”

“Caleb McBride, ma’am, at your service.”

A huge grin broke out over Donna’s face. “Well, how do you do Caleb?”

“Like I got a wild cat by the tail.” He stole a quick glance at Katrina before checking out Donna’s outfit, white apron, dark slacks, and a chef’s hat. “I assume that thing on your head isn’t just for show?”

“Of course not.”

“Then take over for Kit. And--”

“Kit who?” Donna asked, tilting her head quizzically.

“Katrina,” he amended. “I’ll be back in a minute to check on things.”

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Katrina protested, unable to break free of his iron grip.

“Helping.”

“I don’t need or want your help,” she insisted, still trying to rip her hand free. She simply couldn’t handle what his touch was doing to her libido. Even more, though, Katrina didn’t like how he took over. This was her restaurant, dammit!

“Listen, lady, I’m going to help you whether you want me to or not. Now stop fighting me.”

His aggressiveness combined with relentless waves of sensual heat shattered Katrina’s control. With as much force as she could muster, she tried to kick his shin, missed and hit a cabinet. Considering she wore canvas sneakers, a sharp pain ripped through her toes. She caught her breath and bit her bottom lip.

He winced in sympathy. “Not a good move. Guess I’ll have to carry you.”

He lifted her easily. She would have protested, but she knew it would be as ineffectual as her kick had been. Besides, his embrace was strong and comforting. His clean, masculine scent engulfed her, making Katrina want to wrap her arms around his neck and burrow against the shelter of his muscular chest. Instead, she remained very stiff until he set her down on the bathroom floor.

“First aid kit?”

“You can’t do this.”

“Yeah, I can. I took a first aid class.”

“No, I mean, take over. You don’t have any right.”

“This has nothing to do with rights. It has to do with one human being helping another. It’s not a big deal and I’m not asking for anything in return, okay?”

The sincerity of his words touched something inside Katrina, something that she thought could no longer be touched. Hardening herself to the sensation, she clung to her independence as if it were a life preserver, then she pulled out the first aid kit from under the sink and fumbled with the lock. “Okay, fine, I’ll take care of the cut. Now, will you please wait for me at your table. Or better yet, come back--”

Caleb seized her shoulders and forced her down onto a wicker stool. “Enough! If you don’t let me do this, Kit, I swear I’ll walk into that restaurant and yell fire. Got it!”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

It took every ounce of Katrina’s will to back down, but she didn’t think the man was bluffing. It appeared he had a stubborn streak as tough and intractable as her own. With a frown cemented to her face, she held out her hand.

“Thank you.” he said with such unexpected humility Katrina found her defenses dissolving.

With astonishing gentleness for a man his size, he cleaned and dressed her cut. Katrina was grateful for his sudden silence because she couldn’t bring herself to utter a word. His touch and proximity made it difficult to concentrate on anything but how he affected her senses. When he cupped her hand to apply ointment, splinters of sensation shot up her arm and flowed through her body. When he leaned over to wrap the bandage, she caught a whiff of a woodsy shampoo and cold air. It was as intoxicating as the dark-gold highlights flickering in his hair. She couldn’t help wondering what his hair would feel like under her exploring fingers. Were his muscular shoulders as hard and strong as they looked? Realizing the direction of her wayward thoughts, she studied a crack in the wall. Still, her heart thudded against her chest and she couldn’t quite get the hang of breathing evenly.

Caleb was having just as much difficulty breathing. It had been way too long since he had touched a woman. And this simple act of bandaging the cut had produced a tightening in his groin that was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. It didn’t help that every time he lifted his gaze, he saw the fullness of her breasts pressed against the taut apron. With each rise and fall of her chest, Caleb felt his self-control slipping away. Lord, he wanted to hold her so badly he trembled. With sheer effort of will, he pulled away.

“There,” he said, “all done.”

“Thank you,” she returned. “You’ve been very kind.”

He searched her face, wanting to see beyond the glasses. Something wasn’t right. He was man enough to know she was responding to him as intensely as he was responding to her. Yet, he sensed barriers.

“You’re not used to anyone helping you, are you?” he said, wanting to ask so much more, but not knowing how to string the words together.

“In my experience people only help you when they want something in return.”

“Then you haven’t met very many decent people.”

“Some, but I prefer to manage on my own. Independence builds survival instincts.”

He traced her jaw line with the tip of one finger. “Awful cynical for one so young.”

As if his touch had singed her, she jerked her head away. “I’m turning thirty soon. That’s not young.”

“Younger than me by a few years, and I pride myself in believing there is some good left in humanity.”

“You’re obviously not from the city.”

“Thank the good Lord. I don’t care for cities. Back home, a person never lacks a helping hand or fails to give one. The city can be awful lonely even if you’re married or have a companion.”

He waited for her to tell him about a special someone. Yet, he was grateful when she didn’t. The thought of her being committed twisted his gut. Never had he wanted a woman to be more available than now. His sentiments were ridiculous. They barely knew each other. Caleb, though, couldn’t help himself. Perhaps it was because he had gone too long without a woman. Or maybe he was just desperate to meet the right woman. Still, until Sarah was reunited with her son, Caleb didn’t have the prerogative to pursue a relationship, especially not with a woman that he needed in a professional capacity.

“I have to get back,” she said.

Without another word, she moved past him and into the kitchen. Once there, he again offered his help. Andre hadn’t returned, the orders were still backing up, and her hand was throbbing. Everything she did would be slow and awkward. Stiffening her spine, she took a breath, and began preparing the next order that flipped up on the computer screen. “No thank you, we can manage.”

Shaking his head, Caleb started to walk away, stopped, and turned back. “Donna, could you use a little help around here?”

With a quick smile, Donna tossed him an apron. “Sure could.”

“Wait just a minute,” Katrina began, “this is my--”

“Oh shut up!” Donna tossed out. “He’s helping me, not you, okay?”

It wasn’t okay, but Katrina didn’t have the time or strength to fight both of them. “Do you know your way around a kitchen at all?” she asked.

He offered her a grin that made Katrina catch her breath. “You’d be surprised at how much I know.”

Katrina thought Caleb’s boast was camouflage for inability. She was wrong. His efficiency amazed her almost as much as his skill. He chopped and pared like an expert. He even managed crepes with amazing dexterity and copied the way she decorated a plate.

“I’m impressed,” she said, after the last customer left, the kitchen had been scrubbed and the staff had filed out. “You must have worked in a kitchen before.”

“I’m the oldest of five. When my mother died in childbirth with Sarah, Dad left me in charge of feeding the crew. I learned my way around the kitchen back then, and I’ve kept my hand in ever since.”

“I’m glad you did.” She dipped her head and studied the pattern on the floor. “I didn’t mean to appear ungrateful, but I’m--”

“Not used to accepting help,” he finished for her. “You know, Kit, it’s admirable to be independent, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to accept a willing hand. People like to feel needed.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” She lifted her head and forced herself to verbalize her feelings. “Thank you, Caleb. I don’t think I would have managed very well without your help tonight.” She briefly explained about Andre and Donna’s argument. “I’m just lucky James Calloway didn’t show up. I’m thinking of taking him on as a partner.”

Caleb untied his apron, folded it neatly and placed it on the stainless steel counter. “Financial problems?”

Katrina sighed. “Mega financial problems.”

Not one to let any opportunity pass, Caleb jumped on the obvious. “How much do you need?”

“Too much.”

“Tell me.”

Knowing what the man was leading up to, Katrina padded the amount just to discourage him. Caleb didn’t even blink. “Help me get Sarah out of that cult, and it’s yours.”

It wasn’t the first time someone promised her a fortune in return for help. Few of her clients had the money to back up their offers. Some weren’t even able to cover Katrina’s expenses. It never stopped her from handling a case. There was a time, she never turned anyone away. “I told you before, this isn’t about money.”

Caleb McBride’s patience ran dry. “Then what the hell is it about? Why can’t you help me, dammit?!”

Folding her arms across her chest, Katrina stood very straight and very still. She didn’t owe him any explanation. Yet, she owed him something, he had stood between her and disaster tonight. Besides, he wasn’t about to let it go, and Katrina couldn’t allow that. For the sake of her little girl and her own sanity, she had to make sure the mesmerizing Caleb McBride left her world as quickly and suddenly as he had entered it. “It’s about my daughter, Caleb. I can’t help you because David Masters is her father.”

CHAPTER TWO

Caleb couldn’t have been more shocked if she had slapped him. “Masters is... was your husband?”

“No. I’m not married. I’ve never been married. It was only one night. A very unpleasant night. And that’s all you need know about the matter.”

Unpleasant? That single word along with her tight, impenetrable stance told Caleb much more than she was willing to admit. The bastard had hurt her. Caleb never wanted to break a man more.

“Does he know about his daughter?”

“No. Considering who he is, what he does, how could I tell him? I don’t have the finances to fight him in a custody battle, and, to be honest, I wouldn’t put it past him to simply kidnap Jessy if he didn’t win her legally. Even if your sister was in another cult besides Masters’, I couldn’t help. I’m not as good as you think. I could end up making the situation worse.”

Caleb knew better. Still, the woman had good reason to turn him down. He’d be a bastard to force the issue. For his sister’s sake, though, he couldn’t back down. Hell, she was more like a daughter than a sister. Caleb had been sixteen when his mother had died giving birth to Sarah. He had bottle fed the baby, changed her diapers, walked the floors with her. He had done the same for Sarah’s son. Having lost her fiancee before the baby was born, Sarah had been withdrawn and grief-ridden. Just when she had started to come around, that damnable cult got its clutches in her. After so many failed attempts to get her back, he knew if he failed again, the cult would bury her so deep he’d never be able to uncover her whereabouts. Caleb had one more shot at this, and he didn’t intend to waste it. Regardless of Katrina’s connection to Masters, he needed her.

“I understand, Kit, but--”

Before he could finish, a man pushed through the rear door. “I’m so sorry, Katrina. I had a meeting that ran over. However, if it’s not too late, we could--” He paused, gave Caleb a once over and quirked a brow. “Am I interrupting something?”

Katrina couldn’t meet Caleb’s fixed gaze. “Just give me a minute, Mister Calloway.”

“James, please. After all, we’ll soon be partners.”

Caleb returned Calloway’s appraisal and didn’t like what he saw. He had chiseled cheeks that looked as artificial as his styled hair and trimmed mustache. His mannerisms were precise and phony while his gaze had that calculated sincere look that usually belonged to a used car salesman. Caleb realized Katrina didn’t notice any of this. She might be intelligent and gorgeous, but he also sensed a certain naiveté; the type who’d notice the best in someone before the worst.

She went to the desk at the far end of the room, searched through several index cards, then scribbled something down on a blank one. Walking back to Caleb, she handed him the card. “Here are the names and phone numbers of three people who can help you. I’m not sure which one will be available. If the fee is too high, tell them you’re a personal friend of mine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure my sitter can stay a little longer with Jessy.”

With that, she offered him her hand. “Good luck, Caleb. And, again, thank you for all your help tonight.”

Caleb engulfed her graceful fingers in both his hands and looked directly into her eyes. “You can’t dismiss me that easily, Kit. You’re the best at what you do, I don’t intend to settle for anyone else.”

She pulled away. “Don’t you get it? I’m not the best. I never was. If you want to rescue your sister, contact someone who can do the job right. Now, will you please leave?”

Caleb knew this wasn’t the time to argue. It was getting late, and she still had a business meeting. Only, he didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone with James Calloway. There was something about the man that didn’t sit right with Caleb. Problem was it didn’t matter what he felt. He didn’t have any rights where Katrina Cante was concerned.

“Good night, Kit.”

She muttered a good-bye, then turned away. Was that regret he heard in her voice? Why did he get the impression that she wanted him to stay despite her protest to the contrary?

Watching her hit a button on an intercom, Caleb backed out of the swinging doors. He found his coat, tugged it on, then stared at the front door for a long minute. He couldn’t leave. He simply couldn’t stop thinking about James Calloway’s predatory look. A man like that could devour someone as credulous as Katrina.

Just what the hell made him think she was credulous? Katrina was a mother and entrepreneur who had managed to get through nearly thirty years of life without the likes of Caleb coming to her rescue. For God’s sake, how did he know she would even need to be rescued? He had never in his entire life met a more self-contained, independent, tenacious woman in his life. If anyone could handle a bad situation, it would be Katrina. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time Caleb misread a situation. You’d think he would have learned his lesson by now. His inability to mind his own business inevitably got him into trouble. He wouldn’t have ended up in a loveless marriage if he hadn’t played knight-in-shining armor to an immigrant who had more beauty than integrity. He had married for love; she had married to avoid deportation. The marriage was hell; the divorce was brutal, and the settlement nearly led to financial ruin.

Then there was Sarah. If he had sought professional help to begin with rather than going it alone, Sarah wouldn’t still be in the cult. It was past time he learned how to step back and let someone else control the situation.

Caleb got as far as the sidewalk before turning back. “Ah hell,” he whispered as he entered the restaurant and positioned himself just outside the kitchen door. Despite his past mistakes and every logical argument, he just couldn’t leave Katrina alone with that creep. If everything went well, he’d slip away, and she’d never know he had stayed. If something went wrong, he would at least be on hand.

“The sitter can stay for another hour.” Caleb heard Katrina inform James. “However, if you prefer to do this tomorrow morning, I’d understand.”

James Calloway’s voice brimmed with jealousy. “Who was that man? What did he want?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

Caleb grinned at the steel in her tone even as Calloway appeared to ignore her sharp retort. “As long as this isn’t too late for you, it’s good for me. I do some of my best work at night.”

The leer in Calloway’s tone made Caleb clench his fists. The man wasn’t talking about business deals. Did Katrina know that?

Katrina laughed softly. “When you spend a good part of the day chasing after a three year old and the rest of the time running a restaurant, the only thing I do well at night is sleep.”

The sound of stools being mounted reached Caleb, then he heard the snap of a briefcase opening. “Would you like to go over the contract?”

“Contract?” Katrina sounded puzzled. “Isn’t that presumptuous. I thought this was just a visit to check out the restaurant and go over the profit and loss statements.”

“I’ve been a customer of yours for over a year. The food’s fantastic. The place is in a good location; you’re a great chef and a decent manager. What more could I want?”

“I’m a better chef than a manager. I’d simply rather be behind a stove than a computer,” Katrina explained, then verbalized the restaurant’s various problems.

Running a hand over the back of his neck, Caleb almost groaned aloud. Where was the woman’s negotiating skills? Didn’t she know that to entice a partner, she should list the restaurant’s attributes and downplay its troubles? And where the hell was her legal representation?

“Doesn’t matter,” James returned. “I intend to cover your debts and finance the repairs. I also have a few ideas that might increase revenue. Once I’m on board, I’ll take care of business while you concentrate on being the sensational chef that you are.”

“Sounds great, but I would prefer to have a lawyer check out the contract first. Plus, I really need some time to think things over. I don’t know if I have the temperament for a partnership. Plus, the contract would have to be modified so that I can maintain controlling interest.”

“Good move,” Caleb whispered.

“That’s fine with me, but there is one little thing we have to settle before we go any further.”

“Name it.”

“I’d like the key to your apartment.”

Several seconds of silence passed. “Pardon me?”

“The key, my dear. That way when I drop by I can just let myself in.”

“I don’t understand.”

His solicitous attitude gave way to a more caustic one. “What’s not to understand? Most investors wouldn’t touch this deal with a ten-foot pole. I’m being so agreeable for one reason and one reason only.”

Katrina remained silent.

Calloway, though, had more to say in a very gloating, self-satisfied tone. “I already looked into your finances and you’re in big-time trouble. If you don’t take on a partner you’re going to lose this whole building, that means the apartment upstairs as well. Don’t fight the inevitable, Katrina. It won’t be so bad. I can be a very generous man.”

“So there is no misunderstanding, I want you to tell me exactly what you want?”

This time Caleb did groan out loud. Wasn’t it obvious what the man wanted?

“Your luscious body, dear Katrina, what else? When I first started coming here, it was solely for the cuisine. It took a while, but I finally became aware of that fantastic body of yours. Can’t see why you hide it. Doesn’t matter. When we’re alone, you won’t be wearing clothes anyway.”

“Get out!”

Finally! Caleb thought.

“Don’t be rash, Katrina. You don’t exactly have investors knocking down your door. Besides, I won’t come by more than two or three times a week. After all, I do have a wife and three kids to tend to.”

“I said get out!”

James Calloway’s tone lost every trace of civility. “Forget it. I want you and I intend to have you one way or another. Did you know that I’m in a position to take over your bank loan? Once that’s accomplished, I can recall it. You’ll either have to come up with the cash or face foreclosure. So you see, my dear, you have a lot to gain by becoming my partner and everything to lose if you don’t. Now, stop playing hard ball and let’s go upstairs. I’ve waited a long time

to--”

Caleb had heard enough. He barged through the doors, stomped over to Calloway, and knocked the man out with one well-placed punch.

* * *

After describing the previous night’s events, Beverly Dankawycz, Caleb’s attorney, shook her head in despair. “Didn’t I tell you to let the private detective handle this? When are you going to stop being so damn impulsive? You keep this up McBride and I won’t need any other clients. Between paying off your ex-wife, getting custody of your nephew, and handling that kidnapping charge, I’m becoming a rich woman. As your friend, I’d really hate to see you go bankrupt over legal fees.

“Relax. He’s not suing.”

She rounded a mahogany desk and lowered herself to a leather swivel chair. “How can you be so sure?”

Caleb didn’t answer right off. Instead he positioned himself in front of a window wall. Beverly’s nicely appointed office was fourteen stories high and close enough to city hall to see Calder’s statue of William Penn. Beyond that, he could make out the roof of the Art Museum and the trees of Fairmount Park. Below, pretzel vendors hugged several street corners while mounted patrolmen maneuvered through city traffic. It was a bright, clear day. The kind that Caleb relished back home. There a man could get a lung full of air and feel alive. Here he inhaled pollutants and felt like dying. Caleb never did like the city, but found himself here at least once a month conferring with either Beverly, his investment broker, or the private detective who was keeping tabs on Sarah’s whereabouts.

“Because I threatened to break his damn neck if he tried,” Caleb finally answered.

“Neanderthal tactics, good move,” she retorted sarcastically.

“Whatever it takes. At least he won’t bother Kit again.”

“I assume Kit is Katrina Cante.”

He nodded.

“You’re already using a nick name?”

“So.”

A knowing smile curved Beverly’s mouth. Over fifty, Beverly still had an eye-catching smile. She was also very pretty despite being slightly overweight. She carried herself with pride and didn’t care one iota about being fashionably thin. She worked hard, lived well, and had a sensitivity that Caleb found lacking in most lawyers. Having seen him through bitter times, Beverly had become a good friend.

“So a woman has finally caught your fancy.”

“Maybe.”

“No maybe about it. I haven’t seen a spark like that in your eyes for years.”

Caleb didn’t know about a spark, but he sure as hell knew his libido was in overdrive. Lord, he had taken two cold showers the night before and still hadn’t been able to quench passions he had no business feeling. He simply couldn’t deny that Katrina Cante haunted him. It wasn’t just her sensuality that got to him, either. What he found most intoxicating was the way she moved, the way she talked, the way her chin rose a notch with unconscious pride, the way she tolerated employees who couldn’t keep their arguments out of her kitchen, even the way she clung to her independence like a proud feline. Oh yeah, there were a hell of lot of things that attracted him to Katrina. Not all of them had to do with her body, yet he still wanted to feel that body against his. He still wanted to taste her luscious lips and fill his hands with her womanly breasts. He had conjured so many erotic images of Katrina during the sleepless night, he had remained in a constant state of arousal.

“Regardless of how I feel, I can’t act on it,” he said, verbalizing what he had told himself over and over again during the long dark hours. “She’ll think I’m trying to seduce her just so she’ll agree to help me.”

“But you do intend to change her mind.”

“I don’t have a choice. After making a fool out of myself last night, I decided I owed it to Kit to at least get in touch with the deprogrammers she had recommended. They’re booked for months. I have to rescue Sarah now before Masters warps her mind completely.”

“I agree. Only, I can see why Katrina isn’t anxious to tangle with Masters. His battery of lawyers could easily win him custody of Katrina’s daughter.”

“The courts would never give custody of a child to someone like him.”

“Are you kidding? They’ll make him out to be the next Billy Graham by the time they’re through. Don’t forget the only reason you won custody of Danny is because Sarah didn’t protest. If she did, at least you had the finances to fight. From what you tell me about Cante, she doesn’t.”

“If it came to that, I’d take care of things.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Leaning back in her chair, Beverly folded jeweled fingers over a silk suit. “Well, at least you got your foot in the door. How can a woman turn down a man who came to her rescue?”

Facing the attorney, Caleb offered her a small grin. “Rescue? The lady didn’t need to be rescued. She had nailed Calloway in one very sensitive spot before I got to the bastard.”

Beverly bellowed with laughter. “She didn’t!”

“No lie. In fact, as usual, I shouldn’t have interfered.” Caleb’s grin vanished. “Kit had the situation under control. All I did was make her furious.”

The laughter died in Beverly’s throat. “And you still think you’re going to convince her to help you?”

“Everyone has a price.”

“But you already offered her enough money to get her back on her feet and she refused.”

“Ahh, but this time I intend to toss in a healthy dose of the McBride charm.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

A grim line hardened Caleb’s mouth. At that moment, he didn’t like himself very much. “I’ll bluff.”

“Bluff?”

Caleb settled himself into a chair and slumped down. “Better get your secretary in here, we have a lot of work to do.”

The older woman stared at Caleb’s taut expression. “I don’t think I’m going to like this.”

“You’re right. You won’t, because I sure as hell don’t.”

* * *

From the playroom, Katrina could hear Jessy’s musical laughter mingle with that of Donna’s two-year-old girl and three-year-old boy. Two days had passed since her encounter with Caleb, yet it was still fresh in her mind. She couldn’t sleep right, and she kept messing up the dinner orders. Concerned with her own marital problems, Donna hadn’t questioned Katrina’s disconcerted behavior. Now, though, Donna and Andre had made up and Donna was back to her inquisitive self.

“Considering how awful you look, I gather negotiations with Calloway have fallen apart,” Donna said as she poured tea for the two of them.

Katrina didn’t even want to think about Calloway. How could she have been so stupid? After all those years of fighting fakes, you’d think she’d spot one a mile away. She had actually believed James Calloway was someone she wouldn’t mind working with. How could she be such a fool? Then again, it was probably inevitable: Cante women were great at being duped. It was a tradition her grandmother had started and every generation had followed suit. To make matters worse, she now knew that her loan could be bought and sold without her knowledge, which also meant it could be recalled without notice. She could only hope that Caleb’s threat would keep Calloway in line.

Still, that worry didn’t compare with the frustration she felt over Caleb. On the one hand, she felt intolerably guilty for refusing to help him. On the other hand, she was furious with him for interfering. He had said he was trying to protect her. She might have believed him if he didn’t want something from her. Well, at least he wasn’t after her body. Problem was she found herself wanting his. She had slipped in and out of erotic dreams for the last two nights. She envisioned Caleb’s caresses, his kisses, his tight, hard body pressed against hers. She heard his husky voice whisper her name. She saw his eyes darken with passion. The ache inside refused to be ignored. It was relentless, constant, reminding her that she was a woman with all the needs and desires of her kind.

After Masters, Katrina didn’t think she could ever feel like this again. Although, to be honest, she hadn’t felt anything remotely similar with David. The gentle, sweet man she had fallen for had turned out to be an egotistical, self-centered bastard. She didn’t find that out, though, until he gratified himself at her expense. Her one and only sexual experience left her feeling so degraded she didn’t think she’d ever desire another man. One look at Caleb, though, and her entire body tingled with a magic she thought impossible. It was a good thing she wouldn’t be seeing him again. Too much time in his company and she’d probably agree to anything and everything.

“It’s that bad, huh?” Donna went on when Katrina didn’t answer.

“Worse,” Katrina returned, rubbing her temples. A fierce pounding had begun behind her eyelids.

“Well... Are you going to tell me or not?”

“Or not sounds good to me.”

Stirring sugar into her cup, Donna shook her head. “Five years ago you saved me from a fate I don’t want to think about. It’s time for me to help you.”

“I don’t need help.”

“So you keep telling me, but would it kill you to talk about it. Dammit, Katrina, it would be nice to feel needed now and then, y’know.”

Caleb had said something very similar the other night. Perhaps, they were both right. Still, Katrina couldn’t help procrastinating and tugged self-consciously on her terry robe. “I have to get dressed if I’m going to get the kids to preschool on time.”

“We have a half hour yet. Besides, it’s my day to carpool. After school, I’ll take the kids out for burgers and bring them back around two. You need some time to pull yourself together.” Clinking her spoon against the china cup, Donna smiled encouragingly. “Now com’on, tell me about Calloway.”

With a breath of resignation, Katrina related a capsule version of everything that had happened, including Caleb’s eavesdropping and his predicament.

“I don’t believe it?”

“Me neither. I really thought Calloway was a decent man.”

“The hell with Calloway. I knew he was a rat.”

Katrina could hear Jessy singing in the playroom. Donna’s two children joined in. They were totally off key. It sounded delightful. Katrina would have enjoyed it all the more if her head would stop throbbing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you wouldn’t have listened. You have this irritating habit of thinking everyone has a good side. And that’s after years of seeing the worse humanity has to offer. I shudder to think how gullible you’d be if you had never been a cult deprogrammer. It always amazed me how anyone could be so credulous on the one hand, yet so independent on the other.”

“It’s a matter of fighting against one’s own nature. I want to believe in people, but they usually come up short. I won’t be easily fooled again,” she vowed despite a trace of uncertainty in her tone.

“Good. But that’s not what I find unbelievable.”

Katrina cocked her head quizzically. “What...”

“Ms. I’d-rather-eat-goat-curd-than-date is finally attracted to someone. Although, can’t say I blame you. Caleb is one hell of a gentleman and damn good looking too.”

Katrina’s cheeks flushed crimson. “I am not attracted to him.”

“Oh yes you are. Look at you. Just the mention of his name and you’re glowing.”

“You’re nuts.”

Donna shrugged, then spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “So tell me, when are you going to see him again?”

“Never. I gave him the names and numbers of people who can help him. Plus, I ordered him to stay away from me.”

Laughter bubbled up from Donna’s throat. “And you think that’s going to stop him from coming back? Oh Katrina, you really have been out of the dating game for far too long. The other night, the man couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.”

That’s all Katrina needed to do was think about his eyes. She saw levels of emotions there that had been tried and honed, passions that needed little provocation, and a great deal of raw determination. He told stories with his eyes, and it wouldn’t take much to believe in each and every fabrication. An acute need to see Caleb ripped through Katrina with such startling force, her knees felt weak. Yet, she refused to see him again. She didn’t need the type of complications he could bring to her life.

“He won’t come here again,” she said with more tenacity than conviction.

Again, Donna laughed. This time louder and longer. “You can be so naive at times. He’ll be back. Count on it.”

Three sets of sneakers came thundering through the apartment and into the kitchen alcove. “What’s so funny?” demanded Cory, Donna’s three-year-old son.

“You, funny face,” Donna said, sweeping the boy up into her arms.

“Me too,” announced Jessy never one to be left out. “My face is funny, too.”

“Definitely,” agreed Katrina as her daughter climbed onto her lap. She was a miniature of Katrina with the same honey-brown eyes and dark hair. Her long legs and ballerina thin body promised a leaner, less voluptuous frame than her mother’s, yet they shared the same generous nature and trusting soul.

Apparently not liking the idea of being the only child not getting a hug, Penny, Donna’s two-year- old, held her breath for several seconds, then burst into an ear-splitting cry. “Come here, sweetie,” Donna and Katrina crooned at the same time. Penny looked from one to the other, than with a mischievous squeal threw herself at Katrina.

Donna sighed. “One of these days that kid’s going to remember that I’m her mother, not you.”

For the first time that morning, Katrina laughed.

Her humor, though, was short lived. By the time Donna piled everyone into her van and took off for preschool, Katrina’s head felt like the percussion section of a symphony orchestra.

Walking into the bathroom, she downed three Midrin capsules, a prescription medication for headaches, and decided it was past time she started her day. Tossing off her robe, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her white teddy was cut provocatively low, revealing more of her breasts than it covered. French cut legs edged with Battenham lace enhanced long, tapered limbs. The satiny material caressed her skin and made her feel ultra feminine. Katrina loved silk, satin, and lace, but only indulged when it came to lingerie. Determined to avoid attention from men like Calloway, Katrina refused to wear provocative clothing.

As Katrina waited for the shower to heat up, she pulled out an array of lotion, bath gel, and cologne. Soon the bathroom filled with steam and a lilac aroma. It was an old bathroom with a corner shower, pedestal sink, and claw foot bathtub. Like the restaurant, the apartment used to belong to her grandmother.

Katrina removed the teddy, then stepped into the comforting spray. Ignoring her bandaged hand, she worked bath gel into a large sponge and ran it over her body. Both the warm water and the medication began to take effect. Tension evaporated, leaving calm serenity in its wake.

She couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to have Caleb’s hands follow the same path as the sponge. She remembered his tender touch. Beneath the gentleness, there had been incredible heat and strength. Hands like his, with those powerful fingers, could work magic. He’d find all those secret spots that only intuitive men knew about. She tossed her head back and pretended to feel his callused palms trace the curve of each breast, then down over the swell of her hips to her buttock. He’d linger there awhile, then find his way to that most sensitive core, making her want and want and want - like she did now.

She caught her breath and bit her bottom lip. She had to stop fantasizing about him! She couldn’t. The man was irresistible. It wasn’t just because of his devastatingly good looks, either. His magnetism could be found in his husky laugh and quick easy grin, in the timbre of his voice with its upstate drawl and its sensuous undertone, in the way he took over in a crisis yet stepped back and allowed others to control the situation when he was no longer needed. Oh yes, Caleb McBride was a man any woman would find intriguing. But only a fool would fall for a man she didn’t know inside out. With her body tingling and her mind filled with erotic images, Katrina felt like the world’s biggest fool.

Muttering a curse, she switched on the cold water and stood under its stinging spray until her teeth chattered. Then just as she stepped out of the tub, she heard a heavy knocking. Probably Donna, she thought, ready for more details now that the kids were all in class.

Gabbing a bath towel, she rushed through the apartment.

The knocking continued. “I’m coming,” she called, wrapping the towel around her.

She was still a few feet from the door when it began to open. “Guess I forgot to lock the...”

The words died on her tongue as Katrina’s startled gaze clashed with Caleb McBride’s ardent one.

CHAPTER THREE

“Hello, anyone...” Caleb started, then sucked in a tattered breath as he took in Katrina. His eyes instantly darkened with passion. His pulse pounded like hail against a tin roof.

“Oh Lord,” he muttered.

Katrina in just a towel and droplets of moisture was more than a healthy man could resist. He knew he should say something, do something, move! Instead, he simply ravaged her with his gaze. Her skin had more luster than he had imagined. Her breasts were fuller; her legs longer. Yet her hair was everything that he had thought it would be. Even wet, it shimmered and danced like black satin. A delicate fringe of bangs framed her face, then angled away to caress smooth shoulders. Delicately etched cheekbones, branded a natural shade of crimson, off-set the perfect symmetry of a slender nose and sensuous lips. Then there was her scent. Thoughts of summer rain and dew misted flowers swirled through his mind. He inhaled an extra breath and felt his senses reel.

It was her eyes, though, that reached inside and twisted his heart. It wasn’t the coloring, a warm honey-brown flecked with amber that got to him. Nor was it the midnight black lashes, wet and spiky, and unbelievably long. What unbalanced Caleb’s equilibrium was the emotion he saw. No wonder she wore tinted lenses. Eyes like hers hid nothing. He could see her embarrassment as clearly as if she had spoken of it. He also detected pain? Oh Lord, yes, layers of pain. Passion? Was that there as well? Or was that wishful thinking. Fear was the final emotion that claimed those hypnotic eyes.

He couldn’t blame her. He probably looked like a sex-crazed psycho ready to pounce. “Um...” he began, closing the door and placing a large picnic hamper on the floor. “I knocked, there wasn’t an answer.”

“Shower,” she said.

“Obviously.”

He could tell she didn’t know where to look. She acted as if he were the one standing there half-naked.

“I... I’ll... get dressed,” she managed, pointing to the bedroom.

He ordered himself to stop staring like a drooling adolescent. He couldn’t. “Good idea.”

Katrina backed out of the room as if fearing he’d follow her. In truth, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him anymore than he could stop staring. He was so unlike the men she knew with their designer suits, perfectly groomed nails, and styled hair.

Caleb looked as if his hair refused to relinquish its will to a comb. His nails were short and clean. Cut, not filed. Natural, not polished or buffed. He had recently shaved and his firm jaw boasted a tiny cut. He wore jeans and hiking boots again, while under a lambswool field jacket she detected another chamois cloth shirt. The blue color brought out cerulean hues in his eyes while the jacket emphasized the width of powerful shoulders. She remembered what it felt like to be in his arms and found herself wanting to be there again.

Oh God, what was wrong with her? At this point, she should be indignant. He had the look of a predator, and she had seen that look in more men than she cared to count. Men who wanted to use her body, but couldn’t care less about her heart. She usually didn’t have a hard time dismissing the look or the man. Caleb was different. Her system melted into liquid heat under his unrelenting inspection. She had all she could do not to let the towel fall and allow the natural passions of a man and woman take over. But thinking with their heart and body had destroyed more than one Cante woman. Katrina wasn’t about to let it happen again.

Caleb watched as she disappear into the bedroom. He leaned against the door, let out a long slow breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. “Get control, dammit,” he muttered, even as desire continued to pulsate through his body. It was no use. The best he could do was ignore it. For the first time since he had met Katrina, he wanted her to wear those godawful glasses and the baggiest clothes available.

Opening his eyes, he discarded his coat and took in the apartment. It wasn’t very large, but it was immaculate and appealing. Considering she lived in the city, he expected contemporary decor. Instead, the room had an early-American flavor with pine furnishings and colorful rag rugs. One entire wall was devoted to pictures. There was one of an elderly couple and another of a younger woman dressed in sixties apparel. A few more were of a woman who looked very much like Katrina except for lighter hair and a somewhat gaunt body. The majority of the pictures, though, appeared to be of Katrina’s daughter at various stages of development. Something shifted inside Caleb’s chest. He had the same display of pictures back home of Danny, Sarah’s boy. Lord, he missed him, and he had been gone only a few days.

Pulling his gaze away from the photos, he noted the shelving above a deacon’s bench. It housed tinware, paper-covered boxes, and hand-carved wooden toys. Another shelf held teapots, while a third displayed a small assortment of Staffordshire china. He recognized the latter because his mother had collected it when she was alive. There wasn’t a couch, just a small love-seat. Nor did he notice a television, only numerous books stacked in neat piles along the perimeter of a lengthy brick wall. A bookcase held a menagerie of children’s toys, books, and tapes while a child sized kitchen set and a basket of toys resided nearby.

A shaker table with Duxbury chairs dominated a small alcove at the far end of the room. The wall to its left prevented Caleb from seeing any more of the apartment, but what he saw he liked. The collections added just enough warmth to the plain furnishings. It made Caleb want to grab a book, slouch down in the love seat, and put up his feet. Better yet, he’d like to slouch down in the love seat and pull Katrina down with him. He instantly yanked his thoughts away from that image. He needed to calm his libido, not enflame it.

Apparently, Katrina had something similar in mind. When she appeared, he almost laughed at the transformation. Not only were the glasses in place and her hair knotted in a bun, she wore dark, loose-fitting leggings and a white button-down shirt three sizes too big. Bulky socks and sneakers completed the outfit, leaving anything erotic to the imagination. Caleb, though, had a great imagination. He couldn’t get the image of her in that towel out of his mind.

Katrina entered the room and faced Caleb with bold confidence. “What are you doing here?”

He noted the transformation wasn’t just in her attire. It was as if the woman had built a brick wall around herself.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“We finished talking the other night. I told you I can’t help you.”

“Neither can anyone that you have recommended. They’re booked for months. I need to get my sister out now.”

Caleb was right. The sooner Sarah got away from Masters the better. Only, how did Katrina agree to do something that would jeopardize her daughter’s security? Besides, he needed someone more capable than her. What if she failed... like before?

“If I were still in the business, I would have been booked for months as well. As harsh as this must sound, you must wait your turn.”

“Why should I when you’re available now?”

Guilt overwhelmed her. How could she be so callous? Maybe, she wasn’t the best person for the job, but she was better than nothing. “I am not available,” she said, before her own uncertainties persuaded her to do something reckless. She moved to a corner desk and pulled out an address book. “I’ll make a couple of phone calls and see what I can do. Get back to me later this afternoon, okay?”

“Are you hungry?”

The unexpected question made her turn and stare. “What?”

He picked up the picnic hamper and carried it to a shaker style table. “You look hungry.”

“What?!” she announced once more as she folded her arms across her chest and spun around.

“Does this place have a kitchen, or do you use the restaurant’s--” He broke off as he sighted a galley to his left. A refrigerator, stove, and eye-level oven were built into a brick wall. “Great,” he continued as he pulled out of the hamper a can of peeled tomatoes, a garlic bulb, parsley, and basil leaves. He placed everything on the counter, whipped a sauce pan off the wall, and placed it on a burner. Next, he grabbed a pot and filled it with water, placed that on the burner as well and switched on the gas.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Making lunch. I hope you don’t mind eating this early, but I had a busy morning and didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast.”

“Would you please stop.”

Caleb pretended not to hear her. “I prefer fresh tomatoes for the sauce, but that would take too long.”

Katrina cut the distance between them. “I don’t want lunch. I don’t even want you here.”

He pulled a loaf of Italian bread out of the hamper and placed it on the counter. “Would you mind crushing up some garlic with butter and spreading it on the bread?”

Katrina grabbed his arm before he could pull out a bag of tortellini. “Didn’t you hear me?”

He glanced at her hand, then directly into her eyes. “I hear you, Kit. And, Lord help me, I also feel you right down to my toes. But if I don’t start lunch, I’ll probably start something else.”

Taking her hand, he flipped it palm side up and placed his lips against the throbbing pulse in her wrist. Katrina sucked in a tattered breath as wave after wave of heat scorched her senses.

“If I start that something else,” he continued as he kissed her freshly bandaged palm, then placed her hand against his heart, allowing her to feel its erratic thudding. “It’ll satisfy an altogether different hunger. A hunger that we both feel. A hunger that I refuse to give into until after I get my sister out of that cult. So what do you say, Kit? Are you ready for some lunch?”

It took more than will-power to pull away. It took strength honed by remembered pain. “How dare you?! I don’t hunger for anything you have to offer, not lunch, and definitely not your sexy body.”

A slow, satisfied grin appeared. “Sexy, huh?”

She blinked. “I didn’t say sexy.”

He cocked his head, leaned back slightly on his heels, and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. It was a thoughtlessly masculine stance that exaggerated hard thighs and narrow hips. Katrina didn’t breathe.

“Yeah, you did.” A soft distracting twinkle entered his eyes. “I think you’re pretty sexy too.”

She forced out a breath, inhaled, forced out another. “Why, because of my bra size?”

“No, Kit, not because of your body, as glorious as it is. It’s something I can’t define, and it’s something you can’t hide. It’s there, though. Lord, you smile and my insides knot. Do you have any idea the power you hold over a man?”

“Oh yeah, for about five minutes. Once your lust is satisfied, it’s...”

The incredulous expression on his face silenced her. She suddenly realized she had admitted more than she had wanted known.

“Five minutes? A woman needs more than five minutes to be satisfied. What type of men have you been intimate with?”

“None of your business.”

He moved toward her slowly, carefully, as if she were a defenseless creature that could be easily frightened. “Surely not every man you’ve been with has--”

“There’s only been one,” she interrupted. For some inexplicable reason, it was important to her that he know that.

His jaw muscle worked. His bottom lip hardened. “Masters is more of a bastard than even I had envisioned.”

“Aren’t most men,” she blurted, then turned away. The sympathy in his eyes unnerved her almost as much his sudden proximity. His body heat scorched the air between them. His breath stirred the soft tendrils at the nape of her neck.

“No,” he whispered. “I have four brothers, and not one of them is a bastard. And you can’t tell me you haven’t known any decent men in your life. How about your father, grandfather, brothers?”

“I don’t have any brothers. As for the rest...” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

He couldn’t see her eyes, but her entire body seemed to fold in on itself.

“Tell me,” he said.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Caleb saw through the lie. “That bad, huh?”

She didn’t answer. Her stance became even more impregnable.

“They say you can only heal, once you let it out. I’m a good listener, Kit.”

His cajoling voice and tender behavior reached inside Katrina, coaxing her to drop her defenses. Last time she did that, she ended up pregnant and disillusioned. “Stop it. Stop acting like you care. You don’t even know me,” she shot back and took several steps away.

Moving with her, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him. “Why are you so angry with me? I haven’t done anything to hurt you. For God’s sake, lady, if you can’t talk, fine, but why can’t you at least hear me out?”

Katrina couldn’t answer. It wasn’t his fault that Cante women always chose the wrong men anymore than it was his fault that Masters had used her, or that Calloway had nearly conned her. No, nothing was Caleb McBride’s fault except that he got under her skin and made her feel vulnerable.

She shrugged out of his grasp. “Get out, McBride. Leave your number, and I’ll pass it on to someone reliable. Other than that I don’t want anything to do with you.”

He caught her jaw in his large palm. “Just like that. Without hearing me out? Without knowing what I can offer you?”

She slapped at his hand. “There’s nothing you have that I want.”

He captured her shoulders again. “Dammit, Kit, you are going to listen. It’s not just about helping me, but about helping yourself.”

She struggled against his powerful grip. “You expect me to believe that? I’m not as gullible as you think I am. Now, let go!”

“Not until I have my say.”

“No!”

The more she fought, the tighter his grip became. “Stop it!”

“Go away!”

“Settle down!”

She didn’t. Katrina continued to fight against his unrelenting hold. She twisted and turned, clenched her fists and tried to kick his shins. Her glasses went flying. Her hair came undone. Several buttons popped off her blouse.

Katrina knew she was over-reacting. She also knew his proximity elicited erogenous sensations she didn’t want to feel. He smelled of cold air and a winter forest. He felt like raw unbridled power that could bend her will all too easily. He looked hard and formidable, yet completely sensuous. She couldn’t help wondering what he’d taste like. She couldn’t help wanting to feel the texture of his hair, to test the muscles rippling under his clothes. She couldn’t help simply wanting.

“No more!” Caleb demanded, wondering what in hell he did to provoke such a violent reaction. “If you don’t stop, one of us is going to get hurt.”

It was as if she were a woman possessed, fighting the devil himself. Did she see him that way? Why? Her hair stung his face, slid across his mouth. He fought it aside and crushed her against him. “Dammit!”

“No, damn you!” Her words came out in a choked whisper as she continued her endless struggle.

In total exasperation, he used strength he had deliberately held in check. He pulled her to the floor, settled his weight on top of her sculptured body, and imprisoned her hands above her head. “If you can start acting like a civilized person, I’ll let you--”

It wasn’t the sudden realization of their very provocative position that severed Caleb’s words. It was the brewing passion in her expression. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy. Quick, tattered gasps of air escaped her lungs while her nostrils flared ever so slightly. Caleb groaned as the ever present longing flared to an impossible degree. His entire body tightened in response. He felt her pelvis press against his hardened shaft and knew he had to get the hell away from her before he started something he had no business starting.

Only Katrina was past the point of reasoning. It wasn’t that she hadn’t felt the strength and passion of a man for far too long, or that loneliness had become her only constant companion. It wasn’t even that her previous experiences had never prepared her for the volatile need that Caleb provoked. Katrina’s longing came from her heart. When he touched her, she felt a certain bonding and blending of spirits. It was as if she had finally found a comforting haven after a very long journey. She studied the contours of his chiseled lips, the darkening of his gaze, the hallows of his cheeks. She couldn’t resist him. Without thought, she pressed her lips to his.

Caleb’s shock died under thundering passion. Her lips tasted sweet yet salty and felt unbelievably warm. It wasn’t an experienced kiss, yet he sensed a hunger that mirrored his own. It came to him that things were going too fast. She would regret giving into her desire as much as he regretted not being able to stop. They just didn’t need to complicate an already complicated situation. Still, the kiss was inevitable. No two people could be this attracted to each other and have nothing happen. He’d wanted Katrina from the first moment he had laid eyes on her. It wasn’t just her body he wanted, either. There were depths to her that needed to be explored. Buried pain he wanted to heal. He couldn’t fathom his needs. He couldn’t ignore them either.

With another groan, he became the aggressor. Unlike her tentative advances, his were bold, experienced. His tongue parted her lips, tracing their contours before slipping into her mouth. He outlined the serration of her teeth, dueled with feathery caresses of her tongue, explored the velvety inner regions.

Katrina became a torch of burning need as the reaction she unwittingly sought from Caleb became a reality. She hadn’t meant to kiss him. Only the feel of his body against hers destroyed every ounce of restraint. She had fantasized about emotions like this all her life. She had fantasized yet had prayed it wouldn’t happen until she found the right man. Someone who would care more about her thoughts and dreams than her body. Someone who didn’t want anything from her but companionship and love. In her experience, men like that didn’t exist. Still, she accepted Caleb’s thrusting tongue and hated herself for responding. She arched her hips, moaned in bittersweet anticipation, and despised her reaction.

When he shifted his weight and released her hands, she sought the silky strands of his hair. She twisted her mouth, urging him to sip deeper of untested passions. Tears sprang to her eyes as she fought against increasing heat surges and the need to feel him inside her. His mouth moved along her jaw, down to the throbbing pulse in her neck and that sensitive hollow that few men knew existed.

“Please,” she managed, even as her hands moved over the sinewy strength of his shoulders.

“Please,” she whispered just before his mouth captured hers once more, fusing them together in mindless surrender.

“Please,” she gasped as he rained kisses over her face, neck, and ears.

Caleb accepted the word as encouragement. After all, she did nothing to stop him. And Caleb wasn’t sure if he could stop. He had never wanted a woman more than at that moment. His only restraint came from wanting to prolong the passion, from wanting her to experience a full magnitude of pleasure.

Then he tasted her tears and heard the desperation in her tone. “Don’t! Please, don’t-- Don’t do this.”

He couldn’t quite comprehend her words for her hips moved against his in a natural rhythm. She had tilted her head, allowing him better access to the delicate arch of her throat. Yet, again, he heard her anguish. “Oh God, Caleb, stop!”

At that moment, he knew the fate of their relationship rested with him. He could continue and she wouldn’t stop him, but he would never be able to earn her trust either. If he wanted to keep this woman in his life, he had to be strong enough for both of them. For an instant more, he held her. His mouth remained fastened to her throat, relishing the feel of her erratic pulse. One hand squeezed her waist, resisting the urge to move upward toward her breast. Then, all at once, he moved away.

He scurried backward until he hit the wall and remained there for several seconds, trying desperately to bring himself under control. Katrina didn’t move except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Tears spilled mutely over her cheeks.

For several seconds the only sound came from boiling water and the rush of city traffic.

Slowly, Caleb’s desire gave way to compassion. This was one very hurt lady who needed a comforting embrace and soft-spoken words. Only Caleb knew a wounded mountain lion would be more approachable.

“Kit...” he began softly.

“Get out,” she returned, sitting up and folding her arms across her chest. “Just leave me alone.”

Caleb couldn’t take her obstinacy a second longer. He needed her, and dammit to hell, she needed him more than she realized. Getting to his feet, he stomped to the galley, switched off the burner, then he searched for his coat. He yanked a legal document out of the inside pocket and tossed it at Katrina’s feet.

“I want you to sign that. It’s a contract similar to the one Calloway offered you. I’ll finance all your needs, help out with management and repairs. All you have to do is help me bring back my sister.”

An incredulous look came over her expression. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m offering you a partnership. Unlike Calloway, I’m not demanding that you sleep with me. I’m not even demanding that you to go after Sarah. I just want your advice, your expertise.”

Her eyes were raw with emotions Caleb couldn’t even guess at. The need to hold her kept growing. He cursed softly, then donned his coat. “I gotta get out of here, Kit. But I want you to sign that first.”

“You have no right--”

“I guess I don’t, but I’m taking it anyway. I need you, Kit. And, I’ll pay anything to get what I need. Besides, it’s about time somebody took an interest in your welfare. Might as well be me.”

She got to her feet, hands balled into fists. “I’m perfectly capable of seeing to my own welfare, thank you very much.”

“You haven’t been doing a very good job of it, have you?”

“I’ve been doing just fine.”

“Sign it, Kit.”

“Like hell.”

“Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face. It’s stupid.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Now, I’m stupid!”

“Prove me wrong.”

Indignation flooded Katrina’s expression. “I will, by not signing the blasted contract.”

Caleb couldn’t remember a time he had been angrier. Playing his final ace, Caleb cut the distance separating him from Katrina. “You will sign it. Or I’ll call in your loan.”

He had no intention of doing any such thing. Cruelty wasn’t one of Caleb’s vices, yet Katrina didn’t know him well enough to realize he was bluffing.

Her generous mouth dropped open. Her complexion paled. “You can’t do that.”

“Yeah, I can. I outbid Calloway for it less than an hour ago. I’m your new mortgage holder, Katrina. Now sign the damn contract or go bankrupt. The choice is yours.”

Fury stole her speech and robbed her of common sense. After scooping up the contract, she stomped to the desk, flung open a drawer, and plucked up a pen. Before she could even think of what she was doing, she flipped to the last page and scrawled her signature.

“Good,” he stated, coming up behind her to snatch the papers. “Now, make sure you and your daughter are packed by nine tomorrow morning. Since my brothers want to be in on the rescue, it’s best if we plan it back home. I’m sure Donna and Andre can cover for you here.”

Katrina was still too shocked to speak, but she managed a defiant glare.

Caleb made his way to the door, then paused. “By the way, you best change your blouse. I wouldn’t want anyone to think our association is anything more than just a business arrangement.”

Looking down at her blouse, Katrina realized that the only buttons left were at the bottom. A very lacy bra and very deep cleavage had been exposed the whole time they had argued.

“Bastard,” she shouted as she clenched her blouse closed.

His eyes clashed with hers. “No, Kit, a bastard would have finished what you had started. I’m only a man with very masculine urges. Next time you come on to me like that, be prepared to follow through. I won’t back off again.”

With that, he slipped through the door. Katrina picked up the closest thing at hand, a glass paper weight, and flung it after him. It dented the door, then fell and bruised the hardwood floor.

* * *

By the time Donna appeared with the kids, Katrina had packed up Caleb’s groceries and changed into an oversized woolen sweater. The children immediately dashed into the playroom, giving Katrina a chance to confide in Donna about McBride’s audacity. Tucking her feet up under her, she toyed with a pen. “I can’t believe I really signed the damn thing without even having a lawyer look it over.”

“Lawyer? Hell, girl, I would have been happy if you had simply read it. Did you at least keep a copy.”

Katrina shook her head.

“This isn’t at all like you.”

“I know.” Katrina grabbed a pen from the holder and started doodling on a green blotter. “But he made me so angry, I couldn’t think straight.”

Pausing, she took a breath and released it slowly. She wasn’t about to reveal just how little control she had possessed. My God, if Caleb hadn’t stopped, how far would she have gone? Even now, just thinking of what his lips and hands could do inflamed her senses. What was wrong with her? The man had blackmailed her. He wasn’t much better than Calloway. No, Calloway’s actions were motivated by lust. Caleb was simply desperate. And, to her mortification, she had been the one who had initiated the kiss. He hadn’t tried to seduce her, only responded to her unbridled advances. Besides, he wasn’t asking her to participate in the rescue. He only wanted her as an advisor and was willing to pay a small fortune for that advice. Still, Caleb had tricked her. It proved he was as deceitful and manipulative as any other man. She’d be an idiot to get involved with him. Only, how did she get out of this? Would she be forced to take it to court? She didn’t have enough money to cover legal fees. Perhaps if Caleb knew the results of her final deprogramming disaster, he wouldn’t be so eager to have her help. Telling him wasn’t an option. She wasn’t ready to sacrifice the tattered remains of her pride.

Donna settled herself on the edge of the desk. One denim clad leg swayed back and forth. “I think he was bluffing.”

“I don’t think he would have gone through the trouble of purchasing my mortgage simply as a bluff.”

“Maybe he did that to save you from Calloway.”

“In other words, Caleb McBride came riding in on his white charger to save the damsel in distress.”

Donna smiled. “How romantic.”

“How sexist. I wouldn’t want that type of help. Besides, I can take care of myself and Jessy.”

“If that were true, girl, neither Caleb or Calloway would have been able to get their clutches into you.”

Katrina continued to doodle, her strokes firm and deliberate, her mind elsewhere. “How did I make such a mess out of my life?”

“Hey, you didn’t make a mess of anything. You’re just too damn generous. You lend people money without even a promissory note. You give to every panhandler, church, and mission on this side of the Platt Bridge. Plus, you had spent more than half your working life in a very poor-paying job.”

Donna cocked her head, staring at Katrina’s mindless doodle. “Besides, I still think he was bluffing. Caleb McBride doesn’t have a cruel bone in that incredible body of his. In the back of your mind, I think, you knew that. You signed the contract because you really do want to help him. Even more, you can’t stand the thought of never seeing him again.”

“You’re full of it, Donna.”

“Am I?”

“I don’t even like the man.”

“I beg to differ. You’re so hot for McBride that you could build a fire without lighting a match.”

“You’re nuts.”

“I’ll go one further. I think you could fall for McBride. I mean, fall hard, fast, and permanently.”

“You are so wrong.”

“No, I’m very, very right.”

“And what makes you think that?”

Donna pointed to Katrina’s doodle. Unwittingly, Katrina had scratched out Caleb’s name and had drawn a heart around it.

CHAPTER FOUR

Caleb downed his second beer and toyed with his sandwich. The sound of cutlery and muted conversation filled the pub. The lunch time crowd consisted mostly of business executives, computer hackers, and a few stray construction workers. Caleb didn’t notice. He didn’t even know why he had ordered anything. He wasn’t really hungry. Wrong, he was hungry all right, but not for food. He hungered for Katrina’s compliant lips and seductive body, for hands that left a trail of fire beneath their tender touch.

No other woman had ever managed to break through his control so easily. Despite having once married a woman within three days of meeting her, Caleb usually took it slow when it came to intimacy. It wasn’t just about sex with him. He wanted to know a woman’s thoughts and needs. He wanted to be part of her world and make her part of his own. Yet, there he was romping around on the floor, no less, with a hellion that wouldn’t let down her defenses long enough to give him the time of day.

He didn’t blame her for that impromptu little episode. If she hadn’t initiated the kiss, he probably would have. The chemistry between them was more than a little explosive. Still, he shouldn’t have let things get out of control anymore than he should have blackmailed Katrina into signing that contract. Dammit to hell, he wasn’t much better than Calloway. If he had an ounce of honor, he’d tell Katrina he’d help her with no strings attached. Only, what would happen to Sarah?

With a muttered curse, Caleb tossed several bills on the table, then stomped out of the pub. He walked the streets half the night and kept coming back to the same conclusion: he was a bastard. If any of his siblings pulled a stunt like this, he’d ream them out and would force them to set things right. Beverly had warned him that he wouldn’t have the stomach for this type of manipulation. She had been right. If Katrina didn’t help of her own accord, he’d have to find another way to rescue his sister.

At two in the morning, Caleb found his way back to his hotel room. Sleep, though, didn’t come easily. Katrina had stirred forgotten longings, and it was going to be damn hard saying good-bye.

* * *

The next morning, after Katrina took her turn at car pool she parked her Nissan in

front of The Gazebo, then made her way to the service alley. Overhead, the sky was gray

and threatening. She couldn’t remember if the weather reporter had predicted rain, sleet, or snow. She could only hope it didn’t turn out to be a horrible day for travel. Not that she intended to accompany Caleb, but... Dammit! Why did she keep quibbling? She couldn’t help Caleb, could she? She had to be firm. After all, she refused to succumb to blackmail.

Katrina sighed. Maybe she was a fool, but she really didn’t think he’d go through with it. He didn’t seem the type. Donna was right: the man was bluffing out of desperation. He had every right to be desperate, and she really didn’t have the right to deny him her help. After all, chances were that David Masters would never know that Katrina helped with Sarah’s rescue. Katrina’s reluctance wasn’t just about Jessy. Nor was it about her intense attraction to Caleb. Even if she had drawn a heart around his name, and constantly craved his touch, she was mature enough not to let her emotions get in the way of a rescue. In truth, Katrina feared she'd fail. Having one death on her conscience was enough.

Absorbed in thought, Katrina hadn’t noticed James Calloway standing by the alley door until he had stepped into her path. With a startled gasp, she jumped back a step. “What are you doing here?”

“We have to talk.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Ah, but I do.”

Calloway smiled. Some would have called it a dynamic smile, straight, gleaming teeth set against hard masculine lips. To Katrina, the smile was as hideous as the yellowish-blue bruise decorating his jaw. It appeared Caleb did more damage than she had.

“Too bad, I’m not in a chatty type of mood.” She slipped her key into the restaurant’s back door and jiggled the handle. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

Upon entering the kitchen, Calloway forced his way inside before she could stop him. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?”

Perhaps she should have been scared. After all, she only knew one or two self-defense moves and Calloway had a man’s strength. Katrina, though, was too annoyed to be frightened. She slipped out of a burgundy anorak, tossed it on a stool, then moved to the other side of the kitchen island, wishing to put as much distance between herself and Calloway as possible. “I wasn’t playing a game, Mister Calloway. You wanted something I’m not willing to give, end of story. So will you please leave me alone.”

“I wish I could, dear Katrina, but I want you. I want you very badly, and I’m used to getting what I want.”

She didn’t like where Calloway was taking this. She especially didn’t like the way he leered at her as if she were striptease in a South Street bar. Her pulse jumped with unease even as her indignation rose.

She slammed her keys down on the stainless steel counter. The sound ricocheted through the room. “If you don’t leave me alone, I intend to tell your wife she should start looking for a lawyer.”

A cutting laugh escaped his throat. “Dear Katrina, do you really think she’d leave me over someone as trivial as you? We have an understanding. As long as I’m discreet, I can have as many lovers as I choose.”

Bile rose up in Katrina’s throat. “That’s sick.”

“It’s life. Now, dear Katrina, I’m sure we can reach some sort of compromise. I’ll pay off your mortgage in exchange for your cooperation. Then you won’t have to worry about anyone foreclosing on you.” He moved toward her, stopping when he was just inches away. “What do you say, Katrina, is it a deal?”

“Here’s my deal, Mister Calloway. If you leave right this very instant, I won’t knee you the way I did the other night. Sound good?”

With a scowl twisting his features, he took a step backward. “Don’t trifle with me Katrina, you won’t like the way I play hard ball.”

“You really are a sorry excuse for a man. Considering a honorable man like Caleb McBride holds my mortgage, I have nothing to worry about and you have absolutely nothing to play ball with. Now, go away.”

With that she gave Calloway her back and started toward the stairs to her apartment. He grabbed her arm before she took more than a step. “This isn’t over.”

“Damn if it’s not!” Caleb announced from the doorway. “Let her go, now!”

“This doesn’t involve you McBride. You lay a hand on me again, and I’ll press charges.” Calloway tightened his grip, making Katrina wince.

Fierce, protective rage darkened Caleb’s eyes. He stomped across the room, gathered up Calloway’s coat collar in one large hand, then shoved the man away from Katrina. “Go ahead and press charges, I’m not a stranger to jail. In fact, it would be worth it just to have the pleasure of knocking your teeth down your throat.”

“Stop it!” Katrina demanded, as Caleb moved toward Calloway, fists balled. “I can handle this.”

“Ah, Kit, there’s only one way to handle scum like him, and I don’t think you have the stomach for it.”

“I don’t like violence.”

“Neither do I, but I also don’t want this creep to threaten you again. He doesn’t have the right to make demands or to manipulate you.”

“Neither did you, Caleb, but that didn’t stop you, did it?”

The anger in his expression gave way to remorse. “No, it didn’t. But, at least, I recognize that it was wrong, and I intend to do something about it.”

Calloway’s laugh was caustic. “It seems I’m not the only one playing games.”

Katrina sprinted over the few feet separating her from Calloway and flung a hand toward the door. “If you don’t leave, I’ll knock your teeth down your throat.”

Calloway lifted his hand as if to slap Katrina, then dropped it the instant Caleb took a menacing step toward him. “Like I said, this isn’t over.”

“Threaten her again,” Caleb warned in a tight controlled tone, “and you’ll find out you’re not the only one who can play hardball, and I’m not just talking about using my fists. There are ways I can toy with your financial portfolio that’ll affect your entire lifestyle.”

All the color drained out of Calloway, yet fury rippled over his frame, making his speech stiff and quivery. “The bitch isn’t worth it. You’ll soon find that out, McBride. No bitch is worth it.”

Katrina followed Calloway to the door, slamming it on his retreating back with such force, it popped back open. She slammed it again, then pounded it with clenched fists. “Damn him! Damn him!”

She felt the warmth of Caleb’s palm on her shoulder. The sensation moved through her like quicksilver, making her knees weak. Ignoring it, she spun around, effectively dislodging his hand. “Damn you too!”

Katrina made her way up the stairs and into her apartment, pausing in the middle of the living room, shoulders hunched, arms crisscrossing her chest. “And damn me for wanting to trust you,” she muttered.

An instant later, Caleb was behind her. He didn’t touch her this time, but she felt his heat pulsating along the length of body. God, how she wanted to lean into his warmth, but she couldn’t trust herself anymore than she could trust his intentions.

“I shouldn’t have screamed at you,” she said. “You were only trying to help, but I’ve taken care of myself for an awful long time. I don’t need you or anyone else to be my champion.”

“I know, but sometimes everyone needs a helping hand, Kit. Besides, after the way I’ve acted, I owed you one.” He moved around her, hands stuffed into pockets, head bent. “I never meant to hurt you. I was just--” he shook his head. “There are no excuses. I’m not much better than Calloway, am I?”

Katrina looked at him, really looked. Dark smudges circled his eyes. He boasted a day’s growth of beard and had a weary, dejected aura about him. Every ounce of her rage vanished.

“Caleb? Are you all right? Sarah?”

He met her gaze. There was so much anguish in his eyes, Katrina flinched.

“I’m fine. Sarah, well, I haven’t heard anything new.” He rubbed the back of his neck and straightened his stance. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“You’re not Calloway. You’re nothing like him.”

“That means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

“You had no intention of going through with blackmailing me, did you?”

He shook his head. “Never. I was desperate; it was a bluff. True, I own your mortgage, but I wouldn’t call in your loan. You don’t deserve that.”

“And the contract?”

“That’s real enough, but without witnesses and notarization, it probably wouldn’t stand up in court. That doesn’t mean I won’t honor it, but you don’t have to abide by it. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Since you truly didn’t plan to go through with any of it, there’s nothing to forgive. However, I’d feel better if you tore up the contract.”

“Your restaurant is a solid investment, Kit. Let me help you out with this. It’ll be my way of showing you how sorry I am.”

“That’s not necessary. It’s my problem, I’ll figure a way out.”

He opened his mouth as if to protest, then snapped it shut. “If that’s what you want,” he relented.

“Yes.”

“Um, you said something yesterday about making phone calls. Are you still willing? I mean, could you see your way clear to--”

Katrina’s last bit of resistance melted under his endless humility. She sighed deeply and wished to God she had more sense than gullibility. What if this was all a pretense, another way to get her to agree to his terms willingly? No one was that good an actor, she thought. Besides, any man who cared about his family as much as Caleb did couldn’t be too despicable. He didn’t deserve her cynicism; he did deserve her help. Could she go through with it? Did she still have the inner fortitude to try? “Would you like a cup of coffee, Caleb?”

He blinked. After the way he had treated her, he hadn’t expected her to be civil, let alone hospitable. “I’d like that.”

Minutes later, they were at her kitchen table, coffee mugs in hand. Caleb took a healthy swallow as he studied Katrina. Even without a trace of makeup and those ridiculous glasses plastered to her face, she was still radiant. Her hair fell about her shoulders like black satin. Her complexion was flawless, while an over-sized sweater subtly emphasized magnificent curves. He didn’t hide his scrutiny. He might never see this woman again; he intended to get his fill. What bothered him, though, was that creeps like Calloway also intended to get their fill. He wished she were his to protect. He wished he could drop Calloway off the Platt Bridge with weights tied to his ankles. Caleb simply had to remind himself that Katrina took care of herself years before he had ever entered the picture, and she’d continue to take care of herself long after he was only a memory.

“When was the last time you slept?” Katrina asked as she did her own bit of scrutinizing. Exhaustion and worry marked his face. He hadn’t bothered to tuck in his denim shirt and his hair, though damp from a recent shower, was totally unruly. He was past caring about himself. That bothered Katrina more than she thought possible.

He shrugged. “I might have managed an hour or so last night.”

“And before that?”

“It’s not important.”

