He’d just glanced over at his son, Casey, only fifteen, but working as hard as any man, tall and strong and determined. His smile was filled with incredible pride.

The last two weekends he’d been caught up with patients, and he’d missed working outside with Casey, enjoying the fresh air, using his hands and body until the physical strain tired him.

Summer scents were heavy in the air, drifting to him as he layered another replacement board on the fence and hammered it in. A warm, humid breeze stirred his hair, bringing with it the promise of a harsh evening storm. He’d inhaled deeply, thinking how perfect his life was.

Then his son shouted, “Holy sh—ah, heck!” catching Sawyer’s attention.

Not knowing what to expect, Sawyer turned in the direction Casey pointed his hammer and disbelief filled him as a rusted sedan, moving at breakneck speed, came barreling down the gravel road bordering their property. The turn at the bottom, hugging the Kentucky hills, was sharp; the car would never make it.

Sawyer got a mere glimpse of a pale, wide-eyed female face behind the wheel before, tires squealing, gravel flying, the car came right through the fence he’d just repaired, splintering wood and scattering nails, forcing him to leap for cover. Sheer momentum sent the car airborne for a few feet before it hit the grassy ground with a loud thump and was propelled forward several more feet to slide hood first into a narrow cove of the lake. The front end was submerged, hissing and bubbling, while the trunk and back wheels still rested on solid land, leaving the car at a crazy tilt.

Both Sawyer and Casey stood frozen for several seconds, stunned by what had happened, before ungluing their feet and rushing to the edge of the small cove. Without hesitation, Casey waded waist-deep into the water and peered in the driver’s window. “It’s a girl!”

Sawyer pushed him aside and leaned down.

His breath caught and held. “Girl” wasn’t exactly an apt description of the unconscious woman inside. In a heartbeat, he took in all her features, scanning her from head to toes. As a doctor, he looked for signs of injury, but as a man, he appreciated how incredibly, utterly feminine she was. He guessed her to be in her mid-twenties. Young, a tiny woman, but definitely full grown.

The window was thankfully open, giving him easy access to her, but water rapidly