“If you intend to fight Masters, you’re going to need your wits about you; that means adequate sleep.” She inspected him with analytical thoroughness. “I’d venture to say you haven’t eaten much recently either.”

“Food isn’t on my list of priorities.”

“That’ll have to change.”

Standing, she opened the refrigerator and gathered up the ingredients to make an omelet. “After we eat, I’ll call Donna. Perhaps, if I’m not around for awhile, she and Andre will be so busy managing the restaurant, they won’t have time to fight.”

Caleb’s eyes widened with a glimmer of hope. “Do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m not as good a deprogrammer as you think I am. I’m not perfect, and I have a whole lot of uncertainty about trying, but I guess I’m better than nothing. I’ll do what I can to help rescue Sarah.”

Katrina cracked open several eggs, then beat them vigorously with a whisk. “But you can’t question my methods or--”

She stilled her hand and dropped her gaze, her glasses slipped to the tip of her nose.

“Or,” he prompted.

“Touch me. You can’t touch me.”

“Touch you?”

“When you touch me, I can’t think straight.”

He smiled slowly. “I know the feeling.”

She lifted her gaze. Her eyes, peering over the rim of her glasses, were incredibly warm and intoxicating. They also brimmed with fears he couldn’t identify.

“I don’t want to get involved with you, Caleb.”

Caleb had the look of someone who had been slapped for no apparent reason. “Why?”

Because I can’t risk my heart, again. Nor can I risk Jessy’s heart. She needs a father badly. We both need love so desperately. And, God help me, you could so easily overcome my defenses and make me believe anything. But, what if you’re as phony as every other male in my life? Just because you care about your family doesn’t mean you can ever care for me. I can’t think of only today. You could hurt me. I couldn’t handle that type of hurt, and I refuse to let Jessy experience it.

She didn’t say any of this out loud. Instead, she pushed her glasses back in place and started chopping mushrooms for the omelet. “My reasons are personal. Do you agree to my conditions?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

Caleb let out a long breath. At this point, he’d agree to anything. Caleb, though, wasn’t sure if he could stick to such an arrangement. He was only a man with all the compulsion and fallibility of his kind. Just how the hell was he supposed to resist her?

* * *

After they ate, Katrina packed quickly. Preparing Donna and Andre for management, however, had taken a bit of doing. It wasn’t that they were incompetent; they just couldn’t agree on anything. Finally, after a full hour, she gave Donna and Andre a final set of instructions, hung up the phone in her bedroom, and returned to the living room. She found Caleb sleeping on the floor with one of Jessy’s stuffed bears tucked under his head. An intense wave of undiluted passion ripped through her. No, not just passion, longing. She didn’t want just his body or physical release. She wanted him to be as wonderful as he appeared to be. She wanted the integrity he had displayed earlier to truly be part of his make-up. She wanted to be able to trust him implicitly. Given her history, was that even possible?

She knelt down beside him, intending to wake him. Instead, she took in the sculptured planes of his face, the mesmerizing width of his shoulders. Her gaze shifted downward. His jeans fit perfectly, molding thick hard thighs and emphasizing that very virile part of him.

Swallowing hard, she put out her hand to nudge his shoulder, but found her thumb drifting across his firm mouth instead. His breath was warm, and she remembered the taste of his mouth. She wet her lips and imagined kissing him. Liquid heat spread through her limbs. Her hand moved downward, across his hard chest, then over his rigid stomach, halting just above his pelvis. She couldn’t help noticing his arousal and took a quick glimpse at his face. His breathing was rapid, but he hadn’t opened his eyes. With her hand still in place, she brushed her lips against his. God, how she yearned for more. Yet, she pulled away abruptly, knowing if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

Deciding to let him sleep until after Donna brought Jessy home, Katrina got to her feet and headed toward the bathroom, needing a splash of ice cold water. Halfway there, Caleb’s velvety voice stopped her.

“Kit,” he drawled, his tone devoid of all tell-tale traces of sleep.

She turned, heart pounding. “Yes.”

“If you want to touch, you don’t have to wait until you think I’m asleep. Remember, this non-touching condition is your rule, not mine.”

Her face felt hot. She couldn’t meet his gaze anymore than discuss what she had done. Instead, she ignored the entire situation. “I think I hear Donna’s van. Are you ready to leave?”

After what she had just done to him, Caleb was ready all right. Ready to pull her into the bedroom and stay there for the next twenty-four hours.

He got to his feet and rubbed his neck. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

* * *

“This a vacation, Mommy?” Jessy’s dark hair bounced as she squirmed within the confines of the car seat.

“No, sweetheart. Well, in a way, for you it is. You’ll miss a few days of school.”

Jessy’s brow wrinkled in a frown. “Don’t wanna miss school.”

“You can go with Danny to his preschool,” Caleb said, shifting lanes to avoid trailing behind a caravan of trucks. Huge clouds of pollutants darkened patches of the noonday sky while an unidentifiable odor invaded the air. Neither Katrina or Jessy seemed to notice. They were probably used to the expressway’s stench. “That is if it’s all right with your mom.”

“Me go, Mommy?”

“May I go,” Katrina corrected.

“Silly goose, you too old for school.”

“No, sweetie, I meant that you should say I not me.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Jessy said. Then after a slight pause, “Who Danny?”

“Mister McBride’s nephew.”

“She can call me Uncle Cal. All the kids do.”

“Me like having uncle,” Jessy interjected, before Katrina could decide whether or not that was a good idea. “Me play with Danny?”

“May I play with Danny,” she once again amended.

“Sure, you can play too.”

Katrina sighed.

Caleb laughed softly. “Don’t worry, she’ll catch on. Danny went through the me stage too. In fact, he corrects the younger kids now.”

“He’s four, right?”

“Almost five.”

Jessy pursed her lips thoughtfully. “He’s a big boy. Big boys don’t like little girls.”

“How could he not like such an adorable little girl?” Caleb refuted. “I know I do.”

A bright smile widened Jessy’s lips, and she initiated an animated conversation that lasted over fifteen minutes. Finally winded, Jessy plucked her Cabbage Patch doll off the seat next to her and held it close as she stared out the window.

Caleb had handled all of Jessy’s questions and observations with gentle consideration, actually paying attention to the child, rather than giving just token responses. Katrina couldn’t have been more impressed. It was going to be damn difficult keeping her emotions in check around such a paragon. Then again, she had once thought David Masters was a paragon. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Do you think the school will mind having a visitor for a few days?” Katrina asked after a small interval.

“My sister-in-law, Sue, owns the school. Half of it’s populated by McBride kids. Trust me, it won’t be a problem.”

Trust was the entire problem, Katrina thought. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Caleb at all. She wouldn’t be here if she thought he was a total scoundrel. She just didn’t trust him entirely. In fact, she viewed everyone and everything in life that way. Oh, she had the occasional slip now and then, like with Calloway. Who would have ever thought that such a fastidious, polite man would turn out to be so lewd, even dangerous? If Caleb hadn’t secured her mortgage, she would have had to give up the restaurant. The episode with Calloway only reinforced the realization that she wasn’t any better a judge of character than the rest of the women in her family had been. Not one Cante woman had picked a decent male partner. Refusing to be like the others, Katrina had built a shell around herself. She had dated occasionally, but nothing ever developed. Few men were willing to wait for the ice maiden to thaw. Masters, though, slipped through her defenses with soft words and sweet promises, and she had fallen for him without an ounce of skepticism.

Never again, she had vowed. But never was a long time, and loneliness was taking its toll. Katrina needed someone special, someone who was honest and kind, who wouldn’t care that she had made a mess of her life. She stole a quick glance at Caleb. Don’t even think it! she cautioned herself. Yet she found herself taking another look. Caleb had a good profile; sharp, chiseled. His hands, though, enthralled her. They were broad and strong with nicks and abrasions. It was obvious that he wasn’t a businessman, but just what did Caleb do for a living? As a matter of fact, just where the heck were they going? Suddenly, Katrina realized she had done it again: she had trusted without hesitation. She had placed herself and Jessy in his hands without asking a single question about his lifestyle. For all she knew, he could live in a tent. For God’s sake, she hadn’t even told Donna where she’d be.

“By the way,” he said as if reading her mind. “I left my phone number and address with Donna in case she needed you.”

“Um, I should have thought of that.”

“You had other things on your mind.”

Oh yes, things like undressing you with my eyes and stealing kisses. Out loud she said, “Where are we going?”

“Pocono area. My family and I own an apple orchard at the foot of the Blue Mountains.”

Katrina suddenly smiled. “McBride’s Orchards. I thought your name was familiar. My supplier uses your apples. There’s rarely a bad one in the bushel.”

“Thanks. We try.”

“Isn’t this your down time of year?” she asked more to hear him speak than because she was curious. She adored listening to his voice with its comforting drawl and distinctive masculine timbre. There was something soothing about it, something hypnotic.

“There’s never really a down time. We graft new trees in the hot house, ship to various suppliers, and prepare for spring planting. Of course, we still have a lot more time off now than during planting or harvest. I usually occupy myself by playing around with stocks and investments.”

“For the entire family?”

“No. I use my share of the profits for personal ventures. However, I haven’t been as active as I used to be. Danny takes up most of my time.”

“Then you don’t have any other children?”

“No. My wife didn’t care for children.”

Katrina paled. “You’re married?”

He lifted a brow as his mouth hardened into a thin line. “I’m not Calloway. I wouldn’t have touched you if I had been married.”

Relief rushed through Katrina along with a silent reprimand. She should have found out about his marital status before she had touched him.

“You’re divorced?” she asked, before she started to dwell on her own stupidity.

“Yeah.”

He didn’t elaborate, but pain darkened his gaze.

“It was bad, wasn’t it?” she said softly.

“Others probably had it worse, but I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt like hell.”

“I’m sorry.” She caressed his cheek with the back of her fingers, then as if having touched something incredibly hot, she jerked her hand away.

Caleb chuckled. “It appears this no touching stuff isn’t gonna be any easier on you than it’s gonna be on me.”

Katrina refused to acknowledge the truth of his statement. Instead, she said, “What’s going to happen when Sarah returns? She’ll want custody of her son.”

“And I’ll give him to her. It won’t be easy, but we’re a close family. I’ll probably still see Danny nearly every day. They have a place just about a mile away from mine.” Caleb ran his hand over his face. “We will get her back, won’t we Kit?”

“Yes,” she answered with more confidence than she felt in a long time. She was no longer terrified of going up against Masters. Having Caleb by her side made more of a difference than she could ever have anticipated.

* * *

The rest of the ride passed in silence as the breathtaking world of upstate Pennsylvania evolved. At first, the land billowed with timid hills and long stretches of winter brown farmlands. Then the Blue Mountains emerged, not overbearing, but enticing like the lure of Irish flute music. Bridges appeared every so often. Made of stone, they followed long, sweeping curves that stretched toward secluded valleys. Churches, also made of stone, as well as the occasional barn and farmhouse, completed the picturesque scene.

As the mountains loomed closer, Caleb turned off the turnpike. Soon, the Land Rover meandered over a narrow country road, bordered by an endless forest. Poplars, Buttonwoods, and an occasional Evergreen flashed by like an endless parade of wooden sentries. Watching them became as hypnotic as the lulling intensity of the rushing wind and murmuring heater. Before she knew it, sleep claimed her senses. When she was once more aware of her surroundings, the forest had given way to an orchard. Precise rows of apple trees, varying in height and appearance, stretched out on either side of a narrow road.

“Welcome back,” Caleb announced. “We’re just about home.”

“Mommy take nap,” Jessy explained.

Katrina straightened in her seat and stifled a yawn. “Sorry. I normally don’t doze off like that.”

Caleb tossed her a gentle smile. “No problem. It gave Jessy and me a chance to get acquainted.”

“I hope she wasn’t a talking machine.”

“Not at all. She was delightful. I think Danny’s going to enjoy having--” A frown severed Caleb’s speech as he rounded the bend and came upon a Victorian farmhouse and a circular drive littered with vans and cars.

“You have company,” Katrina announced.

“I was hoping I could get you and Jessy settled in before the horde descended. Unfortunately...” He let the sentence trail as he parked next to the house.

* * *

Becoming acquainted with Caleb’s family was more than a little exhausting. There were four couples and ten children, ranging in ages from six months to twelve years. There was something about them, however, that proclaimed they were McBrides. It was in their clear eyes, in their impetuous grins, and their exaggerated mannerisms. Caleb’s brothers especially resembled one another. Despite a variance in weight and height, they all had the same unruly hair, direct gaze, and country drawl. It was the warmth and genuine friendliness, though, that overwhelmed Katrina. Being an urbanite, she was used to cool demeanors and suspicious natures. It was more than a pleasant change; it was intoxicating.

Everything, in fact, was intoxicating. Caleb didn’t live in a house; it was a home with all the comfort and charm that the word implied. Everything was scrubbed and polished, yet nothing was fastidious. A menagerie of toys occupied one corner of the living room. Magazines and books were stacked on the hutch in the dinning room. A few glasses and several baskets that recently housed a variety of snacks, cluttered a long counter in the kitchen. Altogether, it gave the appearance of a well-cared-for abode that people weren’t afraid to live in. Katrina liked Caleb’s home. And for a little while, she sat at the kitchen table, sipped apple cider, and pretended she belonged. It was a pleasant, but short-lived fantasy.

“It has been real nice meeting you, Kit,” announced Matthew. Three years younger than Caleb, his full beard, beefy arms, and extra weight made him look five years older. “But we’ve come by to find out how we’re gonna get our Sarah back. What do you--”

“Whoa,” interjected Sue, Matthew’s wife. “You need a bit of quiet for this. Besides, there’s homework to be done.”

Groans rose from the older kids, but within moments the room cleared, leaving Katrina alone with five very determined, very anxious McBride men and two children.

Even that situation lasted for only a moment. Danny, a pint-sized version of Caleb, boldly seized Jessy’s hand and led her out of the room. “I got a new truck, wanna see?”

Jessy didn’t even look back.

“Um,” was all Katrina could manage under the brothers’ relentless stares. “I... um...”

Matthew’s smile oozed encouragement. “We ain’t gonna bite, little lady. We just wanna know how to go about getting our baby sister out of that hell hole.”

“Then you know where she is?”

“Yes,” supplied Luke. Next in line after Matthew, he was as tall as Caleb, but not as muscular. “We’ve hired a private detective to keep tabs on her whereabouts. That’s how we found you. He heard about your work through a friend of a friend.”

Katrina faced the McBride brothers on the opposite side of the trestle table. The three youngest sat on the bench. Matthew and Caleb stood behind them. They were so strong in their solidity that it made Katrina feel very alone. Standing, she folded her arms and turned toward the window. Miles of leafless trees stretched out before her, but beyond the trees was the endless swell of mountains jutting into a gray, angry sky. “How much did the detective tell you about me?”

“He said you were the best,” Luke answered. “He said you never failed.”

“That’s why Caleb went after you personally,” added Seth, the youngest by three minutes.

Seth’s twin, Jacob, nodded. “He wasn’t supposed to, but I think he was afraid the detective would screw things up.”

She turned and faced the McBride clan. She was about to admit something she never thought she’d have the courage to confess, but they deserved the truth before things went any further. “The detective did mess up. He didn’t have his facts straight.” Wetting her lips, she dropped her arms and straightened her shoulders. “I have failed.”

“A lot?” asked Matthew.

“Once.”

Caleb moved toward Katrina. “Everyone’s entitled to a mistake.”

“It’s-- I--” she began, started to cross her arms, but instead only clenched her fists and let out a breath. “Not in this line of work.”

Caleb was only inches away. “No one’s perfect, Kit. Besides, we’re the ones who’ll physically rescue Sarah. If anything goes wrong, it’ll be our own fault, not yours.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I’m not worried about the rescue. I’m worried about deprogramming Sarah. Masters is a monster, but he’s a damn intelligent monster. He knows how to make a convert completely loyal. He brainwashes members, sometimes resorting to hypnosis and drugs. He--”

“Go on.” Caleb encouraged when her voice caught.

“Oh Caleb,” she said as if she were speaking to him alone. “If I fail, it could mean Sarah’s death.”

“We already know that,” declared Seth in a tone that suggested she had insulted his intelligence.

“But you don’t know that despite all my successes with rescuing members from other cults, I failed when I came up against Masters. The one and only person I ever rescued from his cult committed suicide while I was trying to deprogram her.” She met the gaze of each brother in turn. “She slit her wrist, using a spring from the mattress padding.”

Katrina held up her arm and ran a finger down her wrist. “Not across like they show you in the movies, but downward, slicing open the vein in such a manner that it didn’t allow time for a rescue. She died before the ambulance arrived.”

Her voice turned raspy. A tear slipped heedlessly from beneath her glasses. “You don’t know that the woman was my sister, Jessica.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Something sharp siphoned the breath from Caleb’s lungs. “Oh Lord, Kit, I’m sorry.”

Katrina accepted his sympathy with a nod. “Concern over my daughter wasn’t the only reason I initially refused the case. I mean, if I couldn’t save my sister...” She let the sentence slip away, letting the brothers come to their own conclusions.

Matthew rubbed his beard. “We’re all sorry for your loss. But beating yourself up over it won’t bring her back. You have to remember your successes with people from other cults.”

“It doesn’t make up for my mistakes, but I didn’t tell you this for sympathy. I just wanted you to know my background. I’m not infallible. I’ll do my best, though. My very best.”

“We can’t ask for more,” Luke said, his tone laced with compassion.

Caleb rested his hand against the small of her back, barely touching yet emitting enough heat to scorch her senses. “Remember, Kit, we’re in this together. We’re not asking you to go after Sarah; we’re just asking you how to go about it.”

Katrina had to step away from him before she could focus enough to speak. “If I really thought that would have worked, I wouldn’t be here. We could have handled everything over the phone. When this goes down, you’re going to need someone with experience that can handle the unexpected. I have that experience.”

“I can’t let you risk your safety, or your daughter’s anonymity,” he said, facing her.

“I’ll be careful.”

“But--”

“There’s no buts, Caleb. I wouldn’t have agreed to help if I intended to do this only half way.”

Caleb’s voice was a tight thread of emotion. “If anything-- I mean, if Masters finds out that you-- What I’m trying to say is--”

“We’ll protect you and your daughter,” Matthew finished. “As of today, you’re part of our family, and we take care of our own.”

Katrina had forgotten what it was like to have the support of a family. And even though this wasn’t her family, they made her feel welcome, secure, no longer an isolated entity swimming against the tide of loneliness. Despite knowing it would be temporary, that she wouldn’t even contemplate accepting help, Katrina was still grateful for the offer.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Needing time to plan Sarah’s rescue as well as review the detective’s reports, Katrina arranged to meet with the brothers in the morning. While Caleb saw his siblings out, she searched for Danny and Jessy. She wandered through huge rambling rooms with stained molding, whitewashed walls and sturdy oak furnishings. Pictures of family dominated walls, but there was also a variety of watercolors and a display of Staffordshire china similar to hers. She felt instantly at home.

When she couldn’t find the children on the ground floor, she called out. Danny answered and she followed his voice up the back stairs to a renovated attic that flaunted a miniature kitchen set and a toy work bench, Nintendo and ping-pong table, stereo and big screen television. It was a child’s fantasy land, but what impressed Katrina more was the raised roof with its thick oak beams, the gleaming hardwood floor, and the wall of windows that displayed a succession of overlapping mountains. They weren’t huge or craggy, just gentle swells that mesmerized the eye and soothed the soul. Katrina felt the day’s tension drift into nothing, and for the first time in her life, she wished she didn’t live in the city.

“Mommy look!” squealed Jessy, holding up a pink fairy outfit. “Me play dress up?”

“May I play dress up,” Katrina automatically corrected.

“Silly goose, it won’t fit you.”

“No sweetie, I mean--”

“I teach her, Aunt Kit,” Danny said in an exceptionally mature tone.

Aunt Kit. Who taught him to call her that?

Leaning over Jessy’s shoulder, he whispered something. Honey-brown eyes grew wide as a soft flush crept into Jessy’s cheeks.

“Oh,” the child said and looked up at Danny with undiluted admiration. “I try.”

It appeared Katrina wasn’t the only Cante smitten by a McBride male. Considering her own amorous conduct, she was certain Caleb was well-aware of her feelings. She only hoped he didn’t realize that her affections went beyond mere attraction. Giving a man that type of emotional leverage was suicidal. She should know; she had first hand experience. When David Masters had gone after Katrina with soft words and hypnotic gazes, she believed he was a man of honor. The moment he had coaxed her into bed, she had discovered a cruel, mocking bastard who cared only for his own gratification. Afterward, he played with her mind and destroyed her soul.

What if Caleb wasn’t much better? She was certain he’d behave himself until his sister was home. After all, he needed Katrina. Later, though, would he be as cruel as Masters? Was she willing to chance another betrayal? To risk not only her own heart, but Jessy’s as well? She saw how her daughter responded to him. He appeared to be such an endearing man, but how much of it was real? They just didn’t know each other long enough to develop any type of emotional intimacy. If that were true why did her heart constrict every time he looked at her? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him, or analyzing her feelings for him? Maybe it was too soon for Caleb to feel anything, but Katrina had to face the fact that she could very easily fall in love with this man. Until she knew Caleb better, she simply couldn’t allow that.

Shoulders hunched, arms crossed, Katrina sighed. Only how in the world did she prevent it?

“I was wondering where you were,” Caleb’s strong voice erupted behind her.

With a small gasp, Katrina spun around. Standing there, legs braced apart, hands tucked into his pockets, he looked incredibly virile and intoxicating. It came to her that in just a few hours, the children would be asleep, and she’d be alone with Caleb and his erotic magnetism. Terror ripped through her system as she realized she had little resistance against this man.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

“No-- I-- um--” Dammit! Why did she always sputter like an infatuated adolescent when he was around. “You didn’t,” she managed to get out.

“Did Uncle Cal scare you?” Danny asked with uncanny perception.

“Of course not,” she answered in a tone that wasn’t as firm as she would have liked.

“You look scared,” Danny insisted, his head bobbing up and down.

“Mommy likes him,” Jessy said as if that explained everything.

“Everybody does, ‘specially girls.” Danny frowned. “But nobody scared of him.”

Katrina turned to the boy and forced a smile. “I am not scared, Danny.”

“Could have fooled me,” Caleb muttered.

Only then did Katrina realize that she had unconsciously backed away from him. Instant heat suffused her face. “This place is fabulous,” she said, refusing to acknowledge the accusation in his voice. “Looking at the house from the front you’d never guess a room like this existed. And the view--”

She broke off the moment Caleb moved toward her. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Kit, but you have nothing to fear from me.”

Katrina’s pulse throbbed against pressure points. Her breathing became shallow. “I am not afraid,” she denied once again despite an uncontrollable shiver.

Caleb groaned in exasperation. “Dammit Kit!”

“Don’t curse. The children,” she admonished.

“They’re at the other end of the room.”

Looking beyond Caleb, Katrina noticed that Danny and Jessy had raced to a far corner. It appeared that playing with building blocks had more appeal than adult conversation. She wished she could flee as easily, but Caleb’s direct stare imprisoned her as effectively as a pinned butterfly.

“Okay,” he announced, his look steady and incisive. “If you’re not scared, prove it.”

“And just how am I supposed to do that?”

“Let me see your eyes.”

“What?”

“Take off your glasses. We both know your eyes reveal your emotions like neon signs.”

Refusing to look like a coward, Katrina discarded her glasses and placed them on a nearby shelf. “Happy?”

Compassion spread over Caleb’s face. “Ah, Kit, I do frighten you. Why?”

“It’s not you. It’s--” She shook her head. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

“Why?” he asked once more.

“It’s a long story.”

“Maybe someday you’ll tell me about it.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Scaling Mount Everest would be easier than getting through to this woman. Caleb, though, believed she was well-worth the effort. “You’re safe with me, Kit. You don’t have to hide behind tinted glasses. You don’t even have to tell me why you’re scared. But you do have to believe I won’t hurt you.”

Her eyes brimmed with anguish. “Words are cheap, McBride. I’ve already been conned by the best, why should I believe anything you have to say?”

“Because it’s time you believed in someone. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You could break my heart.” She squeezed her eyes shut as instant regret washed through her. How could she admit such a thing? Now he would know he had the power to destroy her. Opening her eyes, she expected Caleb to look triumphant. Instead, he appeared as vulnerable as she felt.

“Did it ever cross your mind that you could just as easily break mine?” He didn’t wait for a response. “The kids are probably hungry. Care to help me with dinner?”

Stunned by his disclosure, Katrina couldn’t manage anything more than a nod.

* * *

As Katrina tossed a salad and warmed dinner rolls, Caleb prepared a Risotto of arborio rice, broccoli raab, toasted pecans, and shredded Parmesan cheese. She responded now and then to Caleb’s light chatter, but her mind was elsewhere. She simply couldn’t get his admission out of her head. Could it be that he was as susceptible to her as she was to him? After all, his divorce probably left its own legacy of pain. How did two very hurt people find their way to each other without risking hard-won peace of mind? Perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps the barriers stayed in place forever, and they ended up growing old, bitter, and very lonely. The thought was so depressing, Katrina lost her appetite.

“Don’t you like the Risotto?” Caleb asked as she pushed food around the plate.

“It’s delicious,” she said, averting her gaze. She didn’t want him to see how miserable she felt. She wished she hadn’t left her glasses in the playroom. Still, if she wore them now, she’d look like a coward.

“Me like-- I like hamburgers,” announced Jessy.

“Me too,” interjected Danny.

“I too,” Jessy admonished.

Danny slapped his head in imitation of a frustrated adult. “She has so much to learn.”

Katrina couldn’t help smiling.

“He’s four going on forty,” Caleb supplied with a grin of his own.

“I’ve noticed.” Katrina sipped a glass of iced tea. “I’ve also noticed you think we’re vegetarians.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No. I mean, we don’t eat meat every day, but it is part of our diet.”

“Then why a vegetarian restaurant?”

“After my grandmother passed away, I inherited the place. I couldn’t bring myself to move. Too many memories. At the same time, I couldn’t keep things the same.” She offered a half smile. “Too many memories. So I made some changes.”

“Considering the neighborhood is a yuppie haven, it should have been a gold mine.”

“It will be if I ever get the knack of restaurant management. I’m a chef, not an entrepreneur.”

“That’s why you should reconsider my offer. I’m not being conceited, but I do have a knack for finances.” His gaze captured hers. “Although I tore up the contract like you requested, I still have another original. I’d like to be your partner, Kit. Why don’t you wait until after Sarah’s home before you make a final decision.”

The urge to consider his offer nearly overwhelmed Katrina, but something inside stayed locked, impregnable. “Thank you, but no.”

Hurt briefly flared in his eyes. “Why? You were quick enough to consider an offer from Calloway.”

“I thought it would be just business, an agreement between two responsible adults with no strings attached.”

“It can be that way with us. We can make the lawyers write it up that way.”

“No. You’ve already helped me enough by taking over my mortgage. I don’t want to be obligated to you any more than I am.”

“It’s not an obligation. It’s business.”

“And what would you do if I got behind on my mortgage payments?”

He hesitated, blinked. “Foreclose, what else?”

“Would you really?”

He shifted his gaze to the floor, then looked back, sighing. “Okay, so I wouldn’t foreclose. I’d help you get back on your feet and make sure The Gazebo became a money-making proposition.”

“You’d help me. That’s my point. I don’t want your help, not in any shape or form.”

His eyes bore into her, blue and piercing. “You have a real problem with accepting help, don’t you?”

“It’s not a problem. It’s my way of surviving. When a Cante woman accepts help, she becomes obligated. Obligation turns into dependency and dependency into vulnerability. A vulnerable Cante woman is open game to men like you.”

“What do you mean, men like me?”

“Strong, determined, overpowering.”

“Do you really think that I’d used my strength against you?”

“Every time you’re considerate or nice, I can’t help wondering if this is some sort of game. Tell me, Caleb, are you setting me up to take a fall? Break the woman, get a prize?”

Katrina hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but there it was, a gauntlet that demanded a response. Instead of answering, Caleb pulled ice cream cups out of the freezer and handed them to the children. “How would you two like to have dessert in the playroom.”

“Yeah,” the children answered in unison, then disappeared from the kitchen within seconds.

Caleb lowered himself next to Katrina, irritation flickering in his blue depths. “You shouldn’t talk that way in front of the kids. They’ll learn soon enough about the type of men who enjoy breaking a woman’s spirit. I’m not one of them.” He breathed deeply as if trying to douse smoldering rage. “Damnation, lady, whatever did I do to make you think that of me?”

Thoroughly chastised, Katrina wished the floor would open and swallow her. “You did nothing,” she whispered, moving her gaze to some point beyond his shoulder. “I’m just having a hard time believing you’re for real.”

“I’m not saying I’m perfect, but I would never deliberately hurt you.” His thigh was an inch away; his body heat reached across that inch, penetrating her leggings to warm her skin.

“That’s what he said.”

“Masters?”

“Not just him. The women in my family have a knack for picking the wrong partners. My grandfather was a creep, and my father a bastard. Should I go on?”

He searched her face for long minutes “I guess you wouldn’t care to talk about them.”

“You guessed right.”

He studied her once more, his scrutiny steady, dissecting. “Surely you’ve known some decent men.”

“Andre, the parish priest.” A sad smile touched her lips. “Your brothers seem to be honorable.”

“Since I’m one of them, doesn’t that make me fairly honorable as well?”

She shifted her gaze back to his face. “Possibly. Only--”

“Only, what?” he coaxed, imprisoning her chin with his thumb and forefinger when she tried to turn away.

“If I misjudged them it wouldn’t matter. They can’t touch my heart.”

“I thought we’ve already established that it’s not just your heart at risk.”

“You could just be saying that.”

He stared at her, his jaw muscle twitching. “You’re not going to give an inch, are you?”

“I can’t afford to.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know you. I don’t know what you really want from me.”

He dropped his hand. A look of total defeat enveloped his chiseled features. “You’ve already agreed to help me rescue Sarah. I don’t want anything more.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

His words sounded sincere, but Caleb knew he wasn’t being entirely honest. In truth, he wanted a hell of a lot from Katrina Cante. He just wasn’t ready to admit what he wanted, not even to himself.

* * *

After cleaning up the dinner dishes, they played with the children, gave them baths, then put them to bed. It took three stories and two glasses of water before they finally fell asleep. Even then, Katrina feared Jessy would wake.

Katrina leaned against the doorjamb, watching her sleeping child. “She has never slept away from home before.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“Perhaps I should move her to my room, then if she wakes up...”

“She’ll be fine,” Caleb reiterated. “Remember, she was the one who asked for this room.”

Caleb was right. Jessy had gone into each of the six bedrooms, then chose a medium sized one with a canopy bed and a shelf of Madam Alexander dolls. It had apparently been Sarah’s room as a child.

“I guess I’m just being over-protective.”

“I can relate to that. After practically raising five kids you’d think I wouldn’t get so nuts about Danny, but I do. It goes with the territory.”

Katrina followed Caleb down the stairs to the living room where she tucked herself into a corner of an over-stuffed sofa. The fire that Caleb had lit an hour earlier still snapped and blazed, making the room warm and appealing. “You told me your mom had died, but where was your dad? He couldn’t have been working all the time.”

“He passed away a few years after my mother. I was nineteen at the time.”

Compassion welled up in her eyes. “That must have been rough on you.”

“I won’t pretend it was easy. It was as if I were living in a whirlwind. There was never enough time to think anything through. I’d make decisions, act on them, and pray it wasn’t a mistake.” He sat at the opposite end of the couch, one foot propped against the coffee table. “I’m learning that some mistakes can’t be fixed, that it pays to think rather than react. Sometimes, I--”

He broke off and laughed. “I’m rambling.”

“No, not at all. I like listening to you, Caleb.” It was her turn to smile. “I especially like your accent.”

“Accent? Hey, lady, around here you’re the one with the accent.”

Her smile widened. “I never thought about it that way.”

He looked at her strangely, taking her in all at once like a thirsty man downing a glass of ice water. Did she realize that this was the first time she had dropped her barriers since they had met? Did she know how irresistible that made her? Did she also know that he was falling for her very hard and very fast? He wanted to tell her, but she wouldn’t believe him. She had said words were cheap. But how did he go about showing her how he felt when he had agreed to keep his hands to himself? Was it too soon to break that agreement? Caleb didn’t have any answers, only a fierce need to gather her into his arms and kiss her breathless.

Suppressing the urge, he stood abruptly. “Coffee?” he asked.

“Tea, if you have any.”

“Apple spice?”

She looked at him. “How--”

“That first night, you asked the waitress for apple spice.”

“And you actually have some here?”

“I picked it up since then.”

“Are you always this thoughtful, Caleb McBride?”

His entire face spread into a smile. “When I’m inspired. And you, lovely lady, certainly inspire me.”

If Caleb meant for the comment to be disarming, he succeeded. Her resistance melted; her pulse throbbed. All her fears of giving into temptation were suddenly realized. She couldn’t remember why she shouldn’t become involved with Caleb. She couldn’t even remember the pain that David Masters had inflicted. All she could comprehend was Caleb’s sincerity and her own need to be loved. With more will than desire, Katrina lowered her gaze before Caleb realized that she was temporarily defenseless.

The rest of the evening passed in companionable silence, Caleb reviewed the status on various investments while Katrina read through the detective reports. The work forced her to concentrate on less erotic thoughts. Still, every now and then, she’d catch Caleb watching her, his gaze warm and intoxicating. No one had ever looked at her the way he did. He didn’t leer or appraise, judge or evaluate. He simply consumed her entire being like a rock absorbing the sun’s heat.

Provoked by his unrelenting scrutiny, Katrina’s body began to ache with needs that only Caleb could satisfy. Her nipples hardened, her inner core became moist and warm, anxious, ready, waiting. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine him moving above her, taking and possessing, giving her the type of fulfillment only a caring man knew how to give.

Fearing the consequences of such an act, Katrina didn’t give any indication that she was interested in anything but the case.

“Your detective does great surveillance work,” she stated as she watched Caleb move toward the fireplace to add another log. “But there’s nothing about the failed rescue.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“Okay, everything,” he mused as he adjusted the log. “I couldn’t find a detective that would help me kidnap my sister. I even went to the police, but they wouldn’t touch it, and our pastor could do nothing but pray.” Caleb shook his head. “That’s what really amazes me about this whole thing: those creeps took my sister away and brainwashed her, yet I’m the one who had gotten arrested.”

She joined Caleb at the fire and stared into the leaping flames and smoldering ashes. “What did you do, Caleb, exactly?”

His look held more defiance than regret. “I broke into Masters’ compound, dragged Sarah out, and locked her in a hotel room. I tried reasoning with her, pleading with her. I tried everything and anything. Within twenty-four hours, the cops found us. Sarah went back to Masters, and I went to jail. If she had bothered to show up at the trial, I’d probably still be in jail.”

“Risking kidnapping charges goes with the territory. The trick is to have the subject deprogrammed before the cops intervene. With professional intervention, the cops would have dragged their feet a bit. It’s a shame you didn’t contact me or another deprogrammer sooner.”

“Yeah, well, as usual, I reacted before I thought it out.”

He looked so dejected and miserable, Katrina couldn’t help touching him. She cupped his cheek with one hand, then tilted her head so she could look into his eyes. “It’s okay, Caleb. When you love someone, your first instinct is to protect. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Caleb slipped his hand over hers and closed his eyes. “Ah, Kit, thanks. All these months I--”

“Shh,” she said, “I know all about guilt and what if. Just let it go.”

Her arms went around his neck, offering only consolation, and that was all he sought, but it wasn’t all he felt. He held her as if she were a rare, exotic flower that could easily be crushed. At the same time, he trembled with the need to tighten his hold. He had never before experienced such passionate intensity, not even in his marriage, which had been a sham. Anita never had any feelings for him, but he had loved her thoroughly and completely. Still, there had never been this sense of urgency, this barely contained need to be in and around a woman, to experience her passion, and blend with her soul.

When Anita had left him, he had felt rejected, disillusioned. Just the thought of losing Katrina, however, cut through his heart, breaching a wound that only her continued presence could soothe. All this emotion, and he hadn’t even reached the fringes of love. It was too soon for that, wasn’t it? Perhaps his reactions were nothing more than that of a very virile man being without a woman for all too long. He didn’t really believe that, but he wasn’t ready to accept anything more. Katrina wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to get hurt.

At the moment, though, he couldn’t help responding to her femininity. He inhaled the flowery fragrance of her hair as well as the sensuous scent of her perfume. It made his head reel, made his senses tumble into realms he dare not explore. Then he noted the marvelous fullness of her breasts against his chest, the way her head fit the hallow of his throat. Her cheek felt cool and satiny where it met his fevered flesh, and he couldn’t help moving his hands over the sleek contours of her back, amazed by how right it felt to have her in his arms. He expected her to pull away; she didn’t. Instead, her hands began an expedition of their own, roaming over his back in long sweeping strokes that made him catch his breath.

“Ah, Kit,” he whispered, tightening his hold even as his mind urged him to pull away. She had asked him not to touch her, and he was definitely doing that. But she had initiated this, just as she had initiated that first kiss. How did he hold back when she continually urged him to take so much more?

Eyes closed, she kissed the corners of his mouth, then accepted his own kisses. They lingered on her cheeks, her eyes, down over the curve of her neck until he found his way back to her lips. At first, he brushed her mouth tentatively, unsure of how far she’d allow him to go. He tested and teased, not really kissing, but experimenting, offering a prelude to a kiss, trembling advances that deepened with each passing second. His tongue traced the outline of her lips, slipped across her parted mouth, pulled away, then ventured again.

Katrina’s rational mind insisted she stop. Only her rational mind wasn’t in control. She wanted what only Caleb could give, not just sex, but this tender intimacy and gentleness, this feeling of being cherished and adored. Maybe, it wasn’t real. Maybe, Caleb only kissed her because she so obviously needed to be kissed. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered, but the delicious heat coursing through her body.

His kisses grew in intensity, but remained taunting and gentle until she ended it. With a hunger she didn’t know she could experience, she fastened her mouth irrevocably to his. Their tongues met, quick, hot, fierce, taking and giving until their breaths came in small, short gasps.

Sweet, intoxicating tension twisted inside her, urging her to surrender every ounce of restraint. Her softness capitulated to his hard muscles. Her hands somehow became entwined in the thick masses of his hair. She wanted to pull him downward and feel his weight, feel that delicious grinding, tension against tension. Her hands moved over him, touching, testing, undoing his shirt from his waistband so she could sample his flesh. Her fingers dug into taut muscles, then over his hair matted flesh, then down to forbidden regions. All the while she kept kissing him, fevered, hungry kisses. The world spun. Her desire overcame common sense and reality as she sought for things she couldn’t comprehend, made advances that sent volatile reactions throughout her system.

Caleb sensed those reactions. Her nipples tightened against his chest while her hips pressed against his groin. Did she realize where they were headed? Dare he touch her in places that would send her spiraling to another level? Was she ready for what he wanted so desperately?

He didn’t know and was nearly past caring. Trembling hands reached under her sweater. Her skin felt silky and warm. He reached upward, cupping her breasts, tracing the lacy fabric of her bra, twirling his thumb around a rigid nipple until she moaned and twisted with reaction.

Her passion drove him to reckless abandon. He lifted her off the floor, his voice ragged with desire. “Bedroom,” he muttered between raspy breaths. “With kids around, we need privacy.”

The words cut through Katrina like a cold wash. What was she doing? She hadn’t meant for this to happen. How did it happen?

“No!” Her head jerked backwards, hair flying. She pushed at his chest, battled free of his embrace. He instantly released her.

“You promised not to touch me!”

It took Caleb an instant for the accusation to register. His arousal didn’t abate, and he utilized anger to control it. “Damnation, lady, I didn’t initiate this, you did! I’m not a saint that can resist the advances of a beautiful woman. Kiss me and I kiss back. It’s not me who’s the problem, it’s you.”

She spun away, unwilling to hear the truth. Caleb caught her arm, then stepped around her, blocking her escape. “Not yet.”

“Let me go!”

“No!” He grabbed her other arm. “If you don’t stop struggling, I will touch you, Kit. I’ll touch you in places that’ll set you on fire and make you forget your name as well as all those other godforsaken inhibitions that has half of you starved for sex, and the other half terrified of it”

Caleb tried to bluff her once; this wasn’t a bluff. She froze.

“Better,” he said and dropped his hands. “This can’t keep happening. I’m not the type to sleep with a woman simply for sexual release. At the same time, I never wanted a woman more than I want you. So, lady, I suggest its time we found out just what we want from each other.”

“You said, you didn’t want anything.”

“I was wrong. I look at you, Kit, and I lose control, but I don’t know how much is lust and how much is genuine emotion. If we ever hope to have any type of relationship, we have to figure out what’s happening between us.”

“Who said I wanted a relationship?”

“You didn’t use words.” His gaze shifted to his belt and zipper. The unfastened belt dangled off two loops. The zipper wasn’t just unfastened, it was broken, ripped in a frenzy of untamed desire.

“I didn’t do this,” he said, “you did.”

CHAPTER SIX

Katrina’s hands pressed her cheeks in mortification. “Oh God, what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing. Considering the circumstances, your responses were very normal.”

She stepped back, still staring at his zipper. “A normal woman doesn’t rip a man’s clothes off.”

“We were really into it, Kit.”

“But, I don’t do things like this. I’ve never...” Dropping her hand, she slumped her shoulders, and hugged herself tightly.

“I know,” he intoned softly. “How do you know? For goodness sake, I could be a lunatic, playing some sort of perverse game. Or I could be after the McBride fortune.”

“I already married a woman who was after everything and anything but me. I think I’d know if you were cut from the same cloth.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I guess it all comes down to trust.”

Her gaze met his. “We only met a few days ago; you really don’t know me as well as you think.”

“I know enough.” He bent his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen I’m not anxious to get hurt anymore than you are. I’ve been there and it’s not a place I care to revisit, but we’ve got to face the fact that the chemistry between us is mind-boggling. We have to do something about it if we want a relationship.”

“Are you saying you want a relationship with me?”

“I’m saying, it’s past time we found out exactly what we want from each other. That means you’re gonna have to open up and talk to me.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

Caleb’s expression became rigid, inflexible. “You don’t have a choice. If we fall into bed without knowing whether or not its more than lust, you’ll end up hating me. I don’t know exactly what I want from you, Kit, but I do know I don’t want that.”

She stared at his hiking boots - solid, sturdy, capable - like the man. “I’ll try.”

Caleb didn’t realize he had held his breath until it came out in a rush. “Good. I’ll make coffee, strong and hot.”

Sudden panic seized her. She couldn’t do this, not now with the heat of passion still throbbing in her veins. “Not tonight, Caleb. Please.”

“Then when?”

“After Sarah’s home.”

He cut the distance between them and, using his forefinger, tilted her chin upward, forcing her to look at him. “We won’t last until then. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“We can’t. Your brothers are coming at ten.”

“I’m dropping the kids off at school around eight. That’ll give us nearly two hours. It’s not much, but enough to get things started.”

“What if there is nothing more than chemistry between us?”

“We’re not animals. If that’s all it is, it’ll pass.”

Considering she acted like a feline in heat, Katrina wasn’t so sure about that, but she nodded and turned to the stairs. “Tomorrow,” she whispered.

* * *

“Mommy, wake up. Wake up! I gotta go school. Me... I ate breakfast and brushed my teeth.”

Katrina blinked several times before her daughter’s words registered. She pushed back the covers and slipped into her terry robe. “Okay, sweetie, I’m up.”

“Uncle Cal said to let your mom sleep,” Danny scolded from the doorway.

Hands on hips, Jessy cocked her head and tapped one sneaker bound foot. “My mommy has to fix my hair.”

Katrina glanced at the time: seven-fifteen. She should have been up an hour ago. Only she had spent most of the night pacing and had only fallen asleep a few hours ago in Jessy’s bed.

“Com’on, sweetie, get your brush and a ribbon. I’ll put your hair in a pony-tail, then I’ll take you to school.”

Giggling, Jessy handed her mother a sparkling green ribbon that matched the trim on her Lion King sweater. “Silly goose, you can’t go to school in your robe.”

Katrina smiled. “You’re the silly goose. I intend to take a quick shower and get dressed, y’know.”

“Don’t rush,” Caleb announced from behind Danny. “I’ll run them over.”

“It’s her first time in a strange place. I prefer to go,” Katrina returned, as she deftly arranged her daughter’s hair.

“Me not scared.”

Katrina crunched down to Jessy’s level. “I know, sweetie. I just want to go for the ride.”

“Okay, but I ride shotgun,” Jessy announced as she pranced out of the room.”

“Is that all right with you, Danny?” Katrina asked.

Danny’s chin rose with pride. “I’m the one who thought of it.”

“How did he get so mature?” Katrina asked as Danny ran after Jessy.

“He has younger kids around. Gives him that big-brother attitude, I guess.” Stepping into the room, Caleb’s gaze swept over Katrina, lingering on the shadows beneath her eyes. “I heard you pacing last night.”

“Then you must not have slept much either.”

“A few hours.”

“Yet you’re dressed and the kids are fed.” Guilt invaded her gaze. “I should have been up as well. I should have taken care of my daughter. She’s my responsibility.”

“Your daughter is very self-sufficient, Kit. She dressed herself. I only gave her some breakfast, which I had to do for Danny anyway. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to over-react. I’m just not used to having a helping hand.”

“You mean, you’re not used to accepting a helping hand. You better get used to it. It’s the way we live around here,” he said. “Besides, you overslept because I turned off your alarm. I wanted you to get whatever sleep you could.”

His thoughtfulness was never ending. How could she not trust this man? Because most men were thoughtful during the seduction stage of a relationship. But he could have taken advantage last night, and he didn’t. That said a lot about his character. Maybe, he was as honorable as he appeared to be. Maybe, it was time to lower her defenses, at least a little.

She went to him, touched his cheek with the back of her fingers and smiled. “You’re a very kind man, Caleb McBride. Thank you.”

With her hair tousled from sleep, her partially opened robe displaying the summit of a very deep cleavage, Caleb had all he could do not to pull her into his arms. The timing wasn’t only off, he sensed the change in her, the willingness to find her way through years of pain and mistrust. He refused to jeopardize that.

“If you’re coming, you better hurry or the kids will be late.”

Without another word, he bolted away, leaving Katrina to wonder why he suddenly seemed so agitated.

* * *

After driving the children to school, Caleb parked alongside his house and escorted Katrina into the mud room. He tossed his jacket on a hook and watched Katrina shrug out of her own coat. It was the first time he had ever seen her in jeans. Surprisingly, they weren’t two sizes too big. He could actually make out the curve of her buttock, the firmness of her thighs. Even her top seemed closer to her size. The boatneck textured sweater caressed her breasts and ended at the top of her hips. It wasn’t quite white, but a soft creamy color that contrasted nicely with her ebony hair. A soft fringe of bangs framed eyes that were clear, luminous, and very hypnotic. He was glad she stopped wearing those ridiculous glasses, but if she changed her mind, she wouldn’t find them. He had tossed them into the garbage bin.

“I like Sue,” Katrina stated as they entered the kitchen. “She seems really good with the kids.”

“She adores kids. She almost didn’t marry Matthew because they both wanted a brood, but she couldn’t have any.”

“What happened?” Katrina asked, trying not to notice how his stonewashed linen shirt strained against muscular biceps, or how his jeans hugged slim hips. Swallowing convulsively, she stared at the hardwood floor.

Caleb turned on a flame under the tea kettle, grabbed a couple of mugs and tea bags. “Matthew kidnapped her.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No lie.” Caleb pulled a covered platter out of the oven and placed it on the table. “There’s a little cabin about two miles from here that my parents started out in. When Sue refused to marry him because of her infertility problem, he held her captive until she changed her mind.” Caleb’s lips twisted into a grin. “I do believe he would have held her there forever if necessary. However, it all worked out. They married and four years later they adopted their first child. They now have three.”

“Wow!”

“The McBrides are a determined lot.” He absorbed Katrina with that piercing gaze of his. “We’re not quick to back down, and when we want something we go after it.”

He uncovered the platter and poured hot water into the mugs. “I saved you some French toast from breakfast. Eat up; we have a long morning ahead of us.”

The determination in his stance reminded Katrina of their agreement. She suddenly felt ill. Every Cante woman who opened her heart to a man ended up shattered or dead. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry. As a matter of fact, I wanted to go over those detective reports one more time before your brothers--”

“You’re not getting out of it. We are going to talk,” he interrupted. “Now eat. You hardly swallowed a bite last night.”

Shivers raced up her spine; her hands trembled. She camouflaged fear with anger. “I’m a grown woman, McBride. I’ll eat when I’m hungry.” She started to walk away. “And I’m not ready to talk about--”

Before she could utter another word, Caleb stepped into her path, twisted one hand into silky hair and pulled her mouth to his. His kiss was sudden, quick, hot. She instantly responded to his strength, to needs that have long been denied. She melted against him and moaned under an endless onslaught of dueling tongues.

This time, it was Caleb who broke away. Raspy breaths tore out of him. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “That was a reminder of why we have to talk. Give me an excuse to remind you again, and we won’t have use for words.”

She was beyond humiliation. Even mortification seemed like a distant relative. She’d have given anything for her glasses right now, but when she had searched the playroom, she couldn’t find them. “I must be a nymphomaniac.”

“Then you’re like this with every man you meet?”

“Of course not,” she denied, anger displacing the shame. “I told you before that it was just that one time-- Just--” Seeing the amusement in his gaze, she broke off. “It’s not funny.”

“When a practical virgin thinks she a nymph, it’s hysterical.”

Her breath came out in a rush. “Then why am I acting like this? You touch me and I turn into this sex-crazed creature I don’t even recognize.”

“You’re not the only one. It appears our hormones are exceptionally compatible.”

“Maybe we should just make love and get it over with. Then, perhaps, it won’t be on our minds so much.”

Something fierce and fiery flashed in his blue depths, then just as quickly vanished. “Don’t tempt me. Only I get the feeling once wouldn’t satisfy us. Besides, neither one of us wants just sex.”

She nodded. “It would turn something very beautiful into something terribly sordid.”

His grin didn’t center just around his mouth; it involved his whole face and magnetic eyes; it was the most appealing, genuine smile she had ever seen.

“I’m glad you realize it can be beautiful between us,” he said.

Her barriers crumbled a little more. Soon there would be nothing left but an eagerness to hand this man her life and her heart. “Not just beautiful, glorious.”

Her words were so sincere, it touched something inside Caleb, something that pulled him toward her. He brought his face close to hers, tilted his head and paused, taking in the warmth of her expressive eyes. He could make out a darker rim of color surrounding the honey-colored iris, the thickness of each individual lash, the faint lines at the corners that exposed the depth of life’s experiences. Her eyes drew him with promises of ecstasy he couldn’t imagine. Lord, how he wanted her. Suddenly, all his honorable words tasted bitter. He wanted to call them back, tell her the hell with the consequences, nothing mattered but their mutual gratification. She must have sensed his weakening resolve for she suddenly turned away and sat down in front of the French toast. “This looks great. Have any honey?”

Caleb blinked several times, swallowed hard, then opened a cabinet. “Honey, right, okay.”

While Katrina ate, Caleb kept his hands fastened to his mug and his eyes trained on the wall behind her. It had been freshly painted and stenciled the year before, but he detected a hairline crack in one corner that he’d have to patch. If only he could patch Katrina’s psyche that easily, but she was a complicated woman who had experienced too much pain.

Caleb was just as well acquainted with pain. A man didn’t lose his parents by age nineteen, raise five kids, and survive a loveless marriage without experiencing the emotion. Only, Caleb always had his family to fall back on. As his siblings grew, they helped shoulder the responsibilities of the orchard and each other, allowing Caleb to have an independent life. When things fell apart, his family offered love and support. Katrina didn’t have a family to rely on. She had pushed a lifetime of trauma into a secret compartment and locked it up tight. Somehow, he

had to help her pry open that compartment, air it out, and fill it with the sweet side of reality. Only then would they know if their attraction went beyond hormonal compatibility. Bull, the least he could do was be honest with himself. He already knew it wasn’t just about hormones. In truth, he was already halfway in love with her. How Katrina felt was a different matter entirely. And, dammit, this time around he wanted nothing less than full blown, unconditional, can’t-catch-her-breath, everlasting love. He caught the guarded look in her eyes, the tension evident in every taut muscle. Damn, why couldn’t anything in life be easy?

Once Katrina finished eating, he tossed her dish and their mugs into the sink and grabbed his coat. His arousal hadn’t abated one iota, and he knew that if he didn’t get some fresh air, he’d seduce her so fast, it’d make both their heads spin. “How about a walk?”

“Good idea.”

Caleb smiled at how quickly she agreed. She wasn’t in any better shape than he was. The two of them made quite a pair, lusting, needy individuals with a warehouse full of scruples and uncertainties. It was going to be an interesting walk.

* * *

Katrina filled her lungs with the sweetest, purest air she had ever inhaled, then coughed several times. “This isn’t natural, Caleb. If God had meant for us to breathe clean air, he wouldn’t have invented pollution.”

Caleb’s laugh was as exhilarating as the cool, brisk wind. There hadn’t been much laughter since they met. She wanted it to be a staple of her life; she wanted him to be a staple as well. Was it too much to ask?

“I know it’s a hardship, but take slow breaths. You’ll get used to it,” he teased.

She smiled. “Promise?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were a scout?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Does buying Girl Scout cookies count?”

“Afraid not.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to rely on your expertise to navigate the wilderness.”

“This isn’t exactly the wilderness.”

“If I can’t see a skyscraper, it’s wilderness.”

There was a brief silence, neither moved.

“Do you miss it? The city, I mean.”

She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Oh yes, fighting traffic, dodging muggers, and choking on the stench from the waste disposal plant is my idea of paradise.”

He moved forward, his rugged boots marking the ground. “If you feel that way, why haven’t you relocated.”

She shrugged. “Not enough motivation, I guess.”

Caleb didn’t say anything more, but he couldn’t help wondering just what kind of motivation she needed, and if he was the man who could provide it.

They crossed a stretch of grass, bypassed a dirt road that led to the apple orchard, then followed a path into the forest. Their feet sank into a springy compost of damp leaves, decomposing plants, and pine needles. Trees sprang up around them, stately American Beech and fragrant pines; tall, tapering spruces and thick muscular oaks. A squirrel darted behind a group of twigged shrubs; a red-tailed hawk, visible through the canopy of naked branches, slid across the winter gray sky that still hadn’t released any precipitation. The fragrant air was even more intoxicating amidst the winter foliage, but it was also colder. Katrina plucked pink angora gloves and a beret out of her pocket, then tucked her hair under the hat and donned the gloves. The matching accessories complimented her burgundy hooded anorak and made her look all of eighteen.

As Caleb put on his own thickly lined gloves, he reminded himself that Katrina wasn’t anywhere near eighteen. Still, there was a naiveté about her that suggested the innocence of that age. Despite her outward skepticism, she tended to be credulous. Lord, she hadn’t a clue to Calloway’s intentions until he had spelled them out. She even followed Caleb here without really knowing all that much about him. It could have been a setup, a lie just to get her alone. For all she knew he could have been a homicidal maniac. She was walking a very taut line between natural instincts and forced cynicism. It was this unique combination of strength and vulnerability that had Caleb walking a tightrope of his own. He wanted to tuck her into his pocket and keep her from harm, but she wasn’t about to allow that, and he didn’t have any right to offer it. At the same time, she needed someone in her life, a companion who’d share both her anguish and elation, her defeats and accomplishments. Hell, it wasn’t just Katrina who needed that; he did as well, and he suddenly realized that he wanted Katrina to be that someone.

“You must have enjoyed growing up here, Caleb. It’s like a bit of heaven.”

“Yeah, it is,” he returned, matching her slow, relaxed pace. “I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”

“How would you know if you never have?” she reflected.

A shadow darkened his gaze. “I spent a year in New York, playing with the stock market, scouting new investments. I prefer country life.”

She paused, searched his eyes with such intense thoroughness, it made him feel like an insect under a microscope. “That was where you met her, wasn’t it?”

“Her?”

“Your ex-wife.”

“Yeah, it was. How did you guess?”

“There’s something about the way you looked just now.”

“I’m that transparent, huh?”

“I wish.”

“Ditto, lady, I wouldn’t mind seeing through you either. Then we’d both know exactly where we stood with each other.”

“That’s what we’re doing now, isn’t it? Seeing where we stand.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re trying for. The ticket, though, is total honesty. Can you handle it?”

“I can, if you can.” She took a breath and let it out in a rush. “Tell me about your divorce?”

Caleb knew a challenge when he saw one. If he expected her to open up, he damn well better do some sharing of his own. “It wasn’t really a big deal,” he said after a second of hesitation.

“Marriage is always a big deal.”

“Not when you meet a woman on Monday and marry her on Friday.”

“You what!”

“Las Vegas wedding; Mexican divorce.”

“You don’t seem the type to...”

“Make a complete and utter fool out of myself,” he finished for her. “Well, I did.”

The pain in his expression belied his flippant attitude. Katrina wanted to put her arms around him and steal away his anguish. Only touching led to sensations that were better left alone.

Noting a boulder at the edge of her peripheral vision, she lowered herself to it. “You’re not a fool, Caleb. And any woman who could ever make you feel that way is the real fool.”

“Perhaps, but if I had taken five minutes to catch my breath, I would have realized what she was after.”

“Money?”

“That, and an American citizenship. She wasn’t extremely beautiful, not like you,” he added, unaware that the remark warmed Katrina down to her toes. “But she was attractive with a Latin flare and the ability to make a man’s head swim. I simply wasn’t prepared for someone like her. I had spent most of my life rearing kids, and then building my own portfolio along with managing the family business. I didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to women.” “I can’t believe that, you’re so... so...”

He lifted an amused brow, curious to see what she thought of him. “Yeah?”

“Virile.”

He couldn’t help a brief laugh. “I wasn’t implying I was a monk. I had a few sexual experiences, but nothing serious. Not that I had one night stands either, I just picked women who wanted relationships without commitment. By the time Anita came into my life, I was ready to settle down.”

Katrina picked up a dried leaf and tore at the edges. “When did you realize she didn’t love you?”

“A couple of days. Once we consummated the marriage, she wouldn’t let me near her. She confessed that the only reason she tolerated such a country bumpkin was because she was desperate. Until then I didn’t know she wasn’t an American citizen. Having been educated by missionaries, she didn’t even have an accent.”

Caleb went on to tell Katrina that Anita refused to divorce him until her citizenship came through. Unwilling to wait that long, he used his influence to get her a green card, then bought her off with an exorbitant amount of money. Before he had a chance to really dwell on his stupidity, Sarah’s fiancee’ was killed in a car accident about three weeks before their wedding.

“Sarah’s tragedy prevented me from drowning in self-pity.”

“It sounds like you didn’t have time to heal.”

He exhaled softly. “I healed. It took a lot longer than I had anticipated, though. I kept telling myself that love doesn’t happen overnight, that what I had felt for Anita could only have been skin-deep. I was wrong. I loved her instantly, and I still loved her after finding out she was a fraud. It took me a good while to get over her. Guess there’s no rhyme or reason to the ways of the heart.”

“You’re right. Love is as fickle as cupid’s arrow. For some it’s a slow, steady process, and for others it’s just suddenly there and can’t be denied no matter how destructive.”

“Is that experience talking?”

He handed Katrina an opening that she reluctantly accepted. Yet she didn’t steer it in the direction she should have. She wasn’t ready to expose herself to that much pain. “Sometimes love can be a curse. At least it always has been for Cante women.” She paused, tore at the leaf a little more. “My grandfather was abusive. I don’t mean he spent every waking minute beating up Nonna. For months, sometimes years, he’d be this devoted, adoring man, then something would set him off and Nonna would suddenly appear with a black eye or a broken arm. She’d always cover it up with a lie. But, I knew. We knew. Jessica and I would hear him screaming at her. We’d hear her crying.”

Caleb didn’t say anything, but he lowered himself next to Katrina and placed his arm around her trembling shoulders. She leaned into the comforting embrace, unable to resist his strength. “She cried at his funeral. I couldn’t understand how she could love a man like that, how she could miss him. It didn’t make any sense.”

“She was raised in different era, Kit. Some women accepted abuse as part of life.”

“My mother wasn’t of the same generation, yet she tolerated another form of abuse. My father didn’t physically hurt her, but he wouldn’t commit to her either. I was about six when he left. I heard him tell her that he didn’t love her, that he had never loved her. When she pleaded for him to stay, he told her to drop dead.” Katrina’s voice became a hallow thread of sound. “She did. She simply stopped existing. She wouldn’t eat or drink or talk. Before anyone could help her, she had slipped away.”

Katrina felt Caleb’s body tighten with anger. Her own anger had died long ago, leaving just a bitter aftertaste and an inability to comprehend the selfishness of most males.

“He came to the funeral, y’know. I think it was to appease his guilt or something.”

“You must hate him.”

“I used to. Now, I don’t know. I’m just sort of numb about it all.”

“Did you ever see your father again?”

“Jessica did. She searched for him. She just couldn’t believe he didn’t love us.”

“What happened?”

“He brushed her off.”

“Bastard!”

“He was very much a bastard. Because of his rejection, Jessica fell for the first guy who had showed her a little affection.” Pausing, she twisted the tattered leaf stem between her fingers until it dissolved into fragments. “He was a member of Masters’ cult. I didn’t know that at first. As far as Nonna and I were concerned, she simply disappeared. We filed a missing persons report, but you know how that is. Nothing came of it. Nonna didn’t have the money for a detective so I quit culinary school and went looking for her.”

“How old were you?”

“Eighteen.”

Caleb whistled softly. “You were just a kid.”

She shrugged. “Someone had to do it and Nonna was too old. Anyway, soon enough I discovered Jessica was in a cult, but I didn’t know which one. While searching for my sister, I got involved with deprogrammers and learned the trade. Before I knew what had happened, I wasn’t just searching for Jessica. It wasn’t what I really wanted to do with my life. I just didn’t know how to stop doing it. There were so many people who needed my services. And, well, Jessica was out there. I refused to give up.”

“How long did it take before you found her?”

“Eight years.”

“It must be impossible to deprogram someone after that long.”

“It’s not. Cult doctrine is so fallible, so paper thin. It’s really not that hard to disprove it. It just takes a few days of intense deprogramming. With Jessica I couldn’t break--” Katrina felt the familiar burning behind her eyelids. “She told me things that--”

She shook her head, fought back tears. Katrina wasn’t ready to go there. She doubted she ever would be ready.

Pulling herself from his embrace, she took several steps away from Caleb. “I’m freezing. Let’s go back.”

Caleb could almost see the barriers slamming shut around her. He couldn’t allow it. At the same time, he didn't want her to get sick. “We’ll finish this inside. We still have time before my brothers arrive.”

“There’s nothing more to tell, Caleb. My sister died because I slipped up, because I didn’t think to check the damn mattress. There was nothing else in that room. There wasn’t even a window. I thought she’d be safe. I was wrong. Fatally wrong. End of story.”

“There’s more to this, Kit. What about David Masters?”

Her chin quivered, her eyes became liquid pools. “He... He was a mistake.”

“Go on.”

“I’m cold.”

He grabbed her hand, interlacing his fingers through hers. “Tell me about him while we walk.”

They took several steps. Katrina didn’t speak.

“Kit?”

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Tears spilled over wind-burned cheeks. She swiped at them angrily. “It’s too hard.”

“I know, love. I know, but it’s important.”

She yanked her hand from his and turned away. “You wouldn’t understand. I don’t even understand. Let it go.”

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her back to him. “Dear Lord, Kit, how bad was it? What the hell did he do to you?”

The genuine concern in his tone unnerved Katrina. Memories she had successfully buried came rushing back, tormenting memories of humiliation and stupidity, of deceit and heartbreak. She had never spoken to anyone of that time, and she couldn’t speak of it now, but the anguish of those days also returned and she couldn’t hold back a sudden onslaught of sobs. They came from the depths of her being, huge racking things that had no boundaries and even less mercy. They tore through her, reminding her of other times she had cried: dark, lonely times when no one was around to hear or care.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, gathering her against him. “It’s okay. Ah Kit, it’s okay.”

She wanted to tell him it wasn’t okay. She was being ridiculous, immature, but the sobs were relentless. They rippled through her, making her alternately hot and cold, making her chest ache and her eyes burn. She buried her face against his jacket, wrapped her arms around his waist, holding onto him as if he were an anchor in her own personal storm.

Caleb ran a hand up and down her back, muttering sympathetic words even as he cursed himself for bringing her to this point. But he cursed David Masters even more. The man didn’t just break Katrina’s heart, he shattered her psyche. How could he have done that to any woman?

“Shh,” he murmured. “Enough. He’s not worth it. Shh.”

“I... I know.” she muttered against his chest. “This is ridiculous. It happened so long ago.”

Using his forefinger, he tilted her head upward. He couldn’t quite credit what he saw in her eyes, but it gutted him. “Oh Lord, Kit, you haven’t healed at all, have you? You’re still in love with Masters.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

“That is the most ridiculous remark I’ve ever heard,” she refuted, sniffing through the last of her tears.

“I see it in your eyes.”

“What! What could you possibly see?”

“Love. It’s there. I’m not blind.”

Katrina didn’t recognize the emotion swelling inside her until he had named it. Only, his assessment wasn’t completely accurate. She was in love all right, but not with Masters; she loved Caleb. The feeling was intense, instant, uncontrollable. An emotion she couldn’t fight any more than she could admit aloud; at least not until Caleb returned her love. Was that even a possibility? Sure he wanted her body, but would he be willing to take on her emotional baggage, her daughter, her financial problems? She refused to ask that of any man.

Katrina pulled away from him, her face tear streaked, her nose clogged. She searched her pockets and couldn’t find a tissue. Seeing her dilemma, Caleb offered her a handkerchief.

“Thanks,” she said, plucking off her gloves before swiping at her wet eyes and nose, then tucking both the handkerchief and gloves into her pocket. “Perhaps, you’re right about not healing, but you’re wrong about still being in love. How could I love a man who was responsible for so much torment?”

“Sometimes we can’t control who we care about.”

“Believe me, David quite effectively killed any and all emotion. I don’t love him. I haven’t for a very long time.”

“Then what did I see?”

“How should I know?” she lied.

Considering Katrina avoided his gaze, Caleb realized she wasn’t being totally honest. The part about not loving Masters rang true. He was no longer sure what he had seen in her eyes. Could it have been a reflection of his own emotions? For he suddenly realized that he loved Katrina, loved her with a depth and profoundness he had never felt for any other woman.

“Are you okay?” Katrina asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

She cocked her head, thoughtfully. “You look sort of...” “I’m fine,” he interrupted, before he blurted out his feelings and scared her back into her shell. “It’s you I’m concerned about. You’ve been through a lot, Kit.”

“Hey, in today’s world this is nothing, not even enough material for a talk show.” She ran her knuckles over his cheek and jaw. “But, thanks for listening, for letting me cry. I needed that.”

As always her touch ravished his senses. He caught her hand and kissed her palm. It was no longer bandaged, but he tasted the saltiness of her scar; it reminded him of other scars, those lacerating her heart.

“We’re making progress,” he said, weaving his fingers through hers. “But we still have a ways to go.”

Katrina didn’t answer. She didn’t know if she had the emotional fortitude to crawl through any more memories, especially not those involving Masters.

* * *

Matthew McBride greeted Caleb and Katrina with mugs of rum laced coffee.

“Isn’t it a little early for this? Aren’t you a little early?” Caleb asked, once they had settled around the trestle table.

“Yeah, but it’s a good thing I am. Where the hell are your brains? It’s barely above freezing out there, and you go and take this city gal into the forest for a stroll. Looks like she’s getting sick to me.”

“I’m not,” Katrina refuted.

“Sounds like she’s getting a cold, too.” Matthew glared at Caleb, then offered Katrina a gentle smile. “You just drink up. That rum will take care of you.”

Katrina didn’t have to be told twice. Matthew might have it wrong about why she looked like hell, but the hot, soothing drink did make her feel better.

After pouring himself a mug of coffee devoid of any liquor, Matthew hopped up on the counter. “So do we have a plan ready for Sarah’s rescue?”

Before Katrina could answer, Seth, Jacob, and Luke stomped through the kitchen door. Several more mugs appeared and Katrina soon found herself surrounded by virility and strength. She had never felt more secure. It was an emotion she could easily get used to.

“I’ve read over the detective’s reports,” she began. “From what I can see, the Guardians--”

“The what?” Caleb interrupted.

“Guardians.” She stood, placed her empty mug in the sink, then leaned against the counter. “That’s what Masters’ cult is called: Guardians of the Divinity.”

Matthew stirred sugar into his mug. “Funny, the detective never mentioned it.”

“Only cult members are aware of the name.”

“Then how did you find out about it?” Matthew asked.

“That’s not important,” she said.

Caleb heard the tremor in her tone and knew it was very important. Only, before he could pursue the issue, Katrina began to lay out a rescue plan.

Having realized that the cult’s recruiting pattern included visiting college campuses on a rotating basis, Katrina concluded that the University of Delaware was due for a visit within the next two weeks. Along with the brothers, she intended to pluck Sarah off the campus and bring her home. Only, this time Katrina would pull a few strings to make sure the law used every conceivable stalling tactic before starting a kidnapping investigation.

“I’ll get the detective to survey the university’s campus. At the first sign of the Guardians, we’ll go after Sarah.” Caleb said. “Anything else?”

“A place where I can deprogram Sarah. It has to be close by because we’ll need to take shifts watching her. She can never, ever be left alone. The room should be windowless with a safety cage over a ceiling light, steel plates must cover every outlet and the only furnishing should be a foam mattress.”

Seth and Jacob offered several suggestions, but Matthew’s voice caught everyone’s attention. “The cabin,” he said.

“Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “The windows in both the bedroom and bathroom are still boarded up from your escapade with Sue, aren’t they?”

Katrina remembered what Caleb had said about Matthew and Sue. Somehow she couldn’t see this down-to-earth man doing something so fanatical. Then again, love often made people do foolish things.

“It sounds great,” Katrina said, “but I’d like to take a look at it.”

“As soon as all the safety precautions are installed, we’ll walk over. It’s not far.” Caleb moved toward her and slipped an arm around her waist. She accepted the closeness without protest. She liked the feel of him next to her, the pressure of his arm, his clean outdoor scent. She could see herself living here, being part of his family, loving him, bearing his children. She could see it all so clearly, but she knew it was only a fantasy. It would be too perfect and nothing in life was ever perfect.

“That’s it, then,” Caleb said.

“Yes, it is,” Katrina confirmed as a sudden wave of depression flooded her. “So I guess I’ll be going home until you hear from the detective.”

Something akin to panic flashed in Caleb’s gaze. “You can’t do that.”

“There isn’t any reason for me to stay until we’re ready to put our plan in action.”

“That’s going to happen in just a couple of weeks. Do you really want to uproot Jessy just when she has settled in. You’ll take her home, only to bring her back yet again.”

Relief came as quickly as the depression had. She wasn’t ready to leave Caleb. Then again, she doubted she ever would be ready. “You have a point. But I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not. Besides we have things to discuss, your fee for one, the possibility of a partnership for another.”

Katrina pinched her lips in annoyance. “I told you, I’m not interested--”

“Partnership?” Matthew interjected, latching onto the one word.

Caleb didn’t take his eyes off Katrina even though he spoke to Matthew. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

Matthew looked from one to the other, then suddenly grinned. “Oh, so that’s how it is.”

Katrina couldn’t comprehend the look that passed between the brothers. “What?”

Other grins emerged.

“Am I missing something?” she asked.

No one answered, but they continued to grin even as they gathered up their coats and filed out.

“What was that all about?” she asked once she was alone with Caleb.

He closed the door to the mud room and turned to Katrina. “They think something’s going on between us.”

“You should tell them they’re wrong.”

“Are they?”

“We haven’t been intimate, Caleb.”

“That’s just a matter of time.”

“How can you be so sure? We both agreed that neither of us wants just sex.”

“I already know it’s not just about sex.”

“Then what is it about?”

Dare he admit the truth? Too soon. She’d never believe him. “Possibilities,” he said.

“I don’t understand.”

“Before I sleep with a woman I need some level of emotion. I want to know the woman’s going to be there come morning, that there’s the possibility of love. What about you, Kit? Do you need to be in love before you sleep with a man? Is that why you wouldn’t sleep with me? Is that why there has never been anyone but Masters?”

“I’m not sure. Before David I had intended to wait until marriage. Obviously, I didn’t stick to my plan. Afterward, I thought I was frigid.”

He lifted an amused brow. “Frigid?”

She smiled back. “Of course that theory has been shot to hell.”

“I’m not complaining.” He took several steps toward her, hesitated, then took several more. “Only, where does that leave us, Kit?”

“I don’t know?” She crossed her arms and stared at her sneakers. “Perhaps, we should stop doing so much analyzing and let things progress naturally.”

“Perhaps,” he said, wondering if it was time the natural progression of things had a little assistance; knowing she had so much more to disclose before he could push for intimacy.

“Kit,” he began, intent on breaking through her constant stoicism. “how did you know the cult’s name?”

“It’s not import--” she began only to have him cut her off.

“Yeah, it is. I know it is. What I don’t know--” he broke off as her complexion lost all color, as the enigma rearranged itself into a recognizable pattern. “You were a member, weren’t you?”

She didn’t look up; didn’t answer.

“How did it happen?” he continued, knowing her silence meant affirmation. “You knew all the pitfalls. How could you possibly be fooled?”

Silence.

Slipping his finger under her chin, he forced her to look at him and hardened himself against the anguish in her gaze. “Answer me.”

“I’m only human,” she returned, her voice barely audible. “After eight years, I finally found Jessica and infiltrated the cult, hoping I could persuade her to leave. Only, my grandmother passed away before I made any headway.” She paused, turned away from Caleb, hunched her shoulders, and lowered her head once more. “I fell apart. My grandmother was all I had, and Jessica was distant, acted like a stranger. But everyone else in the cult was so compassionate, so caring, especially Masters. I just wasn’t able to fight--”

Trembling hands covered her face. “I was such a fool, an idiotic, naive fool.”

Compassion spread through Caleb. He instantly pulled her to him, molding himself against the length of her back. “You were never a fool, only vulnerable. I wasn’t condemning you. I’m sorry if I made it sound that way. Sarah had a family, had all the support anyone could ever hope for, yet something drew her to Masters. It must have been so much harder for you.”

His tenderness reached down inside and healed wounds that she didn’t know still existed. Her eyes filled unexpectedly. Refusing to start blubbering yet again, she distanced herself from Caleb and busied herself with rinsing out mugs and placing them in the dishwasher. “It’s over. I survived.”

He took a mug from her hand, settled it on the counter, and pulled her against him once more. It was like trying to hold a wooden plank. “Tell me the rest.”

“There’s nothing more to tell.”

“Don’t, don’t lie. I know there’s more.”

“No, nothing.” She stared at his chest, focusing on the rise and fall of taut muscles, wishing her words were true.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see my eyes and know.”

“Know what?”

Silence lingered for a moment, then she lifted her gaze and leaned into him, surrendering. “My shame.”

He touched her eyelashes, the curve of her cheek, the pout of her lips. She shivered beneath that touch, shivered and yearned for his love.

“Don’t be ashamed, Kit. No matter what happened, never be ashamed. The past doesn’t matter.”

“Then why are you forcing me to relive it?”

His lips brushed against her forehead. His hands settled on the small of her back, tightening, pulling, until their hips touched. Instantly, fire raced along his limbs and settled in his groin. “It’s the only way to stop feeling ashamed. Let it go, Kit. Talk to me, and let the past go.”

“I am talking to you, but it’s hard... so hard...” She draped her hands over his shoulders, kissed him lightly on the lips, amazed at how quickly his body responded to her every move, adjusting and shifting so that each part caressed and tantalized. “I need a breather, Caleb, please. I need to collect my thoughts. I need...”

Her tongue slipped over her lips, wetting them seductively. “I need to forget just for a little while. Kiss me, Caleb. Make me forget.”

It was a simple request, but one he shouldn’t honor. She was dissembling. Yet, how did he refuse such beckoning eyes, such tempting lips? How did he refuse his own insatiable hunger? Without another word, his mouth found hers, crushing her lips in one hard motion.

The past faded, leaving heat and hunger, urgency and need. She felt so perfect in his arms. And her scent-- Lord, her scent was like inhaling summer. Sweet and endless. Something electric crackled around them. Heat formed between them.

He wanted to pull her to the floor and tear at her clothes. He wanted to part her creamy thighs and taste her passion. He wanted to possess her, brand her, make her never want another.

It didn’t matter what he wanted. Only Katrina mattered. Only winning her heart and healing her soul mattered.

When he pulled away, her eyes were closed and her body swayed against him as limp and languid as a rag doll.

“Again,” she whispered.

The urge to oblige nearly overcame him, but his watch alarm severed the impulse. “Soon. Right now, I have to pick up the kids. Want to come?”

Exhaling slowly, she opened her eyes and bolted backwards less her passion riddled body attacked him like a crazed feline. What would he do if she told him to take her, here and now?

Instead, she acted normal as if her knees weren’t made of rubbery and her hormones weren’t threatening to take control of every last shred of common sense. “Jessy feels comfortable enough with you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to call Donna. See how things are going? Tell her I’ll be here awhile.”

“Call whomever you want, Kit. Make yourself at home.”

Before Katrina could comment, he cut the distance between them, took her face between his large palms and captured her lips once more. This time, his kiss was tender, undemanding, yet, somehow immeasurably possessive. He broke away slowly, then caressed her hair. “I’ll be back.”

Watching him walk away, Katrina finally accepted that Caleb McBride was the type of man who’d always come back. If he fell in love with her, he wouldn’t desert her, or abuse her, or lie to her. Love, though, was an elusive thing. She couldn’t force him to care about her. And she didn’t know if she could share Caleb’s belief that the possibility of love was enough for a sexual relationship. She also didn’t know if she could walk away from Caleb without making love. Part of her wanted Caleb to take the decision from her hands, to simply overpower reason with tender words and infinite persuasion. It wouldn’t take much persuasion. Katrina simply didn’t have any fight left.

Only, over the next few days Caleb didn’t make any overtures. It wasn’t that he ignored her, he couldn’t have been more attentive. They shared household chores, visited local sights, and toured the orchard. Katrina learned about grafting trees and identifying the various types of apples. Caleb also introduced her to finances. He showed her what to look for in a potential investment, how to negotiate a contract, and how to manipulate stocks. She preferred the kitchen, though, and during spare moments she confiscated bushels of apples that she turned into applesauce. She created a startling variety, from cinnamon spice to a blend of pears and apples, bananas and apples, even apricots and apples. Caleb’s pantry overflowed with her creations until he finally shared the jars with his family. They were quick to praise Katrina and even quicker to include her in their lives. She went to lunch and the mall with Caleb’s sister-in-laws. She even purchased a few outfits that were her actual size. The urge to hide behind glasses and loose clothes fled along with her self-consciousness.

Katrina’s happiest moments, though, occurred during her morning strolls with Caleb. The forest quickly became a familiar, endearing place where they exchanged experiences. She told him about her childhood, playing in alleyways, avoiding drug dealers, using elaborate fountains as swimming pools. He talked about hiking and camping, working the orchard from dawn to dusk, raising children while still a teenager. They discovered a shared interest in history and impressionist painters, computers and Doris Day movies. Through it all, he kept his distance, never touching her or giving any indication that he wanted anything more than friendship. It appeared, he no longer desired her. Katrina didn’t know what she did to cool his ardor so effectively, but she wasn’t about to throw herself at him like she did so many times before. She still had some pride left. In the meantime, she accepted whatever affection he offered, storing it up like a squirrel who knew they would eventually have to face a very long hard winter.

Katrina didn’t know that Caleb’s reticence wasn’t because he didn’t desire her, but because he feared that even the most casual touch would lead to so much more. His need to be in and around her had become unbearable. He couldn’t stop his racing pulse any more than he could quench his passion. He’d look at her hair and envision his fingers combing silky strands. He’d study her lips and remember their taste, their yielding softness. He’d glance at her body and would feel a passion that would make his heart pound and his head reel. Yet, he wanted her to make the first advance, to give him some sort of signal that she was ready to take their relationship to its inevitable conclusion. He was also waiting for her to open up about Master. Whenever he steered her toward that topic, she’d become closed and impregnable. He finally realized he had to stop playing it safe, and take matters into his own impetuous hands.

“The cabin’s finished,” he informed Katrina as they cleared away brunch dishes that Saturday. “I thought we might go have a look later.”

Katrina winced with guilt. She should be ashamed of herself, she had been so engrossed with her feelings for Caleb that she had nearly forgotten about Sarah and her real reason for being here. “Great. I’m ready when you are.”

Caleb stared a second, taking in her scooped-neck knitted top tucked into black pants. Whenever she moved a certain way, he’d glimpse just a bit of cleavage. It was driving him to distraction. Still, he liked her new attire as much as he liked the confidence in her eyes.

“Um, I thought perhaps we could go over after we drop the kids off.”

Cocking her head, Katrina pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Drop them off? I don’t remember planning anything.”

“I forgot to tell you that Sue asked if Danny and Jessy could spend the night.”

Katrina’s heart skipped a beat. Without the kids, they’d be alone, all night! If this were a few days ago, she’d think it was on purpose. Now... “Jessy’s kind of young for a sleep over.”

“I think she’d enjoy it. Danny will be there, and you know Sue will watch over her like a hawk.”

“But--”

“Pleassse,” Jessy pleaded as she placed her breakfast plate in the sink. “I wanna go.”

“Pleassse, Aunt Kit,” Danny joined in. “It’ll be fun.”

She scowled at Caleb. He never should have said anything in front of the children. “Why don’t you two go play while Uncle Cal and I have a talk.”

Jessy’s lips curled into a pout. “You gonna say no.”

“I didn’t say no, did I? I’m thinking about it. Give me a few minutes.”

“Let’s go,” Danny ordered. “Getting her mad won’t help, y’know.”

“Okay, okay, me come.”

Katrina watched them hop out of the room, then glared at Caleb. She wanted to be angry with him. How could she when he looked so wonderful, standing there wearing her favorite shirt. It was blue and worn, yet it enhanced his eyes and clung to his muscular physique in just the right places. What would he look like without it? She pushed away the erotic image and tried to sound stern. “Couldn’t you have asked me about this in private?”

He shook his head. “I wanted to make it as difficult as possible for you to turn them down.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to be alone with you.”

Katrina’s heart thumped against her rib cage. “We’re alone every night once the children are in bed. What’s so special about tonight?”

He put down the carton of milk he had just picked up, then moved toward Katrina, taking slow, steady steps. “I intend to make love to you tonight, Kit. And I want to make damn sure there aren’t any interruptions.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Katrina felt hot then cold, then hot once more. “But I didn’t think you were interested in me any longer.”

“What the hell ever gave you that idea?”

“You haven’t tried-- I mean, you’ve been distant. I thought I did something that turned you off, made you realize you really didn’t want me after all.”

He shook his head slowly. “All those morning chats, and we haven’t been communicating very well, have we?”

He moved toward her with the fluid motions of a panther. “I’ve been waiting for you to give me some sort of signal. Lord, Kit, you were never shy about touching me before.”

Katrina suddenly felt immensely shy. She backed up slowly. Hadn’t she been waiting for him to do this, to simply take the decision from her. Why was she suddenly so scared? “I didn’t want to force myself on you.”

“You’ve never done that, Kit. I’ve always been more than willing.” His gaze narrowed with sudden perception. “You’re frightened. Why?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I won’t hurt you. You know I won’t.”

She continued to back up, slowly edging toward the doorway. He matched her step for step. “I want this,” she admitted, “but... but... Dammit, Caleb, I’m not very good at it. I mean David assured me a lump of coal would have made a better partner.”

He caught her at the doorway and secured her arms in a firm grip. “David Masters was a first class bastard. If he didn’t take the time to arouse you, he was the one at fault. Lord, lady, you have so much fire inside, I only hope I can keep up.”

“You really want me?” she said in a very soft, incredulous tone. “I mean, not just my body, but me, Katrina Marie Cante? Everything that I am, good and bad?”

Caleb swallowed a bitter lump of resentment. “Damn Masters to hell,” he cursed. “He did a bang up job on you, didn’t he? Well, I’m not David Masters. Few men are and even fewer are like your father and grandfather. Let me prove that to you, let me show you that I...”

He had been about to admit his love, but reined in the words. Masters had probably declared his love just before he had destroyed her. Katrina needed to believe in love before Caleb could admit to anything. “Please, Kit, I don’t think I can stand being without you much longer.”

There was such sincerity in his eyes, Katrina couldn’t help but believing him. “I can’t stand it much longer, either.”

Intense passion flooded his gaze, and with a small moan he seized not just her lips, but her entire body. He released her arms, then slid one hand behind her back, the other caught the curve of her buttock, pulling her against him until their thighs and stomach met, until her breasts yielded to his muscular chest, until neither knew where one ended and the other began.

Katrina breathed in his scent of country air and spice laden soap. He tasted of morning coffee and jam. He felt warm and hard. This man was everything she wanted, everything that was essential to her happiness. She became languid and clinging, urging him to sip deeply of her passion as she drowned in his heat and need.

“Caleb,” she whispered as his mouth moved to the arch of her throat.

“Yes, love,” he returned, his voice deep and hoarse.

“I--” She wanted to tell him of her love. She wanted him to know he had her heart, that she didn’t take sleeping with a man lightly. “I--”

His mouth brushed over hers once more while his hands slid down her arms to capture her fingers with his own. “Tell me.”

Her heart began to pound, her limbs felt liquid, her senses swirled. “I--” Something inside kept her from uttering the words, that something that was still hurt and tattered. She had to tell Caleb about David; perhaps not all of it, but some, enough to rid herself of this feeling of inadequacy and shame.

Sensing something, Caleb pulled away slightly. “What is it, love? You can tell me. You can tell me anything.”

She cocked her head and studied his eyes, wishing she could read him as easily as he read her. “Don’t call me love. Don’t say that unless you mean it?”

Should he tell her he meant it? Dammit, if only he was sure she was ready. “Would you believe me, Kit? If I spoke of love and happily-ever-after. Would you believe me?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “David had said he loved me. He told me we’d be together for always.”

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“It was game. He knew who I was the moment I had infiltrated his cult, and he decided it would be fun to break me. He planned it all so perfectly, and I fell for it. I went against everything I believed in and I gave myself to him. I didn’t even feel a tenth of the passion I feel for you, yet I offered myself to him because... because...”

Tears welled up in her eyes, clouding her vision, making her feel like a fool. “This is ridiculous. It was so long ago.”

He cradled her against him. “You’re still hurting, love. Let it out and it won’t hurt as much. Tell me.”

“I wanted someone to love me. No woman in my family had ever truly been loved by a man. I simply wanted to be loved. Afterwards, I found out--”

She pulled away, swiped at her tears. “No more, Caleb. Not today. I can’t talk about it anymore.”

He wanted to hear the rest, but forced himself to be patient. She might be parceling the story out like the tattered remains of an old love letter, but at least she was letting it out. He caught her hand before she could get too far. “Kit, you didn’t do anything wrong. Everyone needs love.”

“I was pathetic.”

“He was pathetic. You were used, but that doesn’t make you a fool.” Caleb tugged on her hand. “Look at me, Kit.”

She turned to him.

“I won’t tell you I love you, but know it’s a possibility, know I’d never use you or hurt you intentionally. You’re very important to me. Can you believe that much?”

She wet her lips; felt the cord of desire stretch between them. Even more, she felt an emotion so powerful that it went beyond love. She couldn’t name it, but it strengthened her spirit, convinced her that she was worth loving. “Yes. I can believe.”

He nodded. “About tonight, if you don’t-- I mean, if you need more time...”

“I want you, Caleb. I want to know what it feels like to be touched by a man who cares about me. I need that bond. Otherwise, I might never be able to tell you the rest.” She paused and released a long breath. “I never thought I could admit as much as I already have.”

“I’m glad you told me, that you trust me.”

“I do trust you. Maybe not as much as I would like, but more than I ever thought I’d trust anyone.” She smiled suddenly. The type of smile that made Caleb forget to breathe. “I suddenly realized, though, that you trust me as well, don’t you?”

“I have for a long time.”

“Why? What makes you believe in me?”

“I watch you interact with people. You’re always considerate, always putting someone else’s needs ahead of your own. Lord, Kit, you’ve taken a couple weeks out of your life to help a stranger rescue his sister. You didn’t know who I was, or if I would con the hell out of you, but you came. I could go on and tell you what a wonderful mother you are, what a delight you are to be with, how much I’ve grown to depend on you, but I don’t want to give you a big head.”

Katrina didn’t know how to reply to such blatant praise. Instead, she pressed her lips to his ever so softly, then tilted her head back to gaze into his blue depths. “What will I ever do without you, Caleb? When this is over. When your sister is home. How do I go back to my old world?”

He ran a finger down her cheek, pulled her in with his gaze. “Ah, Kit, I don’t want you to--”

“Mommy, me-- I pack now? I go sleep Aunt Sue’s house?”

Jessy’s voice severed Caleb’s words, but Katrina knew what he was about to say. Did he mean it? He said he wasn’t ready to admit he loved her. Was that because he feared she wouldn’t believe him? Or wasn’t he ready for love? Could she relinquish her heart knowing there was only the possibility? Under his persistent attention, the questions dissolved, leaving only longing. She wanted Caleb. Wanted him with a fervor that could no longer be controlled.

She eased away from Caleb, yet didn’t release his hand. “Yes, Jessy, you can sleep over Aunt Sue’s house.”

Jessy dashed from the kitchen. “Danny! Danny! Me go!”

Caleb squeezed Katrina’s fingers. “I think she’ll really enjoy the sleep over. Sue always makes them special.”

Katrina squeezed back. “She’s not the only one who’s going to enjoy tonight. I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to an evening more.”

Stepping behind Katrina, Caleb eased her against him, tucking her head beneath his chin as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Ah, Kit, you know just the right thing to say. Speaking of right things. Um, do I need protection? I mean, I haven’t been with a woman since Anita. I’ve been tested and I’m healthy, but I don’t want to complicate things with an unplanned pregnancy.”

Katrina couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than to bear Caleb’s baby, but she refused to raise a second child alone. She did a quick mental calculation and knew it was safe. “I’ve been tested as well. As far as the other, it’s okay. You won’t need protection, but I’m grateful you asked, that you cared enough.”

Caleb did care about her well-being, but he wouldn’t mind getting her pregnant, wouldn’t mind one iota. It would be so much harder for her to walk away, and she was already thinking of doing just that. She implied that she didn’t want to leave, but she also suggested she wouldn’t stay. She had a life back in Philadelphia. How could he ask her to give that up? Could he give up his own world for her? Could they compromise?

“One other thing, Kit.”

“Mmmm,” she murmured, leaning into him and loving it.

“I want to take you out to dinner first. Someplace dressy.”

“I hate to sound like a cliché, but I don’t have anything to wear.”

He turned her to him and grinned at her like the Cheshire cat. “Yeah, you do. Go upstairs and check out the box on your bed.”

With a puzzled expression, she followed his instructions. Only when she went to Jessy’s room there wasn’t anything there except Jessy, trying to decide between a Minnie Mouse nightgown and Cinderella pajamas.

From behind, she heard Caleb sigh. “Your room, Kit. I know you sleep with Jessy most nights, but you do have your own room here, y’know.”

She tossed him a mischievous smile as she entered the room on the other side of the hall. “As long as I was with Jessy, I was safe.”

“From me?” he asked incredulously.

“No, myself. Sleeping with Jessy kept me from going to your room.”

“Um...” He grinned sheepishly. “This is my room, Kit. I, um, liked the thought of having you in my bed, even if I wasn’t there.”

Katrina stood in the doorway, staring at the four poster mahogany bed, the whitewashed walls and braided rug. The dresser held an old fashioned bowl and pitcher, but there wasn’t anything personal around to suggest it was Caleb’s room. “It’s so bare. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“At my request, Matthew moved my things out before we got here. But he didn’t have to move much. Only a woman can make a room look lived-in.”

Her voice sounded ragged. “You wanted me even then, before we talked? Before anything happened between us?”

“I’ve wanted you the moment I met you. And I didn’t want just your body either. I never wanted just that.”

If there had been any remaining resistance, it would have vanished. Katrina, though, finally realized that there had never been any real resistance. If Caleb wasn’t such a gentleman, he could have taken her at will. Caleb professed to be impetuous, yet he had never been anything but patient. Perhaps she should take her cue from him and patiently await his love. Something intimate and yielding settled in the vicinity of her heart. After all, he said it was a possibility.

She moved to the bed. A black box trussed up with a huge metallic gold ribbon contrasted against the ivory coverlet. Inside, Katrina discovered a pure silk dress. It was red with infinitesimal gold stars woven into the design, a mandarin collar and cap sleeves. A tantalizing peep-hole promised a healthy display of cleavage while double-sided slits guaranteed limb exposure. The oriental flavor of the dress was complimented by an intricately carved gold hair pin and a delicate bracelet. Both appeared beneath the dress along with stylish heels and the appropriate under garments.

“Oh! Oh my.” Katrina gushed in astonishment. “I can’t accept--”

“Please,” he said. “I want you to have this. I know you don’t normally wear-- I mean, I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable, but it’s past time you stopped hiding your beauty.” He paused, waiting for a reply. When she didn’t speak, he touched her shoulder. “We can take it back this afternoon, and you can find something more to your liking, okay?”

“Did you pick it out?”

“Yeah. Guess I don’t have the best taste.”

“It’s beautiful. I never owned anything more beautiful.”

He caressed her neck, the length of her shoulder. He inhaled the flowery fragrance of her hair. It reminded him of spring, fresh and intoxicating. “You’ll wear it?”

She turned slowly within his embrace, her lips inches from his. “For you, Caleb. I’ll wear it just for you.”

If the children’s voices hadn’t drifted through the open doorway, Caleb would have taken her then and there. How could he resist a woman whose eyes beckoned and whose body leaned so irresistibly against his? I love you. Lord, how I love you. The declaration swirled through his mind. Aloud he said. “Ah, love, we best get out of here before I lock the door and toss you down.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh yeah? Give me an excuse.”

“You’re too much of a gentleman.”

He cupped her face between his hands, they trembled. His voice became very hoarse. “If we don’t break apart right now, I’m going to forget the meaning of the word.”

She looked pained. “I don’t think I can.”

“Oh...”

She licked her lips. “One kiss, Caleb. Just one.”

He brushed her mouth with his, tenderly, sweetly. Then they both bolted back.

“A walk,” Katrina declared. “Let’s take the kids for a walk.”

“Long walk.”

“Very long.”

“Pack a lunch. Have a picnic.”

She laughed. “Too cold.”

“Good,” he said, backing out the door. “The colder the better.”

“Caleb,” she called as he started to turn away.

“Yeah?”

“I...” she began, but could only finish the sentence in her head love you. “I’ll get Jessy ready.”

“Fifteen minutes?”

Her gaze traveled over his hard thighs, broad chest, pausing as she caught the fire in his eyes. “Make it five.”

His laughter lingered as he walked away. Katrina exhaled slowly, feeling a wondrous serenity flow through her. She could get used to being in love with Caleb McBride. She could get used to it very easily.

* * *

That night, after dropping the children off, Caleb paced the living room, waiting for Katrina to appear. She wasn’t late; he was early. Despite all the time they had spent together this was their first actual date, and he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted the entire night to be perfect, to erase every horrid memory that David Masters ever erected.

Katrina did some pacing of her own. She had been ready for fifteen minutes, but couldn’t bring herself to walk down the stairs. Would he like her in this dress? Would Caleb find her inadequate in bed? She might want him, but she really didn’t know what to do. She never even picked up a book on the subject. What if once he had her, he realized she wasn’t worth having? For the longest time, Masters had her believing no one could ever want her for anything more than a night.

She walked down the hall, paused at the top of the steps, then backed away. This was ludicrous. Either she marched down those steps and took a chance that Caleb would someday return her love, or spend the rest of her life wondering what could have been.

Taking a breath, she made her way to the stairs, halted, walked down several steps then halted again.

“Is something wrong?” Caleb asked, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

Katrina knew she was still in shadows. He couldn’t see her, but she could see him and for an instant she forgot to breathe. He wore a double-breasted navy suit that magnified the width of already incredible shoulders. A white starched shirt, pattern tie, and dress shoes completed his outfit while his slicked back hair brought out his angular features and intensified the color of his eyes. He was so intoxicatingly handsome that Katrina had the irresistible urge to skip dinner and drag him into the bedroom. She wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t that bold, but it was still a wonderful fantasy.

“Kit, what is it? Why are you just stand--” He broke off as she made her way down the stairs and into the light. Caleb’s mouth went dry. His pulse tripled. He knew the dress would look good on her, but he hadn’t expected such a vision of seductive elegance. Silk hugged sensuous curves. Twin slits exposed slender thighs. Full cleavage welled within the peephole. The golden hair pin secured a loose knot at the top of her hair while carefree wisps fell to her shoulders and framed her face. With a swipe of mascara and a bit of liner, her eyes became exotic spheres that appeared even more golden. Crimson lipstick enhanced her mouth while matching blush distinguished her cheeks.

“Oh Lord, Kit,” he gushed on a breath of air.

“Too much? I knew it was too much. I’ll change--”

Her words were cut off by a sudden, quick kiss. “Lady, you look incredible. Elegant. Irresistible. Don’t you dare change a thing.”

A huge smile spread over her lips. “You look pretty incredible yourself.”

He grinned back. “Bet you thought I didn’t own a suit.”

“It wouldn’t matter, you know. I wouldn’t care if you didn’t own a suit or didn’t have a penny to your name. If you were a bum, I’d see through to the real you, and I’d still want you.”

Caleb’s chest tightened. He felt an unfamiliar burning behind his eyelids and for a moment couldn’t speak. “How did you know I needed to hear that? I didn’t even know.”

She shrugged. “I think I just needed to say it.”

For long moments, they stared, each wanting to admit their love, neither ready to risk any complications.

Finally, with a grin, Caleb offered her his arm. “Ready?”

Slipping her arm through his, she nodded. “Oh yes, I’m more than ready.”

They both knew neither of them were talking about just dinner.

* * *

The restaurant was a converted farmhouse with a fireplace in each room and plenty of privacy between tables. Warm buttery rolls arrived first along with an appetizer of lime and chili spiked vegetables. A broiled avocado salad appeared next, then the entrees. Caleb had chosen Pastitsio, a Greek dish of layered vegetables, ground chicken, tomatoes, spices and creamy tofu while Katrina ordered Fusilli with a walnut cream sauce. Chardonnay had flowed throughout the

meal, as did light banter and potent glances. They touched whenever possible, fingertips meeting across the table, Katrina’s toes slipping under the cuff of Caleb’s pant leg.

When the waiter produced a dessert menu, they immediately declined. Something more delectable awaited them and they didn’t want to put it off a moment longer. Only, during the drive back, Katrina suddenly became very quiet. She couldn’t go through with this until Caleb knew all of it, until she finally put Masters’ deceit behind her.

Katrina placed her hand over Caleb’s. “Please, please pull over.”

“Is something--” he began, then broke off as he realized that the last of Katrina’s barriers had finally evaporated.

He parked the Land Rover on the shoulder, but kept the heater running. Outside wind rustled branches; a light snow began to fall.

Hands folded, head down, Katrina stared at the glove compartment. “I didn’t know.”

She began, then paused for so long, Caleb feared she wouldn’t be able to go on, but the words came in abrupt, pain-filled syllables. “They didn’t tell me. Jessica let him-- She said nothing. He ordered her not to and she obeyed. She always obeyed.” Katrina swallowed a sob. “I told you that Jessica had fallen for a man in Masters’ cult. That wasn’t entirely true. She entered the cult because of David. I didn’t know that when I went after her. I didn’t even know that she loved David, that... that...”

She finally faced Caleb; tears slid over suddenly pale cheeks. “That David was Jessica’s husband.”

CHAPTER NINE

Katrina winced at the fury in Caleb’s gaze. “Don’t look at me like that. Please, I didn’t know.”

He reached out, cupping her face between his palms. “Ah, Kit, I’m not angry at you. It’s Masters, the bastard, the no good rotten bastard. I don’t understand. Why? How could anyone be so cruel? And your sister knew?”

“It was the way of the cult, Masters’ way. It wasn’t a legal marriage. It wasn’t even consummated. Masters had made his own law. He wanted a pristine wife, someone who had never been touched and never would have been. Still, he had his needs. I was just one in a series of virgins that he had seduced.”

“But you were his wife’s sister. I just can’t comprehend...”

“I was also a deprogrammer. For all intent and purposes, I was the enemy and he was determined to destroy me.”

Katrina eased away from Caleb and sank into the seat; all emotion spent. “After I slept with him, he played with my mind for awhile, telling me how inadequate I was in bed, telling me he could never love such a cold fish, then finally admitting he had only used me. You see, he knew my history because it was also Jessica’s.”

A car sped past them. Old, brittle leaves, stones, and sticks sprayed the underside of the Land Rover. Caleb heard nothing but Katrina’s pain.

“He knew my weaknesses. How to get through my defenses. He put on a damn good act, too. One night, he spoke of intimacy and love and commitment. Even then I had a hard time letting go, so he slipped a Valium into a glass of wine. Afterward, I became receptive to his advances.”

Katrina closed her eyes. It didn’t block out the past, only intensified the asperity of it. “Amazingly, I didn’t fall apart. In fact, I was furious and all the more determined to get my sister away from him. I hired a few bodyguards to help me kidnap Jessica. It was during the deprogramming that I found out about the marriage, that I discovered she knew he had seduced me, that she still loved him. It was all so sordid and horrible, I became physically ill.”

Tears spilled from beneath Katrina’s lashes. Her chin quivered. An icy cold saturated her being. “Up until that time, I had never left Jessica alone. I had spent a good ten minutes in the bathroom. By the time I got back, she was already beyond help.”

She pressed her palms against burning eyelids. “I would have found a way to destroy David, except I discovered I was pregnant. He had promised to use protection; he didn’t. I had been too out of it that night to notice.”

Katrina didn’t see Caleb leave the Land Rover, but she heard the opening and closing of the door. She felt the blast of frigid air. She bolted upright, terrified that her confession repulsed Caleb so horribly that he couldn’t even look at her. An instant later, though, her own door opened. Caleb pulled her out and gathered her against him. He held her tightly, endlessly, cooing sympathetic words and offering tender ministrations.

“It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault. The bastard should be prosecuted. There has to be a criminal offense somewhere in the midst of it all. Dear Lord, Kit, what he did wasn’t much better than rape.”

“I had been willing.”

“You were drugged.”

“I wasn’t unconscious. I knew what I was doing. I thought I loved him. I thought--”

“Hush. It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past. But I promise I’ll make him pay. Somehow I’ll--”

Katrina broke free of the embrace. “No! I don’t want to draw attention to Jessy or myself. He doesn’t know about her. He’d try to take her just out of some perverse need to manipulate, and I don’t have the money to fight his lawyers. I just want to forget him and what he did.”

Compassion tempered Caleb’s rage. “What about Jessy? Someday she’ll want to know.”

“I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

Caleb gathered Katrina back into his arms. “Lord, Kit, I can’t believe that after all you’ve been through, you’re still willing to help me rescue Sarah. I can’t allow it, you know. I can’t let you to risk--”

“Masters won’t find out that I was behind her rescue. I want to help, Caleb. I need to help. In a small way, I’ll be getting back a bit of my own. Don’t deny me that.”

Shaking his head, he tightened his hold, wishing somehow he could erase all that Masters had done. No wonder it had been so hard for her to trust. It was a miracle that he had broken through at all. Never again, he thought. I’ll never let anyone hurt her again.

One hand reached under tumbling strands of her hair. “If you’re not ready, Kit. I mean, if you don’t want to...”

With a strangled cry, Katrina kissed him. Hot. Sweet. Quick.

“Don’t turn me away, Caleb. Please, not now. I want you. I need you.”

Something liquefied within Caleb. A low, rough sound fled from his throat. “Ah, love. I need you too.”

Within minutes, they were back on the road. Caleb could barely concentrate on maneuvering the Land Rover, but he managed to get them to the cabin without any mishaps and in record time.

“I thought we were going home?”

“When I told you about the cabin earlier, I was serious about showing it to you.”

“Now?”

An enigmatic grin appeared, but he said nothing more until they were inside.

The cabin was warm and spacious with random floor planking and handmade country furnishings. A scent of potpourri hung in the air while bouquets of wildflowers surfaced on odd tables and in various corners. The place was more than appealing, but Katrina couldn’t think beyond throbbing pulses and an incessant ache.

“I really think I should inspect the room in the morning, Caleb. I’m in no condition to judge--”

He took her coat from her and shed his own. “That’s not the room I want you to see. Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he insisted, “and wait here for a few minutes.”

Though perplexed, Katrina obeyed.

Before long, she felt his hand take hers.

“No peeking,” he said the moment she squinted.

“Caleb?”

“Hush.”

“But--”

“Just a minute more.”

They climbed a winding staircase to a loft, then passed through a doorway.

“Now,” he whispered.

Upon opening her eyes, Katrina gasped. Lit candles of various shapes and sizes covered a long bureau, both nightstands, and a vanity. Two large porcelain vases, overflowing with fragrant roses, flanked a four poster bed where yards of muslin connected corners in flowing folds. A fire blazed in a stone hearth while the haunting strains of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata drifted about them seductively.

“For me? You did this for me?”

Caleb pulled the pin out of her hair with trembling fingers. Dark stands tumbled. Her gaze turned fiery gold.

“I wanted tonight to be perfect. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I don’t ever want to disappoint you, Kit.”

Tears appeared, brimming over thick lashes.

“Ah love.”

“It’s just that. No one has ever-- Oh Caleb.” The words wouldn’t come, only the emotion.

Slowly... Slowly... she leaned into him, leaned into his strength, into the power of his arms, into the intoxicating fantasy he had created. The only thing that could have made the moment more perfect was knowing that he loved her. But she wouldn’t press for it. She wouldn’t even hope. If tonight was all they’d ever have, she’d make it last a lifetime. “Thank you for not just this, but for not condemning me. For caring. I only hope I can make it perfect for you too. I’m not very experienced.”

“Kit.”

“Yes.”

“Hush up.” He bent his mouth to her throat just above her collar, to her cleavage so tantalizingly exposed. “No more words, love. Just feel. Forget. Believe.”

She wanted to ask him what she was supposed to believe, but bubbles of sensations raced up her spine and all thought dissolved. She felt, though, just as he had asked her to feel. Heat. Blazing. Delicious. Growing.

His palms spread over her waist, then moved upward cupping her breasts, kneading.

Uncertainty and tenderness consumed Caleb. There was so much damage, so much trauma, Caleb wasn’t sure how to proceed. It had to be right, perfect. He had to make her believe in his love, make her know he’d never, ever hurt her. But the heat of her skin, the fragrance of her perfume, the feel of her so close was almost more than he could tolerate. He wanted. Oh Lord, how he wanted. He forced himself to slow down, deliberately prolonging each discovery, unraveling the mysteries of her flesh, spinning webs of enchantment around her senses.

“Clothes,” he whispered, “too many clothes.”

Katrina was already pushing at his jacket, loosening his tie. “Yes, too many.”

He found the zipper at the nape of her neck and tugged. Silk fell. Shoes followed. Strong fingers trembled as they caught the edge of pantyhose and eased them downward. He kissed her inner thigh, the bend of her knee. Heat again. This time coursing through Caleb, igniting virile responses. The pantyhose floated away as he moved upward, tongue and mouth leaving marks of passion on fevered flesh.

He discovered her lips once more, brushed her tongue with his own, then reached behind and unsnapped a satin bra. It fell to one side. French cut panties came next. Needing to drink in her beauty, Caleb stepped away. Breath jammed in his throat. The world seemed to spin as firelight played over dusky skin, taut, pink nipples, and forever legs. He couldn’t stop staring, his eyes sparking blue passion, his body aching.

Unable to confront such fire, Katrina dropped her own gaze. “Don’t.”

“I must. Lord, Kit, I’ve waited so long to see you like this.”

“I’m not perfect. You’ll find flaws.”

“Never.” His voice poured over her like warm scented oil. “You’re beautiful, Kit. Even if you had any flaws, they’d be beautiful too.”

He pulled her back to him, his mouth coaxed the tender flesh at her throat, his thumbs

toyed with rigid nipples. She trembled against his touch; with needs that pressed the limits of tolerance. She wanted him inside her, now. Right now.

“Caleb.”

“Mmmm.” His hands moved to the arch of her back, down over her buttock, lifting her against his contained passion.

Her arms draped his neck. The inner core of her grew hot, wet, anxious. “I...”

“What love?”

Her world focused on one need, one emotion. She had never felt such urgency, such intensity. “You know.”

He had never craved a woman more, but he craved something else as well. He needed her love. He had never needed anything as much. Dare he push it that far? Dare he admit his own feelings? After what Masters had done, how could she ever believe in trivial words? But he would believe; he’d believe anything and everything. “Tell me, Kit. Say it.”

“I want... I want...”

Hot words poured against yearning flesh. “What do you want?

Tension splintered syllables. “I... want you... to... make love to me.”

Caleb would have given his soul for other words, for promises of love, and forever-more, but this had to be enough. He brushed past swirls of muslin and laid her on white satin.

“I am, Kit. That’s what I’ve been doing.” He backed away, tugging his shirt free, buttons popping with ruthless haste, belt whipping free, zipper hissing downward, pants falling, then a sudden hesitation. “Be sure, love. Any further and I won’t be able to turn back.”

This time Katrina didn’t respond with words, she lifted herself off the bed and peeled away his briefs. Her eyes turned brilliant as she explored his sculptured muscles and firm flesh, his hair-matted chest and tight stomach. “You’re so gorgeous.”

He blinked in surprise. Woman usually didn’t think to flatter at such a time.

“You are,” she reiterated, her gaze going lower, pausing at that most passionate junction. The length and thickness of him produced a fleeing memory of pain, brief pain followed by discomfort, then numbness, and shame. She shivered.

Concern gathered in Caleb’s gaze as he knew what her mind had touched upon. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised.

She pushed the memory aside, knowing Caleb wasn’t Masters.

Lowering herself back to the bed, she lifted her arms, beckoned with her eyes. “Love me, Caleb.”

It was all the encouragement Caleb needed. Something between a growl and moan escaped his throat as he braced himself above her, lips meeting lips once more, then moving downward to sample her collarbone, the swell of full breasts, lingering to coax tender nipples, before exploring every inch of her delectable body.

Katrina hadn’t expected this tender exploration. She hadn’t known that tension could continue to build, that she could soar to such heights without falling. Then a sudden wave of knowledge washed over her, and she began an exploration of her own. Some instinct told her how to move, where to touch, eliciting groans of pleasure from Caleb in the same manner that he had prompted them from her.

“Lord, Kit, you’re so... so...”

Perfect. For him. Against him. With him. She had found each and every erotic zone and followed through in ways that tormented him to distraction. He hadn’t expected her to take control, and for long minutes he surrendered to her instinctual manipulations. But he wasn’t about to tumble through that enchanted web until he took her there first, until she believed that a man cared more for her than himself. He wrestled the control from her with experienced hands and primal knowledge.

Candlelight created dusky shadows and misty illusions. Music clashed in a concerto of sound. Wind and snow drifted past darkened windows. Katrina moaned under an onslaught of pulsating sensations and tormenting exigency. Thought no longer existed. Her past dissolved into nothing. Her love multiplied.

Katrina caught a ragged breath as he turned her in his arms, lips and fingers exploring the length of her back from neck to spine, over her buttock and thighs to the arch of her feet and back again, over and over until she begged for release.

He turned her on her back.

“Open your eyes, love,” he urged. “Look at me and believe.”

She blinked slowly, found his devouring gaze and fell into a blue abyss. There was so much emotion there, an urgency that she couldn’t identify, a yearning that had no name. Believe, he had said. What? What was she supposed to believe? The question instantly dissolved as his fingers found her hidden heat. She gasped. Her eyes became wide and stormy.

He opened her like the petals of a flower, finding her intimate trigger, stroking in sure, quick motions, motions that had her reaching and tumbling, climbing and craving. He watched her eyes, following her turbulent journey with an urgency that prompted such need it was painful, nearly unmanageable. Still, he held himself in check.

The silken slide of his fingers wooed her into unknown territories, pushing her beyond darkness and light, beyond shadows and mysteries. She flung her head back, arched her hips, accepting each thrust, wanting more, wanting what she couldn’t name. Her world froze on a single pinnacle, then shattered in pulsating throes of delight.

“Oh,” was all she could manage.

“It’s not over,” he whispered, as he moved downward. This time using his tongue to flame the embers of desire. Kissing. Giving. Tormenting.

“Caleb,” she cried as she climbed once again, past previous realms of joy, into new spheres of delirium. She rocked against him, aching for more, aching for his love, then falling apart.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the quaking continued, then she opened her eyes slowly, found his steady gaze, and finally understood the urgency, the yearning.

Her fingers curled around his jaw. She peered into him, wanting to voice her sudden awareness, fearing it wouldn’t be true, unable to stop her own love from swelling to impossible proportions. “Let me love you,” she said, meaning it literally even though she knew he wouldn’t take it that way. “Let me, please.”

The words rattled Caleb to his core. If only she meant it. If only. But even that sentiment vanished as Katrina slipped over him.

“Wait,” he said, his voice sounding like gravel. “Be sure.”

“I am.”

She moved against him, feeling him inside her inch by inch, lowering herself and pausing, somehow still expecting pain.

Caleb took a harsh breath, restraining himself, letting her take the lead, refusing to hurt her.

Lower.

Sizzling need blazed through him. He clenched the bedspread, holding still.

Another inch. A tattered breath. Hers.

He sucked in his own breath. Beads of moisture broke across his brow.

Her thighs trembled against him. He felt the incredible tightness of her. She was still so virginal despite her experience.

He remained motionless, allowing her to adjust to his size.

She let her body fall, flowing over him like warm rain.

The urge to thrust into her nearly overwhelmed him, but he only cupped her hips as she moved to her own rhythm.

She became soft, yielding, opening to him, liquid solace to hot steel and he could no longer restrain himself. With a strangled cry, he drove himself into her, again and again, claiming everything she offered, demanding things she still kept locked inside. He wanted to possess her, to make her his own, to know she’d never leave him. He didn’t know how to do that. He only knew how to show his love in ways that would enslave her body if not her soul.

He tumbled her to the mattress, repositioned himself above her, then entered her again, thrusting slowly, gently. “Look at me,” he managed. “See me. Believe.”

This time she couldn’t deny what she saw. He loved her. She felt it in every stroke, in his intimate gaze, in his softly spoken words. Her entire being responded to his unspoken declaration. She felt herself rising, coming closer to the hot, shattering core. Her nails bit into his shoulders. Her hips arched against his. She tumbled in dark fire and tempestuous fury, wilder than anything that had gone before. As the storm shook her, she held his gaze. “I love you, too, Caleb,” she said on a tattered breath. “I’ll always love you.”

Unexpected. Long awaited. The words defeated him. He poured himself into her. A turret. A tempest. An endless climax that was like nothing he had ever before experienced. The difference came from being with a woman who loved him. It amazed him. There was so much not to love. Yet she did. He never felt more humble or more elated in his life.

Long shimmering moments later, he tucked her against the length of him, touching, caressing unable to keep his hands still and unbelievably wanting her yet again. “How long?” he asked. “When did you know?”

“Since our first walk.”

His gaze lingered on her flushed cheeks, bruised lips. Had he done that? “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you?” She pushed herself back a bit. “Hey, come to think of it, you still haven’t said it.”

“You told me words were cheap.”

“Ever hear of inflation, hmmm? They went up in value.”

His laugh was thick and rich. “Then you finally do believe?”

She gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Believe what?”

His grin grew. “That I love you. That I have been falling in love since the very moment I set eyes on you. That not being able to admit it was driving me insane.”

“Why didn’t you?” she asked again, her voice very somber. “I wanted your love so badly.”

“Ah Kit, you weren’t ready to believe. I was so afraid I’d scare you off.”

“Do I look scared?”

“You look wonderful. Incredible. Irresistible.” His voice grew throaty. “I want you, Kit.”

This time her wide-eyed look wasn’t feigned. “It’s not physically possibly.”

He guided her hand to his aching need. “It’s very possible.”

A smile spread over her face. “Why Caleb McBride, you’re insatiable.”

“It’s just that I wanted you for so long. I, um, this doesn’t mean we have to-- I don’t want you to think just because I’m--”

“Caleb,” she interrupted. “Hush up.”

At that moment, Caleb couldn’t say another word. For she moved over him, taking, demanding, exploring, showing him he wasn’t the only one who was insatiable.

Throughout the night, they talked lovers' nonsense, explored each other’s bodies, kissed and caressed, taking and giving until dawn erupted over the snowy landscape, then they slept, deeply, entwined within each others limbs. In the morning, after calling the children, they munched on strawberry waffles and honey laced tea. Then they made love once more with tender procrastination.

“We have to talk, Kit,” Caleb said once they were both sated.

She smiled into his eyes as her fingers toyed with his chest hair. “We never stop talking.”

He shifted his weight, sitting up slightly in the king sized bed and pulling her with him. “About the future.”

A sudden fear stabbed her. What if they didn’t have a future? What if his love was fleeting? She had thought one night with him would be enough. She was wrong. An eternity would barely cover her yearning for him.. “Later, after your sister’s home, okay?”

“I don’t see any reason to wait.”

She slipped from the bed, found his shirt and eased into in. There weren’t any buttons left, but she found a safety pin in her purse. “I think we need a few days, Caleb. No. I think you need a few days. I want you to make sure what you feel for me isn’t just a fleeting infatuation.”

Indignation flared in his brilliant eyes. “I’m thirty-seven years old, Kit. I know the difference between infatuation and love.”

Giving him her back, she stared past lace curtains into rolling seas of white, trees dripping with ice, sparkling flurries leaping off snow drifts. “Okay, then I need time.”

Pain edged his taut tone. “You think you’re only infatuated with me?”

“What I feel is real enough, but I don’t know what’s going to happen with Sarah. I could fail, you know. Then how will you feel about me?” She turned back to him. “I don’t want promises that won’t be kept. If everything goes well, then we can discuss a future.”

She stared at her hands. They were so cold. “That is if you want a future with me.”

Katrina didn’t hear him move, but she suddenly felt his arms about her. “We’ll wait, Kit. but know this, I won’t change my mind. No matter what happens, you will be part of my life.”

After sealing his vow with a potent kiss, Caleb lifted her into his arms, placed her on the bed, and began undressing her once more.

“Hey!” She batted his hands away. “We have to go get the kids.”

His eyes darkened with need. “Later.”

Strong hands molded her breasts. His thighs inched hers apart, gathering her to him, entering her slowly.

She gulped in air. Moaned with delight. “Much later,” she agreed.

By mid-morning, she finally shooed Caleb out the door with orders to pick up a change of clothes. She didn’t want to show up at Sue and Matthew’s house in that sizzling number from the night before. She knew that they knew what was going on, but she didn’t want to be blatant about it. In the meantime, she made the bed, then cleared up the breakfast dishes. Only ten minutes had passed when she heard the front door open.

Since the ground floor of the cabin was one huge room, she had a direct view into the living room, but she wasn’t facing that way. Busy drying a dish, she only turned once she felt a presence behind her.

“Did you forget some--” The words instantly died. Harsh breath bruised her throat. James Calloway stood just inches away, a dark, hideous scowl twisting his features.

CHAPTER TEN

The dish dropped, shattering.

“Get out!”

He took a step closer, leering at her partially clothed body. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

Shivers crawled over flesh. She crossed her arms, backing away. “You were never my friend.”

“We should have been more.” A feral grin appeared. “We will be more.”

“Not in my worst nightmare.”

“You will have to be more appeasing, dear Katrina. I like my women docile.”

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” she demanded, backing up until the counter bit into her spine.

“To answer your latter question first, I used a private detective. McBride isn’t the only one with the financial resources to keep one on retainer. As to your other question, I have a little ultimatum we must discuss.” He pulled off leather gloves, unbuttoned his trenchcoat, then settled himself into a kitchen chair. “You see, dear Katrina, I don’t like the way you’ve treated me. I especially didn’t like the way this McBride person spoiled my plans for you. Although...” His gaze ran the length of her body. His nostrils flared. “You are a fetching prize. I can’t say I blame him.”

Katrina wanted to crawl into a hole. Better yet, she wanted to shove Calloway into one, a big black pit preferably swarming with snakes. He should feel right at home. “Get to the point.”

“I know what you used to do and why you’re here, but more importantly I know that Reverend David Masters is Jessy’s father.”

For an instant, splotches of black marred Katrina’s vision. It took every ounce of her will to keep from passing out. Just a few minutes before, her world had been nearly perfect. Now, it was nothing more than shattered fragments. “What do you intend to do with that information?” she asked, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to deny anything. Before she had time to think things through, she had named David as the father directly after Jessy’s birth. Until now, no one had ever bothered to check the birth certificate.

“Why nothing,” he said, his tone smooth, confident. “Unless, of course, you don’t cooperate.”

“What do you want from me?” she snapped, praying it wasn’t what she thought, knowing it couldn’t be anything else.

“What I’ve always wanted. Your body.” He pulled his gloves through a clenched fist, slowly, thoughtlessly. “I won’t interfere with your plans for McBride’s sister. I truly don’t want him breathing down my neck. The man is positively Neanderthal. After you deprogram the girl, break off with McBride, come home, and sign your restaurant over to me. As long as you play by the rules you’ll have a home. When I tire of you, I’ll give you back the restaurant. I’m not a monster, you know.”

Something dark and nasty swirled in her stomach. She swallowed bile. What did she do? How did she fight Calloway? She didn’t know, but she’d be damned if she’d show him any sign of weakness. “Get out!” she screamed.

“Calm down. Calm down. I’m leaving.” His voice deepened an octave. “But I expect you home within a week. That should be enough time to rescue poor little Sarah and deprogram her. If you tell McBride about our arrangement, I’ll go to Reverend Masters.”

“He might not want her. He might not...” Katrina knew she was grasping at illusions, but she had nothing left.

“Perhaps not, but are you willing to take the chance?”

He moved toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “One week, Katrina, no more. I’ve been patient long enough, don’t you think?”

The door closed. For an instant, Katrina pretended it didn’t happen. It was her imagination; Calloway couldn’t possibly have been here threatening her, threatening Jessy. This just wasn’t happening. Not now, not with her new found love wrapped around her. “Oh God, what am I going to do?”

She thought of the way Calloway leered at her. She imagined what it would be like to have him touch her. Her stomach churned as well as her mind with all the atrocities that he had proposed. She gagged, then bolted into the bathroom. Her stomach heaved over and over until there was nothing left, then she heaved again, dry and wrenching.

* * *

Caleb knew something was wrong the instant he entered the cabin. He noted the shattered dish, heard the sounds from the bathroom. With a few long steps, he was at the door.

“Are you all right?”

Katrina couldn’t answer; she couldn’t stop being sick.

The door swung open. Caleb wet a wash cloth, held it against her forehead. “It’s okay,” he intoned, in the tender voice he usually reserved for the children. “You’re going to be okay.”

Katrina knew that wasn’t true. She’d never be okay, not ever again.

“You’re flushed,” he said, then noted she was shivering. “You’re also cold. Damn, whatever hit you came on fast.”

She couldn’t acknowledge. Words refused to form around the knot in her chest, the knot that no amount of heaving could dislodge.

“Com’on, love. It’s okay. I’ll get you home.”

Home. It came to her that Caleb’s home would never be hers, but then neither would her own home. She had no intention of giving in to Calloway’s blackmail any more than she’d risk Jessy’s safety. There was only one way out of this mess. She’d run, run so far and so fast no one would ever find her or Jessy. She was lucky Calloway was scared enough of Caleb to allow her to deprogram Sarah. A week gave her the time she needed to get herself together.

She saw the concern in Caleb’s eyes, the love that had healed her heart. How could she leave him? Oh God, she was going to hurt him. How could she do this? But what were her alternatives? She couldn’t chance losing Jessy. Somehow, she’d make sure he knew the truth, but only after she was gone. Otherwise, he might do something impulsive, something that would risk Jessy’s safety.

“I’m better now,” she said, getting to her feet. “I want to see my daughter. Can we go get her, please?”

Caleb’s brow knotted with a frown. This wasn’t some sort of bug, something else was wrong. Her eyes weren’t bright with fever, but with-- Caleb blinked. Dear Lord, fear emanated from the woman in waves. What the hell could have happened? He wasn’t gone all that long. Judging by her tenuous emotional state, he knew this wasn’t the time to press, but he’d pull it out of her. He refused to have any obstacles between them.

Once Katrina changed, they made their way to Matthew and Sue’s house. Jessy ran into her mother’s arms the instant she appeared, babbling excessively about her wonderful evening. Katrina squeezed Jessy against her chest, trembling at the thought of losing her baby.

Matthew’s gaze caught Caleb’s, indicating with his head to step into another room. Caleb followed his brother to an enormous country kitchen while Sue remained in the foyer with Katrina and the children.

“What the in blazes did you do to her?” Matthew accused. “Lord, the woman looks like she’s about to have a nervous break down.”

“Hell if I know. Last night was nothing short of incredible. I mean, she admitted she loved me. I told her I loved her. We were planning to talk about a future once Sarah’s home. Then, I leave for all of thirty minutes, I get back and wham, she’s falling apart.”

“Perhaps she called home, received some sort of bad news.”

“She’d tell me. My God, we shared so much. She wouldn’t hold anything back.”

Matthew rubbed his chin. “Remember when Sue walked out on me?”

“Yeah.”

“At the time she didn’t tell me she had an infertility problem. She just said our relationship was a mistake and left. If I hadn’t held her captive, I never would have found out what was wrong.”

“What’s that have to do with this?”

“By keeping me in the dark, Sue thought she was protecting me from a greater pain later on. In reality, she was just terrified I wouldn’t be able to handle the problem, that I’d end up hating her.”

“In other words, Sue didn’t believe your love was strong enough to withstand any major problems.”

“You got it. And I think something similar is going on with Kit. She doesn’t trust you, big brother. She probably thinks she does, but not enough to make her believe you’ll catch her if she falls.”

“But I thought we had gotten past that, I thought--”

“Doesn’t matter what you thought. Right now you gotta worry about what she’s thinking. At all cost, you gotta get her talking.”

Caleb knew Matthew was right. He also knew getting Katrina to open up any more than she already had would be next to impossible. Still, he’d try. The only other choice was to lose her, and that wasn’t an option.

* * *

Later that evening, Katrina entered Caleb’s office and searched for his lawyer’s phone number. Even though it was past seven, she took a chance and called Beverly Dankawycz’s office.

A no-nonsense voice erupted over the line. “Dankawycz’s here.”

“My name’s Katrina Cante,” she said without preamble. “I’m a friend of--”

“Caleb,” Beverly cut in. “This is definitely a surprise. How can I help you... Kit, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Kit. I need legal help.”

“I’d be happy to offer you my services as long as it doesn’t interfere with Caleb’s interests.”

“It won’t hurt his interests,” Katrina said softly.

“Yes, but why do I get the feeling he isn’t aware of this call?”

“Because you have good instincts.”

“Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“No,” she lied. “Look, I’d rather just talk to you in person. I know I’m being presumptuous, but I don’t have a lawyer on retainer and I don’t have time to find one that I could trust.”

“Okay, we’ll talk tomorrow. Call my office in the morning and--” She broke off. Katrina heard a shuffle of papers. “Tell you what, just show up when you can, and I’ll fit you in.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, replaced the receiver, then dialed Donna’s number.

After swearing her friend to secrecy, she revealed everything that had happened over the last week, from falling in love with Caleb to Calloway’s visit.

“Tell Caleb,” Donna ordered. “If you don’t, I will. You can’t let that creep get away with something like this.”

Katrina carried the cordless phone to a vacant corner. She slid to the floor and gathered her knees against her chest. “I also can’t lose my daughter.”

“He’ll stop Calloway from telling Masters.”

“How? By beating him up. That would only get Caleb in trouble, and Calloway could still tell Masters.”

“He could pay him off.”

“Calloway has plenty of money.”

“Threaten to tell his wife.”

“She’s aware of his activities and doesn’t care.”

“Oh.”

“That about sums it up. The only way out of this is to disappear. If James Calloway can’t find me, he can’t do anything.”

“You’ll break Caleb’s heart.”

Tears formed in Katrina’s eyes. Her throat constricted. “Someday I’ll try to get in touch with him, tell him everything. Well, maybe not everything. I can’t tell him Calloway’s behind this, I’m afraid of what he’ll do to him.”

“He’d deserve it.”

“I agree, but I don’t want to see Caleb go to jail because of me.”

“Maybe he could go away with you.”

“How can I ask him to leave his family. They’re so close. I’d ruin his life and he’d eventually resent me for it. Besides, he wouldn’t go. He’s the type who’d take a stand. I can’t do that, not with Jessy’s life hanging in the balance.”

Donna’s voice broke with emotion. “We’re going to miss you. This isn’t right. That damn bastard!”

Katrina tugged at the edge of her sweater, twisting and pulling. “Yes, well, that bastard temporarily has control over my life. In time, he’ll lose interest, but by then it’ll probably be too late for Caleb and me.”

“How about the Gazebo?”

“I’m going to sign it over to Caleb. He’s a good man, he won’t cut you loose, and he’ll be wonderful to work for. Besides, I want to leave him something important. The Gazebo is all I have.”

“Do you have any money? I know things have been tight. How will you start up someplace else?”

“I have a small stash I was saving for a rainy day. I’d say it’s pouring about now.” She paused, took a breath. “Could you pack us a few things? Just some clothes, pictures, Jessy’s favorite toys and books. Put them in the trunk of the Nissan, I’ll be by to pick up my car tomorrow.”

“Sure, Katrina. Anything.” Donna’s voice caught on a sob. “It’s like a nightmare.”

“Wouldn’t that be wonderful,” Katrina mused in a dejected tone. “I could wake up from a nightmare.”

After confirming the time they would meet, Katrina hung up, but she didn’t leave the office. Everything there reminded her of Caleb, thick sturdy furnishings, a woodsy masculine aroma, strong, bold colors. Outside the door, she heard Jessy and Danny race up the stairs as Caleb urged the children to get ready for bed. She knew she should join him and help with baths

and stories, but grief paralyzed her. The pain of losing Caleb ripped through her, gutted her insides, siphoned the air from her lungs. Still in the corner, she buried her face against her knees and began to sob, long, wrenching sobs that refused to end.

Caleb found her there an hour later, no longer sobbing, but very still and silent. “Kit?”

She didn’t respond.

Hunching down in front of her, he lowered his voice as if he didn’t want to intrude. “Ah love, what is it? Talk to me.”

She lifted her head and cleared her throat. “I’m not feeling well, that’s all.”

“This isn’t just a bout of--” He shook his head. “Have it your way. Jessy’s been waiting for you to kiss her good-night.”

Katrina managed to get to her feet. The room spun a little. Her legs had become numb, stiff appendages. “I’ll go to her.”

With her every step a new sense of dread invaded Caleb. Whatever happened to Katrina was more than devastating. Something, or someone stole her spirit, ripped the life from her. He knew she had the strength to survive this enigma. No woman could have gone through what she had and not be a survivor. Still, he could tell she didn't have much endurance left. Damnation, why wouldn’t she confide in him? Didn’t she know that their love could conquer anything?

He followed her to Jessy’s room. At the sight of her daughter, Katrina erected a smile and used soft words. She read Jessy a story, helped her with prayers, then slipped into bed, stroking Jessy’s hair until the child’s eyes drifted shut.

When Katrina entered the hall, Caleb eased the bedroom door closed. “Enough is enough, Kit. We have to talk.”

Her eyes were wet again. Her entire body trembled, but she said nothing. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Caleb’s neck and pressed her lips to his, a hot, searing kiss that left them both breathless and yearning.

When Caleb opened his mouth again, she stilled his questions with yet another kiss. Her hands began to roam, touching, stroking, knowing how to take him beyond reason, beyond sensibility. She tugged his shirt free of its waistband, had her hand on his belt while at the same time coaxing him into the room across the hall.

Locking the door behind her, she continued her single-minded assault. Tears weren’t getting her anywhere, neither would this, but at least she’d have the memories, and she intended to store up a life time’s worth in the few precious days that they had left.

Slowly, she began to undress. The sweater came first, then her jeans. “I love you, Caleb. I’ll always love you.”

She unfastened her bra. As it drifted downward Caleb caught his breath. Her breasts were full, upswept with tight, pink nipples. His heart pumped to a strange rhythm. “Kit?”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Let me love you. I never wanted a man more, never wanted to give myself more. You’re in my heart, my soul, the very essence of my being. You’ll always be part of me.”

Her words alternately enthralled and terrorized him. They were everything he had ever wanted to hear, yet they sounded too much like a farewell. Just what the hell was going on? He backed away, trying to latch on to some semblance of control before they went any further. Only Katrina’s lacy panties fell and he could not longer think coherently.

Caleb couldn’t resist such a blatant seduction. She finished undressing him, then began to plant feathery kisses along the length of his body, teasing and taunting until he couldn’t see beyond passion and need. Finally, knowing he was too close to the edge to bring her any fulfillment if he let things continue, he carried her to the bed. “Slow down, Kit. We have time.”

Katrina knew they didn’t, but she didn’t want to rush this either. She allowed him to take control, savoring his experienced touch, taking everything he offered, then giving an equal measure in return. When they finally joined, she was totally his and she vowed she would never belong to another man.

* * *

The next morning, Katrina asked Sue if she could keep Jessy for the day, then persuaded Matthew to drive her to the nearest train station. Only Katrina wasn’t there more than five minutes before Caleb appeared on the platform. In jeans and his lambswool jacket, he looked rugged, sexy, totally irresistible. His hair tumbled with the wind, his eyes bore into her as he cut the distance between them.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

“I need to take care of a few things,” she said. “I didn’t want to interrupt your day by asking you to take me.”

The barriers were back. They had been ever since yesterday, but today Caleb felt them more than ever. Even her appearance had reverted to the way it used to be. She wore a loose fitting, woolen pants suit with a white blouse. A neck hugging knot captured dark hair. The only thing missing was the glasses, but she kept diverting her gaze as if unwilling to let him see her eyes. But he saw enough to know she was in pain.

“I’ve put everything on hold since you’ve been with me. There’s nothing to interrupt.”

“There should be. You should get back to your work instead of devoting all your time to me.”

“I like devoting my time to you. After this is over with Sarah, I’ll get back into the groove of things. For now, though, I just want to be with you. Is that so wrong?”

Around them, people rushed back and forth, business people with stuffed baggage and brief cases, farmers overseeing shipping crates, teens with backpacks and headphones. A train pulled out of the station, clouds of dirt spewed out from beneath it, then dispersed on a cold blast of wind.

Katrina leaned into Caleb, felt his arms go around her slender body, and wished she could freeze the moment. Time, though, was an opponent she couldn’t fight anymore than she could fight Calloway. She pulled away. “It’s not wrong, Caleb. But I need some time to myself today. Please understand.”

“I’m smothering you, aren’t’ I? I don’t mean to. I’m normally not like this, but I have this awful feeling that I’m about to lose you. Am I, Kit?”

“I don’t want to leave you, Caleb. I really don’t want to.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth, either. They both knew it.

“You have to tell me what’s going on.”

“Go home, Caleb. I’ll be back by dinner time.”

She started away. He caught her hand. “Please, Kit, don’t leave me in the dark.”

Pulling away, she walked toward a train that had just pulled into the station. She was surprised that Caleb didn’t follow her; she was also grateful. She had to get used to doing things on her own again. It wasn’t what she wanted, but there weren’t any options.

* * *

Katrina’s appointment with Beverly went off smoothly. Only the woman mistakenly thought that Katrina was giving her restaurant to Caleb as a wedding gift. Katrina didn’t confirm or deny the suspicion. Soon enough the lawyer would discover the truth. Her meeting with Donna wasn’t as easy. They spent a good deal of time reminiscing and crying. There were tearful good-byes and promises to somehow stay in touch, but neither to them was sure if it was a possibility. Calloway’s detective was probably still following her. Once she managed to shake him, she’d have to be very careful about whom she contacted.

Over the next few days, Katrina fell into a new routine. She was altogether too silent, refusing to venture out on any more walks, and spending all together too many hours jarring applesauce. Once the children were in bed, she clung to Caleb, professing love, offering herself to him with such passionate abandon that it left them both exhausted.

Finally, Caleb received news about Sarah. Just as Katrina had predicted, she was part of Masters’ recruiting team at the University of Delaware. Katrina became all business, calling a family meeting where she doled out roles and went over final preparations. She then visited the cabin to make certain everything was in order for Sarah’s deprogramming and paused at the bedroom door where Caleb had first made love to her. She wanted to go back to that night, to a time when happiness had been a possibility. On the lower level, she could hear the children’s laughter as they played tag despite knowing they’d get in trouble for running in the house. Caleb came up behind her, his arms strong and comforting as they wrapped her waist. “I’d like to come back here one night. Better yet, I’d like to take you away. The kids can stay with family.”

Away. Yes. Away with Caleb where they could make love as much as they pleased, where they could talk of tender intimacies and plan a future. How wonderful that would have been.

“Everything is set,” she said, avoiding the subject. “Tomorrow Sarah will be home. A few days after that she’ll be shaky, but you won’t have to worry about her going back. Most cult members want out, they just don’t know how to take the first step. They’re never given a free moment to think for themselves. Once no one is bombarding them with cult doctrine, they quickly come to the realization that they had been conned. The worst problem you’re going to have is keeping Sarah from going after Masters with a hatchet.”

“I might supply the hatchet,” he teased, but somehow the joke didn’t work.

Caleb turned Katrina toward him. Slightly swollen eyes betrayed that she was never far from tears. She hadn’t been eating well and it showed in her sunken cheeks, the sharp ridge of her collarbone. For days now, he had racked his brain trying to figure out what was wrong. Several possibilities emerged, but only one took hold. She had been acting as if they only had a little time left together, as if once Sarah were home, their relationship was over. Could it be she didn’t think he wanted a commitment, that this was nothing more than an affair. Considering her background, he knew she wasn’t the type to indulge in affairs and that was the absolute last thing he wanted. Then again, it might be that she didn’t want any more than a few days. Perhaps, she didn’t think they could work things out with her owning a restaurant a hundred miles away.

Dammit, there was no reason for all this. If only she’d talk to him, but every time he approached her she refused to discuss anything until after the rescue. Caleb, though, couldn’t wait any longer. One thing had to be settled, and with all the impetuosity of his nature, he backed away, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small velvet box.

Her gaze strayed to the box, then his face, and back again.

The lid cracked open. An emerald shaped diamond appeared in a gold setting. “Marry me, Kit.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Pure ecstasy cascaded through Katrina. A small smile brightened her face while a soft becoming flush invaded her cheeks. She imagined a quiet, elegant wedding, endless nights of passion, and a lifetime of commitment. She imagined Caleb and her children, his eyes, Jessy’s hair. She imagined facing all the good and bad that life had to offer with Caleb by her side. She imagined growing old with him, watching their grandchildren being born. She imagined dying in his arms. Then it all faded as reality slammed into her.

Pressing her fingertips against her lips, she backed away. Tears gathered on her lashes. She was once again pale, beaten. “I’m sorry. It’s not possible.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t want this. Dammit, I saw your face just now. You love me. And you know how much I love you. Don’t do this.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t marry you.”

“What do you mean you can’t? What the hell is stopping you?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why, dammit!”

“I just can’t.”

Caleb snapped the ring box closed and stuffed it back into his pocket. “Fine. Don’t. I give up. If you can’t come clean after all we have been through, then maybe you really don’t love me after all.” He couldn’t watch the pain in her eyes. At the same time, his own pain prompted reckless fury. “Damn you! We had something special. It’s really a pity you’re willing to give it up without a fight.”

He turned toward the hall, pausing at the door without looking back. “Once Sarah doesn’t need you any longer, I want you to leave. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you are well paid for services rendered, including a bonus for the sex. I never had better.”

If he had run her through with a machete, it would have been less painful. At the same time, she had never been angrier. It wasn’t just at Caleb. Part of her knew it was only his pain talking. She was furious at all the men in her life who had been thoughtless and cruel. She was especially furious that Calloway had turned her world inside out. Still, Caleb was the only male around, and she couldn’t stop herself from lashing out.

Catching him before he entered the hall, her hand cracked across his face. “Go to hell!”

He touched the imprint on his cheek. There was such agony in his expression that it hurt her more than his words ever had. “I’m already in hell, Kit. You put me there.”

* * *

On the day of the rescue, they left the children with Sue and met Caleb’s brothers in front of the farmhouse where Katrina went over last minute details. It had been decided at their last meeting that Seth would carry Sarah off while Jacob and Caleb ran interference. Katrina and Luke would distract Sarah’s partners while Matthew would drive the get-away vehicle. At least that was the plan Katrina had originated. The brothers had a different idea.

“We’ve decided, you shouldn’t go,” announced Caleb, his eyes still raw with pain.

“Truth be told,” Matthew added, “we never intended to let you go.”

Katrina didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt. “And when was this decided?”

Shoulders hunched against the wind, Caleb stuffed his hands into coat pockets. “From the beginning. Don’t you remember, I told you we only wanted your expertise.”

“The last time we discussed things, you all agreed you needed me.”

“We do,” Matthew interjected, “to deprogram Sarah. We can’t let you risk any more than that.”

“But--”

Matthew stood before her. “This is McBride business, Kit. You’re not a McBride.” His expression softened. “Yet.”

They don’t know I rejected Caleb’s proposal, she thought. When then find out, they’ll hate me almost as much as I hate myself.

“I should be there,” she said. “If something goes wrong--”

“We’ll handle it,” Caleb stated, his stance as inflexible as his decision.

Katrina’s gaze roamed over the five men. Strong, determined, formidable, the McBride brothers could probably handle anything. But could she handle never belonging to this family?

Without another word, she turned toward the farmhouse, taking small measured steps until she reached the door. Behind her, an engine roared, tires screeched. She placed her hand on the doorknob, but didn’t go in. Instead, her forehead touched an icy window pane as every ounce of energy flowed out of her. She should have argued. She should just show up at the university, but the brothers really didn’t need her. No one really needed her except Jessy. There was no one else to protect her daughter from the likes of Masters.

Caleb would protect her. He’d protect you both. An inner voice insisted. “No,” she said aloud, banging her head against the pane. “You can’t burden Caleb like that. You can’t--”

“Yes you can, Kit.” Caleb said from behind her. “There’s no burden too heavy that I wouldn’t be willing to share.”

She spun around. “You’re supposed to be--”

“I’m still going. I just decided to take my own vehicle.” He paused, his gaze intent. “I can’t leave you like this, Kit. We need to talk.”

Katrina tensed. “I can’t answer any--”

“You don’t understand. No more questions. I just want to apologize.”

“I’m the one who should apologize. I should never have slapped you.”

“I deserved it. I shouldn’t have said what I did. My ego got in the way, I really didn’t think you’d turn me down.”

She glanced at him. He wore jeans and a field jacket. Dark smudges circled his eyes. His hair was a rebellious mass. He had never looked more endearing. “I didn’t want to turn you down. I love you.”

He moved toward her, stopping within inches. “Then don’t leave me, Kit. I didn’t mean it when I asked you to. We don’t have to get married. Hell, you don’t even have to stay. I’ll get a place in the city. Of course, I’ll have to come home during planting and harvest, but--”

“No!” The pain in her tone was undeniable. “It won’t work. Nothing will work.”

Katrina blinked back tears, but not before Caleb saw them.

He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Ah, Kit. Don’t do this to us. Please, don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “You don’t deserve this. If I could figure out a way-- If I could only-- Oh Caleb, I’d give my life for you, but I can’t give up my--” She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. “You better get going before your brothers get too far ahead.”

Caleb studied her a moment longer. Give up what? What was the most important thing in her life? Her daughter! Who the hell was threatening to take her daughter? None of it made any sense. He didn’t know what was going on, but he did know that it was tearing her apart. During a thirty minute interval, someone had taken a sledge hammer to Katrina’s world. Who? What? Why? There weren’t any answers. He had even called Donna, hoping that Katrina had confided in her friend. She had. Only Donna wasn’t talking any more than Katrina. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

“Dammit,” he muttered as he gathered her to him. “You do what you have to do, Kit, but don’t expect me to just give up. I can’t.”

“No choice,” she muttered against his chest, but clung to him as fiercely as he did to her.

“There are always choices,” he returned, refusing to let her go not now, not ever.

They held onto each other for long minutes. The wind swirled around them. A light snow began, dusting them with cold, white crystals. He kissed her hair, tightened his hold as her warmth reached into him.

It felt so right to have her in his arms, to inhale her scent and experience the barrage of sensations that only she could provoke. He couldn’t imagine life without her. For the first time, he truly understood Matthew’s desperation when he had kidnapped Sue. Should he do the same to Katrina? Would she end up hating him for it? He had to think this through, but he had to concentrate on Sarah’s rescue first. Afterward, he’d figure out how to hold onto Katrina. He had waited a lifetime for someone like her; he’d be damned if he’d lose her now.

Katrina lifted her head. “You have to go.”

He release her, slowly. “This isn’t over, Kit.”

Her thumb caressed his bottom lip. “You’re right. It’ll never be over. No matter how far away I go, you’ll always be part of me. I’ll always love you.”

She kissed him with infinite tenderness, then turned toward the house. “Always.”

A lump formed in the pit of Caleb’s stomach as he realized this was her way of saying good-bye.

* * *

The rescue went off without incident. Having caught Sarah when she was away from the other recruiters, the entire episode took less than five minutes. The deprogramming sessions, however, weren’t as easy. Despite following set techniques for over thirty-six hours, Katrina couldn’t break Masters’ hold over Sarah. It didn’t deter Katrina, though, she was relentless, stopping only to visit with Jessy for a few minutes or to down a cup of strong tea.

Caleb stood at the doorway to the room Matthew had converted into a virtual cell. The walls were bare and white while the windows displayed a steel grill. A foam mattress devoid of any blankets or sheets had been position against one wall. Sarah sat on the edge of the mattress, legs crossed. Her chestnut colored hair was no longer shoulder length but short and cropped. Her complexion lacked color. Sitting in a similar fashion just inches away, Katrina didn’t look much better. Fatigue stained her expression. Her eyes were puffy. Yet her voice sounded strong, energized. He was never more proud of her, never more in love, never more determined not to lose her. At the moment, though, Caleb felt totally useless. He couldn’t figure out what was happening with Katrina anymore than he could help his sister break free of Masters’ mental prison.

Two days later, Caleb found himself once again leaning against the doorjamb. Katrina had spent practically every moment with Sarah. Both women looked on the verge of collapse, and Caleb was on the verge of panic. According to Katrina, Sarah was getting close to the breaking point. Once that happened, Sarah would begin to heal and Katrina would leave. And he still didn’t know how the hell he was going to stop her.

The one thing he could stop, though, was this constant vigilance on Katrina’s part. She hadn’t slept in over forty-eight hours nor had she managed a single decent meal. In addition, her voice sounded raw, and she coughed frequently. Having left the children with Matthew and Sue for another sleepover, Caleb intended to take Katrina home. However, when he had arrived, Luke stopped him from interrupting the session, insisting that Katrina and Sarah were heading toward some sort of climax.

That had been an hour ago and Katrina was still battling Sarah’s will. Katrina, though, was slowly breaking through, severing Masters’ hold one argument at a time. Finally, Sarah began to cry. It was then that Caleb knew everything would be all right. At least where Sarah was concerned.

Katrina felt Caleb’s stare and looked up. She never could read his expression, but she felt his love as if it were a direct beam of light warming her soul. How would she survive without that warmth?

“Call your family,” Katrina said over Sarah’s chestnut colored hair. “Make sure they bring Danny. It’s time for a reunion.”

* * *

Despite the late hour, the entire McBride clan arrived. There were tears and hugs, apologies and promises. Danny accepted his mother’s embrace, yet immediately retreated to a position behind Caleb’s legs. Katrina knew it would take awhile before Danny truly accepted Sarah as his mother again. It would be equally difficult for Caleb to lose custody of Danny. If only she could be with Caleb to ease his pain. If only...

An hour later, the sister-in-laws gathered up the children, including Jessy and Danny, and left. Katrina informed the remaining brothers that Sarah could sleep in a real bedroom, but they still had to keep an eye on her for a day or so. Katrina also recommended intense counseling. There were a lot of issues the young woman still had to tackle. But the worse was over, Katrina knew Sarah wouldn’t return to the cult.

Caleb smiled at Katrina. “Thanks to you we have our sister back. Whatever fee you ask for won’t be enough to cover the debt we owe you.”

“I don’t want a fee. Seeing Sarah free of Masters is all the payment I need. It’s--” A fierce cough momentarily interrupted her words. “It’s like my sister’s death was avenged somehow.”

“But--” Caleb began only to be interrupted.

“Don’t make me take money from you,” Katrina went on. “I did this out of friendship and...” Her gaze passed over the brothers, then met Caleb’s. “...and love. Don’t cheapen what I did by paying me for it. Besides, you’ve all been very kind to Jessy and me. We’ll be leaving soon, but I’ll never forget any of you, not ever.”

“But, you can’t leave. I thought you and--” Luke began.

Caleb silenced him with a look.

The brothers’ gazes strayed from Caleb to Katrina then to each other.

Katrina couldn’t stand the disappointment she saw in their expressions. Chest tight, eyes burning with unshed tears, she headed toward the door. “Could someone stay with Sarah tonight. I need some sleep.”

“I’ll stay,” offered Luke.

Caleb grabbed Katrina’s coat and held it out for her. “Why don’t you wait in here for a few minutes while I warm up the truck. I don’t want you out in the cold any longer than--”

“I’d rather walk,” she interrupted, then coughed again.

“Forget it, Kit. Not with that whopper of a cold you have.”

“I need the fresh air. Don’t argue with me about this, okay?”

“Okay. Fine. I’ll walk with you.”

She couldn’t stand that. It was too reminiscent of earlier walks, of happier times. “I need to be alone. Please understand, I just need--” Unable to stop the tears, she just shook her head and slipped into the night.

Cold, clean air instantly filled her lungs and dried her eyes. She forced herself to move over a pine matted path and reviewed her options yet again. She desperately tried to figure out how she could stay with Caleb yet stop Calloway from going to Masters. She thought until her head throbbed and her senses became numb. Suddenly, it was all too much: the hours of deprogramming and lack of sleep, the torment of leaving Caleb and the uncertainty of the future. Everything began to spin and tumble. She took another step, then dropped to her knees, energy depleted, hope extinguished.

Around her the woods were unnaturally quiet, the air still. Moonbeams cut through spiky branches, creating elongated shadows and odd patches of illumination. Cold moved over her like an icy shroud. A piercing dampness seeped through her jeans, chilling her to the bone. Katrina didn’t move, everything inside seemed to shut down. Finally, she crumpled and surrendered to the descending darkness.

* * *

Checking the kitchen clock for the tenth time in as many minutes, Caleb finally decided to go after Katrina. Crossing the path from the cabin to the farmhouse usually took thirty minutes at a leisurely pace. It was over forty minutes since Katrina had left the cabin and she still wasn’t home.

Dammit, he thought as he shrugged into his coat, I never should have let her go into the woods alone. What if she took the wrong path? Soon it would be below freezing. She wouldn’t survive the night in that type of weather.

Snatching a flashlight from the mud room, he stomped out of the house and chose the appropriate path. It didn’t take him long to find Katrina, she was only about a quarter mile away from the house. Still, the instant he saw her motionless form, he had to force down sudden panic. He immediately checked her pulse, relaxing as he felt a steady throb.

“Kit,” he said, turning her over as he checked for bruises and breaks. “Ah love, wake up, com’on.”

A soft moan passed her lips. Her eyes fluttered.

“That’s it, love.”

“Cold,” she whispered, eyes partially open now.

“Not for long.” Taking off his coat, he wrapped it around her, then lifted her into his arms.

“I can walk,” she insisted even though she didn’t make an effort to move.

“Sure you can,” he returned, carrying her over the moonlit path. “What happened? Did you fall?”

Shivers raced over her body, making her voice tremble. “I think I passed out.”

“I won’t tell you I told you so.”

“You didn’t tell me I’d faint.”

“I told you not to walk.”

“You should have been--” She coughed several times, hard, tight coughs. “--more specific.”

Caleb groaned. “Damnation, lady, I’ve never met anyone so infuriating in my whole life.”

“Then you should be glad you’re going to be rid of me soon.”

If she weren’t half frozen, totally exhausted, and emotionally drained, Caleb would have cheerfully shaken her until her teeth rattled. “That doesn’t deserve a response.”

“You’re not, are you?” she asked, ending the sentence with another raw sounding cough.

“Not what?” he blurted, managing to navigate the doorway while still holding her in his arms.

“Not glad to get rid of me.”

“What the hell do you think?”

“I think it would have been better if we had never fallen in love.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little too late to worry about it now.”

Katrina didn’t respond. She was once again unconscious. Cursing viciously, Caleb bypassed the kitchen and carried her up the stairs and into the bath. After placing her on the floor, he glanced at the tub, decided it would take too long to fill and instead turned on the shower. He then stripped off her clothes until she was down to only lacy underpants and a sensuous bra. Her skin felt like ice. There was a blue tinge to her lips, but at least it hadn’t been cold enough for her to experience frostbite.

He tore off his own clothes except for briefs, then carried her into the shower. Steamy, hot water saturated them both instantly. Several years before, Caleb had modernized the bathroom. There was still a clawfoot tub and pedestal sink, but the shower was ultra modern with a double spray and a seat built into the fiberglass wall. He settled himself into that seat and positioned Katrina on his lap.

Within a few seconds, she regained consciousness. Her voice was raspy. “How--”

“Hush. This is the fastest way to warm you up.”

“But, I’m hot.” Another cough erupted. Her body trembled. “So hot.”

Caleb tilted her chin up and stared into her eyes, noting the feverish sheen. “Damn,” he whispered, then adjusted the water temperature.

Katrina struggled against him, pushing at his chest with weak hands. “Are you crazy? The water’s freezing!”

“It’s lukewarm. It’ll bring your fever down.”

“I’m not--”

“For God’s sake, lady, for once in your damn life, would you accept somebody’s help. It’s not a crime, y’know.”

A haziness settled about Katrina even as shivers traveled the length of her body. She continued to struggled, but it was totally ineffectual. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but it’s not necessary. I’m here. You have to learn that it’s okay to accept help, that it’s okay to depend on someone else.”

The fogginess inside her head intensified and she whispered things that she didn’t quite comprehend. “That’ll make me weak. I need to be strong for Jessy, to--” Her eyes closed, her senses drifted. She lifted a hand to push at hard muscles. Instead, her fingers drifted downward as resistance deserted her and another hard cough rattled her system. “Jessy. I have to protect Jessy.”

“Who wants to hurt Jessy?”

Caleb’s voice rolled over her like the soothing water, no longer cold, but warm, comforting. She answered without thought. “He’ll tell Masters, then I’ll lose her.”

“Who?”

“I can’t lose Jessy. I’d die if I lost her.”

“Let me help you protect your daughter.”

“I can’t.”

“Why, love? Why can’t you accept my help?”

Barriers fell apart, barriers that had been buried so deep that their existence was undetectable. “Then I’ll be like them, like my family. I can’t be like them. I have to break the cycle. I can do this alone, I can protect Jessy. I can handle it. I’ll run away.”

Caleb knew Katrina was half delirious, that a gentleman wouldn’t interrogate a woman in her condition. Caleb, though, never laid claim to being a gentleman. “Why? Why must you run?”

“He’ll tell Masters about Jessy.”

“Who? Tell me, Kit? Who’s blackmailing you?”

In his arms, another cough ripped through Katrina, then her head lolled to one side as sleep fully claimed her.

“Kit?” He shook her gently. “Com’on, Kit, tell me.”

She moaned softly, but said nothing. Caleb, though, really didn’t need to hear anymore. Comprehension mingled with hot fury. Someone had threatened to tell Masters that Jessy was his daughter unless Katrina-- What? What did that someone want from her? And who the hell was that someone? It didn’t matter, not really. What mattered was that Katrina had kept it from him. Matthew had been right. Despite all her professions of love, she really didn’t trust him. She thought she did, but she couldn’t bring herself to accept anything from him. Hell, she hadn’t even accepted a fee for the recovery of his sister. Unconsciously, she felt that if she allowed herself to depend on him, she’d be like the other women in her family. They gave themselves so totally to their mates, they lost their identity in the process. Katrina didn’t realize the strength of her own individuality, nor did she realize that depending on someone didn’t lessen a person’s strength. Caleb understood all this because he knew what it was like to depend on others without feeling obligated or fearful that their emotional support would someday vanish.

Katrina truly didn’t have a clue to the give and take of a relationship. Oh, she knew how to give all right, that came easily to someone with such a generous nature. Somehow, he would have to make her realize that it was okay to accept help, to accept love, to lean on another person. Only, how did he do that when she was on the verge of giving into blackmail rather than ask for his help?

She shivered in his arms and he once again adjusted the water temperature. Steam swirled around them, he brushed back her hair and kissed her spiky eyelashes, tasted her wet, salty lips, felt her instinctual response, ignored his own quickened pulse and tightening groin. Instead, he deserted the shower, wrapped her in a huge bath towel and carried her to bed.

Avoiding her sensuous nightgowns, he dressed her in a flannel shirt and woolen socks. Even then, she looked irresistible. Her hair was still slightly damp, pink lips parted slightly, her breasts pressed against flannel with each breath. He stretched out a hand, wanting to unbutton the top he had just fastened, then hastily snatched his hand away as several coughs shook her entire frame. Concern overshadowed all other emotions. He went after a thermometer and took her temperature. Shaking his head over the reading, he woke her long enough to force a couple of aspirins down her throat.

“Caleb,” she whispered, her eyes twin slits. “Don’t let me sleep too long. I have to go.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

She tried to sit up, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I must.”

“Sleep, love.”

“Caleb.”

“Hush, you need to rest.”

“I love you.”

“You need to trust me too, Kit.”

“I do.”

He lowered himself to the edge of the bed and pressed his fingers against her lips. “Yeah, right, but it’s okay. You will trust me, I’ll make sure of it.”

* * *

Sunlight spilled through the windows and danced over Katrina’s eyelids, coaxing her awake. Easing upward, she yawned, then sneezed. Reaching for a tissue on the nightstand her hand collided with a bottle of cough syrup. She picked it up and studied the label. It was in her name, and it was half empty, but she didn’t remember taking any of it.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to focus. Slowly memories started to surface. She remembered collapsing in the woods, the shower, a doctor looming over her at some point, and Caleb always by her side with hot broth, tea, medication, rub downs. She remembered visits from Jessy and Danny. She remembered talking, but couldn’t recall anything she had said.

Sudden panic seized her. Dear God, just how long had she been sick? Was she over the deadline that Calloway had set? She had to leave, leave now! She couldn’t think of how much she would miss Caleb, or how much this would hurt him, or even how her heart felt like shattered bits of porcelain. She had to think about keeping Jessy out of Masters’ clutches. That was all that mattered.

Only when Katrina finally managed to sit up, she realized she wasn’t at the farmhouse but in the room where they had first made love. She also suddenly realized that shutters complete with a combination lock now covered the windows. A different type of panic tumbled through her. Forcing herself out of bed, she stumbled to the door and tried the handle. Just as she had suspected, that was also locked.

CHAPTER TWELVE

She jiggled the handle once more, then banged on the door with clenched fists. “Caleb!”

At first she heard nothing, then solid steady footsteps. As the door creaked open, she backed away. “It was locked,” she said, hoping that this had been some sort of mistake.

He didn’t respond. He was too busy ravishing her with his unrelenting gaze, making her conscious that she wore nothing but his flannel shirt. She noted the flare of passion darkening his eyes; she also recognized the effort he made to suppress it. That she could still elicit such emotion despite having been ill, having lost too much weight, was something she hadn’t expected. She also didn’t expect him to look so fatigued. New lines etched the corner of his mouth and eyes. Stubble marked his cheeks and jaw. His shirt hung loosely from his taut waist while jeans dipped almost to his hips. She had done this to him. And she didn’t know how to stop doing it.

“How could you lock me in?” she asked, wishing she didn’t need to ask, wishing she could crawl into his embrace and feel the strength of his body pressed against hers. She needed his touch so desperately.

“Despite being sick and delirious, you kept trying to leave. I had to make sure you wouldn’t disappear on me. Or worse yet, drive away with Jessy in the car.”

She frowned. “I don’t remember much, everything’s muddled.”

“That’s understandable. You were fairly ill, but at least the fever is down and your cough sounds a lot better.”

“How long?” she asked again with a shaky cough.

“Three days.”

Oh God! Oh God! That was one too many. Calloway now knew she had no intention of being his mistress and had probably made good on his threat. She had expected this, but she had thought she would be miles away before Masters became aware that he had a daughter. What would Masters do now? What if he decided not to initiate legal custody proceedings and instead tried to take Jessy? With pure will, she forced down the panic. She doubted Masters would risk going to jail. If he wanted his daughter, he’d come after her with a team of top-notch lawyers and the full financial backing of his cult. Disappearing was still Katrina’s only option, but a day more or less wouldn’t make much difference.

“Where’s Jessy?”

“Sarah is looking after both kids back at the house.”

Katrina inhaled deeply, trying to clear her head. “Is she all right? Sarah, I mean. We should have had a follow-up session. She--”

“Relax. Sarah is fine. She’s in counseling and even intends to move back into her own house in a few days.”

An insidious weakness invaded Katrina’s knees, the room tilted ever so slightly, making her realize she still wasn’t fully recovered. She backed up to the bed, leaned against the mattress, and rubbed her arms against a sudden chill. “How is Danny taking to her?”

“It’s as if she had never left. Still, the psychologist suggested Danny stay with me for a while longer. Sarah needs time to get her life together. Then she can start taking Danny for over-nights and weekends until he finally feels comfortable staying with his mom full time.”

Katrina wanted to go to Caleb, to wrap her arms around his long, hard frame and assure him that everything would be fine, that he wouldn’t have to go through this alone. Unable to do that, she avoided his gaze.

“I have to leave,” she said.

Caleb moved across the room and before she could stop him, he maneuvered her back into bed and tucked the covers around her. “The only thing you have to do is finish recuperating.”

She attempted to get out of bed. The last thing she needed was more rest. She had to make a few decisions, like how much distance she needed to put between herself and Masters. And she couldn’t think with Caleb this close. His proximity triggered things inside her: flashes of heat, a need to touch, the urge to feel his lips on hers. “You don’t understand.”

He shoved her back onto the mattress and lowered himself to the edge of the bed. “As a matter of fact I do understand. You’re willing to destroy what we have, turn Jessy’s life upside down, and put us both through unbelievable grief rather than tell me what sort of trouble you’re in.”

Using her feet, she kicked the covers off. “I can’t tell you.”

Unperturbed, Caleb pulled the coverlet back over her. “You won’t tell me is more like it.”

She wiggled upward. “I refuse to let my problems mess up your life.”

Firm hands landed on her shoulders and pushed her back down. “In other words, you can take care of things. No matter what the cost, you can handle it all by yourself.”

“The cost will be that much higher if I involve you.”

“Let me be the judge of that. Don’t you realize that going it alone makes it that much

harder, and I don’t mean just on you. Lord, Kit, the last couple of days you drove me insane. You wouldn’t lay still and simply let me take care of you. You fought me every step of the way. And you have been fighting me since the day we’ve met.”

She attempted to slip sideways. Another cough erupted, short and weak. “How can you say that? I confided in you. I gave you everything I had, my heart, my body, my love.”

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her back to his side of the bed. “Dammit, Kit! Stay put!”

“I have to--”

“You don’t have to do anything, but lay here and get your strength back. Got it!” he shouted, then covered her waist with his muscular arm to keep her from squirming. “As far as giving goes, you are damn good at it, but you don’t know how to trust or how to depend on anyone but yourself.”

The weight of his arm wasn’t the only thing that trapped her; it was the suspicion that he could be right. She refused to acknowledge that suspicion. There were too many other factors involved, factors that could destroy Caleb’s life. “This isn’t about trust, it’s about doing what’s right. You already had too much pain in your life, Caleb, you don’t need the trouble I can bring.”

“I reiterate, let me make that decision.”

She shook her head. “But you’ll make the wrong one. You’ll try to help me, and that will--”

“What!?” he grabbed her shoulders and squeezed hard enough to still her words. “What the hell harm will it do if I help you out of jam?”

“You could get hurt.”

“Bull! This isn’t about me. It just goes right back to your inability to trust me.”

“I wouldn’t have slept with you if I didn’t trust you!”

“Dammit, woman, you only think you trust me. When push comes to shove your trust is about a tenuous as a wishbone.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yeah, it is.” He pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. The anger in his tone dissolved into compassion. “Three women in your family trusted men to the point that it destroyed their lives. One man nearly destroyed you because you trusted him. All those experiences taught you that the only way you could survive was to be independent, to never rely on anyone for anything, and now you’re running away because you don’t think you can depend on me. You’re afraid I won’t come through for you.”

He stood. His hand trembled as it settled on her cheek. “I love you, Kit. I’d find a way to lasso the moon and bring it down to earth if you asked me. But you have to ask, you have to let me part of your life, not just during good times, but bad ones as well. Whatever is going on can be worked out if only you would believe that I won’t let you down.”

Giving her his back, he made his way to the door, opened it, then paused. “I’m going to get you something to eat. Think about what I said.”

After shutting the door, she heard the sound of the lock clicking. She should have been furious; she wasn’t. How could she be when everything he did was out of love for her? Loving him and wanting to protect him was the very reason she intended to leave. Only, somehow, her feelings didn’t ring true any longer.

Was he right? She did pride herself on being independent. Independence meant survival. It had always stood between her and devastation. It kept her sane during a tumultuous childhood, allowed her to survive Masters’ betrayal, and to accept being a single parent. She knew Caleb would never harm her, that he’d always do what was right, but to put her life in his hands. It would be like jumping out of a plane when someone else had packed your parachute. But wasn’t that what trust was about?

She silently listed her reasons for keeping Caleb in the dark about Calloway’s threats: He could hurt Calloway and end up in jail. However, wasn’t that something she could talk him out of doing? Caleb was impulsive, not violent. Once she curbed his initial instinct, he’d listen to reason. There was no longer the problem of stopping Calloway from going to Masters? He had given her a deadline and she had missed it. Now, it was just a matter of how long it would take for Masters to react. Katrina was certain that Caleb would do everything in his power to keep the cult leader from ever getting custody of Jessy. But was it right to ask Caleb for that type of support? Was it right to ask him to run away with her if it came to that? All those arguments were still valid, but now she came at them from a different angle. Was she really trying to protect Caleb? Or was she terrified his love wouldn’t support the adversity that Calloway had created? Was she really that afraid to trust him? Did her past do that much damage? And just how much damage would she do to Jessy if she pulled her away from Caleb and Danny, from this wonderful family that had taken them in like one of their own?

Confusion and uncertainty drained her of energy, made her head throb. Yet the thoughts kept swirling like an emotional tornado until her mind shut down, and her body succumbed to sleep.

When she awoke again, she heard the sound of cutlery coming from the kitchen, inhaled the scent of simmering soup. By the position of the sun, she knew she had slept the morning away. It was the most recuperative sleep she had in days. The urge to cough had dissipated and a new vigor invaded her body. Her mental condition, though, wasn’t any better. She still wasn’t sure whether or not trust was an issue. How could she have fooled herself so completely? Hoping a hot shower would clear her head, she padded to the attached bathroom.

By the time she returned, Caleb was at the door holding a tray laden with chicken noodle soup, crackers, Jell-O, and hot tea. “You slept through breakfast,” he revealed, “but at least you’re still here.” He tried to sound flippant, but Katrina noted the tension in his shoulders and neck muscles.

“I couldn’t very well leave in nothing but your flannel shirt.”

“My idea exactly.”

“You can’t keep me locked up forever, you know.”

“I know, but I also know you need to do some soul searching. You can’t do that on the run, Kit.” He handed her a bowl of soup and a spoon. “You also can’t do it on an empty stomach.”

Her eyes revealed every morsel of her confusion along with every ounce of her love. Caleb clung to that love, hoping it would make her realize that depending on someone didn’t automatically lead to disappointment.

Katrina accepted the bowl and spoon with a thank you and a tentative smile that suggested she was considering his words. “Would you eat with me?”

“That’s why there’s two of everything,” he responded with a grin of his own.

During the small repast, Caleb talked about the children, about Sarah’s progress, about gearing up for spring planting. Then finally, he put the tray aside and settled down next to her on the edge of the bed.

He couldn’t stop himself from touching her. He caressed her hair and smiled when he saw her quick intake of air. It had been awhile since she had been able to respond to his touch. Her illness had been unexpected and all the more debilitating because of her total exhaustion. She didn’t realize how close the doctor had come to putting her in the hospital. As it was, she had spent two days on an IV line and under sedation. The latter was necessary because she wouldn’t stay still. She had kept trying to get up. She had even tried to pack up and leave, forcing Caleb to move her to the cabin where he could keep her under lock and key more easily.

He knew she remembered little of it since she was also half delirious. Her actions, though, reminded him that earning her trust was a hell of a lot harder than he had ever anticipated. There was such uncertainty in her eyes, and Caleb knew it was past time he forced the issue.

“There’s finally some color in your cheeks,” he said softly.

“I’m feeling better, thanks to you.”

“Letting me take care of you didn’t come easy.” It was a statement that didn’t need an answer, but she answered anyway.

“I’m not used to anyone taking care of me. Even growing up, my mother and grandmother had been so busy handling their own disastrous lives, my sister and I learned to be self-reliant.”

“Ah, but you take self-reliance past sensibility.” He caught her hand and kissed the scar still visible on her palm. She shivered under the tantalizing sensation. “I remember when you did this. I had to practically browbeat you into letting me bandage it.”

“You did, though. You even helped me out that night in the restaurant.” She offered him a look of triumph. “And I let you, didn’t I?”

He lifted a dubious brow. “If I remember correctly, I simply ignored your protests.”

“Oh... That’s right, I forgot.”

His lips moved to her wrist. His tongue caressed her throbbing pulse and she inhaled sharply. Having been denied these sensations for several days, they were now sharper, succinct.

“Kit,” he murmured, his lips moved up her arm, leaving a sizzling trail of heat.

“Mmmm.”

“If I were hurt or sick, would you help me to get well?”

She closed her eyes and tilted her head as his lips tormented the tender arch of her throat. “You know I would.”

“What if I did something terribly stupid and my world came crashing down around me. Would you help me pick up the pieces?”

“Of course.”

A tiny parade of kisses lined her jaw, then his mouth hovered over hers. They exchanged sweet, cool breaths that rapidly turned warm. “If I were in trouble, Kit, could I come to you?”

“Yes, always.”

He brushed her lips with his, ran his tongue over her moist inner regions, then pulled back very slightly. Their gazes collided. She saw his passion, his need; she also saw fierce determination. “What if I ran away instead, Kit? What if I believed your love couldn’t survive my problems? How would you feel?”

Katrina backed away, pressing herself against the headboard. “That’s not fair, that’s--.”

“I stopped playing fair the day you resurrected those damn barriers of yours.” His hands were on her shoulders. “Answer the question, Kit. How would you feel?”

“I don’t know.”

He shook her slightly. “You know.”

She wet her lips, searched through layers of confusion and pain until she found the answer.

It rose out of her with both clarity and remorse. “Betrayed. I’d feel betrayed. Whatever sorrow you brought with you would be nothing compared to the hurt I’d feel if you left me. If you didn’t trust me enough to let me help you.”

A gentle smile developed on his lips. He cupped her cheeks in both hands, pulled her close and kissed her very softly. “Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel. Do you understand, now? Do you, Kit?”

Her arms went around him, pulling him close enough to feel his muscles ripple beneath his shirt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought--”

“I know,” he cut her off as his hands traveled the length of her spine in comforting caresses. “You didn’t think I’d survive the bad times with you. You thought I’d end up hating you for bringing trouble into my life.”

Pulling away, she nodded. “I’m a real mess, aren’t I?”

“No, love, you’re fine now. We’re going to be fine. Now, will you please talk to me. I figured out most of it from the snatches you revealed while you were delirious, but I still don’t have a name or any details.”

Katrina hesitated a second longer, then revealed everything that had happened from the instant that Calloway had walked into the cabin over a week ago to her internal struggle over the last few hours. Caleb’s expression held a strange mixtures of murderous fury and tender compassion.

When she finally finished, he spewed a string of profanities, then apologized for the outburst. “I should have known it was him. God Almighty, he had threatened you twice before. Where the hell were my brains?”

“How could you know? You’re not a mind reader.”

“Yeah, but in retrospect, it’s just so damn clear.” He cursed again, viciously. “You are right about one thing, Kit. I’m glad Calloway isn’t in strangling distance because he’d be dead by now.”

“You have to promise me you won’t go after him.”

A dangerous gleam entered Caleb’s eyes. His mouth tensed into a hard line. “I can’t do that. Dear Lord, Kit, he nearly destroyed our relationship and has put Jessy’s entire future at risk. He has to pay.”

“What goes around comes around. He’ll get his someday, but not by your hand, do you hear me? Don’t make me regret telling you. Besides, I’m not worried about him any more. It’s Masters that concerns me.” Her eyes became twin spheres of pure panic. “I still want to run, Caleb. I want to hide, but I don’t have any right to ask you to come with me.”

“If it came to that, I wouldn’t hesitate. You wouldn’t even have to ask. But it’s not the way, Kit. What kind of life would that be for Jessy?”

“It’s better than--” She swallowed to ease the burning sensation in her throat, the tight knot that still wouldn’t dissolve in her chest. “It’s better than letting Masters get a hold of her.”

“He won’t, I promise that, love.” He kissed her forehead, the tip of her chin, both cheeks, then lingered on her mouth. “Believe me, depend on me, please.”

She nodded. “Always.”

He stood abruptly. “Get some rest while I make a few phone calls, okay?”

“But I feel much better, I--”

“Hush. No more arguing, Kit.” A soft, seductive grin twisted his mouth. “I’m being totally selfish, y’know. I missed you, Kit. I missed touching you, being one with you. Get well, completely well, for me. I’m getting damn tired of taking cold showers.”

Slipping down under the covers, Katrina beamed a smile. “I’ll just have to see what I can do about that. Only--” She turned and clutched the pillow against her. I can’t do anything at the moment. You see, I have orders to rest.”

For the first time in days, Caleb’s laughter rang through the cabin. With it came the first true healing he had felt since his divorce. He had finally found genuine love, and it wasn’t going anywhere.

* * *

A week later, Katrina was in the process of labeling another batch of jarred applesauce when Caleb walked into the kitchen. He had taken the children to school, then helped Sarah open up her house. He still had time before the children needed to be picked up and Katrina was glad he decided to come home rather than meet with his brothers to plan the spring season.

Wearing worn jeans and her favorite blue shirt, he easily stirred neglected passions. Unfortunately, now they were both taking cold showers. Caleb kept insisting that she needed time to recuperate, but Katrina suspected he was waiting for something more from her. She didn’t know what more she could do to assure him she wouldn’t stray further than his front door, but he kept looking at her with wary eyes, as if he expected her to vanish at any moment. No matter what happened, she had vowed not to do that. Still, the threat to Jessy kept total happiness at bay. She knew that Caleb was handling things, and she did her best not to question him. Her trust was unconditional; her love eternal.

“More applesauce, huh?” he said.

“I was thinking about marketing it. With all the gift shops around here and in Lancaster, I’m sure I can find some shelf space. Tourist love this type of--”

“What about the restaurant,” he asked slowly, a hopeful edge to his tone.

“What about it? Although I want to visit with Donna, Andre, and the kids now and then, I wouldn’t want to manage the restaurant from here. For goodness sake, I wasn’t doing such a great job even when I lived there. Besides it’s not my headache any longer, it’s yours.”

A baffled frown settled on his brow. “What do you mean?”

“That day I went into the city, I had met with Beverly and had signed The Gazebo over to you. Remember, I was planning to leave the area. I wanted you to have something of mine, something that was important. Plus, I knew you’d keep my staff on, that you’d be good to them, and make a go of the place.”

“Are you saying you’re not going back to the city?”

“Why would I do that?” Something shifted inside her, a sudden doubt that momentarily shook her new foundation of trust. “Unless you want me to. I thought-- I mean--”

He kissed away her uncertainty. “You thought right. I want you here, Kit. You know I do. I just didn’t want to smother you, to insist you give up your world for me. But I can’t accept your gift. It’s too much.”

She smiled into his loving eyes. “I don’t want it any longer, Caleb. It’s reminiscent of too much pain and uncertainly. Besides, you’ve given me so much more than what I had there. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have a real home, and a solid, stable family that treats me like I belong, but most of all I have someone who’d lasso the moon and pull it down if I asked. What more could I want? Caleb, I don’t ever want to leave here. But I do want something of my own, and I like experimenting with your apples. I was thinking of making apple bread next.”

“We have distributors. I could--”

Her back stiffened slightly. “I prefer to do this on my--” she began, paused, smiled, and breathed. “Sure, why not. I’d appreciate your help.”

Her words were a priceless gift he had never hoped to realize. She had gone beyond trust to believing in him, to knowing that he would always be there with a willing heart and a ready hand, that it was all right to accept both. He only hoped she could take it a step further. “We still need to talk about the future,” he said.

“I thought that was settled.”

“Oh?”

Her fingers meshed with his as she pulled him into the living room. “Haven’t you noticed anything different?”

“No, it’s--” A huge, beaming grin appeared. “There’s more china.”

“I put my Straffordshire china up on the shelf with your mom’s. And the bookcase, video and CD stand are pretty full with my things, and Jessy’s toys are in the playroom. Also, check out the pictures on the wall, I’ve included some of Jessy. I’ve been pulling things out of the trunk of my car all week. I just kind of took it for granted that I was here to stay.”

Caleb couldn’t say anything; his throat was tight, his eyes moist. He pulled her to him, kissing her, touching her, binding her to him, and for the first time, believing it was forever.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Let me show you...”

“Yes, I want to show you too. I want--” “No, you don’t understand. Let me do everything,” he interrupted. “I want to give you everything.”

“But--”

This once, please, let me...” His mouth moved to her throat, the corner of her lips, her eyes, the pulse point in her temple. “Let me...”

And she understood, he wanted her to relinquish control and trust that he’d wouldn’t disappoint her. Without answering, she melted into his embrace, totally submissive to his every move, his every kiss.

Her total acquiesces ignited fires that had begun the moment he had met her, fires that could only be sated once she was legally his. For now, though, he didn’t think beyond the moment and the expressive depths of her eyes. He saw needs in those eyes, longings that hadn’t been tapped, passions that required a lifetime to fulfill.

Lifting her into his arms, he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. All the while his mouth never left hers. He kissed her past resistance into a realm of such urgency she couldn’t help prompting him along once she was back on her feet. She spread her hands over his shoulders, then down over his chest to his belt buckle.

“Oh no, love, not yet.” Pinning her arms behind her, he used his teeth to bite off the buttons on her blouse before sampling her flesh one delectable inch at a time. He started at her neck with moist tiny forays, then drifted to her cleavage, his tongue tracing the sensuous mounds with hot, darting movements. She shivered in response even though incredible heat claimed her senses.

Very slowly he finished undressing her, then began to kiss her again from the top of her head to her shoulder, lower and lower until he reached her most secret core. He kissed and explored, parting her with a thrusting tongue until her body arched with wild abandon. At that moment the world fell away. She couldn’t comprehend anything but the sensations tearing through her body and the need to fill an emptiness that had been too long denied. His total conquest was something she hadn’t expected, but also something that she willingly allowed.

She no longer feared losing her individuality or her independence. For Caleb would never take advantage of her submission. They were equals in every sense. There were times he would need her, and other times that she would need him. It was the give and take of relationships, the give and take of love. She acknowledged it, accepted it, submerged herself in it.

The heat built to an impossible degree, she squirmed under his insistent demands, then she exploded in a star burst of tumultuous sensations. Just when she thought her body couldn’t reach any higher, Caleb tore away his own clothes. Then with hands on either side of her, he positioned himself between her thighs and watched her eyes widen as he entered her slowly at first, then with increasing speed and urgency.

All the while, he stared into her eyes, seeing her emotions swell and peak, acknowledging depths of love he hadn’t thought possible. Their lives stretched out before them, endless days of giving and sharing; endless nights of mutual submission, mutual command. He wanted to last longer, but he couldn’t hold back the crest of deliverance. Just as he felt spasms tumble through her, he lost control. With the lost, came all his love, all his trust, all his belief that no one could ever harm either of them again.

Long, shimmering moments later, he lifted his head and snuggled next to her, stroking her amazing body. He’d never get enough of her, not ever. “I didn’t think I could love you more than I did moments ago, but I do. It keeps growing.”

“Ah Caleb, I never thought I could be this happy, never expected anyone to love me like this, but mostly I never believed I could love this deeply. You and Jessy are my world and always will be. If only--”

She lowered her eyelids, laid her hand against his chest. Her hand was cool against warm skin, gold against bronze.

“You’re worried about Masters, aren’t you?” he asked.

She nodded. “I know you’re taking care of things, but I can’t help worrying.”

“Things are moving along, Kit. In fact, Beverly was supposed to call this morning and let me know--”

As if on cue, the phone rang. He took a deep breath and picked up the receiver from the nightstand. “McBride,” he said, then remained very quiet. Katrina watched as his expression switched from worried to relieved. Long minutes later, his lips lifted in a grin. “Thanks. I owe you big time.”

He placed the receiver in its holder, then abruptly kissed Katrina, slowly, intimately, thoroughly.

“Tell me,” she demanded, lifting her head, yet remaining in his arms.

“That was Beverly.”

“And...”

“Um, well, you know how you wanted me to promise not to touch Calloway.”

“Oh no, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. My brothers are in jail, though. Once I told them what he had done, I couldn’t stop them. It’s a McBride flaw; we take care of our own.”

She covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes became enormous pools of fear. “Tell me.”

“They stripped off all his clothes and dumped him in Fairmount Park. It took him until dawn to find his way out. A mounted patrol officer spotted him shivering and crying in front of the Japanese Tea House. He’s not much of a mountain man, is he?”

Katrina’s bottom lip started to quiver, then slowly she began to laugh, huge peals of laughter that dispersed lingering shadows of pain. “This isn’t funny,” she said.

“Then why are you laughing.”

“I can’t help it.” She pressed her face against Caleb’s chest. “I should be ashamed of myself. He could have froze to death.”

“No chance, my brothers wouldn’t have risked it. They probably checked the temperature before doing anything.”

Lifting her head, she took deep breaths, quelling the bubbling giggles. “Ah Caleb, it was a wonderful thing they did on my behalf, but Calloway wasn’t worth going to jail for.”

“Oh don’t worry, Calloway’s dropping the charges. Beverly informed him that blackmail is a federal offense. If he didn’t want you to go to the police, he’d better back off. Considering what he did, Calloway got off lightly. Once he confessed that he had told Masters about Jessy, Matthew nearly broke his jaw. Apparently Calloway went to Masters even before he had approached you. He wanted your daughter out of the way so he could have you all to himself.”

“The bastard, the rotten bastard.” The laughter totally dissolved, leaving a mixture of fear and anger. “What are we going to do now?”

We! He never heard a more beautiful word. “Hey, it’s okay. Masters doesn’t want Jessy. He was so afraid you’d go after him for child support, he even denied paternity. Beverly is about to get that in writing so that when I petition to adopt Jessy there won’t be any problems.

Katrina’s first inclination was fury. How could Masters not want his own daughter? Relief, though, emerged just as quickly as well as a hefty dose of remorse. “Oh my God, I would have left you for no reason at all.”

“That should teach us both to be less impulsive.”

“Never again, Caleb. From now on--” She broke off, as the rest of his declaration registered. “You want to be Jessy’s father.”

“Of course, if she’ll have me. If you’ll have me.” Reaching into the nightstand drawer, he pulled out a familiar velvet box. “If you need more time, I’ll--”

“We wasted enough time, Caleb McBride.” Holding out her hand, she watched as Caleb placed the diamond on her finger. “Marry me,” she said.

“That’s the idea.”

“I mean, now, today, as soon as we can manage it.”

His laughter saturated the room. “I thought we learned our lesson about being impulsive.”

“Just once more,” she defended and began to arouse him once again.

“Ah, Kit,” he breathed her name on a tattered gasp. “I guess there are some things a man can’t help being impulsive about.”

THE END

RELUCTANT HEART

Cynthia Lawrence

CHAPTER ONE

Darius D’Angelo, CEO and owner of Calico Toys, ended the staff meeting with a confident grin. "The initial reaction to the ads for Baby Alive have surpassed our expectations. I’m positive that once we announce a market date, people will line up to...”

Before he could finish, the double doors at the end of the boardroom slammed open. A slender woman not more than five-feet three inches entered, a flustered receptionist just a step behind. "You can't go in there!"

Ignoring the receptionist, the woman rushed into the room and held up an advertisement for Baby Alive, Calico’s newest product, a ten inch baby doll with the ability to change expressions through holographic imagery. "Who's responsible for this?"

The combative words didn’t match her clear, melodious tone anymore than smoldering green eyes harmonized with such an angelic appearance. Dressed in a white cotton dress with a princess waist and a full skirt, she elicited images of ivory towers and unicorns. For a second, Darius found himself mesmerized. His pulse quickened. His gaze roamed. Wheat-colored hair styled in a French braid, tumbled to the middle of her back while stray golden wisps framed a heart-shaped, almost pixie-like face. Her lips, with their sculptured lines and sensuous pout, invited long, sultry kisses just as the slender, elegant arch of her neck demanded exploration. High cheekbones, positioned on either side of a petite nose, flaunted rosy hues while the faintest trace of indentations promised a dimpled smile.

She wasn't smiling now, though, and Darius halted his clandestine inspection even as his pulse continued its erratic beat.

"I'm sorry, DJ, I... I couldn't stop her," sputtered the receptionist. "Should I call security?"

"I'll handle it, Maggie," Darius returned, then focused on the intruder. "And you are?"

The woman tossed the ad on the mahogany table. "Tess Montgomery. I work for Illusions, a--"

"A progressive designer and manufacturer of toys that caters to museum shops, educational toy stores, and gift shops. I'm well aware of Illusions, Ms. Montgomery. And if memory serves me correctly, you don't work for the company, you own it."

"I like to think of Illusions as a co-op organization. I only pull rank when there's a problem. And that--” She pointed to the ad. "--is a definite problem."

"How could my product possible cause you a problem?”

"As if you didn’t know!”

Despite obvious indignation, her voice maintained a delicate inflection. How did she manage to impart such fury yet appear so unruffled? After years of battling his own impassioned nature, he envied her control. Unfortunately, he couldn’t emulate it.

“And just what the hell am I supposed to know?” He stood, his gaze hot, hard, direct. “Considering you interrupted my meeting, in my board room, I suggest you either get to the point or get the hell out of here!”

Something flickered in her eyes, something that resembled panic, yet she remained very still, kept her voice very low. “Okay, fine, we’ll play it your way. The point is very simple. Baby Alive is mine, not yours. Both the technology and the design are identical. I heard you were ruthless, but I didn’t think you were a thief.”

Darius had been called worse, but somehow coming from Tess Montgomery the insult hit with the precision of a well-aimed arrow.

“I have never, ever stolen anything in my life. However--” Darius rounded the table. The gaze of every department head followed him as he made his way toward Tess. “If the doll is as identical as you say, then I’d suspect either you or one of your inventors stole Calico’s design.”

Tess watched Darius approach her. He moved with all the stealth and grace of a panther. Taller than Tess by a good nine inches, he was lean yet had broad shoulders and tight, sinewy muscles that rippled beneath a white shirt with a banded collar. Rolled up sleeves revealed solid forearms splattered with dark hair while charcoal-gray slacks dramatized lean hips and hard, long legs.

His good looks didn’t end with his body. He had black, gleaming hair styled in a conservative yet contemporary cut. A swarthy complexion boasted a summer tan while deeply etched cheekbones framed full, chiseled lips. An arrogant nose and firm chin completed the image of an indomitable male, but it was the fire blazing in the depth of dark, passionate eyes that gave him a dangerous persona. He was the type who knew how to manipulate, how to coerce, how to get what he wanted regardless of the cost. Tess had the experience to deal with his kind, but not the mettle. She detested confrontation, but there were times, like now, that she simply didn’t have a choice. Of course, this entire episode would be easier if he didn’t make her pulse quicken and her insides quiver. She expected the reaction, but had thought fear would be the trigger, not instantaneous attraction.

Tess was grateful for the years she had spent practicing Chung Shin Tomil, a meditation technique that had been part of her Tae Kwon Do training. It enabled her to calm her senses and ease the sudden tightening in her chest. She could handle this. She was strong. She was... Ah, shoot, why not just admit the truth: she was terrified.

Breathe, she ordered herself. Again.

Forcing herself to brave Darius’ unnerving stare, she pulled several product development journals out of an oversized pouch and handed them to him. “I invented Baby Alive years ago, but I didn’t have the financial resources to begin production until recently. Still, my journals record and date my idea as well as establish the progression of the product.”

A frown settled between Darius’ brows. “Giving me your journals doesn’t prove that--”

Taking back one of the books she had given Darius, she flipped through several pages, then pointed to thumbnail drawings of a doll’s face. “My version of Baby Alive has a dozen expressions. According to your advertisement, your product has only five.”

A sudden rush of color appeared in Darius’ darkly tanned face. He turned to the department heads. “This meeting’s adjourned. Tommy--” he met the panic stricken gaze of a large beefy man with fiery red hair and a matching beard. “I want to see your staff in my office ASAP.”

His gaze swivelled back to Tess. “Ms. Montgomery, I believe we have a problem.”

“No, Mr. D’Angelo, you have a problem.”

* * *

Moments later, the receptionist ushered Tess into Darius’ office. It was as contemporary as the rest of the fourteen story building that housed Calico Toys, possessing three white textured walls that contrasted against a black and crimson area rug. Chrome and glass tables occupied a far corner along with a black leather couch. The seating area boasted a huge original painting of a single red rose resting on a granite slab. On the opposite side of the room, an S-shaped ebony desk resided in front of floor to ceiling windows.

Chest tight, palms slightly damp, Tess dropped her pouch on a nearby table, then made her way to the windows. Situated on the outskirts of the Wilmington skyline, the Calico corporation had an uninterrupted view of the Delaware Memorial Bridge spanning the churning Delaware River. The river’s depths reflected dark, tumbling clouds that announced an upcoming storm while an oil tanker sliced choppy waters with glacial calm. Despite the dramatic view, she’d give anything to be back in her workshop with its beamed ceiling and rustic walls. Unlike this tribute to ultra-modern civility, her company was housed in a converted barn. Although old and drafty, it fueled her imagination in a way Calico’s sterile environment never could.

Tess didn’t know how anyone could be creative here. She also didn’t know how to convince Darius D’Angelo that someone on his staff had confiscated her design. It wouldn’t have been the first time that one of her creations appeared under someone else’s logo. Years ago, she could have instantly identified the culprit. But the only two people who would had known anything about her design were gone. Now, she couldn’t imagine who even knew she was still in the industry. For the last several years, she had kept a low profile. She didn’t even compete in the mass market arena. In fact, she did everything possible to stay away from that pressure packed world.

Behind her the office door opened. Tess turned as Darius stomped across the room. Her senses immediately went into a tailspin, her face felt hot, her body quivery. Darn, the man was handsome. No, not handsome, his features were too hard and angular to be considered handsome. Still, there was something very hypnotic, very virile about him. And then there was his voice, commanding and deep with a sensuous, raspy purr. He was the type of man who could easily haunt a woman’s dreams and arouse sensations that a saint couldn’t ignore.

“The others should be here shortly,” Darius announced without preamble. “Please, have a seat.”

“I’d prefer to stand,” she returned, her voice as calm as a balmy day despite the tumultuous emotions he elicited.

Darius attempted a similar calm. His voice mimicked ice. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?”

“Don’t you have that backwards?”

“Like hell, lady. The way I see it, either you or someone on your staff stole our invention, then worked up the journals afterwards. We both know that development journals are one of the few ways to prove patent-infringement in this industry.”

“That doesn’t take into account Baby Alive’s extra features.”

He shrugged. “So you stole the design and improved on it. You just happen to have a better tech genius on your staff than I do.”

Tess had this ridiculous notion that once Darius D’Angelo had looked at the journals, he would instantly realize Baby Alive was her invention. How could she have been so naive? If she couldn’t persuade D’Angelo to come to an agreement, she might have to consider lay-offs, or worse yet, bankruptcy. She simply didn’t have the funds for a lengthy court case. Hopefully, they could negotiate something, anything. She doubted D’Angelo wanted his product tied up in litigation anymore than she did.

“May I see your journals?” she asked.

“They’re with the inventor.”

“I’d be very interested in meeting this so-called inventor.”

“You will in just a few minutes.”

As he spoke, Darius paced. He had to pace. It was the only way he could stop himself from staring at Tess Montgomery. Despite what he thought of her unethical business tactics, the woman was altogether too damn distracting. Not that she was drop-dead gorgeous, but she was the kind of pretty that made a man want to take a second look. Darius had always been more attracted to women like Tess with their wholesome appeal. They weren’t as self-possessed or as demanding as their stunning counterparts. Unfortunately, they were also keepers. The sort who wanted three kids, a car pool, and a lifetime commitment. Having witnessed several family divorces as well as experiencing one of his own, Darius knew going after that type of woman was as foolhardy as Tess Montgomery thinking she could get away with stealing one of Calico’s designs.

“Mr. D’Angelo,” she began, feet together, hands folded primly in front of her. “If you thought this through you would realize I couldn’t possibly have stolen Baby Alive’s design. Your creative designs’ floor is better protected than Fort Knox. Whereas, I don’t even have a security guard on staff.”

He knew she was right, but the possibility that one of his employees was a thief was totally ludicrous.

Darius turned to Tess, took a step toward her, halted, then subjected her to an insulting scrutiny. “When a woman has your obvious attributes, there are other ways she can obtain what she wants. From what I know about Baby Alive’s inventor, he’s easily swayed by a seductive lady. Tell me, Tess, just how did you manage to worm the information out of him?”

Fury curled inside Tess like a poisonous snake. She didn’t know exactly what he meant by that remark, but she assumed the worst. People thought many things about Tess, but a seductress? Her acquaintances would have a good laugh over that one. Tess couldn’t laugh. She wished she had the audacity to pull off something like D’Angelo suggested. Not that she would, but it would be awful nice to know that she could best a man at his own noxious game. To her chagrin, she didn’t even have the impudence to voice an appropriate retort. She wished she could blame her docility on her sheltered upbringing, but she knew it wasn’t her parent’s fault that she had about as much backbone as a mouse.

The tightening inside her chest increased and she searched the room for her pouch in case she needed to make a hasty exit. Once again, though, her Chung Shin Tomil training aided her. She took a breath, released it, took another. Her chest muscles relaxed, but fury continued to pulsate through her system. It was no use, even if she convinced D’Angelo that her invention had been stolen by someone on his staff, he would never admit it. It looked as if a lawyer was Illusions’ only hope-- a lawyer and a miracle. How else would her company survive?

“You have a nasty mind, Mr. D’Angelo. I had hoped we could discuss this like adults, but I can see you don’t qualify.” With slow, purposeful steps, she made her way to a table, picked up her pouch, then paused inches from Darius. “I guess, we’ll have to let the law handle things from here on in. Now, if you would be so kind as to return my journals, I won’t take up any more of your time.”

“Can’t. They’re being analyzed by my legal department.”

Sudden panic seized Tess. How could she have given him her originals? Would she ever wise up?

As if noting her distress, his voice lost its sharp edge. “They’re only making copies, Tess. You’ll have the originals back before you leave.”

“I’m leaving now.”

He cut the distance between them, pausing only inches away. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She wasn’t certain if a threat lurked behind his words. Regardless, panic surged inside Tess, panic born from unpleasant memories of an overbearing husband. She rushed toward the door.

“Tess, wait,” he started, grabbing her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

Before he could finish, he felt the smooth, cool touch of her hand settle on his wrist. Instant heat whipped through him, but he didn’t get a chance to enjoy the sensation because a second later the room swirled and his back slammed against the carpet. He didn’t know what stunned him more, the shock of smacking the floor or that a hundred pound bit of nothing had put him there.

When he didn’t move, Tess dropped to her knees. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but his grip had prompted instinctive retaliation. “Are you all right?”

For a minute, Darius didn’t answer. It had nothing to do with being injured, and everything to do with her proximity. Up close she was even more enchanting than he had previously realized. Her skin appeared softer, her scent was clean and fresh, and her eyes... Dear God, her eyes were intoxicating. They weren’t exceptionally large, but they were wide-spaced and the most enchanting shade of green he had ever encountered. Emerald and gold facets as mesmerizing as those found in gemstones splattered irises while dark lashes smudged the rims. What he wouldn’t give to see laughter illuminate those eyes. Even more he yearned to induce the dark, smoky signs of passion. For an instant he contemplated pulling her to him, tasting her pouty lips, experiencing her heat.

The moment passed and Darius came to his senses. At the same time, he realized he had said some pretty wicked things. Perhaps she deserved them; perhaps she didn’t. Either way, he didn’t have the right to judge her. Regardless of his infamous reputation for being the tyrant of toyland, Darius was a fair man. He usually didn’t let his temper get the better of him, at least not lately. Darius, though, was also about as honest as they came and he didn’t like being called a thief, especially not by a woman who turned his insides to mush with one provocative look.

“Ohmygoshohmygosh,” she muttered in a continuous string when he still didn’t move. “What have I done?”

“I’m okay,” he finally admitted. “You just startled me. I didn’t expect a self-defense move. Tae Kwon Do?”

“Yes.”

“Black belt?”

“Only first degree, and a bit rusty.”

“I’d hate to see what would have happened if you were in your prime.”

“I’m so sorry.” She touched his cheek with a trembling palm, then pulled back, catching herself. “Are you sure, you’re okay? I didn’t mean to do that. I... I... It was instinctual.”

For the first time since they met, she failed to conceal her emotions. He couldn’t help being flattered that concern over his welfare broke through her defenses. Consequently, it only made him feel like an even bigger fool.

“I deserved it,” he said, pushing himself upward. “I’ve been acting like a jerk, but I never had anyone accuse me of plagiarism before. I apologize if I insulted you in any way. It wasn’t just unprofessional, it wasn’t very honorable either. I guess I’m not at my best when cornered.”

Once on his feet, he offered her his hand and pulled her upright. Something hot and intense sizzled between them as flesh met flesh. They both felt it. They both ignored it.

“Me neither. I’m afraid I overreacted,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have...”

“Don’t worry about it,” he cut in. “I’m a big boy; I don’t break easily.”

She stared at the floor. Sunlight paraded through the window and highlighted her hair, making wayward wisps mesh into a halo. “I’m also sorry about the accusation.” Her gaze lifted. The sun claimed her eyes as well, turning irises into twin spheres of gold. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Only family had ever talked to Darius as if his feelings mattered. In the business world, a man wasn’t supposed to feel. And having a heart was often a liability. Tess Montgomery was either one very unusual lady, or the best con-artist he had ever met.

“Like I said, Tess, I don’t break easily.”

Realizing she showed more of her true personality than she had intended, Tess donned composure like a cloak. “Do you think it is at all possible--”

A loud knock stilled her sentence. “Ready for us?” Tommy Banks asked.

Darius nodded. He was more than ready. If he spent any more time alone with Tess, he’d probably give into some very virile instincts. Considering the situation, that would only lead to disaster.

“Ms. Montgomery,” he said, realizing he had started to use her first name and knowing he had to rectify the blunder. “This is Tommy Banks, technical expert on Baby Alive.”

Tommy didn’t offer his hand, just nodded and stepped aside as Darius continued to introduce the rest of the team. First came a tall blond with calculating eyes.

“This is Cathy Dobber,” Darius said. “My assistant and the project’s supervisor.”

Cathy cocked her head, gave Tess the once over, then smiled as if she liked what she saw. “I’ve studied your product line. Impressive.”

“Thank you,” Tess muttered, startled by the compliment.

A handsome man in his late thirties entered the room next. “This is Timothy Dobber. He’s in charge of production and development.” Darius offered a half smile. “He’s also in charge of Cathy’s heart. They’ve only been married a few months.”

“Hey,” Cathy protested. “I’m in charge of his heart.”

Tess didn’t doubt it. Timothy’s eyes brimmed with both undiluted passion and absolute adoration every time he glanced at his wife. No man had ever looked at Tess that way. The ones who were interested were usually as timid and unassuming as she. Tess steered away from the more aggressive males. She still bore the scars of her one and only encounter with a Neanderthal.

Darius continued to watch the door, a frown developing between his brows. “Where’s--”

“Here,” announced a lean man with hallow cheeks, cold eyes, and a grim line to his lips.

“Good, now we can...” Realizing Tess had gone completely white, Darius broke off for the second time. “Are you all right?”

Her pupils started to dilate. Her breathing appeared labored. “Michael?” she whispered on a tattered breath. “No... Jason, but you’re supposed to be--”

“Damn, you’re the last person I had ever expected to see here,” the man interrupted quickly.

“Ditto,” she managed on a thin strand of air. “Still, I should have known. Who else could have done this?” Clutching her pouch against her, she headed toward the door. “Need a minute.”

Darius took a step, then forced himself not to go after her. Despite the irrational concern coursing through his system, she wouldn’t welcome his assistance. Besides, something wasn’t right and he intended to find out what.

“Apparently, you know each other,” Darius proclaimed.

“Past tense. We knew each other,” Jason returned, looking both furious and uncomfortable.

“How well?”

“Very.”

“Lovers?” The word tasted bitter. Darius didn’t like the thought of Tess being in Jason Phillips’ arms. The man might be a creative genius, but Darius didn’t care for him as a person. It wasn’t anything Darius could name. Jason worked harder than most, pursued his vision relentlessly, and was always affable. Yet, there was something about him that didn’t ring true. It was only a gut feeling and had no basis in fact. Perhaps, Darius didn’t care for the man because it was rumored that he mistreated women. Darius didn’t think long, lasting relationships were a possibility in this day and age, but he had never lied to a woman nor did he promise anything that he wasn’t willing to deliver. Men like Jason were one of the reasons that few marriages lasted. Darius didn’t want to think about the ninety-nine other reasons. Still, Jason’s lascivious reputation was only a rumor, and Darius wasn’t about to condemn a man without any evidence.

“No,” Jason finally answered after a lengthy pause.

“Then what was your relationship to her?”

“She used to be married to my brother.”

“Used to be? They’re divorced?”

Something cold glinted in hazel-colored eyes. “My brother’s dead. She killed him.”

CHAPTER TWO

“Killed? As in murdered?” Darius asked, an incredulous edge to his tone.

“Yeah, well, no.” Jason shifted his weight and averted his gaze. “She didn’t kill him directly, but it was her fault that he had died.”

Darius leaned against the edge of his desk, one foot unconsciously tapping the floor. “Go on.”

“She testified against him in court.” Jason glanced at Darius, then away. “I mean, what kind of wife testifies against her husband?”

“Depends on what the husband did,” muttered Cathy, clearly showing her dislike for Jason. “Maybe he beat the crap out of her, and she sent him to jail for it.”

Jason scowled at Cathy, but ignored her comment. “Anyway, Michael was in jail for about a week when he got into a fight. The other guy had a knife. My brother didn’t make it.”

“Sorry about your brother,” Darius sympathized. “I gather from Tess’ reaction he was a twin.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, identical. I hope I gave her a good scare. She deserved it.”

Although Darius understood Jason’s grief, he felt the man’s anger was misplaced. If Michael had committed a crime, Tess’ conscience might have forced her to testify. After all, Jason didn’t mention whether or not his brother was innocent. Then again, it would have been a convenient way to get out of a marriage. He didn’t know Tess well enough to judge either way. Uncovering the truth about Baby Alive was his only concern.

“Let’s focus on Tess’ accusation,” Darius said, his foot still tapping. “I glanced through her logs. Her entries are more detailed than ours. What scares me the most is that her end product appears to be better. At least on paper.”

Darius was silent a moment, then he focused on Jason once more. “Did Tess ever have an opportunity to confiscate your design?”

Jason nodded. “We both worked in the tech department over at Tubular Toys. Baby Alive isn’t a new idea. Not only did I discuss the concept with Tess, but I shared my tech notes. I didn’t think she’d steal my invention.”

“From what I’ve seen of Tess’ product line, I suspect quite the opposite,” Cathy informed Darius even as she remained oblivious to Jason’s scowl. “I’m not a creative genius, but after working with Jason I doubt he is either.”

Jason lifted his hand as if to strike Cathy, then drooped it just as quickly. His irate response to Cathy’s insult stunned Darius. He never suspected the man had a violent streak. What else didn’t he know about Jason Phillips?

“Phillips, give your product development logs to legal, then take a few days off. I need time to sort through this mess.”

Twin spots of color appeared on Jason’s cheeks, but he said nothing as he stomped out of the office.

* * *

For long minutes Tess couldn’t think past trying to breathe. Knowing she’d never make it to the rest room without passing out from lack of oxygen, she ducked into an empty office. Lungs burning, she dropped to the floor and emptied her pouch. Black spots hampered her vision, forcing her to feel for her inhaler. Finding it, she scooped the instrument off the floor, placed it against her lips, and pressed the activation button. After taking a deep breath, she counted to ten, then pressed again.

Sweet, cool air filled her lungs. Her wheezing eased. Her vision cleared. Ever since she was four years old, asthma had ruled her life until at the age of twenty-four Chung Shin Tomil, an extension of her Tae Kwon Do, training taught her how to breathe, how to relax, how to maintain a glacial calm in the midst of a crisis. She rarely used her inhaler any more. Then again, she rarely encountered a duplicate of her dead husband either.

She should have known Jason had stolen her design. Years ago, when they had worked together at Tubular Toys, he had taken several of her work books. Because he had been family, she hadn’t thought to turn him in. And when her designs started appearing under Tubular Toys’ logo long after she had quit the company, she hadn’t taken him to court because of guilt over Michael’s death. She had forgotten the initial brainstorming for Baby Alive had been in one of those books.

She couldn’t let him get away with this, yet again. Still, just the thought of facing Jason counteracted the soothing effect of her medication. As another noisy wheeze erupted, she placed the inhaler inches from her lips and activated the isoproterenol once more.

In the hall, Darius made his way toward the lounge until he heard tortured breathing coming from a darkened office. He should have sent Cathy to check on Tess, but somehow he couldn’t stop himself from going after her. She had been gone all too long, and he had this ridiculous notion that she was hurt and unconscious in some darkened cubby hole. Well, the cubby hole part was right, but thank God Tess Montgomery was fully alert, despite being breathless.

“Tell me what to do,” he announced, flipping a light switch as he entered the room.

She shook her head as she swallowed huge gulps of air, and glared at him with accusing eyes. He could tell she didn’t want him to see her like this, and to be honest he wished he hadn’t. It made her too real, too vulnerable. The male instinct to protect surged through him. He dropped to his knees, hands spread over his thighs. “Tess, please, let me help.”

She shook her head again, still unable to speak. He watched her manipulate an inhaler before rummaging on the floor until she found a prescription bottle. When she started fiddling with the cap, Darius grabbed it from her, opened it, and spilled the contents into his palm. Snatching a pill, she popped it into her mouth and swallowed.

As he replaced the pills and capped the bottle, Darius studied her a few more seconds. She was paler than parchment. Her lips resembled winter snow. He had never felt more helpless in his life. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No!” The word came out on a jagged breath. “I...I’m okay, now.”

With relief, Darius watched color creep into her cheeks.

“Asthma?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?” His voice was deep, slightly raspy.

“It wasn’t that bad of an attack. I hardly even have them anymore. Seeing...Seeing Jason threw me a bit.”

“He said you used to be related.”

“He told you about Michael?”

“Jason told us that you testified against your husband. That Michael went to jail and had died there.”

“I imagine he also told you it was my fault. If I hadn’t testified--”

She tried to keep her face expressionless, but he saw the pain in her eyes and didn’t want to cause her any more distress. “That doesn’t have anything to do with what’s happening now,” he interrupted.

“Thank you. I don’t like talking about it.”

He nodded. “Perhaps one day you’ll feel comfortable enough to discuss it with me.” The minute the words were out, he laughed dryly. “Considering the circumstances, I doubt you’ll ever feel comfortable with me.”

Her lips curled into a very small smile. “Who knows? Give it twenty or thirty years and we might be able to put this all behind us.”

He didn’t expect humor. He did expect the sudden surge of desire. From the instant he had laid eyes on Tess, he had been unable to control that part of his anatomy. Well, he had better learn to control it. At least until he figured out the woman’s angle. What if there wasn’t an angle? What if everything she had said was true? Would she ever believe he hadn’t known what had been going on right under his nose? Even if they managed to get through this without despising each other, he doubted she’d be interested in a casual affair. And that was all Darius was willing to offer any woman. Ever since he had discovered his wife had more lovers than Darius had acquaintances, he had stopped believing in commitment.

He got to his feet, then reached for her hand, pulling her upright. She swayed against him for a brief instant. It was enough to feel her warmth, the soft swell of breasts, the brush of firm thighs. Intense, shattering heat burned through him, and for a moment he didn’t think he’d be able to release her. He wanted her in his arms, and he wanted her there willingly. Damn it! Get control, he ordered himself.

Grabbing her shoulders, he righted her, then backed away. Not that distance made any difference. The relentless hold this woman had on his senses just wouldn’t quit. He had never felt anything like it, and God help him, he didn’t want to stop feeling it. He didn’t have a choice, though. Tess Montgomery was his adversary. He had to stop forgetting that.

“I had thought it would be advantageous to have you meet the team that worked on Baby Alive. I see that was a mistake.”

She didn’t respond. Only stood there, still as marble, as ethereal as an angel. Was she just as innocent? Or was she the type to send a man to jail because she didn’t want him in her life any longer? Dare he find out?

“Do you have any questions before I leave all this to the lawyers?” she asked.

Darius caught her gaze and held it. Unlike Jason Phillips, she met his stare without hesitation. It was like allowing him access to her soul. Was her sincerity part of an act? Or was this the real Tess? “My lawyers will ask the necessary questions.”

“Of course,” she muttered, stooping down to gather the paraphernalia she had dumped out of her purse. “About my journals...”

“I doubt legal is finished with them, but I’ll have them delivered to you as soon as possible.”

She straightened, slipped the pouch strap over her shoulder and bit her lip, obviously reluctant to leave her journals.

“You have my word, Tess. I won’t make them suddenly disappear.”

“Very well, Mr. D’Angelo, I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure, but...”

With a delicate shrug, she walked past him.

Before he could stop himself, he grabbed her arm. Despite everything, he simply couldn’t let her go. Fearing what he might find, he refused to examine his reasoning.

“We need to talk,” he said, “and I’d prefer to do it in a less formal atmosphere. There’s a coffee shop a few doors down from Calico. Would you mind if we went there?”

She stared at the hand attached to her arm. It scorched her. She could feel the heat radiating down to her toes, then upward, making her thoughts melt into images of lips on lips, bodies pressed close, exploring hands. Ignoring the images was more difficult than she could ever have imagined. “I thought you wanted the lawyers to do the talking.”

“About the legality of things, but I want to know you as a person, not just someone who had hurled a nasty accusation at me.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to believe you.”

“Isn’t that rather self-defeating? If you believe me that means you also believe that Baby Alive, or Holly as I call her, is really my product.”

“My gut tells me you’re not interested in destroying me. If that’s all you wanted, you would have sent a lawyer to begin with. You really don’t want this to go to court, do you?”

She continued to stare at his hand. She should step away, casually, as if his touch meant nothing. Somehow, she couldn’t fight his magnetism. Even worse, she didn’t want to fight it. “A lengthy court case could bankrupt me.”

Regret instantly followed her declaration. What was the matter with her? If Darius D’Angelo was as ruthless as his reputation suggested, she had just committed financial suicide. But, she couldn’t take the words back. She couldn’t even qualify them in any way. Instead she simply forced herself to shrug out of his grasp.

“Admitting that wasn’t very smart,” he said. “Some businessmen would use that knowledge against you.”

Tess concentrated on the rhythm of her heart. Calm. Slow. Take a breath. “Will you?”

He shook his head. “I know the rumors about me, Tess, but I’m not a monster. Anything we say to each other without lawyers present is off the record, okay?”

“I really shouldn’t believe you.”

He leaned against the door jamb, arms folded, a light smile tipping the corners of his mouth. “No, you shouldn’t, but I suspect you do. Just as I suspect you really do believe that Baby Alive is your creation.”

“I don’t believe it. I know it!”

“Then convince me.” He grinned. “Over coffee.”

Tess didn’t smile back. Although he had given her the chance to explain her position, she feared this might all be some sort of game. She wasn’t good at games, or being devious, or outwitting the likes of a sexy, business tycoon. Honesty was the only thing Tess had going for her and she didn’t know if that would be enough.

“Okay,” she said, knowing she was out of options. “Coffee it is.”

* * *

The café had a Victorian look to it with wicker tables, potted ferns, and alcoves complete with privacy partitions. Although charming, Tess found the place a little too intimate for a business meeting. The petite banquette forced them to sit side by side, thighs practically touching. She could feel his heat. She could feel herself responding to that heat. As casually as she could, she placed her pouch between them.

“That’s not necessary,” he stated, plucking it up and dropping it to the floor. “If I had intended to seduce you, I would have opted for a room in the back. They have locks on the door.”

Color invaded her cheeks. “You mean people actually... No... They wouldn’t, would they? In public?”

He shrugged. “The rooms are supposed to be used for private business meetings, however...”

He let the sentence trail, grinning at her blush. He didn’t think women still did that. Could that refreshing naiveté truly be for real? His cynical self couldn’t quite accept such innocence. For all he knew, she could be a thief. What better way to stop a patent-infringement suit than by accusing Jason of thievery before he could accuse her.

“Do you really find it so shocking?” he asked, still vacillating in his opinion of her.

It was her turn to shrug. “I guess I shouldn’t, but I was raised--”

The waiter’s arrival prevented Tess from finishing the sentence. It was for the best. She was sure Darius wasn’t interested in her reclusive childhood. Darn it, she wished she had better business savvy. In retrospect, she should have asked her assistant Pete to handle things. Only, Pete was busy helping his wife care for their new-born son, and she wasn’t about to burden him with something that was her job, anyway.

“Mocha Delight,” she ordered. “Extra whipped cream, please.”

“Espresso,” Darius added, then turned to Tess. “Would you like something to eat? Best pastry in town.”

Tess never had a chance to eat breakfast. She had discovered the promotional ad for Baby Alive before she had even poured her first cup of coffee. Now, though, food was the furthest thing from her mind.

“No thank you,” she returned politely.

After the waiter had left, Darius leaned back in his chair and studied Tess. She sat there very primly, hands folded on her lap, shoulders straight, eyes wide. She tried so hard to appear cool and indifferent. A less experienced man might have bought it. Darius caught the slight tremor that periodically touched her bottom lip. Was that fear he detected? What could possibly be scaring her? Certainly not the situation. According to his people in public relations, Tess Montgomery was a professional who had made a name for Illusions within only seven short years of its conception. Perhaps, she was simply scared she might get caught trying to pull a fast one. There was also the possibility that she feared him as a man. He doubted that. Of all the emotions he had ever elicited from a woman, fear had never been a consideration.

“So, tell me about Baby-- I mean Holly. Just how close is she to our product?” As he spoke, he allowed his thigh to touch hers. He felt her stiffen, but she didn’t move away.

“You tell me. You’ve seen my journals. I haven’t seen yours.”

“True, but I didn’t inspect your books that closely.” He draped his right arm across the banquette. His hand was inches from her neck. Wild wisps of hair danced about the nape of that neck, tempting him to touch. He didn’t. “Let’s go about this from another angle. How did you come up with the idea for the doll?”

Darius rested his left hand on the table, his fingers just inches away from her arm. She studied his fingers. They were long and hard, eluding to subtle strength. The nails were immaculate, cut short and blunt. She imagined those fingers touching her, eliciting sensations that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel for many years. She swallowed, twice. “Disney World,” she said. “I was on my honeymoon. Michael hated the resort, but I was enchanted. It’s such a magical place, and I wanted to bring that magic to something a little girl could hold. I had studied the holographic images at the haunted house and wondered if I could duplicate them in miniature. Of course, back then the technology for what I wanted was non-existent. It took me all this time to work it out. In the meantime, I worked on simpler toy designs and sold them to a smaller market. But every bit of Illusions’ profits has gone toward the production of Holly. I guess you could say I put all my eggs in one basket.”

“I’m more diversified then that.”

“I know.”

“Still, the loss of Baby Alive would put a decent dent in our bottom line.”

“I know that as well.”

“So, I guess it would be advantageous to work something out.”

She nodded.

“Only if someone on my staff is a thief, I’d want to know. If you, however, are pulling a fast one I’d want to know that as well.” He paused when the waiter appeared with their order. Darius took several sips of espresso before continuing. “Plus, there is also the chance this might simply be a case of parallel development.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“What do you believe?”

“That Jason stole my design when we worked at Tubular.”

“He told me that you worked together, but his story was a little different. He said you had stolen his design.”

“He would say that. But I’d bet anything that Jason didn’t bring much technology to the project because I didn’t have that much down on paper back then.”

Darius really didn’t know how much technology Jason had brought. That was Tommy Banks’ department. Darius, though, trusted Tommy implicitly. They had known each other since first grade and had been to hell and back together several times. Tommy would have told him if Jason’s design had been lacking in any way.

“I’ll investigate, and let you know what I come up with.” There were a few other things that he wanted to investigate like how her lips would feel under his hard mouth. Was her skin as soft as it appeared? And her scent. God, just what was that perfume she wore? It was sweet and clean and incredibly fresh like flowers after a storm.

Darius didn’t voice his thoughts, but the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down Tess’ spine. Why did she have the feeling that his mind wasn’t entirely on business? Perhaps, because she wasn’t concentrating on it very much herself. She wanted to feel this man’s touch so desperately, she actually considered leaning against him. Would his arms go around her if she did? Would he kiss her? Did she have the guts to provoke such a response? That last thought nearly made her laugh. Guts? Her? Never!

Sighing, she scooped up a finger-full of whipped cream and placed it in her mouth. She swirled the cool, creamy foam around her tongue, savoring the flavor before she sucked on her finger to enjoy every last drop of sweetness. Thoughtlessly, she repeated the performance twice more. She didn’t realize the gesture was at once provocative and inviting. She didn’t know woman used just that technique to seduce and arouse.

Darius knew, and blinked in surprise. Somehow, he hadn’t expected her to come on to him so blatantly. Perhaps his previous assessment of her had been incorrect. Just because she came off like an innocent angel didn’t mean her halo wasn’t tarnished. If Tess Montgomery was willing to mix business and pleasure, he wasn’t about to object.

“Well, I guess that concludes our business for the time being,” he said. “Now, how about some insight into Tess Montgomery the woman.”

As he spoke, his fingertips brushed the top of her shoulder. Her shiver matched one of his own.

“There’s not much to tell,” she said, stuck her finger into the whipped cream once more, then paused as if suddenly realizing what she was doing. She wiped her finger on a cloth napkin, then placed both hands on her lap as she inched away.

“Have you remarried?” he asked, sliding closer to eliminate the space she had created.

She became very still. “No.”

“Children?” He whispered against her ear.

“No.”

“Pets?” His thumb traced the delicate line of her neck from her ear to her collarbone, then settled on her fluttering pulse. His own pulse had quickened, and he wondered just how far she’d be willing to go with someone she barley knew.

She nodded as if not trusting her voice.

His fingers trailed across the back of her neck, slipping over her shoulder as his lips touched the tip of her ear. “A Lover? I certainly hope not. I don’t like to share.”

Tess spun in her seat, facing him with incredulous eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Darius straightened, slowly. She truly looked upset, and Darius couldn’t quite fathom why. “I’m only acting on your signals, Tess.”

“Signals?”

He scooped up a droplet of whip cream and imitated her provocative little gestures.

“That was a signal? How could that be a signal? Perhaps it wasn’t very mannerly, but I assure you it wasn’t a signal. I always do that. I just shouldn’t have done it in public.”

Eyes narrowed, Darius cocked his head and subjected Tess to a thorough scrutiny. Had he misread her that completely? “Then, you’re not attracted to me at all?”

Staring at a spot just beyond him, she moved just a little further away. “What does attraction have to do with business?”

“You tell me, dear heart. From where I’m sitting, I had the distinct impression you wanted something from me that had nothing to do with business.”

Tess’ eyes widened. She was too embarrassed to admit that he was right. She had wanted something, and he had given her more than she had anticipated. Darn it, why did she have to be so blasted transparent? Why did he have to be so blasted confident?

“You’re wrong,” she said, reaching for her pouch. She plucked out a ten dollar bill, tossed it on the table, then stood. The air about her seemed as frigid as her stance. “I don’t want anything at all from you except your cooperation in uncovering the truth. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.”

Before he could stop her, Tess had fled from Darius as if the legions of hell were after her. In bewilderment, Darius stared at the spot she had vacated, then at the ten dollar bill. He wasn’t used to a woman paying her way any more than he was used to one being so damn skittish. He only hoped to God this wasn’t some sort of game because he had the sneaking suspicion that he’d end up losing.

* * *

Confronted with a delivery crisis, Tess spent the rest of that day and most of the following one on the phone making apologies. By evening, Tess’ nervous system was as turbulent as the upcoming storm. The Delaware River churned under a taunting wind. Tree branches snapped. Leaves bustled as if annoyed at being disturbed. Tess stood on the deck outside her cottage, watching blackened swells as she inhaled damp, humid air. Another summer storm was on its way. Actually, it wasn’t just a storm, but the remnants of a hurricane that had hit Florida with blatant fury, then settled into a tropical squall. It promised forty mile an hour winds and a deluge of rain.

Storms had terrified Tess at age five and she used to hide in a closet until they were over. Part of her still wanted to hide when the first flash of lightning cracked the inky black sky, but, as was her custom, she ignored fear. She needed to expunge the tension nestled inside her. What better way then to become one with the storm? She walked down three wooden steps into a small tree-lined yard. Rascal, her white poodle, followed behind her while both Patch and Tiger, her two tabbies, dashed back into the cottage through the pet door.

“Better join the others,” she informed the excited dog. “You know you don’t like thunder.”

Rascal pounced about her feet, oblivious to her concern. Then an angry boom echoed through the night and he dashed up the stairs with a whimper.

“Told you so,” she called after the retreating dog, then lifted her arms, absorbing the battering wind. Her white cotton nightgown whipped around her body. Her hair, crimped by an unraveling braid, took flight, twisting and snapping as if it had a life of its own. Tess felt the temperature dropping, felt her skin grow cold as the first pellet of icy rain struck. Thunder crashed around her, another flash of light turned the world an eerie green. She lifted her face to nature’s tempest and smiled at her own audacity.

The first time she had braved a lightning storm, she had been twelve and her parents had been mortified. Even after a heated lecture and a stiff punishment, Tess did it again a few nights later. Despite her parents’ best efforts to induce prudence in the sickly child, Tess had an intense need to prove she wasn’t a coward. Perhaps it was because that was precisely what she was.

Having been homebound for the better part of her childhood, the outside world still terrified her at times. For the most part, she simply gave into that fear and hid in the shelter of her tame little existence, except for rare moments of belligerence and nights like this.

After her experience with Darius the day before, Tess needed to remind herself that she wasn’t a total coward, that she could survive men like Michael, Jason, and D’Angelo. Then again, it wasn’t fair to put Darius in the same category as the other two. He might dominate the toy industry, but she didn’t know him well enough to label him a scoundrel. He truly had appeared shocked that anyone in his employ would steal a design. He had appeared equally shocked that she hadn’t been making a pass at him.

Tess had her own shock to contend with. She had thought the giant behind Calico Toys was older, more frightening, perhaps even demonic. At least that was what his reputation had suggested. The man she met had grit and determination evident in every line of his tight, sinewy body, yet he didn’t have the dictatorial air she had expected. He had appeared assertive, not arrogant; confident, not conceited; strong, not overbearing. Then again, what did she know? If life had taught her anything, it was to never go by first impressions.

Then what did she go by? It had been a long time since anyone had made her senses reel and her heart palpitate, and it had never been so instantaneous before. It took months before Michael had managed even a token arousal from her. Even then, there had been something very manipulative about it all. And that wasn’t the only thing he had manipulated. Michael had controlled her thoughts, her work, her movements. When she finally had the sense to assert herself, he had become hostile.

She didn’t know if Darius was cut from the same cloth, but she was well aware that he had the ability to enflame her as no man ever had before. He was so mesmerizing, so sensual. She wished they had met under different circumstances. Would it have made any difference? Could she really hold her own with a man like Darius? She needed someone less dynamic, less hypnotic, less arousing. Still, she couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to touch him, to run her fingers over his solid frame, to unbutton his shirt. She knew his chest would be well defined and hair-matted like his forearms. She wanted to rest her cheek against that chest. She wanted to feel the strength of his arms around her. Tess’ lips parted. Rain spilled over her tongue, her teeth, slipped down her throat. She tasted an imaginary tongue, inhaled an imaginary scent reminiscent of his spicy cologne.

The rain increased, assaulting her. Ignoring it, she shut her eyes and spun around, fantasizing about heated kisses and sensuous exploration. Then, she became very still, listening not to the tempest around her, but to the rapid beating of her heart, to an inner voice that prompted her to contact Darius D’Angelo and answer his earlier question. No, she didn’t have a lover, and, yes, she would enjoy being his. Could she be that bold? Was he really attracted to her? Or had he simply responded to her unintentional flirting?

Tess dropped her hands and opened her eyes. No, she wasn’t bold, and she doubted a man as extraordinary as Darius would give a mouse like her more than a second thought. Dreams cost nothing, though, and it wouldn’t hurt to pretend for a little while longer, to conjure up his image and hear him whisper her name in that husky voice of his. Suddenly, though, her fantasy became a reality.

A tall, broad shouldered figure sprinted through the dense rain. It was as if her thoughts had made Darius materialize, and she couldn’t help wondering if she had lost her mind.

“Tess, look out!”

His urgent tone didn’t make any sense until she noticed the heavy tree branch swinging toward her. Before she could take another breath, Darius slammed into her, knocking her aside. Although she hit the ground with a thud, she suffered nothing more than an uncomfortable jarring.

“What are...” she began, then sucked in a shattered breath. Inches away, Darius had taken the full impact of the whipping branch. Sprawled out on the wet lawn, he was too still.

Tess scrambled over to him and searched his neck for a pulse. Although she found one, her fingers came away sticky with blood.

CHAPTER THREE

With fear-induced adrenaline giving her strength, Tess dragged Darius into the kitchen. The cats scurried into the adjoining great room. Rascal alternately barked and whimpered.

“Hush up, baby,” Tess ordered as she frantically searched for her cordless phone. Her gaze wandered over white and blue ceramic counter-tops and a large oak table. Before she could retrieve the phone from the latter, Darius moaned.

“It’s okay. I’m going to call for help,” she soothed as she pushed ebony hair out of dark eyes.

For an instant he looked confused, then just as quickly focused. “Are you crazy? Totally out of your mind? You could get yourself killed prancing around out there in a thunderstorm.”

“I don’t prance,” she objected. “Now, hush up while I call for help.”

He pushed himself upward and shrugged his shoulders as if working out knots. “Do I look like I need help?” he snapped.

Subjecting him to an intense but brief scrutiny, Tess observed slightly dilated pupils, but his complexion looked healthy and his voice sounded strong. Her gaze slipped downward. His grass stained shirt gapped open where several buttons had popped. Wet, curling chest hair clung to swarthy skin. Muscles rippled beneath a sharp collarbone.

Unexpected heat jettisoned through Tess, making her swallow hard. She wasn’t used to being sexually aroused by just looking at a man. What was it about Darius D’Angelo that made her want to tackle him to the ground and tear off his clothes? She should be ashamed of herself, especially now. He was bleeding, for goodness sake!

“You should be checked out,” she said, focusing on a point somewhere behind him rather than risk sinking into the dark, sensuous abyss of his gaze.

“The branch only knocked the wind out of me, bruised my shoulders, scratched my neck a bit.”

“You were unconscious, bleeding.”

He slipped his fingers across the back of his neck, then held out his hand. “See, no blood. It stopped.”

Needing to be reassured, she inspected his wound with tender fingers.

He caught her wrist, holding her hand in place. “Your hand is cool, feels good.”

Tess couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. The feel of him melted things inside her, made her want in a way that she hadn’t thought possible. Her gaze drifted back to his. Was that passion she saw? Was it possible that he wanted her as well? This was crazy. Nuts! Not only were they practically strangers, but there was still the question of Holly. What if they couldn’t work things out? Giving into her longings just wasn’t a practical option.

With a shaky breath, she jumped to her feet. “At least let me put some antiseptic on it, and...” She paused, swallowed, as she watched his long frame unravel into a standing position. Beads of water dropped from ebony hair onto a saturated shirt. Gray pants plastered themselves to hard thighs as well as to that other more intimate part of him. “Um... you better get out of those wet clothes.”

He grinned. It was a remarkable grin that didn’t center just around gleaming teeth and sensuous lips, but encompassed his entire face-- changed it, made him appear younger, more carefree, less intimidating. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like the wet look. You look sensational in it.”

Only then did Tess remember she wore nothing but a white cotton nightgown and lace panties. Horrified, she glanced down at herself. Transparent cotton revealed every indentation from turgid nipples and the outline of several ribs to the apex of her thighs. Every instinct told her to run, cover up. Instead, she found herself meeting Darius’ bold scrutiny with defiance. Go on, she thought, look your fill. I’m not a scared little mouse you can frighten away. But she was frightened, not by his inspection, but by the feelings he had elicited with such ease. It was as if someone had lit a torch. Its soft warmth invaded her system, threatening to build, to scorch, to consume. Now she didn’t move because she knew her next step would be toward him, not away.

Darius experienced a paralysis of his own. He had thought her pretty, a wholesome pretty. He was wrong: Tess Montgomery was stunning. He hadn’t expected such full breasts on someone so petite, nor did he expect the delicate suggestion of muscles in her arms and legs. Everything about her was tight and firm, yet her femininity was undeniable in the sweep of a tiny waist and the gentle curve of hips and buttock. To further enhance her sensuous appeal, glistening rain drops scurried down alabaster skin, over cheekbones, along her jaw, neck, collarbone, then between her breasts. Her entire body seemed ready, expectant, from heaving breasts to the slight quiver of parted lips. What aroused Darius the most, though, had nothing to do with her physical attributes, but the startling display of passion in jewel-like eyes. They asked for things he was more than willing to give; they transmitted emotions he couldn’t help emulate.

His smile disappeared as did every ounce of restraint. He stepped toward her. Both hands cupped her face as he searched her expression for some sign of protest, something that would remind him that Tess Montgomery was the last woman in the world that he should kiss.

Tess simply closed her eyes and leaned into him. It was all the encouragement he had needed. He tasted her first. Gentle brushes of his tongue swept her sweet mouth. He swallowed her breath as his bottom lip slipped across her tender pout, taunting, teasing. He inhaled her scent of rain and summer flowers as his thumbs caressed the throbbing pulse beneath her jaw. His senses reeled, devoured by a whirlwind of sensation. Heart pounded. Skin sizzled. Groin pulsated.

“Tess,” he whispered, needing to hear her name, to know this was real, not a dream.

Tess heard a murmur, but she couldn’t discern anything past the thudding of her pulse. Never had she wanted to be kissed more, never had a man teased her lips so mercilessly. It wasn’t enough, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Unwittingly, she touched his wound. His wince cleared her mind somewhat, and she started to pull away. “We shouldn’t...”

“Tess,” he said again, this time his tone urgent, raspy. “It’s okay. Let me...”

The words were lost as he captured her lips, fully this time. His mouth covered hers, igniting sensations as his tongue darted past her teeth and demanded surrender. Tess returned the kiss, holding nothing back despite a distant warning. What was she doing? They knew nothing about each other. Why was he even here?

The questions died as he reasserted his hold on her senses by moving his hands over slender shoulders, sliding down her spine to her buttock, then back again, over and over until she moaned senselessly, until she was compliant, willing, totally unable to resist his ardent advances.

Outside thunder roared, lightning exploded. Darkness suddenly claimed the house. Tess didn’t notice. Darius ignored it. Nothing mattered except the exploration of silken skin, the need to be in and around this woman. He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted anyone this much. There had been women, too many women, affairs that had little to do with the heart and everything to do with sexuality.

He didn’t believe in one night stands, but he didn’t believe in commitment, either. His dating system consisted of warning a woman up front that both love and marriage would never be a consideration. The moment his companion showed signs of wanting more, he’d end the relationship. Usually though, the woman would back out first. Once she realized he had nothing to offer, the initial attraction fizzled quickly.

With Tess, though, there was more than attraction. Something about her touched his heart. Or was he hallucinating? After all, it had been over a year since he had dated, two years since he had slept with anyone. Emotionless relationships held little appeal, but he didn’t dare risk more. He refused to jeopardize the world of security that he had built for both himself and his fifteen-year old son on the off-chance that lasting love was a possibility.

Only, at this moment, he wanted to make love and have it mean more than sexual release. Still, the thought in and of itself wasn’t enough to cool his ardor. Not when Tess’ hands were roaming over his chest, pushing open his shirt. Not when her mouth felt so warm and accessible. Certainly not when a flimsy barrier of cotton was all that stood between him and sampling her wonderful attributes even further.

Tess experienced the same need and was near the point of total abandon when the lights returned. Eyes open, she caught a glimpse of entwined bodies in the reflection of arched windows. Who was this stranger in her arms? How could she allow this? The sensations pouring through her wouldn’t stop, but she suddenly remembered that sex without love left one feeling miserable and degraded. She experienced enough of that during her marriage.

She pushed away from Darius so suddenly, she would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her arms.

“What...” he began, looking dazed.

“No!” she exclaimed. “I can’t do this. We can’t...”

Darius released her, ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” A small grin accompanied a derisory laugh. “I take that back. Seeing you practically naked is what came over me.”

His words only erected fresh spasms of desire. She stood there, paralyzed by sensation. Breathe, she ordered herself. Do it!

He kept his gaze plastered to the floor. “Tess, please, put something on before I go out of my mind.”

His remark broke her paralysis. Within seconds, she was at her bedroom closet, tearing off the wet nightgown and donning an oversized Mickey Mouse T-shirt and spandex shorts. Reaching into a far corner, she pulled out jeans and a black Aliens T-shirt that her brother had left during his last visit. She carried the outfit back into the kitchen and handed it to Darius. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, to the left.”

After he left, she finger combed her hair and fashioned a haphazard French braid, tying the ends with the rubber band that had been wrapped around the morning paper. Chills raced up and down her spine, making her shiver. Grabbing a kettle, she placed it on a lit burner and hoped a hot cup of tea would chase away the cold. But she knew the weather didn’t cause the chill. It scared her to think she had nearly succumbed to Darius’ advances. Just what had happened between them? True, she was somewhat starved for a relationship, but she had lived that way for years.

After Michael, she hadn’t been able to trust anyone. It had taken a long time to build her self-esteem, and even longer to believe every man wasn’t out to destroy her. The few relationships she had since Michael had been with kind, decent men, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep with them. She simply couldn’t tolerate intimacy without love. And, no matter how hard she had tried, she couldn’t fall in love. Perhaps Michael had destroyed that part of her. Even if he hadn’t, Tess had finally decided to stop searching for a relationship, and had planned the rest of her life accordingly, including a stable financial future and eventually parenthood.

When she had come across Calico’s Ad for Baby Alive that morning, all her plans dissolved. She had put so much money and time into developing the product, she had invested little into any other project. She had to prove Baby Alive was her creation, and she didn’t want to do it in court. It would eat up too much revenue, take too much time. With Darius in her home, she had another shot at this. Yesterday, he had been willing to negotiate and instead of taking advantage of his generous mood, she had run away like a frightened mouse. Since then, she hadn’t been able to think rationally. Even while sorting out the delivery crisis, part of her couldn’t stop thinking about her reactions to Darius. His penetrating gaze had mesmerized her. The raspy quality to his tone had haunted her. His touch had paralyzed her. Dear God, what was going on? Why did he affect her so?

All the sensations he had provoked came rushing back. Her knees felt weak. The core of her desire throbbed. Knowing there was only one way to get control, Tess ignored the whistling kettle and slipped into a meditative mode, thinking of a still lake, deep, cool, calm. She could do this. She was strong. She was... a little girl again, wishing she were brave. No! She wouldn’t revert. Still lake. Calm day. No emotion.

The kettle continued to whistle. Rain plummeted the small cottage. Rascal nuzzled her leg. Tess lost herself in the stillness of the imaginary lake.

* * *

The cathedral ceiling bathroom had a pedestal sink and sunken bathtub, surrounded by long windows and a glass shower stall. Mauve and ivory sponge painted walls were accented with watercolor prints while a potted eucalyptus plant hugged one corner. The room was as large as Darius’ own master bath even though the rest of Tess’ cottage was much smaller than his home.

As he stripped off his sodden clothes, he imagined making love to Tess in the over-sized tub, bubbles drifting, candles flickering, Tess moaning. Sucking in a deep breath, he let it out slowly. “Watch it, DJ, you’re getting in too deep, too quick.”

The words of caution evaporated as he donned the dry clothes and experienced a surge of jealousy. Did the outfit belong to an old lover? A present one? Would she have kissed him with such wild abandon if she were involved with someone? Women cheated everyday. Still, he didn’t detect any male paraphernalia around: no masculine shaving equipment or cologne, no extra toothbrush. If Tess had a lover, he didn’t live here.

Darius cringed at the relief he felt. Damn it, he acted as if he intended to pursue this woman. It was out of the question, impossible! If that were true, why was he here? Why hadn’t he been able to stop thinking about her? Ah hell, he knew damn well why. There was something about Tess that got under his skin. He wanted to believe her regardless of the possible financial loss. Even more, he wanted to pursue her, make love to her over and over again until he got her out of his system. He didn’t want to consider what would happen if he didn’t get her out of his system.

After hanging his wet clothes over the shower stall door, he followed the hall toward the great room where another cathedral ceiling displayed skylights and a huge window framed the Delaware River. A stone fireplace stood between the great room and kitchen while a combination of white-washed Rattan and wicker furnishings produced a pleasant seating arrangement. Photos, probably of family, dominated the mantel, while a nearby shelf housed a collection of castles in porcelain, bisque, sand, terra cotta, and sterling. A cat bed, with two dozing tabbies, resided next to a chintz covered sofa.

From everything he had observed, she lived alone, liked castles and open spaces, and had a fondness for pets. He also concluded that she had to be at least thirty. Not that she looked it. Her alabaster complexion lacked any ravages of maturity, but he knew Illusions had been around for at least seven years and Tess had worked at Tubular Toys before that. She simply couldn’t be as young as she appeared. At least, he hoped she wasn’t. He didn’t need an age barrier to complicate an already very complicated situation. A hardy sigh escaped him. There he went again, acting as if he were sizing up a potential lover. He had to stop this. He had to get out of here. He didn’t. Instead, he entered the kitchen, discovered the whistling kettle and plucked it off the stove before severing the flame.

“Hey,” he began. “Are you--”

Seeing her standing there so still, so quiet, he broke off. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought her beautiful from the first moment they had met. He didn’t think he had ever encountered anyone more beautiful. Or, was he seeing her with different eyes now? She had touched something inside him, and he would never see her in the same light again.

“Tess,” he said softly.

Her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at him as if he were an illusion.

“Are you all right?”

“I needed to think.”

“I see.”

“Meditate.”

“This very minute?”

“I needed to calm myself.”

A knowing gleam entered his gaze. “I understand.”

Rosy hues stained her cheeks. “It’s not about... about... you know.”

“If you say so.”

“Listen, Mr. D’Angelo, I really think--”

“Mr. D’Angelo?” he interrupted. “Don’t you think it’s a little late to be so formal?”

A defiant light entered her eyes, then just as quickly vanished. “Guess it is.”

“People call me DJ.”

“You don’t look like a DJ.”

“Oh?”

“You look like a Darius.”

“I do?”

“I mean, DJ is for some ordinary guy who frequents the local bar to watch Monday night football.”

“So, you don’t think I’m ordinary?”

“No.”

“What do you think?” His tone was very somber, very low as if her opinion truly mattered.

“Would you like some tea or coffee, Mr. D’Ang... Darius?” she evaded.

Darius would have liked an answer, but he didn’t have the energy to press. Smoldering passion had erupted all over again, and he needed every ounce of strength to keep his hands off her. “Do you have anything stronger?”

“Scotch.”

“Where?”

She pointed to a cupboard.

He stomped over to it, yanked down a bottle, and resisted the urge to uncap and pour the liquid fire straight down his throat. “Glass?”

“Next cupboard down.”

He grabbed two glasses, poured a healthy amount into each, then handed her one.

“Ice?” she began to ask, only to discover he was already attacking the drink with desperate vigor.

Watching him, she added both ice and water to her Scotch, then swallowed a mouthful. As instant warmth spread through her system, she realized the Scotch was a much better choice than tea would have been.

Taking her drink into the great room, she lowered herself to the sofa and tucked her feet under her. Darius followed, taking the bottle with him. Pacing, he poured a second glassful, then deposited the bottle on the mantel. Both cats lifted their heads lazily, followed Darius’ route a few times, then settled back into their bed. Rascal eyed him warily as he positioned himself just below Tess on the carpet.

Tess wanted to discuss the kiss. Heck, she wanted him to kiss her again, but she didn’t know how to approach the former, and she certainly wasn’t about to initiate the latter. Instead, she went in another direction.

“I appreciate your timely arrival tonight. If you didn’t knock me out of the way, I would have taken a direct hit to the head and would probably still be unconscious.”

His brow furrowed. “But why were you--”

“Prancing?” she supplied, using his earlier description.

“Yes, prancing,” he agreed with a brief smile.

“It’s a silly little ritual I do to prove I’m not scared.”

“Who are you proving it to?”

“Myself.”

“Why?”

Tess wasn’t about to get into her childhood, and how hard it had been to face not just the monsters in the closet but the very real monsters that her twenty-two allergies had produced. To protect her, Tess’ parents had schooled her at home. All interaction with the outside world had come through her older brother and frequent trips to the local hospital. Miraculously, most of Tess’ allergies had abated by adolescence, and she had finally been allowed to enter society. Alternately terrified and ecstatic, Tess had somehow managed to become a normal, productive woman. Sometimes, though, the fear outweighed wonder, and with it the need to prove herself. Darius wouldn’t be interested in any of this any more than she would be willing to confide in him. He probably considered her a mouse as it was. No need to reinforce his opinion of her.

With practiced ease, she circumvented his question by asking one of her own. “Why are you here, Darius?”

He hesitated an instant. Did he tell her that he couldn’t stop thinking about her, that she haunted his thoughts, invaded his blood stream, enraptured his senses? He was here simply because he couldn’t stay away. Sometimes the truth just wasn’t advantageous. Instead, he pointed to the counter where several books had been tucked into a corner. “I brought back your product development journals. I knocked, but there wasn’t an answer.”

“So, you decided to just break in?”

“No breaking involved. Your door was unlocked. Perhaps I shouldn’t have barged in, but it was obvious someone was home.” He shrugged. “Since I was afraid you might have suffered another asthma attack, I went looking for you. ”

“I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself.”

“If you say so,” he returned dryly.

His obvious disbelief irritated her. She wanted him to respect her, to acknowledge her strength, and to see her as an independent, intelligent woman. Only, she didn’t know how to go about doing that. With a sigh, she glanced at the rain streaming down the windowpanes and tried to figure out how to bring about the subject of Holly.

Darius poured his third drink. He was no longer pacing, but he was a long way from being calm. There was only one thing that would calm him: about four or five hours of vigorous lovemaking. He doubted Tess would oblige. Forcing himself to sit, he silently stared into the liquor and unconsciously tapped his foot.

“We never finished our discussion yesterday,” she blurted, switching her gaze from the window to Darius’ brooding form.

“We did. I’m still investigating,” he supplied, quirking an amused brow. “However if you had wanted to add something, you shouldn’t have run off.”

It was an effort for Tess to keep her gaze locked with his. “I...um...I wasn’t prepared for your advances.”

“Don’t be coy, Tess. I’m certain this isn’t the first time a man came on to you.”

“It’s not,” she admitted. “But I usually see it coming and manage to advert it.”

He cocked his head. “Why? Aren’t you interested in men?”

“Of course I am, I’m just not interested in a fling. Besides, I prefer less aggressive men.”

“Why?” he asked again.

She dropped her gaze. “I just do.”

“A bad experience?” he ventured.

He hit so close to the mark, Tess flushed. This wasn’t what she wanted to discuss, and she’d be darned if she’d bare her soul just so he’d cooperate. “You could have sent a courier,” she averted.

“What?”

“A courier. Why didn’t you just have someone deliver the journals? Why did you come yourself?”

This was the third time she had avoided his question by asking one of her own. It was a maneuver he often used himself. Although he wasn’t surprised she had mastered it, he was amazed that she had asked such an unsettling question. A less defensive man might have blurted the truth. Darius’ defenses, though, had been honed by years of cynicism.

“I wanted to know more about Holly,” he answered without a trace of the ever present passion.

“You really didn’t know Jason stole my design, did you?”

“As far as I’m concerned it is Jason’s invention until proven otherwise.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. I am surprised, though, that no one noticed we both had nearly the same product at the Toy Fair. Then again, we don’t attract the same trade. Toys-R-Us doesn’t even know Illusions exists, let alone--”

Darius looked up. Eyes narrowed. “You exhibited Holly at the fair?”

She nodded. “Didn’t you present Baby Alive?”

“We were having problems with the prototype.”

“My prototype has been ready for about eight months.”

A vein twitched in his temple. “All that proves is that you worked out the kinks sooner we did. The design could still be Jason’s.”

Tess tossed back the rest of her drink. “Jason wouldn’t know how to design a high-tech toy if the blueprint was right in front of him.”

Unblinking, Darius considered the accusation. Three years ago, Jason had presented the idea for a doll with holographic expressions. All the technology hadn’t been worked out, but Tommy had assured Darius that Jason had the experience and expertise to deliver a workable product. Since Tommy was the expert, Darius never questioned Jason’s capability. And Tommy would have come to Darius if there had been any problems during development. That is unless Tommy had figured out the technology himself and had covered for Jason. Darius immediately dismissed the thought. Tommy was passive, but he wasn’t a doormat. If there had been a problem, Darius would have known.

“Why did you testify against your husband?”

A violent slap would have been less jarring. Tess sucked in a breath as remembered fear chilled her blood. “That’s none of your business.” Then, in an angry, hurt tone. “Besides, aren’t you the one who said the past has nothing to do with the present?”

“I didn’t think so at first, but seeing how you hold such a low opinion of Jason I’m assuming you’ve confused his character with that of your ex-husband’s. ”

“I haven’t confused anything. I had the idea for Baby Alive over nine years ago. Jason stole my work books. It has nothing to do with Michael’s character or his trial.”

“You’re certain of that?”

“Yes.”

“And, of course you don’t have any proof that Jason stole your books?”

“Things would be a lot easier if I did?”

Darius rubbed the back of his neck. She sounded so sincere. And God help him, he wanted to believe her so desperately. He couldn’t. He might not care for Jason Phillips, but he was still an employee. Without evidence, he had to give Jason the benefit of the doubt.

Darius glanced at the Scotch, wanted another drink, but refrained from it. The liquor had taken the edge of off his nerves, but had also heightened his awareness. Tess seemed all the more desirable. Her glistening lips beckoned. Her curves tempted. His entire body burned. Was this irresistible attraction to Tess his only reason for wanting to believe her? What if she were an eighty-year old crone? Would he still be so solicitous? If she looked at him with such guiltless eyes, he probably would. At least, he hoped he would. “Would you consider letting me see your prototype?”

“It’s not here, but I’ll bring it by your office tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“Your lawyer would probably advise against it.”

“I’d be willing to resolve things without lawyers. How about you?”

He stared into her steady gaze, into the serenity of her composed expression. “If I am as ruthless and manipulative as my reputation suggests, you could lose out in an arrangement like that.”

“If you were true to your reputation, you wouldn’t be so willing to work this out.”

He stood, placed his glass carefully next to the liquor bottle. “For what it’s worth, I’m a fair man, Tess. I still don’t know who to believe, but I would like to work things out. Regardless of what you believe Jason stole, I still believe this might be a case of parallel development. We face this problem everyday. After all inventors, marketers, designers, packagers and art directors all watch for the trends in the same places and ask themselves the same question: what does the public find appealing? What marketing concept will sell?”

Tess ran her finger around the rim of the glass. “I don’t believe he stole anything. I know it.”

“You can’t steal an idea, Tess. It’s out there for anyone who’s willing to make it a reality.”

“I told you, it was more than an idea when he stole my books. I had already developed theories, established technology, formalized programs. It might still have been in its infancy, but it was a design, not an idea.”

“Tommy Banks has been Baby Alive’s project leader since Jason came to us with the idea. If Jason had been anything less than competent and ethical, if he would have suspected that the design didn’t belong to Jason, Tommy would have told me.”

Tess slammed her empty glass down on the end table; a small crack ran up its side. “If Tommy Banks tells you everything, then how come he didn’t inform you that Jason should still be in jail.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Shock gave way to anger. Why hadn’t personnel picked up on that? “I didn’t know.”

Color saturated Tess’ complexion. “I shouldn’t have told you... that was mean, nasty. It’s just that--” Her hands fanned out in a helpless gesture. “I just can’t stand the thought of that man always getting away with everything.”

“What else has he gotten away with?”

“Obviously, spousal abuse. I heard he had appealed the case, but I didn’t think he’d win. That was why I was so shocked to see him. I thought he was still in jail.”

“Is there anything else I should know about Jason?”

“Would it do any good to tell you? Until you believe I had created Baby Alive, anything else I say about him is subjective.”

“You have a point, but I wouldn’t be here with you now if I didn’t have my doubts about Jason.”

“In the end, it doesn’t matter who created the product. We both have a lot to lose if we don’t come to an agreement.” She ran her fingers along Rascal’s fluffy white coat. “How about this? If Holly convinces you that the original idea was mine, we negotiate something that’s fair to both of us.”

If the product turned out to be Tess’ creation, she could sue him up one side and down the other. On the other hand, even if the original idea wasn’t hers, she had created a better product. Either way, he’d profit from an agreement. On a more personal note, he needed to know the truth. He could no longer fight his attraction to Tess. Not that he was under the illusion that they could have a lasting relationship, but he’d take anything: a year, a month, a night. He just couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life without having been intimate with her.

He made his way to her and held out his hand as he had numerous times before. “I can live with that.”

She allowed him to pull her to her feet. “You’re really a fair man, aren’t you?”

“I try to be.”

“Then how come you’re known as the tyrant of toyland?”

He laughed softly. “I started that rumor myself. I thought it would keep people honest.”

“Has it worked?”

He shrugged. “For the most part.”

His voice dropped a husky notch. He released her hand slowly, reluctantly. “The rain has let up. I should be going.”

“Yes,” she agreed, hands at her sides, body very erect, very still. “What time should I come by tomorrow?”

He stared at her hair, her eyes, the luscious pout of her bottom lip. “Is nine o’clock too early?”

She returned his scrutiny, knowing she shouldn’t - also knowing she couldn’t help herself. “Nine is good.”

“I’ll just change back into my clothes, okay?”

“It’s not necessary. Your things are probably still wet,” Tess insisted.

His gaze slipped over her, wishing he didn’t have to leave. All his normal barriers and safeguards crumbled in the wake of her easy, tranquil personality. A man could easily spend his life with a woman like her; he could learn to love a woman like her. Yet again, Darius knew he was courting trouble. At the same time, he didn’t know how to stop the incessant tide of emotions rushing through him.

“Won’t somebody miss the outfit?” he asked pointedly.

“My brother, Joe, left them on his last visit. Considering he’s in Europe, I doubt he’ll have use of them.”

“They belong to your brother?”

“Yes, he--” she broke off, blushing. “Oh, you thought...”

“What was I supposed to think?”

“That I wouldn’t kiss one person if I were involved with another?”

“I don’t know you well enough to deduce that.”

She met his gaze, held it. “I wouldn’t.”

“Neither would I,” he returned, letting her know he was also available.

She smiled that sweet half smile of hers and ran a finger over the edge of his jaw. “I’m glad.”

That slight touch was like flint to tinder, and for an instant, Darius contemplated kissing her again. But he knew a kiss wouldn’t be enough, and they needed a little more trust between them before they went any further. “Tomorrow,” he said, then made his way to the door.

* * *

The next morning, Tess snatched the phone off the oak desk in her office and punched out numbers. A sleepy male voice erupted on the other end. “Hello...”

“Did I wake you?”

“Oh my God, it’s past eight. I should have been there by now,” announced Pete Marstan, Tess’ assistant.

“The baby had you up again?”

“Colic.”

“Poor thing.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still no excuse. This is the third time this month that I’m late. Not to mention I just took two consecutive sick days.”

“You needed them.”

“I wasn’t sick, just tired.”

“I understand.”

“You shouldn’t. You should be mad as hell. You should call me on the carpet and read me the riot act. You should--”

“Tell you to shut up,” she finished for him. “Pete, you are one of the hardest workers I know. Besides, I’m taking care of things.”

“No crisis?”

“One or two, but I’m handling them.”

“Uh oh.”

“What do you mean, uh oh?”

“Nothing. I’m coming in.”

“You are not! I’m doing fine.”

“Okay, great, fantastic, you’re doing fine. Now tell me what the hell is going on.”

Tess skimmed over the events of the previous two days, detailing the delivery disaster, but glossing over the plagiarism problem. “I really think once Darius... um... Mister D’Angelo sees Holly he’ll know that the design belongs to Illusions.”

Tess heard Pete’s sigh through the phone line. “You can be so damn naive. Do you really believe the tyrant of toyland is going to be fair about this? Our only hope is to sue his pants off.”

“A compromise would be better. Have you seen our profit and loss statement lately? We put everything we had into Holly. If we go to court, we’re talking lay-offs, possibly bankruptcy.”

“Well, then, at least take a lawyer with you. Um, we do have one on retainer, don’t we?”

“Not any longer, but don’t worry.” Tess remembered Darius strength, his willingness to listen... His kiss. “Darius is a fair man. We’ll be okay.” She plucked the portable display case off the floor. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Just before she hung up, she heard Pete mutter. “We’re dead. On the slab, in the drawer, dead.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later, a receptionist ushered Tess into the boardroom. It was as massive as she remembered, but this time it was totally empty. Tess was the first one to arrive. Putting the display case on the floor, she glanced out the window. The worst of the storm had passed, yet rain bloated clouds still dominated the sky, making the room with its long mahogany table and contemporary chairs seem gloomy despite the overhead lighting.

Had it really been only forty-eight hours since she had been here? So much had happened. For the first time since she had seen Calico’s ad for Baby Alive, Tess believed, despite Pete’s dire prediction, that everything would work out, and not just in business either. Throughout a long sleepless night, Tess kept thinking about Darius’ kiss, the feel of his body, the strength imbedded in his direct gaze, and she realized that she wanted him in her life. However, she intended to take things very slow. Although she sensed that Darius’ wouldn’t try to control her like Michael had, she wasn’t sure if she was up to braving a man like Darius. She was no longer a doormat, but she wasn’t a fighter either. The thought of being on guard twenty-four hours a day just wasn’t appealing. Then again, maybe all her speculation was for nothing. Just because he had kissed her didn’t mean he was interested in anything more. After all, few men would resist a willing body in a see-through nightgown.

Darius walked into the room and smiled. He wore a navy blue suit and a white shirt with a banded collar. His hair had been combed back, making his features appear bolder, more distinguished like a knight of old. Her insides warmed. The room seemed brighter.

“Hi,” she said with a small smile.

“Hey,” he returned. “Would you like some coffee? Tea?”

“Thank you, but no. I’m--”

Before she could finish, Tommy Banks and Cathy and Tim Dobber entered. Tommy looked disheveled, tired. He nodded at Tess, then took a seat as far away from her as possible. Both Cathy and Tim smiled. Cathy plopped in the chair at the head of the table and pulled out a cigarette.

“Don’t even think it,” Darius directed.

“Ah, com’on, DJ. Just one.”

“Not my call. This is a smoke-free building.”

Cathy stuck out her tongue and palmed the smoke. “Guess we better get down to business before the nicotine craving gets too bad.”

Everyone focused on Tess. Fear slammed into her. What if she couldn’t convince them that the holographic doll was her design? What if Darius thought she was a fraud?

Breathe, she silently commanded. Again.

Leaning over, she unlocked the display case, then pulled out a ten inch doll that resembled an blond, blue-eyed infant. It wore a pink one-piece pajama and a lace-edged bib. After gently placing the doll on the mahogany table, Tess reached into her pouch and recovered two small cases. She retracted a computer chip from one and a disk from the other. Next, she opened a panel on the doll and slipped in the hardware.

“I call her Holly,” Tess began. “She--”

“Turn her on,” Tommy interrupted, a sharp edge evident in his usually quiet tone. “I want to see how she works.”

Obliging, Tess squeezed the doll’s left hand. Suddenly, the inanimate toy became incredibly lifelike. Arms and legs moved, her face screwed up in a pout and huge tears spilled down rosy cheeks as the baby fussed. An instant later, the doll’s mouth parted and a huge wail emerged. Tess placed a baby bottle against her lips and the tears stopped as the doll made sucking sounds.

As Tess continued to put Holly through her routine, Darius watched in amazement. His own product seemed cumbersome next to hers. He wondered if Tess would agree to sell Holly outright. He wondered if she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He wondered if she would be opposed to skipping the rest of the meeting and going to the nearest hotel.

Whoa, DJ, slow down, he ordered himself. But he didn’t want to slow down, he wanted to take her away, someplace private where he could sample her lips and explore every ravishing inch of her. And the woman was more than ravishing. Unlike most women in business, she didn’t wear the customary suit. Instead, Tess wore an ultra feminine azure blue and cream flowered dress. Cap sleeves showed off slender arms while a sweetheart neck hinted at tantalizing cleavage. A French braid climbed down her back as several wisps framed a lightly made-up face. God, she was gorgeous, but something was missing, something essential: a smile, laughter. What would she look like if she smiled? Not one of those small, sweet ones that she threw at him now and then, but a full fledge, dynamite, knock-your-socks-off smile. Next time they were alone, he’d coax one out of her, maybe even make her laugh. Now, though, he had to concentrate on business.

He moved across the room, holding out his hands when he reached Tess. “May I?”

While placing the infant doll in his arms, her fingers became momentarily trapped between the doll and his hard chest. Heat erupted with volcanic intensity. Their eyes clashed, and for an instant the world evaporated.

Darius remembered their kiss and found his imagination taking it a step further. Lips on lips. Flesh against flesh. Tasting. Touching. Sweet joy. Euphoric release. He instinctively knew their love making would be as exquisite as their kiss had been. Oh God, he wanted her. Needed her. Damn it, control yourself, he silently ordered.

Tess battled visions of her own. Pale hands moving over swarthy skin. Warm breaths. Soft moans. Taunting. Questing. Fulfilling. How could she think such things now of all times? Why couldn’t she stop thinking them? It was as if he were a hypnotist, mesmerizing her, controlling her.

“No,” she whispered, not realizing she had said it aloud.

“Am I doing something wrong, Tess?”

Her name slid off his tongue like silk, softly, intimately. Her name never sounded so beautiful. “No... nothing.”

She yanked her hand free and lowered her gaze, focusing on the doll. “She smells like baby powder.”

“Yes,” he agreed, heart racing. “Ours doesn’t. Nice touch.”

“I’m working on other disks so Holly will have even more facial expressions,” she added, pulse erratic, breathing forced.

His groin pulsated. “She looks incredibly real, more so then ours.”

Tess’ hands trembled. “It’s the casing. It’s a blend of cotton and brushed silk hardened with acrylic.”

He couldn’t stop staring at Tess’ mouth. Pink. Soft. Inviting. “You shouldn’t share any secrets until after we come to an agreement.”

“Yes,” she returned without really knowing why. She’d share anything with this man. Something inside told her she could trust him implicitly. Only, she wished she had a little more control. His heat kept coming at her, claiming her. She would have backed away, but was trapped between the table and his hot body. Her senses swirled. She couldn’t concentrate. What was he doing to her?

“Tess?”

Pushing past him, she walked to the window and stared out. Below, people scurried across the city street, business people with phones growing out of their ears, teens wearing backpacks, children tottering after parents. She wanted to be down there with them. She wanted to be anywhere but this close to a man who had the ability to enflame her senses past the point of coherency. No, what she really wanted was to be alone with him, to act on those sensations that flared so easily. Breathe, she told herself. Again. Once more.

“Tess,” he repeated. “Is something wrong?”

She turned, watching him, wanting him. The doll squirmed. “Squeeze her arm to deactivate her.”

He followed her instructions. Suddenly Holly appeared to be like any other doll. “I’d really like to meet your tech person,” he said. “Then again, perhaps that wouldn’t be a good idea. I might try to steal him or her from you.”

“That would be some trick considering I’m the tech person. I’ve designed Holly, programmed her, and invented the holographic microchip.”

“Like hell!” announced a familiar male voice.

Jason Phillips stood in the doorway, rage evident in every line of his long body. “That’s my prototype. The one you stole from me. I had to go with an older design because it was all I had left.”

Anger whipped through Tess’ system. “And just how the heck was I supposed to steal anything when I haven’t seen you for nearly eight years?”

“Come off it, baby. How could you forget all those hot nights in my apartment?”

“What!? Are you out of your mind? I wouldn’t sleep with you if the existence of humanity depended on it.”

Jason received the full measure of Darius’ rage. “You said you weren’t lovers.”

“I lied. I--” Jason’s expression harbored exaggerated elements of shame. “I knew I’d be fired if you discovered I had taken the prototype home. But I was more comfortable working there. I never suspected my lover would steal from me.”

“You can’t get away with this.” Tess’ words were brittle, lost. One look at Darius’ smoldering eyes, and she knew that Jason had already gotten away with it.

“Don’t listen to him,” she insisted, walking toward Darius. “Anyone who knows me would realize I’d never--”

Darius held up his hand. He didn’t want to believe Jason, but he harbored just enough cynicism to listen. “I think I better hear him out in private, then I’ll let you have your say.”

Tess stiffened except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “I’ll wait in the lounge.”

For an instant, Darius considered ordering Jason out. After all, the man had lied about doing jail time on his application, he could be lying now. Then again, he only had Tess’ word on that. What did he really know about her except that she scorched his senses without even trying?

“Stay.” He turned to Cathy. “Show Tess to my office in about fifteen minutes. Jason, come with me.”

Jason hesitated. “I... um...”

“What?” Darius snapped.

“It’s important that Tommy be there.”

Darius sighed. “Very well. Let’s go.”

* * *

“There is one thing that troubles me about all this,” Darius stated, once they were in his office. “How the hell can you sleep with a woman who you feel is responsible for your brother’s death?”

Although Darius remained standing, both Jason and Tommy settled into chairs. Jason pulled out a pack of cigarettes and studied them as if they were immensely interesting.

“I don’t know,” Jason answered. “There’s just something so damn irresistible about her. She could make a man crawl into hell for her and enjoy it.”

Darius knew the feeling, knew it all too well. He had felt that way about his ex-wife right up until he discovered his wife had been sleeping with any man willing to oblige.

“I had run into her at the Toy Fair a few years back. At first, I snubbed her, but she kept making advances. One thing led to another and before I knew it, we couldn’t get enough of each other.” Derision peppered Jason’s abrupt laugh. “I now know it was all one sided. I couldn’t get enough of her. She was using me.”

“Why?”

He looked up, briefly. “Isn’t obvious. I started talking about my work. She was the one who had urged me to bring it home so that we could spend more time together. About a week or so before I had put the finishing touches on the design, she let herself into my apartment when I wasn’t there. She took my disks, my journals, and the prototype. That’s why it wasn’t ready for the Toy Fair. Tommy and I had to start from scratch.”

Jason shoved the cigarettes back into his pocket. “When I confronted Tess, she denied that she took anything, but also added that our relationship wasn’t working. She didn’t love me anymore.”

Darius walked to the window and stared. Rain suddenly erupted, splattering the panes. The sky darkened to a deeper shade of gray. All Darius saw was an image of Tess - sweet, feminine, alluring. Was Jason describing the same person? His ex-wife had been manipulative, but she had an arrogance about her from the moment they had met. He had mistaken it for assertiveness. Tess appeared so different. But what did he know? His entire family had a horrible track record when it came to picking partners. His parents as well as his sister had been divorced twice, his brother once. Hell, Tess didn’t need to be a great con-artist to fool him; she just needed to know when to bat those spiky eyelashes of hers.

He turned back, fists clenched, knuckles white. “Why didn’t you tell me this back in January before the fair? Didn’t you realize she would try to market the doll?”

“I was certain we’d have Baby Alive on the shelves before she landed her first investor. I never expected her to turn the tables on me.”

“Do you have any proof of this?”

Jason looked at Tommy. “Go on. Tell him.”

Pale as chalk, Tommy kept his gaze fastened to the floor. “Um... well, yeah. It’s true. I saw the lady at his apartment. I’ve worked on the prototype. It’s... um... it’s the same one. Tess Montgomery stole it.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Tess took a seat and remained very still. She envisioned deep, cool waters, cloudless skies, serene mountains. She concentrated on keeping her breathing even, level. Stating her case with calm efficiency was the only way she would be able to beat Jason Phillips at his nasty game. Would Darius give her the chance to defend herself? How could he ever believe she’d sleep with her dead husband’s twin? Then again, Darius knew nothing about her. Jason could make him believe anything.

Tim shuffled his feet, glanced at Tess, then Cathy. “Well, um, I have some work to do. Beep me if you need anything, okay?”

At Cathy’s nod, he slipped out of the room.

Cathy propped herself up on the table near Tess’ chair and pulled out a cigarette. “If it’s any consolation, I believe you. Jason Phillips couldn’t comprehend first grade software let alone design a high-tech toy. Besides that, he’s a creep.”

Tess couldn’t help a small smile. “Well, at least someone around here sees through him.”

Cathy lit the cigarette and inhaled as if it she were sucking on candy. “Things will work out. Darius is a fair man. You’ll see.”

“I hope so. I really don’t want to end up in litigation,” Tess said after a hardy cough. The smoke agitated her asthma, but she wasn’t about to mention it to the only ally she had.

“You won’t as long as you’re not bullheaded about a compromise. I mean, if we have to trash Baby Alive, Calico stock will plummet through the floorboards.”

Tess coughed again, harder. “I’m not bullheaded. I hope--” Another bout of coughing severed her words.

Frowning, Cathy looked at her cigarette, then at Tess. “This bothers you, doesn’t it?”

Still coughing Tess shook her head.

Smiling, Cathy smashed the smoke against the underside of the table, then threw it in a trash can. “You are sweet, really sweet, but let’s get out of here before you pass out from smoke inhalation. It’s been about fifteen minutes anyway.”

The instant Tess entered the hall, she felt better, but knew a tug on the inhaler wouldn’t hurt. “I left my things in the board room,” she said, about to turn back.

“Hey Cathy,” a young, strong voice erupted. “My Dad around?”

“In his office, but he’s busy.”

Totally unabashed, the boy grinned. “He’s never too busy for me.”

“Cocky little brat. Just like his old man,” Cathy teased, then turned to Tess. “Tess, this is Luke, Darius’ son.”

Tess’ eyes widened. “Son?”

“He’s been a single dad since Luke was a born. That’s why Luke’s such a brat.” Cathy teased.

“As bratty as they come,” Luke agreed, then cocked his head. “Hey, are you an intern? So am I. Well, sort of. John-- Um, he’s Cathy’s step-son and my best bud. Well, him and I are interns this year. Maybe, you’d like to have lunch with...”

“Whoa, slow down, cowboy,” Cathy interrupted. “Tess is a business associate of your Dad’s not a teeny bopper like yourself.”

Luke leaned back on his heel and gave Tess a bold once over. “No way.”

“I’m thirty-one, Luke.”

Luke’s ruddy complexion didn’t show a trace of embarrassment. “You wouldn’t happen to have a kid sister, would you?”

Tess couldn’t help a small smile. “If I did, I’d be delighted to introduce you.”

“Only sixteen years old and already he’s incorrigible,” Cathy complained.

“It’s a gift,” Luke countered, then started a continuous stream of nonsensical chatter as they made their way down the hall.

Tess warmed to the boy instantly. Who wouldn’t? He was charming and amicable with a wide grin, bright blue eyes and short-cropped reddish brown hair. He certainly didn’t resemble his father except for certain gestures, and the way he affected a direct, impenetrable stare. How did one so young manage it?

“Listen, Luke, this isn’t a good time to see your dad,” Cathy began, once they reached Darius’ office. “Why don’t you--”

Before she could finish, Luke barged through the door, leaving Cathy and Tess to follow.

“Hey, dad, I was wondering if we could--”

“Luke, I’m in a meeting. I’ll met you in the boardroom in about ten minutes, okay?”

Frowning, Luke looked about to protest, then just nodded. “Hey, you’re the boss.”

Spinning on his heel, he headed toward the door, winking at Tess on the way out.

Luke’s joviality contrasted against Darius somber stare. Jason didn’t look worried at all, while Tommy Banks appeared guilty, defeated. More than anything Tess wished she had her inhaler handy. Between the smoke still caught in her lungs and her growing anxiety, her chest began to tighten. She took in slow, calming breaths. This wasn’t the time for an attack.

“You know my son,” Darius demanded in a harsh, impatient tone.

Tess cleared her throat, coughed. “We just met.”

“I don’t want you near him ever again.”

His anger stung like a whip. “You’re not even going to give me a chance to defend myself, are you?”

“There is no defense. Tommy verified everything. He saw you in Jason’s apartment.”

“Tommy, how could you?” Cathy blurted in an angry tone. “You know damn well--”

“Let it go,” Darius ordered. “I’ve known Tommy since grade school, I trust him not to lie.”

“But he did,” Tess refuted, trying to rein in her stress. “I’ll prove it to you, if you’ll just--”

“If you have anything to prove, prove it in court. I don’t want to hear any more lies,” he proclaimed, his tone holding as much hurt as it did rage. The hurt stunned her, but also made her realize that she had gotten to him just as he had gotten to her. Yet, despite having touched something inside each other, he still wasn’t willing to hear her out. That cut more deeply than his anger, more intensely than his chilling words.

“I told you the truth,” she said softly, needing to defend herself despite knowing it did little good.

For a brief instant, Darius believed her. Face pale, eyes clear and direct, stance arrow straight, she looked incapable of duplicity. Looks, though, deceived. Shelly, his ex-wife, had a way of summoning tears at just the right moment, and Darius had fallen for her act every time. Tess wasn’t crying. She wasn’t even moving, then she coughed, raw, tight. Her breathing quickened. Was her asthma for real, or another of her many lies?

“Where’s your inhaler?” he demanded, wishing he didn’t care, wishing he didn’t want to cradle her against him.

Eyes focused somewhere behind his broad shoulders, she took measured breaths, slowly, carefully. It took every ounce of willpower not to start gasping. Calm lake. Cool Day. Be still... be still... “I left my pouch in the boardroom,” she managed on a wispy breath.

“She’s faking,” Jason declared. “She used to try to pull this crap with my brother. It...”

“Get it,” Darius ordered Jason. “And, Cathy, get some water.”

Without comment, Cathy left with Jason and Tommy on her heels.

The moment they were out the door, Darius’ shoulders sagged. “Damn you! I truly believed you were for real.”

She winced as if he had hit her, but she didn’t attempt to defend herself this time. She couldn’t. She could barely breathe let alone speak. Think of the lake, she ordered herself, not of how much you want to crawl into his embrace and beg him to believe you. Tranquillity wouldn’t come. Neither would anger. She didn’t have the strength to summon anything, but she would. Somehow she’d force herself to hate Darius D’Angelo for not hearing her side. It was the only chance she’d have at saving her company: hate and a good lawyer.

Jason entered the office, looked at both Tess and Darius, then handed the pouch to the latter. Darius immediately began searching for the inhaler, but instead found a pack of cigarettes. An asthma victim didn’t smoke. With rage darkening his expression, he stomped over to Tess and thrust the pouch at her. “So this is a lie as well.”

She didn’t understand until he held up the pack of cigarettes. Shaking her head vigorously, she tried to deny the accusation, but he wasn’t listening. He pushed her out the door and slammed it.

Tess made her way toward the boardroom, hoping Jason had discarded it somewhere in there. Black spots impaled her vision. Her air supply dwindled. She choked, gasped, made it as far as the boardroom door, then banged against it as everything went black.

* * *

“I told you she was a fake,” Jason said, a self-satisfied sneer plastered to his expression.

“She--”

“Get out,” Darius ordered. “I’ll deal with you later.”

“What do you mean deal with me? I’m the victim here.”

Darius’ took a menacing step toward Jason. “Victim? Way I hear it, you enjoy beating up on women.”

Anger flared in Jason’s eyes. “Tess told you that, didn’t she? Probably told you I went to jail too. Damn her! Well, I appealed and was acquitted.”

“Did you beat your wife?”

“No.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Darius blinked and tried not to think about Tess’ hypnotic eyes and compliant lips, about how much he still wanted her. “In fact, if it wasn’t for Tommy’s affirmation, I’d have a hard time believing anything you had to say. Now, get the hell out of my office before I do something you’ll regret.”

The instant the door shut, Darius put Jason out of his mind and began to pace. He needed a few minutes to lick his wounds. How could he have been so blind? My God, he had contemplated pursuing this woman. He had never met a better con artist. She had even purchased the proper medication to feign an illness. He had thought his ex-wife had been the queen of duplicity. Tess Montgomery could give her lessons.

Part of him wanted her to pay for deceiving him so thoroughly. But revenge wasn’t a dish he enjoyed cold or otherwise. For his own sanity, the best thing he could do was simply let it go. Taking Tess to court would only prolong his association with her. He didn’t need a constant reminder that a pair of lovely legs and hypnotic eyes could turn him into a fool.

He barely finished the thought when Luke slammed open the door. Terror twisted the boy’s features. His voice shook. “She... She’s not breathing. I... I can’t... can’t find a pulse.”

Icy fear crawled over Darius skin. It couldn’t be. Not Tess. She was a fake, wasn’t she?

“Show me,” he ordered, racing down the hall after his son. Whatever anger he had felt toward Tess evaporated the instant he found her outside the boardroom. Sprawled over the carpet, she was as still as death. A blue flush invaded her complexion.

Darius dropped to his knees, feeling for a pulse. Unlike Luke, he found one. It was very faint, almost non-existent. “Call 911,” he told his son as he positioned Tess’ head for mouth to mouth recitation.

As Luke obeyed, Darius tried to blow air into Tess’ depleted lungs. Her chest refused to rise. Guilt washed over him. With it, fierce, potent rage unlike anything he had ever felt before. Jason had walked out of Darius’ office minutes before Luke had entered. That meant, Jason had seen Tess and had done nothing. What kind of man-- He didn’t even finish the thought. Apparently, Jason Phillips wasn’t much of a man. If he could do this, he was also capable of discarding Tess’ medication and planting a pack of cigarettes in her purse. Did he lie about the rest as well? If so, why did Tommy corroborate everything? Regardless, this was unforgivable. A string of curses erupted in his mind. He aimed half at them at Jason and the rest at himself.

“Oh God,” Cathy cried, dropping the cup of water she was carrying. “What happened?”

“Check the trash cans in the boardroom,” he ordered. “If we’re lucky, Jason didn’t take her medication with him. Look for an asthma inhaler, pills.”

Eyes wide, Cathy rushed into the room.

After giving Tess several more breaths, he checked her pulse once more. This time he couldn’t locate it. Something cold and dark settled in the pit of his stomach. She couldn’t die. Please God, don’t let her die.

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Luke declared, tears rushing down his young face.

“No, son,” he stated, praying it was a fact. “Do you remember your CPR training?”

Luke nodded. “Good, then start counting.”

* * *

By the time Cathy uncovered Tess’ medication in the trash, the medics had arrived. Darius watched as the two man team worked over Tess. Within minutes they had restored her breathing by giving her an injection, but she was still unconscious.

“Is she going to be all right?” Darius asked, his limbs still trembling with anxiety.

The taller medic nodded. “Far as we can see. Just a routine asthma flare up that should have been nothing if she had her medication on hand. As a precaution, we’re going to take her in.”

“No,” Tess muttered as her eyes fluttered open. She peeled away an oxygen mask, pushed herself upward only to fall back again. “No hospital.”

The medic instantly turned from Darius and concentrated on calming Tess. “We’re here to help, ma’am. You nearly--”

“No!” Tess said more emphatically. This time, she managed a sitting position. “I know my rights, you can’t take me anywhere unless I agree.”

Both medics looked at Tess, then Darius. The older of the two spoke. “She’s right, but I still think she should be looked at. She might need another shot within thirty minutes.”

“Did you use adrenaline?” Tess asked.

The medic nodded. “Yeah, 1:1000 concentration, 0.3 milliliters.”

“No wonder I feel like a runaway train with no brakes. Other than that, I’m fine.”

Darius noted the thread-like quality to her voice, the translucent sheen of her skin. She was far from fine, and it was his own damn fault. He wedged his way between the two medics and grabbed Tess’ hand. Her fingers were cold, frail. “Please, Tess listen to--”

She jerked away. “Don’t! Don’t touch me.”

The last thing Tess remembered was Darius pushing her out of his office. He had refused to believe her, and now he acted concerned, almost desperate. It meant nothing. Why did that realization hurt so much?

She pushed herself backward until she felt the wall, then eased herself up its solid length. “If you don’t mind, I need to make a phone call. I can’t drive home like this.”

“I’ll take you,” Darius offered. “At least let me do that.”

She couldn’t understand his tortured expression. He acted as if her attack was his fault. Her own inability to control her stress level was the real culprit. She couldn’t believe Jason Phillips had managed to turn her back into a weak, sniveling fool. Darius, though, was also a fool for believing the man. He’d find out the truth soon enough. By then it would be too late to repair the damage to any professional relationship. That, though, didn’t bother her as much as the realization that there would never be anything personal between them either. If his instincts had prompted him to believe Jason when she stood inches away gasping like a beached sea creature, then Tess couldn’t trust Darius’ instincts any more than she could trust her own.

She pushed herself from the wall, swayed. “Shouldn’t you be calling your lawyer about now, D’Angelo. Or perhaps you’d prefer to call the police and have Jason press charges. After all, I supposedly stole the prototype from him.” She took a step, nearly lost her balance, then clutched the doorjamb for support. “Oh wait, there is that little problem of proof. You don’t have any.”

Her words hit like a fierce blow. Not because she was right, but because of the animosity in her tone. He hated being her adversary. Again he couldn’t help wondering if Tommy had lied. Why would he? There was no possible motive.

He watched Tess stagger over the boardroom threshold, then collapse in a chair. She placed a trembling hand against her mouth as if fearing she was about to be sick. Her gaze wandered, then settled on the phone at the far end of the room. She sighed and started to push herself out of the chair.

“Can’t you do something?” he screamed at the medics. “She’s in no condition to--”

The two men exchanged glances, then shrugged as they packed up their paraphernalia. “We can’t force her to come with us,” the taller one said. “And, to be honest, chances are she’ll be okay as long as she gets some rest and keeps her medication handy. However, once the adrenaline wears off, she’ll probably need to sleep. Someone has to monitor her for the first couple of hours to make sure she doesn’t stop breathing. Normally, that isn’t necessary, but she had a close call. It wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.”

Chills shimmied up Darius spine. Knowing she had come so close to death unnerved him in a way he hadn’t thought possible. In just a few short days, he had grown to care for this woman. And if it hadn’t been for Jason’s declaration, he would have pursued her like a predator on a hunt. Even now, despite everything, he had this uncontrollable urge to keep her safe. Knowing it was an impractical, ridiculous impulse didn’t make it any less desirable.

He watched as Tess dragged herself toward the phone, clinging to the chairs that lined the table.

Shaking his head, Darius cursed viciously, stomped into the room, then plucked her up off the floor. For an instant, she didn’t resist. She was languid, clinging. It provoked the masculine need to protect, to claim her as his own. He wanted Jason’s words to evaporate along with his own doubt and confusion. But Tess’ compliance didn’t last.

“Put me down!” she insisted with surprising vigor.

Ignoring her protest, he spoke to his assistant. “Cathy, I’m taking Tess home. Will you make sure Luke has a ride, if I’m not back by closing? And pack up her things and have them put in the car.”

“The doll too.”

“No, put that under lock and key. We have things to settle before we decide--”

Tess squirmed in his hold. “You can’t do that! It’s my prototype.”

“That remains to be seen. Now, stay still before I drop you.”

Tess stopped squirming, but her stare remained glacial.

“Don’t worry,” Cathy interposed. “Darius isn’t a thief. Once the truth bites him on the butt, he’ll give you the doll back.”

After Tess nodded, Cathy turned her gaze back to Darius. “I’ll take care of things - one hell of a lot of things.”

Darius wasn’t sure what she had in mind, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was seeing to Tess’ welfare. He didn’t care if she was a thief, or if she slept with the likes of Jason. The woman nearly died because of him, and he’d make it up to her if he had to ram his contrition down her throat.

Tess wasn’t in the mood for his remorse. She struggled against his strength, determined to initiate a Tae Kwon Do maneuver with the little energy she had left. Only Luke came up beside her, matching his father’s footsteps. “Don’t fight him, Tess. He’s trying to help.”

It was then that she remembered that Darius was only human. He might not be a great judge of character, but her condition wasn’t his fault. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

Luke smiled. “Take good care of her, Dad.”

Darius nodded, then made for the elevators. “I’ll call.”

Once settled in Darius’ Lexus, Tess turned to this man whom she wanted to hate, but couldn’t stop admiring. He didn’t have to do this. He thought she was a liar and a tramp. Why would he want to help her?

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said softly, as they pulled out of the parking garage and made their way through pounding rain toward the interstate.

“From where I stand, it’s very much my fault. Even if you are a th--” He broke off, cleared his throat. “What I mean is, I should have heard you out. At the very least, I should have realized you were having a real attack. No one is that good an actress.”

“I wish it were an act. Any other person would have been able to handle the stress, would have forced you to listen.” She clenched a small fist and slammed it against the seat. “I thought I was beyond this. I thought--”

She exhaled slowly. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not your concern.”

Perhaps it wasn’t, but Darius wanted it to be. “It’s not your fault either, Tess. Just because you have asthma doesn’t mean you’re weak in any way. There are all kinds of strength. I see in you--”

“Stop it!” she insisted, her voice rising above the persistent beat of the windshield wipers. “You of all people have no business consoling me. So don’t even try.”

Darius’ fists tightened on the steering wheel. A vein throbbed under a wayward swath of dark hair. “Sorry, I just... Damn it, Tess, how did everything become such a mess?”

Slumping down in the seat, Tess leaned her head back. She couldn’t stop the frantic pounding of her heart, and didn’t know if it was due to the injection or her inability to stop reacting to Darius. Darn him! If only he’d stop showing such concern. It proved he was a decent man, a kind man. He was also the man who intended to destroy her. It didn’t make any sense.

“You tell me, D’Angelo. You’re the one who believes a con man.”

“I wouldn’t have believed Jason if it weren’t for--”

“Let’s not go there again,” she interrupted. “But for the record, you should know I’m not as weak as I appear. I won’t knuckle under. I’ll fight you with everything I have. If that means I have to pump myself full of isoproterenol fifty times a day and drag my name through the mud for the second time in my life, so be it. I won’t back down. Understand. I can’t. Not this time.”

Her little speech didn’t infuriate Darius. If anything, he wanted to cheer her on, tell her how much he admired her bravado. But she was drawing battle lines, and he was on the other side. Unfortunately, if she went up against him in court, he’d win. It didn’t matter if she was telling the truth or not. He had enough financial backing to assure success. He loathed the concept of destroying her. Still, how did he reconcile his own ingrained ethics with this irresistible attraction? They could never have a relationship. He could never trust her. Yet... Yet, there was something so damn decent about her. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was as guiltless as her appearance suggested. Darius did know better, and he’d be a fool to let down his guard anymore than he already had.

He glanced at her angelic profile, noted the hurt and anger evident in her intriguing eyes. God, how did a man resist her?

“What the hell am I going to do with you?” He hadn’t meant to say that aloud, and was shocked when she answered.

“You’re going to take me to court and try to destroy my business.” The rush from the adrenaline injection started to wear off. Fatigue rushed in like an angry wave, swallowing her whole. She couldn’t keep her eyes open.

“I should hate you,” she muttered, defenses dissolving under the tide of exhaustion.

“You don’t?” he asked in a stunned whisper.

“Stupid, huh? You’ve sided with my adversary, threatened to take me to court, and will probably end up demolishing my world, but I still think you’re a good man.” She yawned, her head dropped to one side. “Don’t worry, I’ll get over it. I’ll get over your sexy grin and hypnotic eyes, too. Before you know it, I’ll...” Her words drifted into nothing as sleep staked its claim.

Sexy grin? Hypnotic eyes? Did she really say that? he wondered. Or was it wishful thinking? Was she as attracted to him as he was to her? Or was this some sort of mind game? How many times did a man have to be deceived before he wised up? Then again, what if everything she had told him was the truth? What if for some ungodly reason, Tommy had lied. Tess could be the one woman who wouldn’t hurt him, who wouldn’t walk away, who’d defy the statistics, and would cling to him forever? What if she were all these things, and he didn’t find out until he had alienated her altogether? What would be the greater regret? Being a fool? Or realizing he had lost his one chance for happiness?

With a muttered curse, Darius turned off a nearby exit and headed in the opposite direction of Tess’ cottage.

* * *

Hours later, Tess awoke with a start. She couldn’t remember falling asleep. She also couldn’t remember undressing and crawling into bed. Glancing down at the oversized white cotton shirt, she realized Darius must have done the honors. Both anger and embarrassment flooded her system as she thought of him stripping her. Another emotion erupted as well. An emotion she refused to exam too closely. Still, she couldn’t stop her physical reaction. Heat. Rapid breathing. Clenched fists. She imagined him tugging at her zipper, pulling down pantyhose, unhooking her bra, then taking her in with smoldering eyes. Did he like what he saw? Was she too thin for his tastes? “Don’t,” she whispered. “You have to stop thinking about Darius like that.”

“Like what?”

The slight raspy quality to his voice came at her, further stimulating erogenous zones. She swallowed, forced herself to look at him. He leaned against the door jamb, arms folded, ankles crossed. The relaxed posture only intensified his masculinity. His shoulders appeared larger. His hips leaner. His legs longer. He filled the doorway with strength and virility. He filled her mind with such erotic images, she gasped.

Darius was instantly at her side, inhaler in hand.

“I don’t need that. I’m--” she broke off. It suddenly came to her that she didn’t own an oversized white cotton shirt. At the same time, she realized that her surroundings weren’t at all familiar. Long arched windows lined one wall. The other three were white-washed and trimmed with stained molding. Random floor planking displayed scrubbed pine furnishings, including a four-poster bed with simplistic lines.

“Where am I?” she blurted.

“Home.”

“This isn’t my home.”

“It’s mine.”

CHAPTER SIX

Tossing the covers aside, Tess sprang to her feet. “You have no right--” she began, then bore the repercussions of jumping up too quickly. The room tilted. Her knees buckled.

Darius caught her before she hit the floor, enveloping her in strength, warmth, and spicy cologne. “Hey, not so fast. You’re still a little weak.”

Clenched fists slammed against his solid chest. “I am not weak!”

“I wasn’t commenting on your character,” he returned, with astute perception. “Just your physical condition.”

“It won’t last,” she assured him. Darn him anyway! Did he enjoy seeing her like this? Was it some sort of punishment for all those wrongs that Jason had invented?

She attempted to calm her anger, to become still and quiet in the way of Chung Shin Tomil. It didn’t work. Instead, she became volatile. “I want to go home, now!”

Lifting her gently, he placed her on the bed and tucked a blue and white quilt around her. His administrations were all too comforting. He made her feel like she belonged in his bed. She envisioned being here for a different reason. Reasons that had nothing to do with business or illness. She envisioned strong hands manipulating tender flesh, eager lips eliciting fevered responses. She imagined his body poised above hers, ready to conquer all reservations. Hot, strong sensations started at her toes and climbed upward until her eyes glazed over and her complexion turned crimson. Her dizziness increased, but it had little too do with the aftermath of her attack.

“You look feverish.” He pressed his fingertips against one cheek, then the other. His touch was cool, comforting. “You need to be looked after, Tess.”

“I can look after myself,” she managed, but her breathing wasn’t steady. He was too close. She remembered his taste, the feel of his muscles. Oh God, how did she stop the sensations?

He moved away, and plopped her inhaler back into the pouch. “I’m sure you can take care of yourself. However, at this particular moment you need someone.”

Oh yes, she needed all right. She needed his lips on hers. She needed to experience the rush of his passion. She needed to have her head examined. This man was her enemy for goodness sake. Calm day. Frigid lake! Arctic air!

“I have friends, you know.”

“Your pets don’t count.”

She latched onto his words as if they were an anchor. “P... P... Pets!” she sputtered. “Is that how you see me? Poor little Tess, no one to love her but a handful of pets! I’ll have you know, there are people who care about me.”

“I don’t doubt it, but you’re here now, and it’s almost the weekend. So, why don’t we keep it simple.”

“You’re simple, you know that? We’re not on the same side. We’re enemies. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Tess. I just don’t trust you.”

She threw up her hands and slapped them against the mattress. “My point exactly. Why would you bring someone you don’t trust into your home?”

“I like to keep my enemies where I can see them?” The questioning tone nearly made her laugh. It also made her realize he didn’t understand his own motivation. She did, though. It was similar to the way her parents had acted when she was a child. They didn’t understand that her attacks weren’t their fault; that they had to let her run and play and be like other kids. Every time they had allowed her any freedom, she’d have an asthma attack or an allergy attack, or she’d break a bone. And her parents would blame themselves. In the end, they became obsessively protective, and unwittingly created a gullible weakling. She had been perfect prey for men like Michael and his brother, but in some respects she was grateful. Determined to beat them at their own insidious games, she had learned how to fight back. Afterwards, she took up self-defense and meditation. She had the ability to defend her person as well as her spirit. Or at least she thought she had. With the room spinning and Darius all solicitous she felt as if she hadn’t made any progress at all.

Breathe, she ordered herself. Use some of that meditation that you swear by. After all, screaming like a banshee isn’t getting you anywhere.

She closed her eyes, let loose a long breath, and concentrated on the depths of a mountain lake. She stilled her emotions, centered her being, then opened her eyes.

“Mr. D’Angelo,” she said slowly, evenly. “Just because I had an asthma attack in your office doesn’t mean you’re responsible for me.”

“Perhaps I’m not responsible for you, but I am responsible for that attack. No matter how you slice it, I provoked it, then didn’t have the intelligence to acknowledge it. Because of me, you could have--” He broke off, raked his fingers through thick hair, walked the length of the room, and came back. Ebony eyes became limpid pools of remorse and apprehension. “You really should be in a hospital.”

His concern ruptured her defensive shield, making her momentarily forget their antagonist roles. “Stop worrying about me. I’ve been through this enough times to know whether or not I need hospitalization.”

“You don’t understand, Tess. You were blue. You didn’t have a pulse. I had to use CPR.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t know. I guess, I owe you my life.”

“I would have done the same for anyone.”

She suddenly felt very alienated. “I wasn’t implying that you thought I was special in any way.”

He paced again, stomping across the room as if it were a arduous mountain path. “No. You don’t understand. It has nothing to do with being special. You never should have gotten to that point. I should have realized. I mean, compared to nearly killing someone, plagiarizing a toy seems pretty tame.”

“I didn’t--” her voice rose, she forced it back down until it was nearly a whisper. “I didn’t plagiarize anything, and you didn’t nearly kill me. Unless, of course, you ordered Jason to steal my medication and plant a pack of cigarettes.”

“Of course not!” He stopped pacing long enough to catch her gaze. “He knew what he was doing, didn’t he? You were married to his brother. He had to know what would happen.”

“He knew,” she said softly. “He also knew, he could get away with it. He didn’t keep the medication on his person. He’d argue that it had probably fallen out of my pouch. He’d even go so far as to tell you he didn’t notice me in the hall. I was on the floor. He was looking straight ahead, preoccupied.”

“I wouldn’t believe him.”

“Not even if Tommy Banks vouched for him?”

The woman had a way of cutting to the heart of the matter. Only then did Darius remember that Tommy had gone with Jason to retrieve the pouch. Was Tommy Jason’s accomplice? But why would either of them wish Tess dead. Daruis had sided with Jason, not Tess. Why hadn’t that been enough?

Because, stupid, a dead woman wouldn’t be able to defend herself against false accusations.

Tess wouldn’t have been in his home if Darius didn’t harbor doubt concerning Jason’s claims, but this was the first time, Darius truly suspected that Tommy could have lied. Only suspicion wasn’t enough to doubt Tommy. The man was about as honest and reliable as they came. He wouldn’t lie. Darius knew he wouldn’t. Only someone was lying, and Darius was no longer positive that it was Tess.

He made his way to the bed and studied Tess’ complexion. She was pale again. There was a translucent quality to her skin that gave her an ethereal appearance despite bluish smudges beneath her eyes. Her hair, no longer in a braid, fell in crimped waves past her shoulder. She looked so young, so vulnerable. Yet, he recognized suppressed passion in the depths of her gaze. He acknowledged the sensuous pout to her perfectly formed lips and the tempestuous arch of a graceful neck. He desperately wanted to touch her, kiss her, push her back into the mattress and make her moan in ecstasy. Knowing it wasn’t an option, he began to pace once more. “I still don’t know who to believe, but I’m willing to hear you out.”

“Good. Tomorrow, okay? Right now, I want to go home. I’m not up to it right now.”

Pushing the covers back once more, she eased herself upright. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get dressed.”

Darius’ brow tensed. For someone who considered herself a weakling, she had a very commanding attitude. Darius, though, wasn’t about to let her go anywhere. The entire situation came down to Tess’ word against Jason and Tommy’s, which meant that Darius needed to know Tess personally. A long week-end alone could do the trick. She could play innocent for a few hours, but could never keep up the pretense for an entire week-end. Of course, his ex-wife had managed to keep him fooled for over six-months, but they were both career oriented and rarely spent more than a few hours together at a time. There courtship had been a fantasy whirlwind conducted more in boardrooms then in any intimate locality. They didn’t even have a honeymoon because of work commitments, and the marriage itself lasted less then a year. Luke hadn’t even been born when they signed the divorce papers, but it had already been settled that Darius would have custody of the child. Shelly didn’t care for parenthood anymore than she favored monogamy. Besides, now, he was older, hopefully wiser, and definitely more cynical. By the end of one long week-end, he’d know whether or not Tess was a fake. That would be the simple part; keeping her here was an altogether different matter.

Her fine brows straightened in a determined line. Her entire posture manifested obstinacy. Weak? Oh yes, she was weak, all right, about as weak as a tank. Well, he didn’t have to tell her about his intentions right off. Perhaps, he should try the laid back approach. It was novel if nothing else.

“Do you like blue fish?” he asked.

She cocked her head, staring. “Did I miss something?”

“I plan on grilling some fish. I’d feel better if you ate something before going anywhere.”

Her look suggested she didn’t altogether trust him. But in thinking she won the war, he hoped she’d concede the battle. Still, he was somewhat startled when she didn’t argue.

“Okay. I could use a meal. Thank you.”

He smiled. “Great. You rest, and I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

“That would be nice,” she returned, sounding very sincere. Only the moment Darius exited the room, Tess slipped from the bed, cautiously this time, and scouted around for her clothes. Although she didn’t find them, she spotted her pouch. Trashing through it, she was relieved to find her inhaler as well as her wallet. After checking to make sure she had enough cash, she called for a taxi. The cabby would just have to overlook her attire.

Standing, she steadied herself for a moment, then tiptoed to the door. Darius had closed it; and for an instant, she feared he had locked it. But it opened easily and soundlessly. She peered into the hall, absently noting stained molding, braided rugs, and an impressive open foyer. She stepped into the hall and discovered a panoramic view of the lower level. For an instant, she reconsidered leaving. There was something very comfortable and appealing about Darius’ home. Well aware that he was a multi-millionaire, she expected a mansion. Instead, he owned a two story colonial in a family oriented neighborhood. His rustic furnishings were solid and expensive, but not pretentious or showy. There wasn’t any clutter, just plenty of open spaces and whitewashed walls. Here and there were framed photos of family, and an occasional ornament, bold and big. Still, Tess didn’t belong here and the sooner she departed the better.

She took slow, careful steps toward the stairs. She was still a little shaky and didn’t want to pass out before she managed to escape. And if she stood a chance of coming out of this farce with a little dignity, she didn’t have any other choice. The man did things to her senses; made her crave things she had no business craving. Images of flesh against flesh flashed through her mind. The thought stilled her step, imprisoned her breath. If just an image stimulated her this much, she couldn’t conceive the reality of making love to this man. It would be one of the most intense experiences of her life. Unfortunately, it was an experience she’d have to live without.

Releasing her breath she took another step, then leaned over the balcony to make sure Darius wasn’t in sight. She didn’t detect any movement, only heard the soft strains of Irish flute music. It was a haunting melody that absorbed Tess just long enough for her to miss the sudden footfall.

A strong hand closed about her shoulder. “Going somewhere?”

As always, Tess reacted without thinking, yet something went wrong. Darius didn’t end up on the floor, she did.

As she stared up at him, he winced. “Sorry. I tried to make the landing as gentle as possible, but I wasn’t about to let you throw me again.”

“You know Tae Kwon Do?”

“I used to be pretty involved years ago, even managed a fifth degree black belt. I haven’t been an avid student for a good while now. But the skills stay with a person. The only reason you toppled me yesterday was because you took me completely unaware.”

“Someone sneaks up on me, and I react. I can’t help it.” Getting to her feet, she spotted her pouch in a corner. The contents had miraculously stayed intact. “I had hoped to avoid any more arguing. I called a cab. I have to get out of here.”

“Like that?”

She glanced down at the white shirt and bare feet. “I couldn’t find my clothes.”

“Laundry room.” He took a step toward her. “Tess, have dinner with me. It’s not a big deal.”

“I have to go.”

“Why?”

She took in his dark, smoldering gaze, saw various degrees of heat, and each one was hotter than the next. It wouldn’t take much to succumb to such intensity, not much at all. She swallowed, hard. “We just can’t sit across from each other at a dinner table and act like nothing is wrong.”

“Why not? Didn’t you ever pretend as a child?”

“I’m not a child now.”

His voice deepened, became throaty. His gaze slid over her in hot appreciation. It felt as if someone had lit a torch.

“I’d vouch for that,” he growled.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“You know.”

He took another step, then another until nothing separated them but an inch of fiery air. “Tell me.”

She couldn’t. His blatant sensuality overpowered her. Never before had she felt such erotic attraction. Did he know how he affected her? How could a man be this arousing and not know? She spent years learning about control. At this moment, she couldn’t remember a single lesson. Only need mattered. Only his touch mattered.

“Why don’t I show you instead,” she managed, before tangling her fingers in his luxuriant hair and covering his mouth with hers. His arms were instantly around her proving his self-control wasn’t any better than hers. Insistent need dominated the kiss as they plunged into an intimacy that usually preceded lovemaking. Their mouths were open. Their tongues sought to conquer yet provoked surrender.

Tess quivered with fevered sensations and an undeniable ache. This was what she had been running from, and now she couldn’t fathom why. How could anything this glorious ever be wrong? An insistent warning, somewhere beyond the region of her current insanity, clamored to be heard. Tess ignored it.

Darius had his own failed warning system. He told himself this wasn’t why he had wanted her to stay. Another, more lucid part of him knew the truth. This was exactly what he had wanted from her. Ever since he had first touched her, kissing her again was practically all he could think about. Only rage had temporarily dissolved his feelings.

Now, though, he couldn’t think past her yielding lips. She kissed him with an abandon that Darius had never before experienced. Every woman he had ever known held back a portion of her true passion. They played games with coyness and subtlety, always hinting that an engagement ring would conquer their obvious restrain. Shelly was an expert at manipulative games. It was how she had snared him. Only, once he was no longer a challenge, she had moved on.

Tess held nothing back. She didn’t even ask for anything, only gave of herself with passionate intensity and unexpected naiveté. It was as if she had never been the aggressor before.

Or was it that she had never been this out of control? The thought that he could arouse her to such a degree was a potent aphrodisiac. With a harsh growl, he tightened his hold and ravaged her mouth, his tongue sampling her sweet inner regions with tormenting expertise.

Tess never felt so aroused. A shudder ripped through her, making her breasts ache, her legs tremble. She pressed against him, stomach to stomach, thigh to thigh. Darius gasped. His entire body tightened. His kiss became frantic. His hands roamed down her back, over her buttock, then up under the shirt, tugging and pulling until suddenly it was open. He could feel her exposed breasts pressed against him. They were warm, soft. He ached to touch the exquisite flesh, but wasn’t finished sampling other delights.

Tess still ignored all inner warnings. It was as if she had waited an eternity for this. Her own fingers ripped at the buttons on his shirt until she could reach inside, flattening her hands against the rich matte of chest hair. She liked the feel of him, the scent of him. She liked how he allowed her to do as she willed. Mostly, she liked how he relished her reactions. Her satisfaction mattered to him, not because he could control her, but because he enjoyed pleasing her. “Darius,” she whispered on a husky thread of sound.

“Mmmm,” he muttered, his lips moving to her throat.

“More,” she returned. “Please... More...”

At her words, the scalding sensations tumbling through Darius careened out of control. He scooped her off the floor, carried her to the bedroom, and fell with her to the mattress. It took every ounce of will not to rip her lacy panties off and take her without another ounce of restrain. But Darius had a smidgen of sanity left, enough to remember he wasn’t an animal, enough to remember to seek some protection before they let it go much further. But he wasn’t ready for that yet. Now that she was in his bed, he wanted to linger, to savor each and every morsel of this special woman.

As he kissed her again, he cupped the fullness of a breast, his fingers coaxing a taut nipple to tighten even more. He played and toyed and marveled at her every sigh and moan, then reacted with pleasure sounds of his own when she explored with hesitant, inexperienced hands. He didn’t understand the innocence. How could she not have built up any seasoning during her marriage? It didn’t deter from his enjoyment. If anything, it endeared her to him, made him want her all the more. Still when she started moving too fast, he couldn’t help uttering a protest. He wanted to make sure she was as ready for him as he was for her. She ignored his soft moan of protest and placed her hand over the juncture of his pants, stroking with tentative fingers. It was nearly his undoing. Blood pounded in his ears. His pulse raced. His manhood throbbed.

“Stop!” he rasped. “Tess you don’t know what you’re doing to--”

He broke off the moment Tess’ expression registered. She had scrambled back on the bed, snatching at sheets to cover herself. Her eyes were wide. Her bottom lip trembled. When he reached out a comforting hand. She winced as if she expected him to hit her. It was then that he recognized fear.

Darius’ passion abated. He had never frightened a woman in his life, and he didn’t like the sensation. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I... um... I did something wrong, didn’t I?”

“No,” he said softly, wishing he could somehow wipe that terrified expression from her face. “I was too aroused, Tess. I wanted to make sure you were just as aroused before we went any further.”

Realizing she had just over-reacted, Tess felt like a fool. But she remembered Michael’s response when she had tried to participate in their lovemaking. The verbal lashing had been nothing compared to the physical abuse. Michael didn’t give up control easily, especially not during sex. When Darius screamed for her to stop, she feared all men had the same aversion to losing control as Michael. Apparently, she was wrong. Now, if the earth would just open up and swallow her, she’d be thrilled.

She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against them. “Please bring me my clothes, Mr. D’Angelo. I don’t care if they’re soaking wet. I have to get out of here.”

“Tess, drop the mister, okay? It just doesn’t cut it any more.” He inched closer to her, and fought against pulling her back into his arms. The moment of insanity had passed. It never should have happened, but that didn’t stop him from still wanting her. His passion, with all its magic and heat, came clamoring back. “I’m not going to get your clothes because they are soaking wet, but I’ll get you something to wear.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I want something in return.” She lifted her head, a defiant light entered her gaze. “What?”

“I want you to spend a long week-end with me.”

Tess couldn’t have looked more shocked if he had suddenly sprouted horns. “Are you crazy?”

“I need to get to know you.”

“You are crazy. I’m talking loony tunes here.”

“Perhaps, you’re right. But this is important.”

“No, this...” She used her finger to draw a circle over the bed. “...this is what’s important to you. You just want to finish what we started.”

“I started nothing,” he reminded her. Never noted for his patience, Darius felt his strained to the limit. “You’re the one who kissed me and ripped open my shirt.”

Tess finally had color. Her cheeks blazed scarlet. Her eyes glittered with both embarrassment and anger. “A gentleman wouldn’t have brought that up.”

“I never admitted to being a gentleman.”

“My mistake. Where is that taxi, anyway?”

“Damn, you’re a stubborn wench.”

“Wench? People don’t use that word any more. They haven’t for a couple of centuries.”

“They should. It describes you perfectly. An arrogant, sassy, incorrigible, stubborn wench!”

Tess tilted her head. A half smile formed on her lips. “You think I’m all those things, really?”

“It’s not a compliment.”

“Oh yeah? Try being raised in a protected cage and turning out like a mouse and see what you find complimentary.”

Something stabbed at Darius heart, something sharp and cold. He was beginning to believe this lady had a lot of pain stored up in that petite body of hers. Whether she was guilty or not of stealing the prototype, she didn’t deserved the torment he saw in her eyes. Not that he could piece together any particulars, but he knew enough to realize that she had once been a very vulnerable, naive girl who had been terribly hurt.

Was that why she stole the prototype? Was it some sort of revenge for ill treatment? Or was Jason victimizing her? Damn it, why couldn’t he figure out the truth? God, how he wanted to believe Tess. But he couldn’t get Tommy’s remarks out of his mind. If Tess proved to be as decent as she appeared, then he’d have to concede and look into Tommy’s motivation. But he wasn’t about to confront his friend until he was certain of Tess’ honesty. Meanwhile, he had to convince Tess that they needed time alone.

“If I promise to behave like a perfect gentleman, will you stay?”

“No, because as you pointed out, I wasn’t exactly a perfect lady. We just have this... this... thing happening between us.”

“It’s called sexual attraction.”

“It’s called lust.”

He laughed, he couldn’t help it. She was so up front with everything. Or was this an act? He pushed the thought away. “Whatever it is, we can control it. If we couldn’t we’d still be romping around on the bed.”

She stared at her toes, curling and uncurling under the sheets. “I don’t usually romp with someone I barely know. I mean, I haven’t been with a man for a long time.” She paused, stiffened. “Then again, why am I telling you this? It’s not like you believe anything I have to say.”

But he did believe her. He was man enough to know she wasn’t terribly experienced. Even though that was a puzzlement in and of itself, it proved that Jason had lied about their relationship.

“Tommy said he saw you in Jason’s apartment, not in his bed. I wouldn’t put it past Jason to lie about that part of your association.”

She glanced up at him. Ebony hair cascaded into his eyes.. His shirt hung open, displaying hard hair matted muscle. A tantalizing needle of sensation wove itself in and out of her nervous system, making her feel alternately hot and cold. She battled the onslaught of passion with sarcasm. “Now, all I have to do is prove that Tommy never saw me until a few days ago and I have it made.”

“If you’re telling the truth, you have every right to be angry, but you have to see it from my point of view. Tommy and I knew each other since we were kids. We went to the same schools. We even roomed together at the university. When I started up Calico, he was one of my first employees. On the other hand, I’ve known you a couple of days. How do I take your word over his?”

She sighed. “I guess I’m lucky you even want to consider my word.”

“If Jason hadn’t pulled that stunt with your inhaler, I probably would still believe his entire story. But anyone that callous is quite capable of deception. Perhaps he discovered a way to manipulate Tommy. But, there is no way I’m going to doubt my friend unless I can believe in you.”

“And just how the heck is that supposed to come about?”

“By staying with me. If I get to know you, Tess, then I can decide whether or not you’re as decent as I’m beginning to think you are.”

“I could put on an act.”

“Not every minute of the day. No one’s that good an actress.”

The idea of having to prove herself was more than a little novel. All her life she had been accused of being too good, a doormat, a piece of bread. And here was this man trying to decide if she was decent. If the future of her company wasn’t at stake, she’d find the situation comical. As it was, she really didn’t have a choice, but there had to be some ground rules. She nearly made love to Darius without a morsel of restrain. She had to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

“Okay, I’ll spend the week-end with you, but not here.”

“Fine, I have a--”

“Not on your turf, D’Angelo.”

“Your place then?”

She considered it, then shook her head. Her home was her own personal refuge. She wasn’t about to let the enemy invade it. “My brother has a place in Ocean City.”

“Maryland?”

“No, Jersey. It’s a small bungalow on the beach, but there’s one bedroom, a loft, and a comfortable fold out couch. If Luke wouldn’t mind taking the loft, I’m sure you could manage on the couch.”

Darius arched a brow. And she considered herself a mouse. Damn, he never met anyone less like a mouse. It amazed him that she didn’t have a clue to her own competence. If the situation were different, making Tess realize her potential would be a priority. Unfortunately, by the time they were through with each other, he’d probably would be lucky if Tess even talked to him.

“Luke’s spending the week-end with Cathy, Tim, and his son, John, down in Rehobeth. But I’ll take the loft. It would probably be for the best if our beds were as far apart as possible.

Pleased that he wasn’t any more eager than she to become intimate, Tess nodded in agreement. “Okay, fine. We’ll arrange particulars in the morning. Now, about--”

The chiming doorbell severed her sentence. “Cab,” she said.

“I’ll get rid of him. After dinner, I’ll take you home.”

“But...”

Standing, Darius rubbed the back of his neck. “Cut me some slack, okay, Tess? No more arguing tonight.”

He watched her entire body tighten and become still, then she unexpectedly slumped as if she simply didn’t have enough energy to remain antagonistic. “Okay, no more arguments. You can take me home, but no dinner. Rascal needs to be let out. All my pets need to be fed. And I’m about as close to falling apart as I can get. Please, save me that embarrassment.”

Her honesty unnerved him. It also made him realize that her bravado was an act. Not that she wasn’t strong, but she wasn’t an aggressive person by nature. For someone like Tess it was difficult to remain defiant for any length of time. If she were for real, she had the perfect temperament for him. Her serene nature would cool his tempestuous one. Yet she wasn’t a doormat, and Darius would never make her feel that way. After all, being able to control one’s emotions showed the type of strength Darius could only envy.

“Okay, Tess, I’ll take you home.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he pulled up in front of Tess’ cottage. She was out of the car before he could even unbuckle his seat belt.

“I’ll call you in the morning,” she said from her front step. It was barely after five with plenty of daylight left, but storm clouds still shuttered the sky, making it seem later. A eerie wind whistled through nearby tree branches. “Um... tell Luke I’m sorry if I scared him today.”

Darius stepped from the car, leaned against the door. “You couldn’t help it.”

“I know, but I hate the thought of what I put him through.” She glanced at her feet, then upward at the bloated clouds. “He seems like a great kid. You’re lucky.”

“Yes...” His voice drifted. He didn’t want to leave her; didn’t know how to delay the parting. “I’ll wait for your call,” he said lamely.

She nodded, then fled into her home as if fearing Darius would stop her. But Tess didn’t fear Darius only her own traitorous body. Another second in his presence and she’d fall into his arms, begging him to finish what they had started earlier. What was wrong with her? If she didn’t learn some self-control by the week-end, the only thing she’d prove to Darius was that she was a sex-craved maniac.

Closing the door behind her, Tess frowned. Where were her little pals? They always greeted her. “Rascal,” she called. “Patches. Tiger. Com’on guys, where are you hiding?”

“I locked them in the bathroom. They were getting to be a real pain in the butt.”

Tess caught her breath. Her eyes grew wide.

With a shot glass in his hand, Jason stood in the middle of her kitchen, looking like he owned the place.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tess didn’t have the stamina to be either scared or angry. “How did you get in here?”

“You left the door unlocked.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to just walk in,” she said, finally hearing Rascal’s frantic barking coming from the bathroom.

He shrugged. “I couldn’t resist startling you. After all, you scare so easily.”

She refrained from informing him that she wasn’t the same timid creature she used to be. He wouldn’t believe it. Considering she was gasping for air every five minutes, she sometimes wondered just how far removed she was from her younger self. “What are you doing here? Looking for another design to steal? Or is this your idea of gloating?”

He poured whiskey from a bottle on the island. “I was pretty impressive if I say so myself. Although getting Tommy’s cooperation was a bit tricky. Fortunately, he’s a wimp. I found his Achilles heel and nailed him with it.”

“And just what was his Achilles heel?”

He grinned. It was so like Michael’s grin, she shivered.

“Do you really think I’d tell you?” he supplied.

“Can’t blame me for trying.” Tess placed her pouch on the counter, then plucked the shot glass out of Jason’s hand. “Still, I wouldn’t start celebrating just yet. Darius isn’t too thrilled with that stunt you pulled today.”

“I’m not worried. I’ll talk my way out of it. Although, I probably won’t get any help from Tommy with this one. Your near death scared the crap out of him.” He frowned at the whiskey glass, but didn’t make an effort to retrieve it. “To tell the truth, I didn’t expect it either. I mean, Michael used to hide your medication all the time just to keep you in line, you never stopped breathing before.”

“That’s because Michael never took it that far.” She shook her head, wondering why she was even conversing with this weasel. “You know, Jason, reminiscing is interesting, but I think you should leave now.”

“As soon as you agree to back off. I want you to tell DJ that everything I said was true.”

“And why would I do that?” she asked, enraged at his audacity.

“Just because I didn’t intentionally try to kill you earlier, doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind.” Tess should have been scared; she wasn’t. Jason was one of the biggest frauds going. He had a nasty temper, but he wasn’t Michael. Despite the spousal abuse charge, Jason had been in counseling on and off. At least he had tried to help himself. Still, she knew better than to defy a man with whiskey in his system. She inhaled deeply, evenly, stilling herself before her emotions got the better of her.

“Just to make this interesting,” he continued, “you have my permission to tell DJ about Michael. DJ will think you stole my prototype out of revenge. If you apologize just right, he might even forgo a court battle. DJ’s a fair player, has a heart.” Jason flipped up both hands. “I never could understand how those traits got him so far in this business. Oh well, in the end, you’ll be off the hook.”

“And you’ll get away with plagiarizing another one of my designs.”

“Sounds fair to me.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” she lied, knowing he’d never leave if she became defiant.

“Think real hard, Tess. Let’s face it, it’s your word against mine. Do you really have the guts to go against a man like DJ? His lawyers will serve you up for breakfast. Play it smart. It’s the only way you’re going to survive this round.”

After plucking the whiskey bottle off the island, Jason swaggered toward the door.

Unable to control her anger and frustration a moment longer, she threw the whiskey glass at the door. It shattered a window pane. The sound mingled with Jason’s audacious laughter and Rascal’s continuous barking.

* * *

The next morning, Tess left word at Darius’ office to meet her at noon, then she penned a letter to her brother. With her parents dead and no other close relatives, Joe was all she had left. They wrote each other every week and tried to see each other a couple times a year. In the letter, she related the events of the last week, including her attraction to Darius. Yet she didn’t mention that they intended to spend the week-end together. Knowing she was a soft touch, Joe would come rushing back to the States and play big brother. She didn’t want him to come to her rescue. Sink or swim, she intended to handle things herself.

After finishing the letter, she donned Khaki shorts, an off-white cotton top, and sandals. She twisted her hair in its usual French braid, but neglected to wear any earrings or makeup. She didn’t have time. Noon was fast approaching and she still had to pack, wait for the repairman to finish fixing her kitchen door, and appraise Pete of the situation. Thank God he was too preoccupied with the new baby to get involved. Being a good friend, he’d probably punch Jason in the nose and hire a lawyer to combat Calico with or without her permission. At this juncture, a lawyer would only make everything worse. Still, Pete would speak his mind. Smarting from Jason’s arrogance, she wasn’t ready for any more confrontations and opted for leaving a message on Pete’s voice mail.

Once everything was completed, Tess climbed the ladder into the attic to retrieve pet carriers. Below, a repair man put the finishing touches on the door while Rascal yelped and barked, obviously sensing they were about to take a trip. The cats hissed and ran under the sofa.

“Calm down,” she ordered Rascal as she backed down the stairs, carrier in hand. “You’re frightening Patches and Tiger.”

“I think I did that,” announced Darius from the bottom of the ladder.

Startled by his rich, masculine voice, her foot missed a step and she lost her balance. The carrier tumbled to the side and she landed in Darius’ arms. Though he staggered backwards, he retained his balance.

“Good morning, dear heart. Slept well, I hope.”

His blatant cheer was unnerving. He acted as if they were embarking on a pleasure cruise. Besides, she wasn’t emotionally braced to confront him. How could the man get better looking in less than twenty-four hours. He wore navy shorts and a collarless white pull-over that showed off both his tan and a patch of wiry chest hair near his throat. The same wealth of hair decorated his arms and legs. She swallowed at such blatant virility, and found herself flush with warring emotions of lust and restrain. She didn’t need this right now; she just didn’t. “It isn’t even close to noon, Darius D’Angelo.”

“I brought you your jeep.”

“Oh, I forgot it was still at your office. That was very kind of--” She frowned. “How do you know I drive a Jeep?”

“Called your office, talked to someone named Pete. He gave me your license number, said you kept an extra key under the floor mat, and that you always forget to lock your doors. Nice guy.”

“He was nice? To you?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“He must not have gotten my message.”

“He did, and told me if I didn’t see things your way, he knows a guy who’ll break both my knee caps. Once he got that out of his system, he was very congenial.”

“You don’t seem offended.”

Darius smiled. It softened things inside her, made her knees rubbery.

“If I cared about someone, I’d probably act the same way. I’m glad to see Rascal isn’t the only one looking out for you.”

“That’s the problem,” she snapped. “No one realizes I can look after myself. Now, will you put me down.”

His grin grew. “But I like you right where you are.”

She folded her arms and gave him a look that could melt steel. The truth of the matter was it did feel rather good. Tess’ entire body tingled and she had this irresistible urge to kiss the tiny nick his razor had made that morning. She also wouldn’t mind nibbling on his ear or tasting his lips. Only that wasn’t how she wanted to start off their week-end. Think calm thoughts, she ordered herself. Snow. Ice. Polar caps.

He lowered her to the floor, holding her for an instant longer than necessary. It wasn’t her frigid look that earned his cooperation, but his insidious need to carry her right into the bedroom and finish what they had started the day before. The woman was just so intoxicating. He had thought she was enticing in a dress, but she was down right sexy in shorts. For such a petite girl, her legs were shapely, her breasts were very full. Considering some stranger was fiddling with her back door and Luke loitered outside, he had to put a lid on his erogenous emotions. Not that he would really act on them if they were alone. He was well-aware that yesterday was a mistake that couldn’t be repeated.

Needing something to do with his hands before they landed on Tess, Darius stooped and rubbed Rascal behind the ears. “Luke followed me here in my car. I have to drop him off at his friend’s house, then I’ll be back by noon.”

“I’m just about ready now, if you’d like to get an earlier start. We could drop Luke off on the way.”

“Sounds good to me. Suitcases?”

“I found this outside on the lawn,” the repairman interrupted. Young, with brilliant blue eyes and rambunctious hair, he gave Tess a look of male appreciation as he displayed his find. “Must have been what came through that glass pane. Landed on the grass.”

Tess accepted the glass, amazed that it had stayed intact. “I’m surprised it stayed intact. Since I threw it; I’d have known.”

“You threw that through the door?” Darius asked incredulously. “Why?”

Would he believe her about Jason’s threat? She had a better chance of watching hell freeze over. “It’s not important.”

Darius studied her intently. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, her cheeks held twin spots of color. For the first time since they met, he could tell she was lying. Whatever made her fling that glass was very important. But whether or not it concerned him was another matter. Tess Montgomery’s world did not revolve around this one issue.

“If you say so,” he said, standing after giving Rascal one final rub.

Still avoiding his gaze, Tess flipped the attic stairs back into the ceiling, then headed toward a kitchen desk. “Let me just square this away,” she said as she pulled out a checkbook. “I have a duffel bag in the hall. Would you mind putting it in the jeep?”

“I was think of taking my car.”

She scribbled out the check and handed it to the repairman with a thank you. “Good. You can follow me. I think it’s important that we have separate vehicles.”

“Really.”

She waiting for the repairman to walk out before commenting. “If this doesn’t work out, I want to be able to leave without being dependent on you.”

“It’s your brother’s place. You could just kick me out.”

“Then I’d be stranded.”

“Tell you what, we’ll take my car, but I promise that no matter what happens, I’ll make sure you get home.”

She stared at him a moment. Was Darius D’Angelo the type to keep a promise? She didn’t know, but it wouldn’t do to start off the weekend arguing. “I’ll take my Jeep, and if anything happens, I’ll make sure you get home. Your car will be perfectly safe in my garage.”

Darius quirked a brow. Damn the woman was obstinate. Even though Darius could be just as stubborn, he knew when to concede a battle. This simply wasn’t important enough to argue about. “Okay, Tess, if that will make you feel more comfortable.”

Her stunned expression was worth the concession. She hadn’t expected him to give in. In fact, it wasn’t something he was used to doing, but for some reason he felt she needed the infinitesimal victory. He knew Tess’ assertiveness was a facade, donned to conceal a temperate nature. How many times had people taken advantage of that nature? Was that why she was so defensive? Why she felt an incredible need to appear strong? At the same time, there was something so vulnerable about her, something that brought out the male urge to protect and defend. Only who the hell was going to protect him against her alluring eyes and sensuous appeal. Perhaps, this week-end wasn’t such a good idea. It wouldn’t take much to fall for Tess Montgomery, and he had the uneasy feeling that he was already on the brink.

* * *

“This isn’t going to work,” Darius said as he viewed the combination of luggage and pet carriers surrounding the jeep. “We simply can’t fit it all. Whereas my Lexus--”

“Don’t start,” she ordered as she glanced over everything with a critical eye. “We’ll eliminate Rascal’s carrier. He really doesn’t need it.”

“How about the luggage? Once we bring out the rest of your paraphernalia, Luke will be forced to sit on the hood.”

“I don’t have anything else.”

Darius eyed the overnight bag. “You got to be kidding? Most women I know take a trunk for a single night. How are you going to make do for several?”

“All I need is a few short sets and a bathing suit.”

“I guess formal dinning is out then.”

“I can’t afford a formal dinner. Besides, I’m not a gourmet. As long as Oscar Meyer doesn’t go out of business, I’m all set.”

“My kind of gal,” Luke interjection. “Sure you two don’t want some company?”

Having been quiet up until now, Tess realized how awkward this must be for the boy. Did he know what the weekend was all about? “You’d really give up a weekend of fun to spend it with two old fogies.”

“You’re right. What was I thinking about?”

“You’re thinking about not having too much fun,” Darius ordered. “Remember the golden rule.”

Luke rolled his eyes heavenward. “Don’t do anything that’ll force you to smack me upside the head.”

Darius smiled. “Good memory.”

At Tess’ horrified look, Luke laughed. “Don’t worry, Tess. Even when I don’t remember the golden rule, Dad doesn’t smack me. He just grounds me for a year, takes away my phone, the internet, and Sega. I’d rather get smacked.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

Tess’ comment held such somber sincerity, Darius couldn’t help wondering if she had a history of violence. It would explain her self-defense training as well as her determination to appear strong. Would she reveal anything about her past over the week-end, or would she continue to hide behind a combative facade? If it came to that he had ways of breaking through her defenses, ways that he should be ashamed to even consider. Only those ways entailed ten percent cunning and ninety percent seduction. It wouldn’t be fair or scrupulous. Then again, if she was as conniving as Jason claimed, she’d probably do the seducing. At any rate, this week end promised to be anything but dull.

* * *

After dropping Luke off, they decided to travel the more scenic route to the shore and opted for back roads past cornfields and an occasional development. Both wary of broaching the wrong topic and destroying their brittle truce, they road in silence. Finally, Darius suggested they stop for lunch at a nearby diner. Following his directions, Tess pulled into a lot and parked in the shade of an ancient willow for the animals’ benefit. Before leaving the Jeep, Tess zipped open the jeep’s windows, provided the animals with bowls of water, and treats. She kept the cats in their carrier, but tethered Rascal to the tree.

Once inside the restaurant, Tess asked for a window booth so she could keep an eye on her pets. “It looks like rain,” she said with a worried frown.

“If it rains, we’ll have them box our lunches,” Darius assured her.

She gave the animals one last glance, then surveyed the diner. With red checkered curtains and country oak tables, it resembled a private home more than a restaurant. Tess would have enjoyed it all the more if her nerves weren’t as taut as piano wire.

“This is nice,” Tess announced, once they had ordered. “Considering I always use this route to the shore, it’s funny I never came across it.”

“I used to take Luke here when he was little.”

“Oh,” she said, stiffening.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. You’re not as unreadable as you try to be.”

Tess wasn’t startled by the declaration. Although few people could see beyond her feigned composure, Darius was exceptionally perceptive. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother her. After all, she wanted to be as candid as possible. If she held nothing back, then maybe he’d recognized the truth about Baby Alive.

“I was just a little concerned that you might have too many memories of this place,” she said. “I mean, Luke’s mother isn’t around so I assume... Um... I mean, if you used to come here with your baby son and your wife...”

“Don’t sweat it. I divorced Shelly before Luke was even born.”

“Oh,” she said again, this time with a tinge of anger. “You left a pregnant wife. How could you--”

“She left me,” he broke in before she jumped to all the wrong conclusions. “But I had agreed to take the baby ahead of time.”

Shock dominated Tess’ expression. “How could she not want her son?”

“Shelly wasn’t maternal. In fact, she was so involved in her career, she didn’t even realize she was pregnant until it was too late to have an abortion.”

“Lucky Luke.”

“Lucky me. I’d be lost without the boy. My only regret is that I don’t have any more children.”

“You could.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t intend to marry again. And that’s the only way I’d raise another child. Single parenting is just too difficult.”

“Don’t say that. I was thinking of having a go at it someday.”

“You don’t want to marry again either?”

“I do. But I doubt it will ever happen. Marriage takes a special kind of love that’s very hard to find.”

“And if you find it, chances are you’ll end up losing it,” he said.

“Isn’t that a bit cynical?”

“It’s reality. Fifty-one percent of all marriages break up. I bet you anything every one of those people involved thought their love was special, yet they became a statistic. I don’t care to become one again.”

Tess stared at him for long minutes. The pain in his eyes unnerved her. He was so tenacious, so powerful, she forgot he was also human with all the emotions and weakness of the species. She found herself wanting to comfort him. Considering the precariousness of their relationship, she wouldn’t have even known where to start. “I’m sorry she hurt you that badly. But forty-nine percent of all marriages do stay intact, and when true love comes along there’s nothing like it. It’s Christmas and New Year’s and the Fourth of July all rolled into one.”

“Is that experience talking?”

“My parent’s had that kind of love. It was miraculous. In some ways it was a blessing that one didn’t outlive the other. The remaining one would have been too heart-broken to have survived anyway.”

“How long have they’ve been gone, Tess?”

“Nearly nine years. They died in a plane crash.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She nodded. “I am too. They might have been insanely over-protective, but they were also extremely loving. I miss them a lot.”

Just then the waitress appeared with Darius’ turkey on whole wheat with a side salad and coffee and Tess’ hamburger, fries, and milkshake. They both took several bites, before the conversation resumed. “You said your parent’s had true love. How about you, Tess?”

She didn’t want to talk about own experiences, but she didn’t want to appear evasive either. After all, she was striving for total honesty. She only hoped he didn’t ask anything too difficult. “At first, I thought I loved Michael. I wouldn’t have married him if I didn’t. Later I realized my feelings had nothing at all to do with love.”

He sipped coffee, watched her expressions. She tried so hard to maintain an outward calm, but he noted the anxiety in her eyes. He wanted to replace that anxiety with other emotions: serenity, happiness, and God help him, passion. With his gaze, he traced the curve of her cheek, the arch of her neck, the length of her collarbone, then downward to the valley between her breasts just visible above her scooped neck top. Heat started in his groin and flared outward, encompassing him, reminding Darius that he was a man who had been without a woman for a very long time.

Darius, though, knew this wasn’t just about lust. He liked Tess. He liked the way she braved the world and fought for her rights. He liked her inbred kindness and delicacy. He liked her voice. It reminded him of wind chimes coaxed by a summer breeze. He even liked the way she nibbled at her food as if appreciating every morsel. More than anything, he liked her candid reactions. She hid nothing, offered everything especially in the bedroom.

He hadn’t forgotten the way she felt, the way she kissed, the way she offered herself without reserve. He instinctively knew their lovemaking would be unprecedented. He also knew he couldn’t make a move in that direction until after he trusted her. Suddenly, the business end of all this wasn’t as important to him as the personal results. For the first time in years, he was beginning to believe that commitment with the right person just might be possible. Of course, he still had a his share of doubts, and wasn’t about to jump into anything. Yet, the possibility of something lasting surged through his system, making him feel younger and even more aroused. Knowing he had to maintain some sort of control, he concentrated on their conversation.

“If you didn’t love him, what did you feel, Tess?”

“Fear,” she blurted on a thread of sound. “I was terrified of him.”

Tess stared at the remaining food, no longer hungry. She had said too much. How would she ever explain?

“I mean,” she went on. “I used to be a coward. It didn’t take much to...”

The words drifted. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to go there, okay? It has nothing to do with Holly.”

Darius knew her past was none of his damn business, but he sensed he needed to know everything if he ever intended to trust her. “I don’t want to hurt you, Tess. But I think it’s important that I know what happened. If Jason wasn’t Michael’s twin, then, perhaps it wouldn’t be necessary. As it stands...”

The words trailed into nothing, but Tess realized it was essential that he know the truth. Maybe then he wouldn’t put so much stock in Jason’s accusations. And he didn’t have to take her word for all of it either. Quite a bit of her story could be collaborated. She opened her eyes, but stared at the table and played with the paper placemat, folding and unfolding the corner. “Jason and I worked together at Tubular Toys for about a year. We got along fairly well, but we weren’t friendly outside of work until my parents died. He suddenly became very solicitous, and within a few days introduced me to his brother. At the time, I was this pathetic needy creature who couldn’t tell a con job if it came with an announcement.”

She paused and sipped the milkshake. “Michael came on strong, playing on my grief, filling the emotional void my parent’s had left. Before I knew it, I had agreed to marry him. I believe that for awhile he really did care about me. He was a control freak, and I was easily manipulated. I never argued or asserted myself. I even anticipated his moods and acted accordingly. When he wanted gaiety, I was all smiles and laughter. When he wanted sex, I was compliant. When he wanted silence, I stayed out of his way. I was the perfect Stepford wife until I became pregnant.”

Tess didn’t notice the fury playing across Darius’ eyes. Nor, did she realize the extent of his control. He wanted to hold her, tell her to stop, that she didn’t need to humiliate herself to satisfy his curiosity. But this wasn’t about curiosity. It was about uncovering the truth and for some obscure reason, Darius knew it was significant.

“What happened then?” Darius prompted.

Tess no longer toyed with the placemat, instead she squirted more ketchup on her fries, picked up her fork and stabbed a fry. It dangled in midair for moment, then landed back on the plate. The thought of eating nauseated her.

“He wanted me to get an abortion; I refused. I didn’t know how to fight for myself, but it was easy to fight for the life of my child. I was no longer complacent and even started asserting myself in other areas, including finances. You see, by the time I was seven months pregnant, I decided to leave Michael and I wanted to know where I stood financially. Even though I hadn’t touched my inheritance, I knew Michael had. He went through quite a bit of it, but there was still enough for me to start a new life. Michael, though, didn’t believe in divorce. He said, there was only one way out of the marriage for me and that was in a coffin. I thought he was trying to scare me. Like I said, in those days it didn’t take much.”

She finally lifted her head and met Darius’ stare. She flinched at the rage embedded there, but ignored it. He had wanted to hear the sordid details. Well, he was about to get his wish. “It wasn’t a scare tactic. Michael did try to kill me. Obviously, I survived. My baby didn’t.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Remembered pain knifed through her. Sudden tears marred Tess’ vision. She didn’t want Darius to see her like this. Without saying anything, she abruptly bolted from the restaurant.

Once outside, she walked toward the jeep. Obvious of the wet ground, she plopped down, buried her head against Rascal’s neck, and battled tears. How did fighting for the rights of her product turn into a soul wrenching examination of her past? What right did Darius have to ask that much of her? She tried to summon anger. Grief intervened along with a familiar tightening in her chest.

As if sensing her need, Darius appeared, pouch in one hand, inhaler in the other. “Do you need this?” he asked softly.

She wanted to refused the medication, to pretend she wasn’t about to start wheezing and gasping like a fool. But no amount of bravado would change the fact that stress inevitably brought on an asthma attack. And she had enough stress over the last few days to send her into anaphylactic shock. Snatching the inhaler, she performed the perfunctory ritual, then settled against a tire, wishing the world away especially the piece that Darius inhabited.

Unfortunately, Darius wasn’t about to cooperate. Without warning, he gathered her up in powerful arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was that bad. That’s why you testified against him, isn’t it?”

Tess wanted to pull away. The harbor of his embrace, though, was irresistible. She leaned into him, energized by his strength. “Yes. And God help me I didn’t feel any remorse when he died. I didn’t know I could be so cold.”

“He killed your baby. You had every right to be cold.” He tightened his hold. “How? How did it happen?”

The scene flooded her mind. Pain seared her senses. She couldn’t go there; she just couldn’t. Jerking out of his embrace, she feigned anger. “Oh, I see. Just knowing isn’t enough. You want the gory details as well.”

His eyes bore into her, piercing, insistent. “No, Tess. I don’t need details. Hell, I can snap my finger and have someone look up the details. It’s you who needs to talk about it. Have you ever done that?”

“Over and over again,” she shouted, forgetting to center herself, forgetting about being calm, yet remembering more than she wanted to remember. She should have died back then. At the time she had wanted to die. “I told the cops, lawyers. I repeated it all in court.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone who cares about you?”

Something inside her cracked. That something that she thought was impregnable. “And what good would that do?”

“Eliminate some of that hostility.”

“I’m not hostile,” she screamed, then caught herself. She immediately became still, glacial. “I already told you more than I should have. If you need any more details, then go on and snap your fingers. Get a flunky to look up the old newspaper reports. If I ever do decide to spill my guts again, I’ll talk to someone who does care. That, D’Angelo, leaves you out.”

Darius accepted the rebuke with stoicism and shame. What was he doing to this woman, poking and probing as if she were a specimen to be dissected? He wanted to know her, not destroy her. Yet her revelation brought about another angle. What if Tess had stolen the design not for monetary gain but out of revenge? Michael might have died for his crime, but what if that hadn’t been enough? What if she believed Jason needed a dose of retribution as well? From what Tess had implied, Michael had married her for the inheritance and Jason had arranged it. If she wanted revenge, what better way than to ruin a man’s career. He didn’t want to think that of her. He wanted to... What!? What is it you want from this woman? he demanded of himself. The answer simmered just beneath the surface of his thoughts, but Darius didn’t reach for it. He wasn’t ready to confront the totality of his feelings for her. Tess Montgomery was wrong in her assessment of him. He did care. Cared too damn much.

* * *

During the reminder of the rainy ride, Rascal slept, the cats purred and Tess drove over the desolate back roads with reckless fervor. Although Darius wished she’d slow down or at the very least let him drive, he said nothing. Seatbelt tight, lips clamped together, Darius pretended a calm he didn’t feel. He knew all about wrestling inner demons and suspected Tess was in the midst of an intense battle. He only hoped she didn’t get them both killed before she worked through her dilemma.

Tess wasn’t wrestling with anything. She was running, running from her past, from her inability to resist Darius’ smallest touch, from her own stupidity. She never should have been so candid with him. Didn’t he have enough ammunition to use against her without her donating more? Now, he’d know how easily she could be manipulated. Would he take advantage of that? So far he had been more than fair. But Darius still had his doubts. If he decided she was a liar, he’d tear her apart.

If her emotions weren’t involved, she might be able to survive his fury. As it stood, she was drowning in sensations that she didn’t even understand. She more than liked Darius, liked him past sensibility. If there weren’t any obstacles between them, she’d succumb to her own emotions as well as to his advances. It wouldn’t be the wisest move. Darius didn’t believe in love or commitment, and she wasn’t certain she could convince him that either was a possibility. Still, if she had had the chance to try, she wouldn’t have wasted it.

The man intrigued her. She didn’t understand his combination of strength and kindness. Her own father had been a passive man not unlike her brother. They rarely even watched action films, preferring historical documentaries instead. Neither of them ever went looking for a fight, but they did stand their ground when the need arose. They just made sure the need didn’t arise very often. In opposition, Michael had thrived on confrontation. He feared nothing, and challenged everything. Kindness was something as alien to Michael’s nature as violence had been to both her brother and father.

Pete was about the only male she had ever known to possess both strength and gentleness. But he had the type of temperament that didn’t run to extremes. Darius, however, had depths and temperaments that vacillated from fiery hot to arctic cold. She had no doubt he could handle himself as easily in a street brawl as in a nursery. She was also just as certain that his sensitivity ran as deeply as his passions. She didn’t know that such tempered strength could co-exist with such extreme caring. He was an enigma she longed to comprehend. He was a man she could learn to love. Only, that wasn’t a possibility now and probably never would be. In the end, running was getting her nowhere.

Slowing as she approached the drawbridge just outside the resort, Tess glanced at Darius “Most men wouldn’t have put up with that ride in silence.”

“I was afraid if I opened my mouth, you’d lose your concentration. I’m just surprised you weren’t stopped by a state trooper.”

“Got lucky, I guess.”

“We both did. We’re still in one piece,” he returned dryly.

Silenced reigned for several more minutes as Tess navigated the bridge, then she made an effort to salvage what remained of the drive. “I hope you don’t like to party. This is a dry town, you know.”

“I know,” he returned, still tense and unbending. “My family used to come here when I was a kid. It was founded by a minister, Simon Lake, about 1880, and served as a temperance retreat for family living and church conferences. I wonder if that Blue Law is still in effect.”

“I’m not sure,” she said, turning onto Ocean Drive. “The merchants hate it, but the tourists and residents like it. On Sundays nothing’s open. It’s very peaceful. Either way, it won’t matter to us. My brother’s bungalow is located at the very edge of the resort. I usually make a grocery run, and then don’t get in my car again until I’m ready to leave. I’m not the tourist type.”

“Just a speed demon.” His tone was still dry, but he offered her a half smile. “Next time around, I’ll drive, okay?”

Guilt made acquiescence easy. “Fine,” she said softly, then switched off the windshield wipers, grateful for a reprieve from the endless drizzle.

Once again silent, she followed Ocean Drive. Here and there she caught glimpses of the boardwalk that ran the length of Ocean City’s eroding beach front. Vacationers headed toward it, with hopes that the rain was finished for the day. Most of the homes still had front porches and brightly painted shutters. Wisteria vines trailed along roof tops while locust trees stretched toward the gray, cheerless sky.

Bypassing the bridge that would haul them into Sea Isle, Tess motored further down the island to a point where both the ocean and bay were visible.

She pulled up to a white clapboard bungalow set on sturdy pilings. Facing the ocean, the dwelling squatted behind sand dunes decorated with swamp thistle and wild flowers. Though small, it was freshly painted and boasted a new deck.

After allowing Rascal to run free along the dunes, she plucked up the cat carrier, duffel bag, and pouch. Taking his own overnighter out of the jeep, Darius grabbed the duffel bag from Tess, challenging her with his eyes to deny him that small gentlemanly gesture. Tess didn’t have any fight left. She was barely hanging on, and the weekend hadn’t even started.

With a sigh, she climbed stairs and entered the house by using a key hidden under a potted geranium. Once inside, she released the cats who rushed about for several minutes before settling down on twin cat cushions positioned in front of a hearth.

Darius tossed his overnight bag up to the loft, then took in his surroundings. One fair size room displayed a kitchen alcove and living area. To the right, he noted the entrance to a bedroom and another to a bathroom. The loft, situated behind him, hovered over built in bookcases and a small entertainment center. Natural fabrics of varying shades of white covered windows, chairs and matching love seats. Wicker dominated the decor along with Berber rugs and recess lighting embedded in thick ceiling beams.

“Very nice,” Darius announced after Tess placed her own luggage in the bedroom.

“It used to belong to my parents. Joe and I inherited it equally, but I signed it over to him before I had married Michael. I guess some sixth sense made me realize Michael would have disposed of it for the money. Although, with Joe living in Europe, I end up using it more than he does anyway.”

Tess threw open windows and inhaled the tangy sea air. “I haven’t been here for a few weeks. We need to get in some food, clean the place up a bit.”

Darius couldn’t keep his eyes off Tess. Standing in a stream of sunlight, her hair brightened to burnished gold, her eyes sparkled, her skin glowed as if dusted with glitter. And her lips, dear God, her lips beckoned with endless persistence. Before he could stop himself, he shortened the distance between them. The urge to kiss her trembled inside him, but he settled for tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

He caught the tremor in her voice and knew she was just as affected by his proximity as he was by hers. “Definitely,” he said. “I’m having a hard time remembering why we’re here. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

“I’m not.” she began, even as his praise warmed her in the coldest recesses of her soul. “I look like a mouse.”

He frowned, traced a finger along her jaw line. “Where did you ever get such a ridiculous idea?”

“It used to be my nickname.”

“Perhaps because you’re petite, delicate. I’m sure no one meant it in a derogatory way.” He smiled, slowly. “Your nickname should be wench.”

He tugged at her braid, loosening the strands until her hair was an untamable mass of waves. Then he inched the sides of her top over her shoulder, displaying the full width of her collarbone, the top swell of her breasts.

She should have stopped him; she couldn’t. There was something hypnotic about his gaze, paralyzing about his touch.

He turned her toward a wicker framed mirror just inside the entrance. “Does that look like a mouse to you? God, woman, you’re sexy, rambunctious, untamable, a true wench.”

Surely he wasn’t describing that timid creature in the mirror. All Tess could see was a snip of a nose, unremarkable eyes, and lips that had a perpetual pout attached to them. “Mouse,” she confirmed. “A skinny mouse at that.”

Darius cursed softly. “Damn it, Tess! Look! Really look.”

From behind, he ran his thumb across her jaw line, then over her collarbone. She shivered at his touch.

“You’re slender, well-defined.” His fingertips trailed down her side, outlined a breast, her infinitesimal waist, the slight flare of her hips. It was as if his fingers were smoldering embers, setting her on fire. “You’re proportions are flawless.”

He pulled her back against him, his hands settling on her shoulders. His voice became husky, deep. “Dear God, Tess, look how you fit against a man. You’re not a mouse, dear heart. You’re a sensuous, provocative wench.”

For an instant, Tess saw herself as he did. Desire had stained her cheeks and enflamed her eyes. Her nipples had hardened against the fabric of her top. Her hair lifted on the wings of a gentle breeze, making the crimped strands appear wild, as wild as the impassioned blood seething in her veins. Perhaps she did resembled a wench, but it was his touch that transformed her. Staring into the mirror, she realized she wasn’t the only one that had been transformed. Darius’ eyes smoldered, his nostrils flared. His expression triggered an image of a pirate, intent on claiming his captive. And, more than anything, she wanted him to claim her. She couldn’t think beyond being claimed.

She tilted her head, baring the slender arch of her neck to his devouring gaze. She heard him swallow, but he didn’t respond to the blatant invitation. If she had an ounce of sense, she would step away, forcing them both to regain a measure of control. But the temptress in the mirror wouldn’t cooperate. It was as if that alter ego took over, forcing Tess to press against Darius’ long, hard length.

She heard his savage curse, felt the tremors rip through his body as his will dissolved to nothing. Hot lips attacked her responsive flesh, sucking and nipping until he branded her neck. Heat invaded every core, weakening her knees, toppling her world. She no longer heard the crashing surf. It was replace by the deafening beat of her heart. She no longer inhaled the tangy salt air. Darius’ masculine scent of soap and heat saturated her. She was in a universe of his making and she never wanted to leave.

He moved his mouth across her exposed shoulder, tongue and lips taunting. The wench in the mirror lifted her arms and knotted her fingers in ebony hair, a further offering, wordless encouragement. His hands traveled the length of her, over her breasts, downward to her thighs, then up again until they slipped under her top. His thumbs traced the curve of her bra, fingers settling on the front clasp.

“Tess?” he whispered into her flesh. It was a question, a need for permission.

She moaned in response. He unclasped the bra.

Nothing in her experience prepared Tess for the sensations that Darius provoked. It was more potent than the day before, more intense. His palms were slightly callous, yet his touch was gentle. He cupped each breast, squeezing, massaging, then his thumbs caressed taut nipples until they ached for more, until she ached for more. With a boldness that was totally unlike her, she pushed his hand to the waistband of her shorts, helping him unfastened the belt and snap. The zipper slid downward. His fingers slipped into her panties, searching for the core of intimacy and exploring it as if he had every right.

And why not? She had given him that right without thought to consequences or even an analysis of her feelings. This is nothing more than lust, an inner voice accused. But Tess knew it was more. She felt something for this man that went beyond sexual excitement. There was a fairness about him that she hadn’t expected, a sensitivity that wasn’t the norm for a high powered executive. He wasn’t showy or arrogant, only determined, assertive. He didn’t demand anything she wasn’t willing to give, nor did he expect anything but honesty. But she did expect something more. She believed in commitment and love, not blind lust. Only she didn’t love him. How could she love him? They barely knew each other. She felt something, though, something strong and potent, something that kept her from stopping his exploring hands and searing mouth.

She blinked at the image in the mirror. The wench and the pirate bore little resemblance to the executive and the mouse, yet Tess knew it didn’t make this right. Somehow, she had to stop him, but his fingers discovered her most sensitized nub. She caught her breath as needle thrills of sensation spread outward. She had never been this aroused, never felt such need. True Michael had managed to stimulate her senses in the beginning of their marriage, but she had never known satisfaction. Now, though, it wouldn’t take much to send her spiraling into that unknown sphere, and without warning the slender thread of sense that would have propelled her away from Darius snapped.

Darius felt the totality of her surrender. Beneath layers of heat and desire, a still sane part of him protested this seduction. He had no right. But how did a man resist such total submission. She was his for the taking, and he wanted not just to take, but to possess. Every inch of him burned and trembled with reaction.

Still, he wanted more than this moment, and he didn’t think that would ever be possible. Had it been only twenty-four hours since he had insulted her, then nearly killed her? And wasn’t it just hours ago that he forced an agonizing admission from her? To add insult to injury, he didn’t trust her.

Despite all that, he couldn’t stop wanting her. She was so warm and pliant, so utterly under his control. What man wouldn’t respond to such amorous reactions? But he didn’t want a cheap thrill with Tess. He wanted to open his heart and believe in her completely. Given his history would he ever be able to do that? He came from a family where divorce was almost a tradition, and a marriage where honesty had taken an hiatus. Perhaps, this was the closest he would ever get to intimacy with this woman. Perhaps, he should just stop analyzing and yield to the magnetic heat of mutual gratification.

He pushed her shorts and panties downward, lifted her slightly and slipped two fingers inside her, thrusting with experienced strokes, wooing her silently. He watched her expressions in the mirror - the dilation of pupils, the quick rapid breaths, the intense concentration - and knew she was reaching the apex of fulfillment. She wouldn’t protest if he push her to the floor and satisfied them both, but there was something else in her expression that stopped him: total astonishment, wondrous discovery. Darius suddenly realized she had never experienced this much pleasure. How could that be?

At that moment, their gazes clashed in the mirror. Both were raw with passion, but hers held shadows of uncertainty and unbelievable innocence. The revelation simultaneously enflamed and strengthen him. He refused to take advantage of such inexperience. At the same time, he wasn’t about to leave her like this.

He inched backwards, supported himself against the loveseat’s arm and braced her against his solid body. Her shorts and panties slipped further down her legs. Darius used one foot to kick them off entirely. All the while, he continued his single minded assault, stroking with audacious skill.

A distant part of Tess realized she had crossed the boundary of sensibility. There was no stopping her accent into newfound sensations. Still, that distant part begged for rationalization, demanded she acknowledge the disaster in progress. Only the silken slide of his fingers fired her beyond resistance. She arched with abandon, wanting more than just satisfaction, wanting to feel him inside her, wanting him to believe she was worthy of so much more than this. But the needs of her body outweighed those wants. She flung her head back and breathed his name as her entire body shimmered on wave after wave of pleasure.

Outside, the sky darkened once more. A cool wind cut through the bungalow, cooling fevered skin even as Tess’ inner thermostat ricocheted out of control. She fell apart against his hand, again and again. Regret and shame instantly snapped at the heels of gratification, but there was another stronger emotion. She wanted to please him, give Darius the same gift that he had given her.

Fearing she’d lose her nerve if she looked into his gaze, she closed her eyes then turned in the circle of his embrace. Finding his mouth, she kissed him with every ounce of boldness she possessed. Her hands were under his shirt. Tugging and pulling, she wrestled it off his hard frame. Darius didn’t expect her instantaneous reaction. He thought she’d be spent, not hungry for more. His defenses started to buckle. All rationale seemed insignificant compared to the need to take her, pounding and hard, until they were both sated and exhausted. The availability of protection was the only sane thought that remained. He knew there was at least one packet in his bag, left over from a brief interlude several years before. Was it any good? Did it matter? Tess hadn’t been with anyone since her husband had died eight years before. Her inexperience vouched for it, and he hadn’t been sexually active for a hell of lot longer than his masculine pride liked to admit. Still, he didn’t want to get her pregnant.

Her hand unbuckled his belt, tugged on his zipper. And he suddenly realized he wouldn’t mind if she carried his child. He was being irrational. He recognized the fact, but couldn’t do a damn thing about it. The little control he had possessed was gone. He had given it to Tess. She touched him and his manhood swelled to an impossible degree, her inexperienced fingers doing more damage than the most skilled femme fatale ever could.

For one long minute, he lost himself to yearning muscles and scalding blood. Then, in the distant haze of reality a warning bell clamored for his attention. He ignored it, but somehow Tess had heard it, too. She backed away from him. Her entire body shook with reaction. “W... What... What’s that?”

As if in a fog, he listened an instant longer, then remembered his pocket cellular. Knowing it could be Luke, Darius pulled the receiver out of his pant pocket and tried to still the tremor in his voice.

“D’Angelo.”

Luke’s voice held elements of laughter. “Hey, you’re out of breath. What did you do, run a marathon?”

Darius stared at Tess. It didn’t seem possible, but she trembled even more violently than a moment before. She was struggling to get into her shorts. She couldn’t work the belt buckle.

“Something like that,” he said.

“Cool. I just called to tell you we got to Rehobeth okay, and was wondering if I could stay until Wednesday. Then you wouldn’t have to come out to get me. John’s parents could take me home.”

“Did you square it with them?”

“Tim said it’s okay. Cathy’s not here. She said, she’ll be down tomorrow.”

“Then have a good time. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Cool,” Luke said again just before hanging up.

Darius replaced the receiver slowly, taking a second to compose himself and adjust his own clothes. Tess had given up on the belt, and was now working on clasping her bra, fingers fumbling blindly under her top . He never saw a woman more embarrassed. Scarlet cheeks rivaled tear-filled eyes. She kept sucking in her bottom lip to still its trembling.

He called himself every kind of fool. He shouldn’t have let this happen. God the woman didn’t have any more experience than an adolescent, and he had taken advantage of that. He let him own damn passions and arrogance overcome his better judgment.

“Tess, it’s all right,” he said softly. “These things happen. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Of course it’s not.” Her words were shaky. She pushed at her hair, looking beyond him, then downward, upward, anywhere but at him.

“We got carried away, that’s all.”

A tear fell.

“We’re adults, dear heart. With adult needs. It’s not worth getting this upset over.”

She couldn’t manage the bra’s clasp either. With a fierce tug she pulled until the straps snapped, then she flung it from her. Her top molded thrusting breasts and tight hard nipples, proving that her passion hadn’t abated anymore than his own had.

“Look at me, Tess.”

She straightened, slowly, became still, too still, then met his gaze. Another tear fell.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

“I’m... I’m not.”

“Don’t lie. Not about this.”

She turned from him. Her entire body trembled.

“Why, Tess. I don’t understand your reactions. You’re a thirty-one year old woman not a teenager? Tell me what’s going on.”

She shook her head just slightly. He would have missed it if he had blinked.

Cursing silently, he moved toward her, stopping when he faced her. “Talk to me, dear heart. Let it out.”

She said nothing, didn’t move, only stared in that silent, still way of hers.

This time his curse was both vocal and vicious.

Tess remained still, but pain saturated the watery depths of her eyes.

God, why did he keep hurting her? Regardless of what she did or didn’t do, she didn’t deserve the emotional roller coaster he had put her on. No, he wasn’t the one who had brought her to this point. He was only finishing the job someone else had started. He thought about what her husband had done and knew attempted murder was only the end result of abuse he could only guess at. He no longer suspected she was faking anything. That didn’t mean he trusted her. Hell, it only gave her more motive than ever to seek revenge. Somehow, though, it didn’t matter. All that concerned him was this intense need to help her heal, to take her in his arms and make her feel safe. It was a ridiculous impulse, but it didn’t stop him from reaching out.

“Ah, Tess,” he whispered, trying to pull her into his arms.

She struggled free, using a touch of self-defense and a bundle of desperation. “Don’t touch me!”

With that, she rushed out of the bungalow, stumbling down the deck stairs before racing over the dunes.

Stunned by her response, it took a moment for Darius to react. It was just enough time for Tess to get a good head start. He had expected her to head for the ocean, but he didn’t anticipate she’d sprint into the angry, frigid waves.

Rascal also raced after her, attacked a wave, then rushed back toward Darius, whinny and jumping as if encouraging him to do something. Darius simply watched her. He had to give her space. That thought lasted all of a minute. Tess swam past the breakers, further and further until she was only a pebble on the monstrous sea.

“Tess!” he screamed, knowing she couldn’t possibly hear him over the rushing waves, yet calling her again.

With a savage curse, he tore off his sneakers and jumped into the ocean. Swimming with perfect, strong strokes, he cut through the breakers like a sharp knife. When he felt he was far enough out, he lifted his head. He turned one way, then another. Gray skies and endless water stared back at him. Panic surged through his system along with a hardy dose of fear. Tess had disappeared.

CHAPTER NINE

Tess had plunged into the ocean and welcomed the cold embrace. For the first time in her life, she had experienced the ultimate sexual thrill, and it was with a man who didn’t even trust her. She didn’t know what shamed her more: giving into passion so easily or not having the courage to face Darius afterward. He must think her a fool. She certainly felt like one. A more experienced woman would have shrugged off the incident. Tess couldn’t even hide her embarrassment.

A threatening wave loomed before her. She dove under and continued to swim, strong, angry strokes that took her much too far from shore. But it wasn’t the first time. Like braving a thunder storm, it was a way of assuring herself that she wasn’t a total coward. As usual, she had been too impulsive and rash. She hadn’t even taken the time to shed her sneakers. The ocean had already devoured one, but the other clung to her foot like an anchor. She attempted to kick it off and only ended up swallowing a mouth full of sea water. For an instant, panic seized her. She was beyond the breakers. The water was choppy with a strong undertow.

Calm, she though. Still yourself. Breathe. She followed her own orders even as her teeth began to chatter and her flesh chilled. After treading water for several minutes, she slipped beneath the chaotic waves to deal with the sneaker. Just as she tugged it free, she felt herself being lifted upward.

“Breathe, damn you!” Darius ordered.

“I am,” she returned, pushing away as she gulped air. “What are you doing out here?”

“Me? Oh, just thought I’d go for a little swim,” he snapped sarcastically. “What the hell do you think I’m doing? Better yet, what the hell are you doing? First the thunderstorm, now this! Damn it, woman! What the hell is the matter with you? Do you have death wish or something?”

Tess didn’t think she could be any more embarrassed and allowed herself to drift several feet from him. “I needed to cool off.”

“There are easier ways. You could--” He broke off as a wave crested and crashed over their heads. He came up coughing.

Concerned, Tess dove toward him. “Are you all right?”

“I could be better. Let’s get out of here, okay?”

She nodded, but uncertainty invaded her system. The beach looked so distant. A lethargic veil clung to her limbs, weighing her down. She couldn’t stop shivering. Still, she refused to show any sign of weakness. With more skill than strength, she swam against the undertow.

Unlike Tess, Darius’ strokes were powerful and he soon pulled ahead, pausing now and then to let her catch up. The instant he noticed her losing ground, though, he stopped her in mid-stroke. “Come here,” he ordered, slipping his arm under her chin in a classic rescue maneuver.

Her mouth opened in protest. She tugged at his arm, trying to pull away. “Don’t even think it, wench! If I wait for you, we’ll be here until midnight.”

“Then don’t wait,” she retorted. “I’ll make it back. I always do.”

“I won’t leave you, Tess.” The anger deserted his tone. An emotion she couldn’t identify replaced it. “Get used to it, dear heart. Get real used to it.”

* * *

As the day progressed, neither conversed over much. It was as if they both needed to regroup. The silence carried into the night, and Tess made a hasty retreat to bed soon after they consumed a deep dish pizza. Both cats accompanied her, but Rascal stayed with Darius. Tess felt somewhat betrayed, but then had the eerie suspicion that Rascal was simply keeping an eye on the human male.

For nearly the entire night, Tess stared at the ceiling. She refused to think about Darius and his suspicions, and she totally ignored her own persistent longings. Instead, she meditated, kept her world still, her mind filled with flowing water and cloudless skies. By morning, she felt refreshed despite her lack of sleep and made her way to the ocean for a swim just before dawn.

“It’s freezing,” Darius called out from the water’s edge.

Startled, Tess actually jumped back. “Wh...What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

As if agreeing with him, Rascal barked from his perch next to Darius. “Looks like you’re suffering from the same ailment.”

“I always get up early,” she protested.

“Me too.” He grinned. “But I never had the need to plunge into a frigid ocean before dawn.”

She had just managed to ignore that insatiable need and he had to bring it up again. Darn him! Her entire body suddenly felt feverish. She stared at the horizon. A delicate line of red appeared where ocean met sky.

“Ah, I see you still feel the same discomfort.”

She ignored his sexy Speedo that revealed all too much of his masculinity, and wadded into the ocean. “Nonsense. I just want to go for a swim before the rain starts again.”

“I’ll join you.”

“It’s a free ocean.”

“We can’t go on like this, you know.”

“Like what?” she said, stooping to catch a wave. Chills rushed through her.

“We can’t get to know each other, if we don’t talk.”

“It’s too early to talk.”

Tess jumped into a wave and appeared on the other side, pushing hair and water out of her face. He was right there, not quite steady as waves pounded around him, but balanced enough to snare her arm. “Drop the barriers, okay? Hostility isn’t going to get us anywhere. What happened, happened. Let it go.”

She dropped her head to his chest, knowing she had been acting childish. But she never had to deal with this type of situation before. “I’m sorry. I just never knew I could lose control like that. I never had... not ever.”

“I know.”

She lifted her head. “How?”

“It’s one of those male things.” He touched her bottom lip, studied it as if it were rare and priceless. “Let’s swim, okay?”

Instead of answering, Tess dived into another wave.

They swam under the brightening sky for nearly thirty minutes, then made their way back to shore. By that time, a steady drizzle had started once again. Yet, they sprawled on the beach for several minutes, catching their breath before heading back to the bungalow. Both took quick, hot showers, then rinsed and dried off Rascal. Afterward, Tess made hot tea laced with brandy and opened a tin of English biscuits and a jar of strawberry jam.

“Here,” Tess said, handing Darius a steaming mug. “It will have to do for breakfast. I’ll get to the store later.”

Still damp from a shower, one swath of hair fell into his eyes. His unbuttoned shirt displayed a good expanse of muscle, tanned skin, and sensuous down.

Watching him, Tess swallowed.

“Doesn’t stop, does it?” he inquired as he accepted the mug and settled into a loveseat.

She averted her gaze. “I should be ashamed of myself.”

He laughed. “Then so should I. It seems not even the chilling depths of the ocean can quench the fire.”

She noticed the bulge at the apex of his thighs and flushed. “We have a real problem on our hands. I hope you realize that.”

He shrugged. “We’ll work it out.”

“How?” she whispered, her voice thick. “I can’t stop these feelings, but I don’t want to sleep with a man who doesn’t trust me. I can’t allow what happened yesterday afternoon to happen again. As much as I enjoy your touch, I feel guilty. I believe there should be something more solid than lust between two people before they sleep together.”

“We didn’t sleep together.”

“We came awful close.” She shifted her gaze to the window. Outside the ocean followed it’s endless quest to land. A lone jogger sprinted beyond the dunes. “Besides, you... I... um... What you did to me... For me. Have I said thank you? It was extraordinary.”

His lips lifted slightly. “You don’t need to thank me. I enjoyed it just as much.”

She glanced at him. Uncertainty stamped her features. “How could that be?”

“Satisfying a woman is a great ego builder.”

“Really?”

“To some men, anyway.” The smile faded. “I can’t believe you never experienced that before?”

She stared at the mug. The room suddenly felt uncomfortably warm. She said nothing.

“But you were married. You’re not a virgin even though you sometimes act like one. I don’t understand.”

“Michael always had to be in control, even in bed. He wouldn’t allow any participation. Still, he tried once or twice to bring me to that point. It just didn’t happen.”

She couldn’t see Darius’ face, but she heard the incredulous edge to his tone. “Once or twice? He only tried once or twice?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered how many times he had tried, I couldn’t relax with him.”

“If that’s true, then how could you possible relax with me. I’ve put you through so much.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she confessed. “I know you’d never hurt me. I trust you.”

Her words toppled his defenses as thoroughly as a wrecking ball. A woman had never said that to him before. “You can’t possibly trust me.”

“What’s not to trust? You’re giving me the benefit of the doubt. That’s more than anyone else in this industry would do?”

“That’s only because of what Jason did. By the way, I fired him. I don’t give a damn if he had created Baby Alive. He left you to die, and nothing can convince me differently, not even Tommy.”

She looked up, staring at him in astonishment. “You fired him because of me?”

“Because of what he did, Tess. If it weren’t for Tommy, I wouldn’t have believed a word he had said from the start.”

Tess wet her lips, then blurted. “He told me he has something on Tommy, that’s how he got him to collaborate the story.”

Darius’ expression darkened with emotions that chilled her more than the ocean had. “And just when did he tell you that?"

She hesitated, hating the disbelief in his intense gaze. “It’s not important.”

“Tell me,” he ordered in a tone that denied debate.

“The other night. He was in my cottage when I got home.”

Darius inched forward and placed the mug on the wicker coffee table. “There wasn’t a car.”

“He probably parked in the shadows, next to the house. Neither of us would have seen it from where we pulled up.”

He stood, ate up the floor with long steps, first one way, then another. “What did he want?”

Again she hesitated, slumping against a stool.

“Well,” Darius demanded impatiently.

“He wanted me to tell you that I had lied.”

“And if you didn’t?”

She sipped the tea. Liquid heat slid down her throat. “He made an empty threat.”

Darius stopped pacing. A ominous scowl darkened his features. “What makes you believe it was empty? Despite the fact there wasn’t enough evidence to do anything about it, he did try to kill you yesterday.”

“No he didn’t. He was trying to make me look like a liar. He didn’t know I’d stop breathing.”

“But you were his sister-in-law. How could he not know?”

“That’s what I thought at first, but then he reminded me that--” She broke off. She didn’t like revealing the extent of her husband’s abuse. It made her look like such a fool.

“Tell me,” he insisted. “And I swear if you say it’s not important, I’ll stop asking questions and start using my hands.”

“I won’t let you hit me,” she whipped out with blunt defiance.

An incredulous stare appeared, then came a look of such undiluted compassion, Tess could no longer face him. He knows now, she thought, feeling as if the entire fabric of her life had been ripped apart. He knows I allowed myself to be degraded. How can I ever gain back his respect?

He was suddenly there, prying the mug from her fierce grip, taking her into his arms. “You misunderstood. I wouldn’t hurt you. I meant I’d touch you, enflame you, bring us both back to the point of abandonment. Knowing you don’t want that, I thought it’d be enough of a threat.”

“Oh.” she whispered lamely.

“He did that too, didn’t he?” Darius said, his tone teetering between rage and sympathy. “Michael abused you.”

Tess inhaled Darius clean, fresh scent, and accepted his warmth and strength without thought. Still, she couldn’t confess everything. She just couldn’t. “He used to play nasty little games,” she said, admitting only a portion of the truth.

“Games?”

“He’d hide my inhaler. That’s why Jason didn’t think it would do any real harm. He never knew Michael always made sure things didn’t get out of hand. He didn’t want to kill me. At least, not until I attempted to leave him.”

Tess didn’t confide about other abuses: both verbal and physical assaults, humiliation, threats. But Darius suspected, and a barrage of bitter curses escaped hard lips.

“Thank God the bastard’s dead. Otherwise, I’d be forced to kill him myself.” He took half a step away from Tess, yet kept his hands on her shoulders. “As for Jason, I promise he won’t hurt you. I’ll see to it.”

“It’s not necessary. He’s all hot air. He won’t do anything.”

“Didn’t you tell me he went to jail for spousal abuse?”

“Yes, but he’s not a killer,” she insisted.

Darius didn’t know about that. In fact, he didn’t know much about anything anymore. He had set out to decide whether or not he could believe in Tess and found himself wanting to protect her. At the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to erase every doubt. His ex-wife had fabricated an abusive past. She had confided horror stories that made him cringe in empathy. They had all been lies. After awhile he had realized she had been manipulating his feelings to get her way. What if he were falling for the same line of bull? What if Tess was just a great actress? Just because Jason was a bastard didn’t mean Tess was a saint.

Backing away, he studied her unruffled features. At times, she had a way of hiding her emotions that was both enviable and frustrating. Darius wanted to read her expression, and she offered him a blank wall. His gaze traveled downward, looking for body language. All he could see, though, was slender, sensuous curves. She wore linen pants and a matching tunic top. At first glance, she looked like a twelve year old waif. On closer inspection, Darius noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra. If she moved just right he could make out the fullness of her breasts, the suggestion of turgid nipples. The pants were just snug enough to flatter her thighs and calves. Her hair was still slightly damp and hung past her shoulders in a lose French braid while her eyes beckoned with intriguing facets. Tess Montgomery wasn’t any where near twelve years of age, but definitely in the arena of a sexually mature woman.

For an instant, he imagined that he had every right to take her in his arms and sample succulent lips, explore hidden crevices, and feminine curves. Fire rushed along his limbs and centered in his groin. Hot blood pounded through his veins. His limbs weakened. How the hell was he suppose to sort through this mess when he couldn’t keep a lid on his libido?

“You don’t believe me,” she said, apparently sensing his mistrust rather than his passion. “I bare my soul, and you think I made it up, don’t you?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I want to believe you, Tess. It’s just...”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, but he detected anger in her tone, anger and a whole lot of hurt.

He reached for her. “Tess...”

“No!” she bit out. “Don’t touch me. I want you beyond arm’s reach at all times. Got it! Until you’re convinced I’m not a manipulative, conniving, thief, I don’t want you near me.”

Spinning around, she searched for her keys and headed toward the door. “I’m going for groceries.”

“I’m coming,” he said immediately. He knew she had every right to be angry; he also knew pain and fury was a reckless mixture when it came to Tess Montgomery. He didn’t want her out of his sight.

“Oh no you’re not!” she countered. “I need some time alone, okay?”

“Listen, Tess, I--”

“I don’t want to listen,” she shouted.

“What do you want, dear heart?” he returned in his most cajoling tone.

It only seemed to agitate her further. “I want you to go to blazes!”

An instant later, she was out the door, slamming it behind her. Darius heard the roar of the jeep. Rascal jumped up and barked in indignation at being left behind.

Darius stared at the dog. “I think I messed up.”

Rascal barked several more times as if giving him hell.

“Okay, okay, I agree, I’m an insensitive jerk. But, damn it, what if she is lying?”

The dog stared at him as if he had two heads.

“I think I’m falling for her,” he said, no longer talking to the dog, but admitting an inner truth that refused to stay buried. “I’m falling for her, yet I can’t believe in her. How the hell do I solve this one?”

An answer came to Darius as if whispered on the wind. He searched for his cellular, then dialed Cathy’s beeper number. It took a full five minutes for her to return the call. “Yeah, boss, what can I do you out of?”

“Do we have a private detective on retainer?”

“Of course.”

“I want him to do a background check on Tess, Jason, and...” he paused, inhaled, then released. “...and Tommy.”

“Already in the works,” she supplied, a smile in her voice. “I got the gumshoe started yesterday afternoon. That’s why I’m still not at the beach with the boys.”

Darius grinned. “I knew there was a reason I pay you the big bucks.”

“Speaking of which, aren’t I due for a raise?”

Darius laughed. It reminded him that there hadn’t been much laughter over the last few days. In fact, he never saw Tess smile. True, she’d throw him one of those sweet half-baked ones, but nothing real, nothing that came from the heart. That in of itself proved she wasn’t lying. Only someone who had been to hell and back would forget how to smile. Still... Still...

Damn it! Why couldn’t he just believe her? It seemed his ex-wife did a better job than he had ever imagined. But was it really just about Shelly, or about all the broken promises he had witnessed over the years? Growing up, Darius watched his parents and step-parents manipulate and abuse each other. There had been so many lies, so much pain and anger. Cynicism had become a means of survival. As long as he didn’t trust anyone completely, he knew they couldn’t destroy him. He had let his guard down only once, with Shelly. After her betrayal, his barriers became even more formidable. Now, he couldn’t seem to get beyond them. He thought of Tess’ pained expression, her vulnerability, her self-reliance, her daunting bravado. It wouldn’t be hard to fall in love with someone like her. Provided, of course, it wasn’t all an act. Was a weekend really enough time to uncover the truth?

“Cathy,” he said. “Rearrange my appointments until Wednesday.”

“Can do.” He heard her smile. “Seems like the weekend is starting off on the right foot.”

Darius didn’t even bother to answer that one. Instead, he offered a quick good-bye, then said a silent prayer that his inquiries wouldn’t prove the woman of his dreams was nothing more than a fantasy.

* * *

By the time Tess had returned, her anger had dissipated. The hurt remained, but she wasn’t about to let it show. Before entering the bungalow, she lowered two brimming shopping bags to the deck, then took several deep breaths and exhaled slowly. She then picked up the bags, and applied her meditative triggers. Still. Calm. Center yourself. The triggers weren’t working. Although her expression became placid, her heart continued to race. Being alone with Darius wasn’t going to be easy, not all day, not in such close quarters, not in such a romantic setting. Somehow, though, she had to resist him. It would take every ounce of her control, and every bit of remembered anger. She could do this. She was strong. She was--

Her thoughts along with her resolve dwindled to nothing the instant she stepped into the bungalow. An underlying scent of pine disinfectant and lemon oil clung to the air. The kitchen held a linen tablecloth and a vase of wild flowers. Darius appeared from the bathroom, with a buckle and mop. “Perfect timing. I just finished cleaning up.”

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, I’m in big trouble! She already considered him one of the sexiest, most honest, decent men she knew. A man who helped out with domestic chores was more than a rarity. Even her brother, who was thoroughly progressive, would trade off a week worth’s of meal preparation in exchange for a couple hours of cleaning.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, placing both grocery bags on the kitchen table.

“You’ve been gone for over three hours, Tess. I had to do something with my time.”

She pulled out food, putting it away as she went. If she didn’t keep busy, she might do something foolish, like thank him with a hug. He looked too darn good to only hug. His shirt was still open. His hair was ruffled. He looked roughish and handsome and incredibly sexy. Dear God, how would she ever get through the day. “I would never have suspected that a man of your stature--”

“Knew how to wield a toilet brush,” he interrupted.

She glanced at him. Another of her timid smiles appeared. “Well, yes. This is as unexpected as your home.”

“What’s wrong with my home?”

“Nothing. I mean, it’s beautiful. I just--”

“Thought a man of my means would live in Greenville with the upper crust of society.”

“That’s the gist of it,” she confessed.

He tucked the mop and bucket into the closet where he had found them. “I grew up in the city, Tess, no frills, no fuss. And except for my parent’s frequent divorces, I had a fairly happy childhood. Seems neither one of my parents were capable of staying married. But, they were good people, and did their best by me and my siblings. I wanted Luke to have as stable an environment as I could provide. So, I built a home in a decent neighborhood where more families stayed together than broke up. I wanted him to realize commitment wasn’t an impossibility.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in commitment.”

He shrugged. “I believe people fall in love, but I doubt it lasts very long. I’ve seen too many estranged couples, too many divorces. It’s all one big gamble, and most people end up losers.”

“But there are winners as well, you know.”

He walked across the room and placed dairy products in the refrigerator. “Too few.”

She brushed by him, tossing lettuce into the crisper before he shut the door. When she turned, he was there, inches away. An electric current pulsated between them. Tess should have backed up, but something held her. Was it the mesmerizing depths of his eyes? Or the tantalizing span of his mouth. A mouth made for kissing, a mouth made for loving. It was a shame they couldn’t yield to either. “The sharing of one’s heart and life can be beautiful. If the right person came along, I’d be willing to risk the pain again.”

“Then you’re braver than I,” he said, leaning against the refrigerator with arms folded.

Tess couldn’t help noticing the thick corded muscles rippling under hair matted flesh. But it was his hands that mesmerized her: large palms, long square tipped fingers, immaculate nails. They were strong hands. Callous and abrasive, his hands proved he hadn’t always sat behind a desk. His hands were also gentle with enough finesse to turn a woman inside out. The way he had turned her inside out the day before. The way she wanted to be turned inside out again.

“I’m starving,” she blurted, pushing the erotic thoughts aside along with any more intense conversation. “How about some lunch?”

He touched her hair. His fingers trembled. “I’m starving too, Tess. But I don’t hunger for food.”

His words were as volatile as his touch. She leaned toward him. Eyes closed. Breath still. She felt his hands slip under her hair, cradling her face. His lips brush against hers. No, she wanted to say. I told you not to touch me. She said nothing.

Darius hadn’t meant to touch her, but he didn’t know how to stop himself.

Never had a woman bewitched him more. The sun had finally broken through racing gray clouds. Light flooded the kitchen, outlining Tess with its golden glow and making her look more angelic than ever. Or was she really demonic? An erotic nymph sent to snare his soul. Having her in his bed would be worth eternal damnation. He could handle that. He couldn’t handle hurting her anymore than he already had. Regardless of what she did or didn’t do, she believed in love. There would be too many recriminations if they slept together without even the promise of something more.

He backed away, body throbbing, senses raw and scorched. “Lunch sounds good. What did you have in mind?”

Tess didn’t know whether to be relieved or hurt. “I bought some fresh tuna.”

“Sounds good. By the way, what do I owe you for the groceries.”

“Nothing, you’re my guest. Besides, I believe I stuck you with the lunch check and pizza bill yesterday.”

“You didn’t stick me with anything. Plus, this weekend was my idea. I insist on covering expenses.”

“You cook and I’ll consider it squared. The only thing I hate more than cooking is...” She tilted her head, emerald eyes alight with a teasing twinkle. “...wielding a toilet brush.”

“I don’t mind cooking. But don’t get used to the cleaning. I usually hire someone for that.”

“And here I thought you were perfect.”

“Everyone has their flaws, Tess. Alas, domestic chores hold little appeal. I do them only when necessary.”

“Me too,” she admitted. “But I make a decent salad. I also know how to uncork wine.”

“I thought this town was dry.”

She shrugged. “It’s imported from Somers Point.”

“I think we should stick to iced tea. I don’t think either of us need any more stimulation.”

She tilted her chin indignantly. “I am in total control.”

“Prove it,” he challenged

Uncertainty replaced indignation, yet her tone resonated with resolve. “No problem.”

She went to him, slipped her fingers into his hair, and pulled his head down. She kissed him, mouth closed, body tense. She battled against the heat emanating from him, against her own insatiable need of him. But the instant she lifted her gaze to his, her tenacity crumbled. The fiery depths of his eyes captivated her. His passion overwhelmed her, and this time she gave into the kiss. Her lips parted as she fastened her mouth to his. Her tongue slipped into his inner recesses. The kiss became desperate. Hot. Hard. Demanding. He returned an equal measure again and again until the world narrowed to two pairs of lips, dueling tongues, and insatiable heat. Suddenly, they both broke apart, stunned by the potency of their mutual need. At the same time, they were determined to stick to some semblance of rationality.

“Iced tea is a much better choice,” she conceded.

He grinned. “I’ll refrain from saying I told you so.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Hey, I’m not the only one who doesn’t have much control.”

The grin faded. “Ah, dear heart, I know damn well how little restrain I have when it comes to you. I just want you to be aware of it. If we keep at it, one of these times we won’t be able to stop.”

“Would that be so bad?”

He lifted a brow. “You’re the one who set the rules. If you can sleep with me without guilt, without regret no matter what the future holds, then I’ll take you six ways from Sunday from now till dawn.”

Just the thought of what he had suggested nearly destroyed her resolve. Images of entwined bodies, steaming flesh, and ultimate gratification flashed through her mind. Then she remembered his mistrust. She remembered Michael having his way, then acting as if she didn’t even exist. If Darius did that, she’d die, not literally, but that inner core of strength that had seen her through so much would shatter. There would be nothing left, but an empty shell, existing rather than living. For her own peace of mind, she couldn’t give into her passion.

“You’re right. I lost my head. It won’t happen again.” She turned back to the refrigerator. “I’ll get started on that salad.”

He stopped her by placing a hand on a slender shoulder. “You look a little beat. Why don’t you put your feet up. I’ll call you when lunch is ready.”

She stiffened. “I’m not a hot house flower who can’t handle a little stress. Look I’m even breathing. So back off,” she spurted, then gathered up the components for a salad while Darius snared his own ingredients for the tuna.

“You’re such a damnable wench. I wasn’t implying you were a hot house flower. I was just being considerate. You’ve been through a lot the last couple of days. I’d be an insensitive jerk not to notice how much it has taken out of you.”

She stared at a tomato. Color flooded her cheeks. “You’re right. I... I’m just a little defensive, I guess.”

He placed the tuna in a baking dish, added butter, fresh garlic, parsley and lemon slices, then slid it into the oven. “If this is just a little, I’m in real trouble if you go all out.”

She offered him one of her mini smiles: a slight spreading of lips, a suggestion of dimples.

“I do go off, don’t I?”

“I’d rather face a lioness protecting her cubs.”

She started shredding lettuce. “Com’on, I’m not that bad.”

“Does the word paranoid mean anything to you.”

“I am not paranoid.”

A teasing note entered his tone. “Round the bend, everyone’s-out-to-get-you, paranoid.”

Hands on hips, she stamped her foot. “That’s the most ridiculous nonsense I’ve ever heard.”

After preparing a pitcher of iced tea, he placed it on the table. “Have I also mentioned you have absolutely no sense of humor.”

“You don’t know me well enough to criticize.”

“I wasn’t criticizing. I was stating a fact.”

It was indeed a fact, and Tess hated that he thought that of her. She didn’t know whether to be furious or hurt. Then she caught the taunting tilt of his lips, the comical glint in his eyes.

“You’re teasing me!”

He grinned. “Someone had to lighten the mood.”

“But... But you weren’t funny.”

His shoulders heaved upward. “Hey, I never said I was a comedian. My God, Tess. I wouldn’t recognize humor if it bit me on the nose, but at least I smile once in a while. You are so damn somber you make me look like Bozo the clown.”

“Somber?”

“Night of the zombie, somber.”

“Really.”

“You’d depress a funeral director.”

“That’s enough.”

“Forget the director, a person would get more laughs out of a corpse.”

Unable to combat his teasing with witticisms of her own, Tess decided another form of retaliation was in order. She plucked the pitcher off the table and moved toward Darius.

“You want some humor, huh? Will slapstick do?”

Darius’ smile faded. “What are you doing?”

“Paranoid, huh?”

He held out his hands as if to ward her off. “Com’on, Tess. Let’s not get carried away.”

“Zombie, huh?”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned in a scolding tone.

She was only inches away. “I bet even a funeral director would find this comical.”

Before Darius could utter another protest, she tossed half the pitcher’s contents into his face. The tea slid over his stunned expression onto a hundred-dollar shirt and an exposed chest.

Realizing what she had done, Tess felt instant contrition. She put the pitcher down, reached for a napkin, and started to blot ineffectively at the damage. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just don’t know what came over me. I--”

Catching her wrist, Darius stilled her hand. His grin matched the glint in his eyes. “Did you ever hear the expression, don’t get mad, get even?”

Tess glanced at the pitcher, then at his taunting expression. “Oh no,” she muttered.

Noting the direction of her gaze, he laughed gently. “Don’t worry that’s not the type of retaliation I had in mind.”

He pulled her against him, ran a hand down the length of her back, stopped at the base of her spine, then tightened his hold. His other hand cupped the back of her head as if positioning her for a kiss. An inner voice ordered Tess to break out of his hold. She couldn’t allow herself to respond to his advances. But her inner voice was no match for insistent passion. She remained very still, a rag doll, willing to be manipulated, anxious to submit.

Closing her eyes, she ignored reasons and surrendered to his strength. Only, instead of the impact of his lips on hers, she felt fluttering fingers against the side of her neck. Her eyes sprang open even as she giggled like a five year old. “Stop that!” she ordered, slapping his hand.

“Not until I’ve had my revenge,” he issued with mock severity. “Prepare to pay, wrench.”

Before she knew how it had happened, Darius zeroed in on a multitude of tickle spots and proceeded to torment her. Her laughter erupted in great peals.

Darius never saw a more beautiful sight. Laughter bubbled out of her like champagne, effervescent and just as heady. She never looked younger, or more insouciant. Her dimples were everything they had promised to be. Her teeth were snow white with just a smidgen of a sensuous overbite. Their was something about her laughter that snared him. He saw who she could have been without the turmoil of her past, who she could become if the right man offered his support and love. His insights didn’t shock him; he had suspected as much. There was only one thing that shocked Darius. It was the realization that, somehow, over the last few days, he had managed to fall in love.

CHAPTER TEN

Darius’ jovial mood vanished as if it had never been. He stared at her, his expression intense and mystified.

Her smile faded. Silence replaced laughter as her eyes became wide pools of apprehension. “Have I done something?”

Her words seemed to break through his hypnotic state. He stepped away, running fingers through rumpled hair. “No. I just need to check on the tuna.”

“Tuna?”

“For lunch.”

“I see.”

“Know you don’t.”

“Then tell me.”

“Can’t.”

“Are you sure I didn’t do anything wrong?”

He touched her hair with a trembled hand. “Nothing.”

“I’ll make fresh tea,” she said, paused, then started again. “You should change. I’ll reimburse you for the shirt.”

He watched shutters snap over her emotions, and knew whatever headway he had made with this woman had just dissipated. It was for the best. Until he trusted her, he couldn’t allow her to know how he felt. Dear God, how did he allow this to happen? The why or how of it didn’t really matter. Darius’ only concern was making sure it didn’t go any further. “I don’t give a damn about the shirt,” he snapped.

Her wince jolted him. She didn’t deserve his attitude. Damn it! Why did he keep hurting her? Because you love her and you’re terrified she’ll never love you back, that even if she does, it will be fleeting. His family had never been lucky at love. Why should he be any different?

Darius started toward the oven, paused before opening the door. “Tess.”

“Yes,” she prompted at his sudden pause.

“You’re really beautiful when you laugh. You should laugh more.”

“Maybe once this is over I’ll find something to laugh about,” she retorted, taking her turn at being sarcastic.

He tuned toward her. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” she snapped. “Show emotion. One minute you’re gentle and teasing. The next instant you act as if you detest me.”

“I don’t detest you.”

She stared at the floor. “Oh yes, that’s right, you just don’t trust me.”

“I have valid reasons.”

“Perhaps, from your point of view they are valid. All I can see is a man who’s going to look pretty foolish once the truth comes out.”

He moved toward her and placed his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I hope that happens. I hope I do end up feeling like a fool. That would mean you’re as honest as my gut tells me your are.”

She stepped away. He was too close. She could feel his sincerity along with waves of passionate heat. She wanted to give into that heat. It was impossible. “You act as if you’re on my side.”

“I’m on the side of truth.”

What was it about him that made her believe everything he said. She wished he was as callous as his reputation suggested. Then, it would be easier to fight him. Now, she just wanted to fall into his arms.

“Well, at least, we both agree on that.” Noting the canister of tea mix still on the counter, Tess headed toward it. “You better put that shirt in cold water, or the tea stain will never come out.”

Darius looked like he wanted to say more. He shook his head and turned away.

“Darius,” she said, watching him crack open the oven.

He paused. “Yes?”

“I don’t hate you either.”

“It’s a start,” he returned.

Hearing the smile in his voice, she knew that they were way past starting anything. They were already in neck deep.

* * *

Tess was impressed with Darius’ cooking skills. He had broiled the fish to perfection and created a white herb sauce to go with it. Tossed salad, and French bread accompanied the meal while cream laced strawberries completed it. After clearing away the dishes, they retired to the living room with glass mugs of iced coffee.

Snuggled on a fan backed wicker chair, Tess tucked her feet up under her and lifted her face to the ceiling fan. Although a cool ocean breeze invaded the room, she felt incredibly warm. It was an inner heat, fanned by erotic tension. Throughout the meal, her mind continually played out sensuous fantasies. She imagined Darius’ hands molding her body, his lips sampling her flesh.

She already knew he’d be a gentle lover, prone to put her needs above his own. But how did she go about pleasing him? Despite having been married, she didn’t have a lot of experience. Michael found passivity stimulating, especially in the beginning when she was slightly terrified and completely ignorant. Most of the time, he’d take her without foreplay or consideration. At first, when she still loved him, she gave herself willingly, seeking whatever joy the closeness provided. Later, when she understood Michael’s heart and realized she wasn’t part of it, she’d simply shut down. That was fine by Michael. He only wanted a receptacle for his lust anyway.

Darius had already proven making love to him would be spectacular. But she didn’t want to indulge in something that would only lead to heartache. She stared across the room at Darius. He stood with his back to her, gazing out the window toward the ocean. The sky had finally cleared, and bold light filtered through the window and outlined Darius’ well-defined body.

Unable to stop herself, she placed her mug down, then went up behind him, stopping a foot away lest she run her hands over the wide expanse of muscular shoulders, lest she press herself against his taut back and melt under his emanating heat. “It’s turning into a beautiful day,” she said.

“Like you.”

The words were spoken so softly, she wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. But they were words she wouldn’t mind hearing. No one had ever called her beautiful. Darius, though, made her feel that way. He made her feel beautiful and sexy and wondrous. What would have happened if Jason hadn’t discredited her? Would Darius still be here with her, perhaps making love instead of trying to avoid intimacy?

“Would you like to go for a walk?” she asked, knowing she needed more space between them than the tiny bungalow provided.

“Sounds good.”

With Rascal on their heels, they left the bungalow and made their way to the ocean’s edge. Chilled water curled around bare feet. People planted umbrellas along the narrow stretch of beach, teenagers listened to boom boxes or frolicked in the surf, children built sand castles or collected shells. An amorous couple walked passed them, whispering and giggling, touching and kissing. Tess couldn’t help an envious glance. She wanted to take Darius’ hand. No, not just his hand, she wanted more. She wanted things she shouldn’t even contemplate. And not all of it had to do with longing and desire. She wanted an emotional bond. She wanted... No! She wouldn’t go there. If she acknowledged what she really felt for this man, she’d become a weak, timid creature that would fall apart the instant he said another cross word. Turning from him, she picked up a stick and threw it into the water. Rascal retrieved it, then barked until she played the game again.

Darius watched the dog for awhile, then turned his attention to Tess. Afternoon lights played about Tess’ delicate features. Her body moved with grace and precision. It amazed him that such an enchanting creature didn’t have men knocking down her door. Perhaps she did. Perhaps he was just the last in a long line of conquests. Perhaps she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. Being in love clouded a man’s instincts, and Darius had a horrible suspicion that he had loved her from day one. That meant, everything he had previously concluded was now suspect.

She glanced at him just then. Bewilderment stamped her feature, bewilderment and traces of desire. His own passion slammed into him, hot, furious. Stuffing fists into pant pockets, he spun away. “I’m going back,” he said, his voice sharp and angry.

Tess watched him, more confused than ever. “What did I do?” she said softly. “What the heck did I do?”

* * *

That evening they stopped at a local diner. Tess opted for a chocolate fudge Sunday rather than a meal. Darius had a vegetarian sub, and milk.

“You might be thin, Tess. But you really don’t eat very healthy.”

“I ate healthy my whole life. I was allergic to so many things, that I had to be careful of processed foods, additives, sweeteners, chocolate, acidity, etc. That eliminated nearly everything. But, I’ve outgrown those allergies. Now, I eat what I want, when I want, and the heck with diet.”

He grinned. “A real rebel, huh?”

She scooped up a spoonful of chocolate ice cream. “I’m glad it’s back.”

“What?”

“Your smile. I missed it.”

He shook his head. “You should be furious at me. I’ve been moody since lunch.”

“As long as I’m not the cause, you’re entitled to your moods.”

He reached out with his thumb and wiped a smudge of syrup off her chin. “Any other woman would have been screaming at me, demanding answers.”

She shrugged. “All the screaming in the world won’t make you tell me anything you don’t want me to know. In fact, it’ll do just the opposite. You’ll resent me, and clam up even more. If you want to share something, I’ll listen. If not, well, I’m not the type to give people the fifth degree.”

“Are you for real?”

“Actually, I’m not real at all.” She paused, smiled softly, then scooped ice cream into her mouth and muttered, “I’m sugar and spice and everything chocolate.”

Her humor always came at unexpected times, but he loved it. Just as he loved her. The rest of the night passed in harmless banter and gentle teasing. Somehow a truce had emerged, and neither wanted to test their boundaries.

* * *

The next morning, Darius crawled out of bed, shocked that he had managed to sleep after all. They had spent half the night talking about nothing in particular. Darius had never felt more comfortable with anyone. He also had never been more aroused. He actually feigned fatigue not because he wanted to go to bed, but because he was having the damnedest time keeping his hands and lips to himself.

Still aroused, Darius decided a cold shower was in order. He made his way to the bathroom, noting that Tess’ bedroom door was closed. He wondered if she had bolted it. She probably should have. He was one damn horny beast.

As the chilling spray slipped over his body, Darius pondered his dilemma. It kept hitting him anew that he loved this woman. And the more the realization took hold, the more incredible it seemed. He didn’t know what to do about this newfound love. Admitting it was out of the question. Ignoring it was impossible. Accepting it was ludicrous. There simply wasn’t a future in loving someone, especially not someone he couldn’t trust. Besides, considering how he had been treating her, he’d be lucky if she ever felt anything more than loathing toward him.

After drying off, and donning khaki shorts, he left the bathroom. Tess’ door was now open. The Spartan room displayed a made up bed, a shelf of stuffed Disney animals, and wicker furnishings. Tess was no where around, but for the first time the cats greeted him, alternately meowing and rubbing themselves against his bare ankles. He caressed them under their chins, enjoying the rich feel of their coats. “Hey, where’s Tess?”

As if in answer, Rascal barked from the deck. Following the sound, he made his way outside. In the morning light, he spotted Tess near the water’s edge, performing a series of intricate Tae Kwon Do patterns. As she moved an oversized T-shirt rose up her thighs and displayed a teal bikini bottom. He saw tantalizing flashes of a tight naval, expanses of white skin. He remembered the feel of her, the fullness of her breasts, the silkiness of her womanhood. Desire flared to life once more. He clutched the deck rail and swallowed hard. It was going to be one very long day.

Tess halted in the middle of a pattern and spun around. She caught Darius’ intense gaze. As always, his look ignited something hot and fiery within her, but there was something more this time: an emotion that had been simmering in the back of her mind since the day she had set eyes on him. An emotion that had sent her scurrying out the door with only an hour’s sleep. An emotion she couldn’t eradicate even with the intense concentration of her Tae Kwon Do routine: drills and patterns. She did them over and over until her legs felt rubbery, until sweat poured over her like rain, until she caught Darius staring at her just now. For an instant, she stared back, taking in his sun darkened flesh exposed above and below a pair of khaki shorts, his sleep tousled hair, his dark, piercing eyes. She turned toward the water and dropped to the sand, wishing she could be as apathetic as her shadow.

“That was some work out,” Darius said moments later, having sprinted over the sand the instant she had hit the ground. “Are you all right?”

Pulling her knees to her chest, she rested her chin on top and stared at the ocean. She didn’t want to look at Darius. Up close, his chest appeared broader, his waist thinner. And all that rambunctious body hair was enough to make a woman swoon. She didn’t bother to answer him. She wasn’t fine. She was tired and thirsty and so incredibly aroused she could barely focus.

“You should get some fluids into you. It’s hot out here,” he went on when she didn’t respond. “Your skin’s turning pink. Did you use any sun screen?”

She continued to stare, unblinking, her posture as still and calm as a breezeless day.

He lowered himself next to her. “Hey, I thought we’ve worked past this. We got along so well last night.”

“This isn’t working,” she said. “I can’t stay here with you until tomorrow. I want to leave now.”

“I thought we had an agreement.”

“The agreement didn’t include sleeping together.”

“Why must I keep reminding you that we haven’t slept together?”

“We will. I can’t stop thinking about...about what it would be like.” She glanced at him, caught the passionate intensity of his stare. “You can’t either.”

“We’ll control ourselves.”

She turned back to the ocean. “Will we? Can you give me a guarantee?”

This time, Darius failed to respond.

“Didn’t think so,” she said, feeling his heat across the few inches that separated them. She forced herself to take in deep, steady breaths. In, out, she told herself. Calm. Think of still water. Despite her words, her insides churned with the same relentless intensity as the ocean before her. “I was thinking about our problem. We can simplify this entire situation by just going our separate ways. You market your product, and I’ll market my own. We don’t deal with the same trade. Therefore, we won’t have any conflicts of interest. Plus, considering we both managed to patent the doll as two separate products, we won’t have to worry about patent infringement. We could pretend I never showed up in your office and simply get on with our lives. If I could have foreseen the consequences, I never would have approached you in the first place.”

“But you did approach me. Holly and Baby Alive might be slightly different, perhaps even unique enough to get past the patent laws, but we both know it’s the same product. Plus, Holly won’t sell well in museum and gift shops. Mass market is the only way to go.”

“I have orders.”

“Not many, I’m sure.”

“Enough to keep me afloat. I’m not like you, Darius. I don’t want to be a millionaire. I just enjoy the act of creating toys. I like watching a child’s eyes light up. It might not be ambitious, but I don’t need a lot of money to make me happy. I have everything I need.”

“I don’t believe that.”

She felt his gaze move over her. It was as intimate as a caress, reminding her there were many things she needed, things like a husband and children, a home filled with loved. Her hopes and dreams would sound foolish to him. Darn him, anyway. She had thought she had her life figured out, that even if she didn’t find a companion she’d manage. Now, the years looked awful long, and her life seemed pathetic and empty.

“You’re right, D’Angelo, there is something I need.” She sprang upright in one fluid motion. “I need to get away from you.”

Her disdain cut through him with the precision of a machete.

He was instantly on his feet, catching her wrist before she could flee. “We’re seeing this weekend out, Tess. We’re also tacking on a few days. Luke’s with Cathy, Tim, and John until Wednesday. See to it that your affairs are taken care of until then.”

“I’m not one of your flunkies, D’Angelo, you can’t order me around. I’m leaving, and if you want a ride home, I suggest you get yourself packed.” Knowing he had more skill at Tae Kwon Do than she, Tess didn’t attempt to break free of his hold. She refused to admit that he imprisoned her in other ways, as well, but her trembling tone betrayed the extent of how he affected her. “Let me go!”

“Like hell! Don’t forget, you’re the one who started this, but damn it to hell, I’m the one who’s going to finish it.”

“Then finish it now. Go on, take me to court. We’ll both be losers.”

“So will your employees. I can cut Baby Alive from my line and take a financial bath, but it won’t destroy my company. I won’t have to lay off a single employee. Can you say the same?”

He saw the defeat in her eyes and knew his gamble had paid off. Tess Montgomery could have been the type who didn’t give a damn about her employees. Somehow, he knew she wasn’t.

“Stay with me until Wednesday, and I’ll agree to your terms. In fact, I’ll do you one better. If you don’t want to deal with the trade, I’ll buy your design plus any inventory at a profit and market Holly as the next generation to Baby Alive. I’ll even give you royalties on future sales.”

“You would do this even though you still believe that Tommy might be telling the truth?”

“What if he is? What the hell am I going to do about it? Tie us both up in court for the next ten years while either Tubular, Mattel, or Hasboro produce a similar product.”

“If you feel that way, then why must we stay? We can settle matters back home.”

Darius refused to let her see the truth. He no longer gave a damn about the doll, but he had to know whether or not the two of them stood a chance. Despite all his cynicism, a small part of him believed lasting love was possible. Perhaps it was that foolish part that had long ago proposed to Shelly, but he knew if he didn’t see this through he’d regret it for the rest of his life. “I have my reasons,” he stated.

She stared for a moment. “What if I don’t agree to stay?”

“I can break you, Tess. Don’t force me to do that.”

“You can break my company, but don’t confuse my assets with me personally. I don’t break. I’ve already been through the fire. I’m a lot stronger than you think.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Bottom line, Tess. Do you want a fight, or do you want a solution?”

Tess wasn’t a fighter, never had been. All her bluster and bravado was nothing more than an act. “I’ll stay,” she said after a lengthy pause.

Darius knew her decision took more courage than an act of defiance would have. He was beginning to believe she was one of the most incredible women he had ever met.

“One more thing, Tess,” he said, still not releasing her. “You’re right about the chemistry between us. It’s phenomenal. But I can guarantee I won’t let anything happen that you don’t want to happen. You have my word.”

With a perversity that went entirely against her nature, Tess tossed her head back defiantly and reiterated Darius’ challenge from the day before. “Prove it.”

He hesitated an endless second, then abruptly pulled her along after him, stopping only when they reached the underside of the deck. Secluded behind the dunes, no one could see them from the beach. Wild thistle edging the rim of the house added an extra measure of privacy. They were alone with only shafts of sunlight spilling through the deck boards and the musical hum of the ocean. Even Rascal had seen fit to stay away. Perhaps, this was too secure, for he didn’t want things to get out of control. He just wanted her too realize that he could control the situation if he wished, and he couldn’t do what needed to be done out in the open.

Before Tess could utter a protest, he propped her against a pillar and ravished her mouth without mercy. His tongue invaded every serration, every crevice, stroking the velvety texture of her cheek and the petal-like softness of her tongue. The kiss was so intoxicating, so intense, the world spun away from Tess in a kaleidoscope of sensation. The challenge had been a perverse taunt aimed at proving he was as vulnerable as she. Tess had foolishly thought, that this one time, she could master her body and control the situation. She had been wrong.

A still sane part of her demanded she put an end to this dangerous game, but then his hand closed around one breast and Tess drifted into an inferno of need. His other hand grabbed hers, and brought it to his throbbing passion. It was incredibly hard and large, yet it swelled even more under her touch. Only now did she realize just how much he had been holding back the other day. He had given her pleasure without claiming anything for himself. Now, he held back nothing. Had the challenge been too much? Was there any way she could stop this madness? Did she even want to try?

The questions evaporated as she heard him groan, as she felt him tremble. It was too late, he was past the point of reason. And God help her, it was what she wanted. She wouldn’t have time to contemplate the consequences. She wouldn’t have time to regret.

Darius had wanted to prove to Tess that she had nothing to fear from him. He had forgotten that he had been without a woman for far too long. And Tess tasted like summer, felt like heaven. And her touch, dear sweet God, her touch had enflamed him beyond endurance. Both hands massaged her flesh, touched her breasts, her buttock. His lips moved over her jaw, then down her throat, pausing to mark the sensitized arch of her throat. He became wild, frantic. For an insane moment, he couldn’t think beyond his need. He loved Tess, he wanted her, and he didn’t give a damn about the aftermath.

Somehow, though, the insanity didn’t last. It came to him that if he took her now, she’d feel used. He couldn’t do that to her. His love for her was stronger than his lust. The sensation unnerved him. He had never loved another woman with such intensity. With a wild jerk, he pulled himself away.

Tess nearly lost her balance and grabbed the piling for support. “Darius?” she said in a stunned tone.

Darius stumbled backwards, then crumbled. His knees hit the ground. He placed palms on thighs and inhaled shapely. His manhood threatened to explode. Passion had become a living entity, torching his body, and for a full minute he couldn’t speak.

“Darius...” she whispered again, confusion welling in her eyes.

He found his voice and was stunned by its raspy quality. “There’s your guarantee, Tess. I want you. I’ve never wanted a woman more, but I won’t let anything happen that you don’t want.”

She slipped to the sand. Her voice came out husky. Passion shadowed her gaze. “Oh Darius, I do want.”

Darius groaned as a sweet agony filled him, the agony of unquenchable desire. “Oh God... Oh God... don’t say things like that. I gave you my word, Tess. I won’t take you, not unless you release me from my word, not unless you can let me make love to you without regret, without guilt.”

The nobility of his sacrifice reached into her and bared the emotion she had tried so earnestly to suppressed. It swelled to the forefront of her mind, filled her heart, gushed through her body. She wanted him more than ever, but with the acknowledgment of her feelings came unexpected strength.

She went to him, knelt before him and pushed him into the sand. He stared up at her. “What...”

“Shh,” she murmured. “It’s okay.”

She kissed him again. Her lips meeting his hesitantly, softly, then they moved over his neck and shoulders. Trembling hands trailed over his chest, fingers brushing his nipples with feathery caressed. A mixture of salty air and Tess’ natural sweet scent enveloped his senses, further flaming the embers of his desire.

He gripped her shoulders. His words came out in a breathless sputter. “Tess... no... I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Shhh,” she whispered once more as she nudged his zipper downward and pushed his shorts over his legs. If she was shocked at his lack of underwear, she didn’t show it. She simply caressed the rigid display of manhood, stroking with a perverse blend of hesitation and determination.

Darius sucked in air. Searing passion ripped through him, yet he didn’t move. He couldn’t. The need to stop her warred with the urgency to take her. He didn’t know which of the conflicting emotions would have won out for Tess had taken control. Her mouth captured his, her kiss as turbulent and aggressive as his had been. At the same time, her hand continued it’s deliberate assault.

In the distance, sea gulls cried against the summer sky. The ocean crashed against sand. A life guard’s whistle echoed through the air. Darius heard nothing but the pounding of his own blood, felt nothing but the pressure of her hand. She took him to heights he had never reached, then pressed further until he plunged into an intoxicating abyss of release. He arched his hips, shuddering over and over until his seed spilled over her hand.

He laid there for several minutes, stunned by her gift, ashamed at his lack of control. She had barely touched him and he had exploded. He was worse than an adolescent in the first throes of passion. Finally, he lifted himself on his elbows, head cocked. “Tess, I--”

She stared at the sand. “There’s no need to comment. It’s like you said yesterday, it’s just as gratifying for a woman to satisfy a man. You let me have control, Darius. I never had that with a man before.”

“Surely your husband--”

“Always had to be in control... always.”

He struggled into his shorts. “But what about other men. I can tell you don’t have a lot of experience, but you’re thirty-one years old. I’m sure there has been other men.” His brow furrowed. “Unless, of course, that’s just an--” he broke off, ashamed by what he had been about to say.

He watched Tess’ shoulders slump. She bent her head, hair tumbled downward, concealing her features. “Unless it was an act. Is that what you were about to say?”

“Forget it? I--”

She flipped her head back, met his gaze. Her own eyes blazed with both hurt and anger.

“I wouldn’t know how to fake it, D’Angelo. Michael had been the only man in my life. And if you don’t believe me. Well, then, that’s just too darn bad!”

She got to her feet and started away. He caught up to her before she could escape the shelter of the dunes. Grabbing her shoulder, he spun her around to face him. “It’s hard for me to trust, Tess. But I’m trying. Please, please bear with me.”

She leaned toward him. She couldn’t help it. He seemed so defenseless. “Did she hurt you that badly? Your wife, I mean.”

Both hands landed on her shoulders. Their foreheads nearly touched. “It’s not just about her. My God, Tess, I watched every one in my family go through several divorces. I’ve seen love turn to hate so many times, I sometimes wonders if love is an illusion.”

“Love is for real, Darius. You have to believe that.”

“But it’s a fickle beast.”

“Not when it’s true love.”

“How can you say that when your love for Michael had turned to fear?”

“Michael provoked that fear. Besides, I now realize my love for Michael hadn’t been that strong. It wasn’t true love.”

He cocked his head. “Give me a break. True love? What the hell is that, gibberish from a fairy tale.”

“It’s not gibberish. I’ve seen it with my parents, with friends. It exists.”

“But you haven’t experienced it,” he countered with the tone of someone who had just proven his point.

“Oh yes I have.”

He cocked a well-shaped brow. “I thought you had said Michael had been your only lover.”

“He was. I’m talking about love not sex.”

“So you loved this man, but you didn’t have sex.”

“I love him, present tense,” she blurted. “I love him with all my heart.”

Darius didn’t know what emotion was more powerful: rage or pain. She loved someone else, yet she had nearly given herself to him. What kind of woman was she? He unconsciously tightened his grip. His voice deepened with fury. “Who is he?” Darius demanded.

Unwilling to spell out what she felt was so obvious, she didn’t speak. She didn’t even blink.

He shook her. “Damn it, tell me!”

His anger dislodge the words that just an hour before she wouldn’t even acknowledge to herself. “You,” she confessed on a melodious thread. “I love you.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It took several moments for the words to register. Tess’ love was a gift he had never thought to realize. It filled him with hope and elation. Simultaneously, doubt planted itself in his gut. How could he be sure it was the truth?

“Tess, I--”

She shook her head. Her lower lip quivered. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Turning, she moved from the shadows, her steps slow, weary. “I’m going for a swim.”

“Tess--”

She spun back. A single tear shimmied down a sun-touched cheek. “I’ve humiliated myself enough for one day. Be merciful and leave me alone.”

He wanted to kiss the tear away. He wanted to tell her he felt the same. Only his barriers remained firmly in place. “Don’t swim out too far out. Promise me.”

With a nod, she disappeared from view.

* * *

Even after a two hour swim, Tess didn’t return to the bungalow. From the window, Darius watched her build a sand castle with a group of children. He had never seen her so at ease. Nor had he ever seen such an angelic smile. He wished she were as at ease with him as she was with the children. He wished he could love and trust her without reservation. Mostly, he wished to hell he hadn’t made such a mess of everything.

In attempt to mend the breech between them, Darius started toward the door. The distinctive peal of the cellular stopped him.

“D’Angelo,” he said, after dashing up to the loft where he had left the phone.

“It’s Cathy.” Her voice sounded thick, a bit angry, definitely troubled.

“How’s Luke?” he asked.

“Swimming, talking to girls, you know. But this isn’t about Luke. I have something for you from the detective.”

Darius scurried down to the first floor. He needed room to pace. “Go on.”

Cathy’s tone became stiff as she read off a report that confirmed everything Tess had revealed, and quite a bit more. He had known about the allergies and suspected that she had been fiercely over-protected, but he hadn’t known that Michael had put Tess in an emergency ward with contusions, fractures, and bruises, not once but several times.

“I guess beating her to a pulp hadn’t been enough,” Cathy went on, her voice reflecting Darius own odd mixture of sympathy and fury. “He pushed her down a flight of stairs when she was seven months pregnant, and left her there unconscious. If a friend of hers, a Pete Marstan, hadn’t shown up, she would have died. He was too late to save the baby.”

Darius cursed viciously. “Dying was too good for Michael Phillips.”

“Speaking of dying. Jason actually introduced Michael to Tess days after her parents’ funeral. Talk about taking advantage of her emotional state,” Cathy said. “Her brother always traveled, and except for a close circle of friends, Tess was alone and ripe for a con job.”

“Damn them both,” Darius muttered. “I know about Jason’s spousal abuse acquittal. Do you haven anything else on him or anything at all on Tommy?”

“Nothing more on Jason, and even less on Tommy.”

“Tell the detective to keep looking.”

“Gotcha.” There was a slight pause, then, “How’s it going between the two of you?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Want some advice, DJ?”

“No.”

“Too bad,” Cathy shot back. “Let down those damn barriers and just trust her. She’s been through enough hell.”

“I know.” He raked fingers through tousled hair, a strand fell into one eye. “So far she hasn’t lied to me. Unless... Unless this is all about revenge on her part. What if she’s just out to ruin Jason? Hell, she’s half way there. I already fired him.”

“He deserved to be fired.”

“Regardless--” he broke off at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Talk to you later.”

Tossing the phone on the couch, he faced the door as Tess entered. “Feel better?”

She nodded. “Um... I was thinking... um... perhaps you would like to go for a bike ride. There’s a rental place about a block from here.”

He didn’t answer at first. Too many emotions clamored for attention. There was still a good deal of fury at what Michael Phillips had done to her along with a generous portion of guilt for the pain he had caused. There was also the persistent passion, a throbbing ache that refused to relinquish its hold. It was no use, he was in love with a woman he couldn’t bring himself to trust, and he didn’t know what the hell to do about it. “I’ll pack a light lunch.”

* * *

After an hour of navigating the resort’s sun-baked streets, they stopped at a park. There, in a deserted gazebo, they placed a red-checked cloth on the wooden floor and spread out their fare of Brie, strawberries, sesame rolls, and wine.

As they ate, they discussed the cloudless day, and the perfect temperature, the arctic chill that had claimed the ocean water because of the storm, the sun screen that Tess applied even in the shade. When there weren’t any more safe topics to pursue, Darius held up a bottle of Chianti. “More?” he asked.

Tess offered her glass, knowing she shouldn’t push her limit, yet needing to fortify herself against the persistent throb of mortification. It was bad enough she vocalized her feelings, but now she couldn’t stop gawking at him like an infatuated sixteen year old. In Khaki shorts, faded T-shirt, and a day’s worth of beard, he looked even more like a pirate than ever before. But it wasn’t just his looks that enthralled her. There was a kindness about Darius, a basic inner caring that assured her of his sincerity. But could she sleep with him, knowing there might never be more than the moment?

“Earth to Tess,” he said.

She blinked, realizing she still held out her glass even though he had already filled it. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

“Care to share your thoughts?”

She sipped the wine, relishing it’s rich favor. “I would if I could make sense out of anything.”

“There’s nothing complicated about the situation, Tess. We’ve already made some decisions even if things don’t work out.”

“That’s business, Darius. There’s still the question of... of...”

“Your love?”

Her sun-reddened cheeks deepened to crimson. “I was going to say our mutual attraction.”

His grin taunted. “Attraction can be sated in many ways, Tess. Let me know if and when you’re ready.” He refilled his own wine glass and drank half of it before speaking again. “As for the other, you don’t love me, you know. You only think you do. Love’s an illusion. I know, I’ve fallen victim to that particular illusion quite a bit myself. The trick is to recognize the emotion for what it is, and know it’ll eventually go away.”

“It’s--” Sighing, she broke off. “Considering you probably don’t believe me anyway, I don’t intend to argue the point.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He still didn’t know what to believe.

“What did she do to you, Darius?”

“Who?”

“You know who,” she rebutted. “Whether you believe me or not, I’ve been totally up front with you. It’s your turn.”

“If you were so up front, why didn’t tell me how many times Michael had put you in the hospital?”

She wasn’t surprised that he had checked out her story, but she didn’t expect it to embarrass her so thoroughly. “Because I’m not proud of the fact that I had allowed Michael to abuse me. I don’t have any excuses except that I used to be an incredible coward.”

He rubbed his neck with weary agitation. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But to set the record straight, you’re not a coward, never were. No one could have survived what you’ve been through and not be both strong and brave. You’re a remarkable woman. Never forget Michael Phillips wronged you, not the other way around.”

“You believe that, truly?” she returned softly.

“That, and...” Darius reached across the checked tablecloth and cupped her face with one hand. “...and I’m trying to believe a whole lot more.”

She treated him to a through inspection. “She did this to you, didn’t she? It’s not just because of all the divorces in your family. You grew up with divorce, yet married anyway.”

Darius pulled away, absorbed another glass of wine, then corked the bottle before he drowned in the damn stuff. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Tess didn’t answer, only stared, her eyes wide and questioning.

“Okay, fine, it’s not a big deal anyway. She slept around. I mean with any man who was willing. I guess I should be grateful it had happened before all those nasty diseases started circulating. I might have been conscious about protection, but she wasn’t. There you have it. Not pretty, but not complicated either.”

“There’s more,” she stated, her stare even more intense. “Tell me.”

Darius stood, began to pace. “There’s nothing...”

“Yes, there is,” she stated with quiet persistence.

He paused, looked beyond Tess. Facial muscles became tense. A deep line furrowed his brow. “Luke’s not biologically mine. There had been so many men, Shelly didn’t know who had fathered the boy. Considering I always wore protection, it was a real shock to discover she was pregnant. Still, I wanted the child; she didn’t. Again, nasty, but not complicated.”

“But it hurt. It still hurts, or you wouldn’t be so cynical.”

He moved across the wooden floor, back and forth. “My stupidly is what hurts. How could I have been so damn blinded by love. Talk about naive. Hell, I might have only been twenty-two when I got married, but I knew the score. I’ve seen how people professed love one minute, then cheat and lie the next. I should have known better.”

Tess moved toward him, slipped her arms around his taut waist and placed her head against his chest. She never felt such compassion for a man, never knew that a man could also suffer a form of abuse. With understand came surprising strength. She never had to be strong for anyone before, but liked the idea of being strong for Darius. “You’re not a fool, Darius. You’re a good man. And sometimes the good pay a price for believing in people, but not always. Real love exists, and lasts.”

She lifted her head, her gaze meeting his. “I love you. I trust you. Someday, when you’re ready, perhaps you’ll be able to trust me too. As for love...” She shrugged. “I’m not looking for love.”

“What are you looking for?” His voice sounded hoarse. His eyes darkened with scorching passions.

Slipping out of his embrace, she stared at the remains of their lunch. “Someone to help me clean this up.”

“And then...”

“And then...” She smiled. It wasn’t as bright as it could be, but it was more than she usually offered. “And then, dear heart, we take things one step at a time.”

Darius had wanted another answer, one that spoke of intimate nights and long, passionate mornings, but her answer was better. He needed time to know Tess. She was giving him that time, time and a future that promised things he had forgotten were possible.

* * *

After their bike ride, Darius opened up more and more and had coaxed her to do the same. By the end of the evening, they were both emotionally spent, but each felt a peace never before experienced. Before bed, they shared nothing more than a chaste kiss, but both of them wrestled with unquenched passions for long hours before sleep finally ended their torment.

The next morning, Darius disappeared for several hours, then persuaded her to accompany him to the bay side dock.

Tess crossed her arms and studied the sailboat in front of her. “You want me to what?”

“Get in,” Darius said, using the encouraging tone of a parent to a petulant child. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s a Hunter 336 with a 575 square foot sailing area.”

“I am not afraid,” Tess proclaimed, angry that he had hit a nerve. “I just never sailed before. I mean, when you mentioned sailing, I thought you meant wind sailing, close to shore, not out there...” She jabbed a finger at the horizon where white cottony clouds drifted across a startling blue sky. “Where did you get this thing, anyway?”

“Rented it. I have my own, but it’s docked in Rehobeth.”

“Oh.”

“Com’on, Tess, you’ll be safe with me.”

“Will you stop insinuating that I’m scared, I’m not. I’m coming.” She took a step forward, hesitated. “Um, why don’t I go get some provisions first. We might get hungry,

thirsty--”

“I thought of that,” he broke in, then held out his hand to help her into the boat.

“What if I get sea sick?”

“We’ll come back.”

She cast a dubious look at the boat, took a breath, and took his hand. Her equilibrium shifted for an instant, but then the world righted itself quickly. “Okay, get this thing moving before I change my mind.”

After several hours of slicing through timid waves, Darius stored the sails and dropped anchor in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. Tess couldn’t believe how well he handled the boat with virtually no assistance from her. Oh she tied a few knots and followed directions, but Darius didn’t need her, and she was just as content to simply watch him. Wearing nothing but cut off jeans, he once again resembled an untamed pirate. Tanned skin boasted a virile rampage of hair and sinewy muscles. His eyes held an uninhabited gleam while a wicked twist claimed his grinning mouth.

Out here the real world seemed far away. Tess could no longer remember why she had been so reluctant to give into her needs. Darius didn’t love her, or trust her, but over the past few days something changed inside Tess. Because of his kindness and endless considerations, Tess felt strong enough to survive without any promises on his part. Plus, she needed this. She didn’t know why, but she needed to be close. She truly believed he needed the same thing.

“Hungry,” he said, when he felt her stare.

“Very.”

“I’ve packed some Pita sandwiches stuffed with--”

“I’m not hungry for food, Darius.”

He swallowed, hard. He hadn’t heard right. Surely, he hadn’t heard right. “What do you mean?” he asked carefully.

Under the brim of her sun hat, Tess turned scarlet, but she kept her gaze locked with his. “I’m hungry for you.”

Sizzling passion, which was never far from the surface, crackled like fire. His legs felt like liquid heat; his hands trembled. “I don’t want to complicate things, Tess. I can sleep with a woman and have it mean nothing more than sex, you can’t do the same. I’ve hurt you enough. I won’t do this to you as well.”

“You told me you’d take me six ways to Sunday if I’d have no regrets. I won’t regret loving you. I promise I won’t.” She moved toward him, trembling as much as he did. “Besides, I don’t believe making love to me will mean nothing to you. If you didn’t care for me at least a little, you wouldn’t be so kind, so gentle.”

She moved toward him. Her skin glowed from beneath a white eyelet sundress with tiny white buttons running down the front. He wanted to rip the buttons off with his teeth. “I haven’t been kind, Tess, just--” She was inches away. Her lips beckoned. He couldn’t think. “Oh God, Tess, you’re right, it will mean something. It’ll mean more than I can bring myself to admit.”

She touched his cheek with the back of her fingers. “You don’t have to admit anything. Just show me how you feel.”

His entire body throbbed. He clenched his fists, fighting a battle he didn’t want to win. “Tess, I don’t think...”

“Exactly.” She kissed the tip of his jaw. “Don’t think. I don’t want to think, either. I need you. I think you need me a little, too.”

Darius groaned. Blood pounded in his ears. “Protection... I don’t have...”

Her mouth nuzzled his ear. “You’ve always used it before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but...”

“There had only been Michael and that was eight years ago. It’s okay.”

“It’s not.... I could get you pregnant.”

Her mouth lingered near his. Her breath was sweeter than sugar as intoxicating as wine. “Kiss me.”

The words trampled any lingering reservations. He captured her lips with all the hunger and fervor of having been denied far too long. Again and again, he sampled the sweetness of her mouth. Her lips parted, accepting his darting tongue. Knotted ribbons of desires began to unfurl into consuming flames.

“Oh God, oh God, you feel so good,” he muttered against her mouth as his hands slipped over skin and cotton.

“You too,” she muttered, her own hands exploding the hard expanse of his back, the tight clinch of his waist.

Groaning under her touch, his kiss intensified, becoming so demanding, so hot, they momentarily lost their breaths. He pulled his mouth from hers, stared into the depths of hypnotic eyes and groaned again. “I...”

“Yes.”

“I...” He willed the words to come. He wanted to speak of his love. Something held him back, something that wouldn’t allow the last barrier to fall.

She rained small, rapid kisses on his jaw, his neck, across his chest. And, suddenly the words didn’t matter. His used his hands to express his love, his lips, his caresses. Scooping her up into his arms, he descended into the small cabin.

With quivering hands, he divested her of the hat, sundress, and silky undergarments. He expected the blush that crept into her cheeks, but he didn’t expect her bold response. She unfastened his belt and pushed his jeans downward. She hesitated at his briefs, then quickly shoved them down, then stepped back.

“Oh my, Darius, you’re gorgeous,” she whispered, fascinated by the pure virility of him. Sunlight spilled into the cabin from portals, highlighting his angles and planes, casting hollow regions into shadows. Muscles rippled in legs and arms as he took a step towards her, a smile played about his lips.

“You’re the gorgeous one,” he muttered, in voice husky, his eyes burning as he studied her delicate curves, her slender, exquisite limbs. He slid his hand over one breast, kneading it softly, endlessly, then he brushed his thumb across her nipple. Unbelievable heat shot through her like an arrow that splintered upon impact and simulated every nerve ending. That sensation, though, paled next to the solid wall of fire that came next. Lowering his head, he took the turgid bud into his mouth, playing, coaxing, taunting until she cried out his name, until she could no longer stand, and clutched his shoulders for support.

Lowering her to the built in bunk, he treated her neglected breast to the same torment. She writhed and moaned against exquisite sensations. “Please...” she managed. “Please, now...”

“Soon, my love, soon.”

She tossed her head back, arched her hips. “I’ve never wanted like this.”

“I have.” His lips scorched her neck, her breasts, her stomach and abdomen with ravenous, primitive kisses. “From the moment I laid eyes on you and every second thereafter. “I’ve wanted. You’re all I’ve wanted. And, I doubt I’ll ever want another.”

It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was the closest that he would come. For now, it was enough. It filled her with elation, gave her the courage to caress the hard, pulsating length of him. “Take what you want, Darius. Take me, now.”

He sucked in a breath. “Ah wench, you could tempt the devil himself, but I’m not finished with you. I intend to torment you the way you have tormented me for days.”

Without another word, he worshiped her with lips and tongue, with hands that knew how to excite and stimulate. His fingers slid up her legs, parted her thighs. She instantly tensed against his coaxing fingers, and almost as quickly fell apart against his skilled caresses.

Her instantaneous response thrilled him. She couldn’t know how much it meant for him to bring her fulfillment so easily. It proved they were in sync, that she was right for him, only him.

Tess covered her face with her hands. “I’m shameless.”

He laughed, kissed her. “Ah, wench, you’re intoxicating.”

She peeked out from splayed fingers. “You don’t understand.”

His fingers hadn’t stopped stroking her velvety heat. He kissed her navel, the hollow just below her abdomen, the silky nest of curls. “I understand that my ego’s about to explode.”

Her hands turned into fists that she buried against her eyes. “But...”

He moved upward, nuzzled her flesh, here and there, ran his tongue across each nipple in turn even as he continued to stroke her passionate core, glorying in her heat. “But what?”

“I still want you.”

His laugher was thick and husky. “Thank God.”

She lowered her hands, looked into his passion filled eyes. “I’m not a shameless hussy?”

He positioned himself above her. Kissed her neck. “You’re an insatiable wench, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

He kissed her again. Seeking the taste of her, his tongue darted past her lips and teeth. Until now, he had held back. He had played and taunted. All playfulness suddenly disappeared. His hunger was feral in its intensity. He kneaded her flesh with a desperation he couldn’t restrain, and shockingly, she returned his ardor, kiss for kiss, stroke for stroke, moan for moan.

Stretching her arms around his masculine torso, she pulled him to her. His chest settled against her breast, his hardness complimenting her softness. Their stomachs met in perfect symmetry. His maleness sought her warmth.

He ached for her.

She burned for him.

Both, though, hesitated. They knew, there was no going back. Their world would be irrevocably changed. Tess was the first to acknowledge the change had already occurred. She lifted herself to him.

Without conscious volition, he plunged into her heat. She was tight, almost virginal. She had been so responsive, he had forgotten how many years it had been for her. He should have prepared her better.

“I’m sorry.” He propped himself up on elbows and remained very still, allowing her time to adjust to his size. “Too soon for you... Too...”

“Shh, it doesn’t hurt. How could it when I love you so.”

Her words were his undoing. He moved against her, slowly at first, then faster, deeper. They rocked to an ageless dance, giving and taking. All the while he stared into her eyes, allowed her to see the love in his own. Then, suddenly, they were drowning, straining, reaching for a heaven that had no boundaries, and finally shattering with such intensity that the world dissolved into splinters of light, heat, and love.

Long shimmering moments later, Darius rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. “Wow!”

She smiled, an intoxicating smile. Dimples creased her cheeks. Her eyes blazed green fire. Her face glowed with angelic light. “Oh, yes, wow!”

He cupped her cheek. “You’re okay, really? I shouldn’t have rushed it.”

“It was perfect, Darius.”

He grinned. A wicked gleam entered his gaze. “I think there’s room for improvement.”

“How?”

He pushed her upward until she straddled his hips.

Her eyes widened at the feel of his hardening shaft. “Already?”

“I can’t help it, Tess. I can’t get enough of you.”

“Ditto,” she whispered, then suddenly became the bold wench he had dubbed her. She took control and abandoned herself to delights she had only dreamed about.

* * * Hours later, they pulled into the dock and made their way back to the bungalow. That night, they slept together, but all they did was sleep. Both were too exhausted for anything more.

For several days, they lived in a state of euphoria. Tess’ love bloomed like a prized flower lavished with tender care. And that’s exactly how Tess felt. No one had ever given her such amorous attention, showed her such devotion, cared for her so unselfishly. Darius wasn’t just a considerate lover, he had become a friend. She shared her creative ideas with him, confided her dreams, and discussed the ups and downs of the toy industry. They were so right together, she just knew everything would work out.

Only, on the drive home, Darius became all too quiet. Tess couldn’t help wondering if Darius was right about love being an illusion. Oh, she still loved him all right. But he never revealed how he felt about her. If they could have stayed in that wondrous land of illusion, she knew his barriers would have eventually crumbled. But would reality reaffirm his cynicism? Would that cynicism destroy the fragile bond they had formed over the last few days? She didn’t know.

When Darius left her Wednesday morning with a frigid farewell and a quick kiss, Tess knew no amount of meditation would alleviate her fear. Darius was still wrestling with demons, and there was a good chance he couldn’t fight them.

* * *

After spending the better part of the day with his son, Darius went to the office. He stared at the Delaware River and wondered how the hell he could have left Tess without telling her that he loved her. She had proven over and over that she didn’t have a dishonest or vindictive bone in her glorious body. Even more, he had discovered in Tess not just a lover, but a companion. He had never met anyone with such a generous, caring nature. Life lessons, though, had taught him well. He knew, in his heart, that she had been honest from day one, but he couldn’t accept that Tommy had lied. He had to talk with his friend, before he admitted anything to Tess.

As if on cue, Tommy stepped into the office. “Maggie said you wanted to see me.”

Darius moved to the front of his desk, leaned against it, and tapped his foot. “I want the truth,” he said without preamble.

Tommy averted his gaze. His ears reddened to scarlet. “About what?”

“Don’t play dumb. We’ve known each other since we were kids, we were always up front with each other. Why did you lie about Tess?”

“I... I didn’t...”

“I just spent over five days with the woman. I can’t believe she seduced Jason any more than I can believe she plagiarized anything. I want the truth, Tommy, and I want it now!”

Beads of sweat appeared on Tommy’s brow. He shuffled his feet and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t really know the truth.”

“And what the hell is that suppose to mean?”

Tommy ran a shaky hand over his fiery-red beard. “Damn it, DJ. You don’t know what it’s like to be me. Other than you I don’t have a hell of a lot of friends. Jason was a friend. I thought he was a friend. And, then there’s...” He shook his head and headed toward the door. “Hell, I can’t. I can’t get into this, not yet.”

“Tommy!” Darius called, rushing after the fleeing man. Before Darius reached the elevator, the double doors slid shut.

Darius cursed, but refrained from pursuing the man. He couldn’t understand Tommy’s motivation, but he no longer doubted that he had lied. What hurt more, though, was all the time he had wasted disbelieving Tess. It had even kept him from admitting his love. No, he thought, as he slammed his hand against the elevator’s call button. Be honest. You haven’t told Tess you loved her simply because you’re scared. For sixteen years, he hadn’t let anyone near his heart. Now, he couldn’t get Tess out of it. All that garbage about love being an illusion was for his own benefit, not hers. He had wanted love to be an illusion. He had wanted it to go away so he wouldn’t have to worry about waking up one day and finding her gone. Tess’ love was real, as real as his own, and he wasn’t about to deny it for another minute.

* * *

Darius made it to Tess’ cottage within twenty minutes. He noted the rental car in her drive, but it didn’t really register. The need to reveal himself to Tess was all he could comprehend. Not bothering to knock, he tried the kitchen door and flung it open. The huge smile that encompassed his face, faded, slowly. There, in the middle of the kitchen, a strange man grabbed Tess up in his arms, holding her close as he swung her around.

“I’ve missed you,” she said to the stranger. “I’ve missed you so darn much.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Pain punctured his heart. Fierce rage and the inability to see past Tess’ smile followed. It encompassed her entire face, brightened her eyes, deepened her dimples. It was a glorious smile, and it was all for this stranger whom she professed to miss. Without thought to the consequences, Darius eradicated the distance between them. He yanked Tess from the man’s embrace, and slammed a clenched fist into his stomach. Gasping, the stranger dropped to his knees.

Tess stared at Darius in horror. “What are you doing?”

“Damn you. Damn you to hell.” He stepped back, shocked by his own behavior. “I believed you, every damn word. Why didn’t you tell me you had a lover on the side?”

“What?” the stranger spit out, struggling to his feet. “I’m not...”

“Don’t bother,” Tess interrupted, her voice cold. “After all we’ve shared, if he can believe that of me, then there’s no hope.”

“What do you mean?” Darius asked, suddenly uncertain.

“Just get out,” she said as tears shimmered in her eyes.

“I want to know--”

“I don’t care what you want,” she shouted. “I want you to get out!”

“Fine!” he spat back, his temper still in control. “Be at my office in one hour. We still have a business arrangement to discuss.”

Before she could answer, he bolted through the door.

* * *

Back at his office, Darius paced. Way to go, DJ. How could you have left like that? Do you really believe that man was her lover? It could have been a friend giving a friendly hug. Then again, his wayward self affirmed. What if she had been playing you for a fool all along?

Darius didn’t want to believe that. Yet, he couldn’t dismiss a lifetime of cynicism easily. He needed help -- Tess’ help, Tess’ love. How did he go about doing that when he continually alienated her at every turn?

“DJ,” Cathy called from the doorway. “We need to talk.”

Darius leaned against the desk and waved her in. “What’s up?”

“Jason...”

“What about him?”

“He stole Tess’ prototype. We saw it on the security video.”

“Great, just great. How the hell am I going to explain this to Tess?”

“At least it proves that Tess wasn’t lying about him. If he really created Holly, he’d wait for the truth to come out. The detective discovered that he doesn’t even have the credentials or experience to create a tinker toy. He had lied on his application.”

“How did that get past personnel? How did it get past Tommy?”

“He had his records electronically altered. If our gumshoe didn’t do such a thorough job of tracking down the truth, we’d still be in the dark. As far as Tommy goes...” Cathy shrugged. “Who knows what’s up with that man.”

Darius’ shoulders sagged. God, he had made a mess of everything. He should have believed Tess. He should have fought his own inner cynicism. Was it too late to salvage their relationship?

“Hey, don’t look so grim,” Cathy intoned as she slipped into a chair. “All is not lost. Both the police and our own security team are on it. They trailed Jason to the airport, and know the exact flight he had taken to Paris. Interpol will pick him up at the other end.”

Darius’ relief was short-lived. He still had a relationship to mend. “Listen, I have to--”

“Wait just a minute,” shouted Darius’ receptionist from beyond the door. “You can’t just go in there.”

Darius’ heart skipped a beat. He remembered how Tess had barged into his boardroom just a week before. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Only, instead of Tess, the stranger from her cottage appeared.

Unbidden anger stiffened Darius spine. His hands balled into fist. “It’s okay, Maggie. I’ll deal with him.”

The receptionist nodded, then muttered. “This can’t keep happening.”

Ignoring her, Darius turned his full attention to the stranger. “Where’s Tess?”

“Home. She asked me to deliver a message. She said that Pete Marstan will handle any business arrangements. In the meantime, she wants her prototype back.”

Darius folded his arms less he reach out and throttle the man. Even if he was nothing more than Tess’ friend, Darius couldn’t shake lose the clinging vine of jealousy. Tall and well built, the man had the look of a young Robert Redford. He also had enigmatic green eyes as brilliant and faceted as... “Oh my God,” he rushed. “You’re Tess’ brother. Joe, isn’t it?”

“Shame you didn’t realize that earlier. You could have saved my sister a lot of grief.”

Darius started for the door. “I have to talk to her.”

Joe grabbed his arm. “I’m not a violent man, but hurt her again and you’ll have me to answer to.”

Meeting the younger man’s steady gaze, Darius nodded. “Understood.”

* * *

In shorts and a tank top, Tess attacked the kitchen floor with a scrub brush and soapy, scalding water. Rascal had just pranced across the floor with muddy paws, giving Tess the perfect opportunity to strike something other than Darius D’Angelo. She wanted to pound his chest, to slap him silly, to kick his shins. How could he do this to her? She had thought they had reached an understanding. Perhaps he didn’t love her, but, darn it, she had thought she had finally earned his trust.

Whining, Rascal poked his head through the pet door.

“Don’t even think it,” she commanded. “Look at what you did.”

Inching forward, the dog whimpered.

“No!” she shouted. “You can’t come in. I’m not a doormat. I won’t let you or anyone else take advantage of me ever again. Did you hear me, Rascal? Did you--”

She broke off, knowing Rascal had nothing to do with her anger. The dog unintentionally muddied the floor. Darius, on the other hand, hurt her without thought to the consequences. Why should he fear any consequences? He didn’t love her. He didn’t need her. And, on top of that, she had allowed Darius to use her. “Fool!” she shouted. “You’re such a darn fool!”

“You’re right, I am a fool.”

Darius’ voice slipped up her spine like a caress. But it was the sight of the abject misery plastered to his expression that took the edge off her anger. Dropping the scrub brush into the bucket, she stood and dried her hands on a nearby cloth. “What do you want?”

“To apologize.”

Rascal followed on Darius heels as if he too were offering an apology.

“Oh blow it out your ear. I played your game, Darius. I bared my soul and offered you my heart, but it wasn’t good enough. Now, just go away and leave me alone.”

He moved toward her, looking bold and gorgeous in his customary white shirt and dark slacks. Tess felt herself about to be devoured. Even worse, she wanted to be devoured. She wanted his arms around her. She wanted to forgive him, and start again. Only, how long would it take before he stopped trusting her again?

She held out her hand to stop him from touching her. Her palm met the solid wall of his chest. She felt the erratic thudding of his heart, felt an incredible wave of heat shimmy up her arm and spread throughout her system. “No. You can’t keep doing this to me, Darius. I don’t want you in my life.”

He stepped away. His cool tone didn’t match the hurt in his gaze. “We have business to conduct.”

“Pete will handle any business arrangements.”

“You’re my contact person. I want to deal with you, only you.”

She spun away. His proximity made her want to forget every visage of anger. Only, Tess wasn’t the young girl who had been betrayed by her husband. Nor, was she a naive fool that still believed love could conquer even the most reluctant heart.

“No!”

His hands landed on her shoulders. She felt his breath against her neck. “Please, Tess, I can’t let you go. I want you. I need you.”

Even as she called herself every kind of fool, she turned in his arms not knowing whether it was his touch or his words that melted her resistance. “Oh Darius...”

Their lips met. Hot. Searing. Endless.

The kiss, though, didn’t quench blistering need. Masculine hands slipped under her top. One skimmed the smooth length of her back, the other cupped a breast, massaging and toying until she moaned in surrender.

As if in a daze, Tess felt herself being lifted to the counter. His lips were at the perfect height to plant searing kisses along the length of her sensitized neck and across her collarbone. He spoke sweet, tender words of endearment, he played her like a guitarist strumming golden strings. And Tess responded as she always responded with utter abandon and total love. Trembling fingers found their way under his shirt, ripping buttons in the process. She relished the feel of hair roughened flesh and taut muscles. She absorbed his spicy cologne and kissed him once more. First on the lips, then his cheeks and eyes and the length of his neck. Each kiss produced a growing fervor. The world spun in a delirium of longing and emotion. “I love you,” she whispered. “Oh God, I love you so much.”

She hungered for a similar sentiment. She even lifted her head and gazed into his dark, encompassing eyes, needing to see his love as well as to hear it. She saw undeniable passion, potent, complex emotions, but he only spoke of need and desire, not love. Tess suddenly realized she could settle for nothing less. For the first time in her adult life, she acknowledged that she had more self-worth than she had ever before realized. If Darius couldn’t love her, then she’d be no better off than she had been with Michael. True Darius wouldn’t hurt her, but she’d end up turning into his lap dog. Before long he wouldn’t even respect her. She couldn’t live like that.

Darius instantly felt the change in her. He cupped her face in his hands. “Tess?”

She shrugged out of his hold and slid off the counter. “I can’t. Not any more.”

“I don’t understand. What did I do?”

She laughed, a dry, brittle laugh. “It’s what you didn’t do, Darius. Michael never told me that he loved me either. At least neither of you lied about it.”

Horror filled Darius gaze. “Is that what you think? Don’t you realize--”

“Don’t!” she shouted. “I don’t want professions of love, now. You’re so hot and bothered you’ll say anything to get me into bed. But what happens tomorrow? What happens when some new scenario arises and you start to mistrust me again? I can’t live a yo-yo existence, Darius, never knowing when you’ll suddenly become distant and cynical. I want more than that. I deserve more!”

Darius never felt so cold. It surged through him like an arctic wind, encompassing everything but the blistering pain surrounding his heart. “But I do lov...”

“No!” she screamed, and rammed tight fists into his chest. “Noooo! It’s too late.”

As if the outburst eradicated the last visages of her anger, she sighed and became quiescent, distant. “If you still want to abide by our verbal agreement contact Peter, otherwise...” She let the sentence trail, kept her gaze focused on the far wall.

Darius stared at her, knowing he had earned this. He had waited too long to admit his love. The tables had turned. Tess no longer believed anything he had to say, and he couldn’t blame her. Only, how the hell was he going to survive losing her?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered lamely and headed toward the door.

* * *

Over the next month, Darius didn’t know what was worse - his nights or his days. During the day, he remained composed, conducting business, tending to his son’s needs. Keeping his emotions in tact, though, cost him hours of sleep. He’d walk the floors, remembering Tess’ laughter, her smile, her calming presence, her intense lovemaking. He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life without her, but he didn’t know how to go about getting her back. He had hurt her, over and over, and she had made every allowance. Any other woman would have thrown him out of her life a lot sooner. He was only reaping his just reward.

The only bright spot was that Tommy had finally admitted that Jason was blackmailing him. Years before Tommy had hired an illegal immigrant, Nina, as a housekeeper, and had been secretly in love with the woman from day one. Jason found out and threatened to tell the immigration board unless Tommy kept covering for him. Darius not only forgave Tommy, but insisted he tell Nina about his feelings. It turned out that Nina also loved Tommy. After a hasty marriage, Tommy joined Darius in testifying against Jason at a preliminary hearing. Even with a plea-bargain, Jason would face several years of jail-time.

Having the truth out in the open and everything settled did nothing to alleviate Darius’ depression. Especially when Tess didn’t even show up for the negotiations between their companies. Still, everything went smoothly, too smoothly. Tess didn’t ask for much, and Darius was more than generous.

Afterward, Pete held out his hand. “It was a pleasure doing business with you. Tess was right, you’re not a tyrant.”

Darius offered the man a half smile. “Don’t let it get around.”

With a grin, Pete started toward the boardroom door. Darius’ booming voice stopped him. “How is Tess?”

Pete shuffled from one foot to the other. “Um... well, um... Working hard. Doing well, I think.”

“You think? What do you mean, you think? Is something wrong? Tell me!”

Pete stared at Darius. His gaze thoughtful. “If you want to know anything about the lady I suggest you ask her.”

Just the thought of seeing Tess made Darius’ heart thump against his rib cage. But it wasn’t an option. “It’s not possible,” he said.

“Sure it is.” Pete took another step away. “Just show up.”

Darius shifted from one foot to another. “I can’t do that to her, but...”

“Yeah?”

“Would you tell her that I had asked for her? That if there’s anything she needs, I’ll always be here for her.”

“Sure you don’t want to do that yourself?”

“I do, but I don’t think she’d listen.”

Pete nodded. “Yeah, the lady can be stubborn. She can also be real easy if you know what buttons to push.”

“No!” Darius didn’t realize he had shouted until Pete flinched. “I mean,” he said in a lower tone. “I’ve already pushed too many buttons. She deserves better.”

“If you say so, pal, but I think you’re making a mistake.”

As Pete left, Darius muttered in a low, shaky tone, “I’ve already made a mistake, probably the biggest of my life.”

* * *

Tess stared at the drawing board. She was in the midst of designing a second generation to Holly, but she couldn’t focus. She hadn’t been able to focus or think properly since the last time she had seen Darius. The man was in her blood, in every thought, every dream. He was like a virus, rendering her helpless. Every day for the past month she relived their last moments together. He had been about to say he loved her, and she hadn’t allowed it. At the time, she had thought he was only going to say what she had wanted to hear. In retrospect, Tess was no longer sure. In an attempt to be strong had she destroyed something worth saving? Had Darius finally come to terms with his cynicism? Had he been willing to try at the exact moment Tess had given up? If he had truly loved her, wouldn’t he have tried again? There were no answers, only misery.

Tess threw down a charcoal pencil and jumped from her office chair. “It’s useless,” she said aloud. “Totally useless.”

“Having problems?” Pete asked from the doorway.

Instead of answering, she asked, “How did it go?”

Pete went into a monologue of legalities. Tess’ interests, though, centered around how Darius looked, if he seemed happy, what he had said. Finally, Pete reiterated Darius’ message.

“And just what’s that supposed to mean,” she snapped.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” Pete settled into a nearby chair. It was old and worn like most of the furniture in Tess’ office, but it reeked of lemon oil and was rather comfortable despite being entirely made of wood. “He’s hurting Tess, just like you’re hurting.”

She turned away. Situated at the apex of the barn’s loft, her office boasted a huge arch window. It attracted northern light and provided an exquisite view. For the first time since she had stepped into this room, Tess didn’t appreciate the scenery. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ah, com’on, Tess. You can’t hide how you feel about the man no more than he can hide his feelings for you.”

Her head fell against the glass pane. “I really made a mess of things. I guess he did too, but I still love him.”

“Then tell him so.”

“He already knows.”

“No he doesn’t.”

The young male voice startled Tess. She spun around and studied Darius’ son. Luke’s smile wasn’t as intense as normal, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. She spotted the same glint in Pete’s gaze.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Pete supplied. “I just happened to have run into Luke here. We got talking and, well...”

“Yes,” she prompted.

“I asked Pete if I could follow him here,” Luke finished.

“Does your father know?”

“I didn’t tell him, but with good reason.”

Luke’s sudden grin reminded her of Darius. Something sharp and painful settled about the vicinity of her heart. “Go on,” she said, unsuccessful in hiding a sudden quiver in her tone.

“I’m planning a surprise birthday party for him on Saturday. I wanted you to come.”

A complex mix of emotions jettisoned through Tess.

Fear that Darius no longer wanted her in his life. Joy at the thought of seeing him again. Anger that she felt either emotion. “I don’t think--”

“Exactly,” Pete interrupted, “don’t think. Just do it, Tess. What can it hurt? They’ll be a room full of people. If you feel there is still a chance for the two of you, then you stay and talk once everyone leaves. If not, just make a brief appearance.”

Tess stood very still, nearly breathless. If she didn’t go, she’d always wonder. Still, what if she ended up throwing herself at him? What if he hurt her again? Then I’ll just pick myself up and go from there, she told herself. I’m not a mouse, but a woman with purpose and drive. Sending Darius away the first time proved that. He could just be honoring my wishes by staying away. If you don’t go, you’ll always have regrets.

Releasing a slow breath, Tess squared her shoulders. “What time should I be there?”

* * *

That Saturday evening, Tess changed her outfit five times, settling finally on an Indian cotton sundress with a scooped neck, no sleeves and tiny seed buttons running down the front. Gold earrings peered from behind glossy hair that skimmed slender shoulders. Painted toenails peeked out of straw sandals. She had a matching purse that housed Darius’ gift, a gift she couldn’t resist. A gift that boasted a boldness and strength of character she didn’t realize she possessed.

Taking a quick breath on her inhaler before leaving her cottage, Tess made it to Darius’ home within twenty minutes.

The door opened before she could ring the bell. Dressed in jeans and a Star Wars T-shirt, Luke put his finger to his lips and waved her into the dining room. The large oak table displayed delicate china cake plates, crystal goblets, gold cutlery, and a menagerie of flickering candles. A bucket of ice housed a bottle of vintage champagne while an array of exotic flowers demanded attention.

Tess blinks. “Where is everyone? I thought--”

“Shh, it’s a surprise,” Luke whispered with a huge grin.

“But...” Before she could say another word, Luke rushed from the room. Unbidden terror slipped up Tess’ spine. A sixteen-year old had set her up! Although, she’d take odds that Pete had a hand in it, as well. Part of her wanted to scurry away. Her more logical side knew that wouldn’t solve a thing. It was time to confront Darius, to find out conclusively if there was anything worth salvaging.

An instant later, she heard footsteps and Darius’ distinctive voice. “Okay, okay, I’ll blow out the birthday candles if it’ll make you happy. But, I told you before I’m not in a celebrating mood. So don’t--”

He broke off the moment he entered the dining room, then blinked rapidly as if not believing what he saw. “Tess?”

Speech momentarily deserted her. Darius’ clothes hung off an all too thin frame. His eyes had lost their vibrancy. He had a day’s growth of beard. Had she done this to him? Did he really care that much? Regret mingled with a warm soft surge of emotion. Regardless of the outcome Tess intended to fight for Darius this time. Perhaps he didn’t believe in love, but he felt something very intense for her. She no longer doubted that.

“Happy birthday,” she said, her voice very soft despite an undercurrent of emotion.

“I don’t understand.”

“Your son told me he had planned a surprise party for you.”

Luke held out his hand indicating the birthday cake, sitting on the sideboard. “I did. Pete was the one who had mentioned other people, not me.”

“This isn’t funny--” Darius’ started, then blinked again. “You came,” he said to Tess. “You actually came. Should I read something into this? Or were you just being--”

“I love you,” she blurted, her chin tilted at a defiant angle. “And somehow, someway, I’m going to make you love me back.”

Darius squeezed his eyes shut for such a long moment, Tess feared she had made a mistake. He didn’t care. He didn’t want anything to do with her. Oh God, she just... Before Tess could finish the thought, Darius wrapped his arms around her and buried his head against her throat. “I do love you, Tess. I’ve been a fool not to tell you sooner. I’m so sorry for... for... Oh God, for everything. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“We’ve both made mistakes, Darius. Our relationship is going to take work. You have to learn to trust, and I have to remember that I’m not the same woman that Michael had abused.” She pulled away, slightly. “But we can do this. I know we can make it work.”

Darius studied her emotion-filled eyes, and discovered a serenity inside himself that he hadn’t known existed. He had waited for love all his life, true love, the kind this woman was offering. He’d move heaven and hell to make sure nothing ever got between them again. “I know that too, dear heart. I only wish we did something about it sooner. It’s been one hell of a month.”

She nodded. “Yes, but I think we needed that time to work on our individual issues. You needed to believe in love.” She sighed, then smiled, slowly at first, then with the brilliance of a thousand stars. “And I needed to believe in me, in my ability to love without turning into a doormat.”

“Ah, dear heart, I love you so much,” he murmured against her mouth as he found her lips once more.

Luke coughed loudly, startling both adults. “Um... just so you know, dad, I’m spending the night at the Dobbers. I thought the two of you might need some time alone.”

Darius threw his son a huge, beaming grin. “You thought right. Call when you get there.”

“Two rings,” Luke said, a look of triumph plastered to his face. “There’s no reason to disturb you.”

Backing away, Luke rubbed his hand over his jaw. “There’s only one problem.”

“Hmmm,” Darius said, not taking his gaze off Tess.

“How the heck am I ever going to top this birthday gift?”

Tess lifted a delicate brow. “I’m his gift?”

“All that’s missing is the bow,” Luke joked.

“Tell you what,” Tess said, her voice light and lyrical. “Next year we’ll work on your dad’s gift together.”

“Does that mean you intend to stick around?” Hope tinged Luke’s tone.

“For as long as your dad wants me.”

“Then plan for an eternity, dear heart.”

“That sounds like--” Luke began, only to have his father cut him off.

“Good-bye, son.”

“But--”

“Now!”

With a chuckle, Luke walked out of the room. A few seconds later, they heard a car driving off.

“Want me to open the champagne? It appears we have something to celebrate.”

Tess’ smile touched her eyes, brightened her complexion. She had never looked more radiant. “Shouldn’t you open your present first.”

She slipped one strap of her sundress over her shoulder. “Or do you want me to open it for you.”

Darius’ entire body shuddered in response to her invitation. “It’s my gift,” he said in a husky tone. “I’ll do the honors.”

With one quick motion, he scooped her up off the floor and started toward the steps.

“Too far,” Tess whispered as she nibbled his earlobe.

“Ah, yes, much too far.” Darius groaned and made tracks for the sun room. The blinds were down. Candlelight flickered off wicker furnishings. Just minutes before, Darius had sat there wishing Tess were with him. For an instant, he wondered if he were dreaming. But she smelled too good to be a fantasy, felt too good to be anything but flesh and blood.

Lowering her to the floor, Darius pushed down her other sundress strap, then paused. “Be sure, Tess. I couldn’t take losing you again. It took me a long time to recognize real love, and I’m not about to give it up for anything. If we fight, we work it out. No more running away. No more misunderstandings. We’re together for the duration, no turning back. This is forever.”

“Forever,” she repeated and lifted her lips to his.

That was all it took for Darius to lose complete control. His entire body burned with a need he had never before experienced. There was an urgency to his lovemaking. He needed to make her his own as quickly as possible. It was as if he still feared this was all a dream, and he’d wake up all too soon.

“Love you,” he whispered over and over between hot, passionate kisses. He practically tore her clothes from her, almost violent in his need. Tess, didn’t complain. She displayed the same lack of impatience. She pushed off his shirt and broke his pants’ zipper. It had been too long since she had experienced his passion. But it was more than that. She had never felt loved by a man before. She felt it now. It was in his kisses, his touch, in his whispered words. She wanted to seal that love inside her, and knew of only one way.

After an eternity of foreplay, they fell to the futon. Darius hit a lever, and it instantly turned into a bed. Suddenly, the urgency stopped as he settled himself between her thighs. Erratic breaths escaped bruised lips. Intense passion threatened to consume. Yet, Darius entered her slowly, taking his time to savor each stroke. He had never thought he’d touch her again, and now she was here. Here. He wanted the moment to last an eternity.

Tess had other ideas, though. She moved her hips to an ancient rhythm, forcing him to quicken the pace. “I love you,” she whispered, and smiled when he said it back again and again as she climbed to a pinnacle never before scaled. She became the wanton wench he had once dubbed her. He became the rakish pirate he resembled. Reality slipped away. They were the essence of passion, the product of love.

Soon they crested on the shore of an unknown realm, shattering again and again in the wake of total abandon. It was then that Darius realized that he had never loved anyone like this before. Tess had been right. The rarity of true love made the actualization of it more special then he could ever have contemplated.

For Tess, knowing that Darius loved her heightened the experience and took her to a magical realm never before encountered. Tears appeared in her brilliant eyes. Her throat became tight with feeling.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, concern saturating his tone. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

“No,” she returned. “You loved me. I didn’t know it could be like this when a man loved you.”

“So, this is true love, huh.” He grinned as one hand cupped her breasts, messaging gently. “It’s real easy to get used to.”

She touched his face, his hair. She couldn’t stop touching him. She couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m glad, because I’m not going anywhere for a long time.”

“Then I hope you like my plans for the evening.”

“Plans? Like what?”

“Like eating some birthday cake, then having dessert.”

“Isn’t birthday cake dessert?”

He ran his tongue over her lips. “No, you’re dessert.”

“I thought I was a present.”

“You are,” he said softly. “You’re everything to me, present, dessert, partner, friend, lover.”

“Speaking of presents...” She slipped out from his embrace, grabbed her dress and pulled it on. All the buttons were missing but two.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

A second later, she returned with a small gift wrapped box. “Happy birthday, dear heart.”

Wearing only briefs, Darius opened the gift. A satin lined box displayed two intricately carved wedding bands. This time it was Darius’ eyes that became wet with emotion. “Tess, does this mean...”

“Marry me,” she said, then became very still, almost frozen as she awaited his answer. She didn’t have to wait long. He lifted the smaller of the two rings from the box and slipped it on the third finger of her left hand. “I thee wed.”

He handed her the remaining ring. “We’ll do this properly as soon as possible, okay?”

Nodding, she placed the larger of the two rings on his finger. “I thee wed. You may kiss the bride.”

His kiss was gentle, loving, and they both knew a marriage ceremony would only be a formality. They had already bonded, and that bond would last an eternity.

THE END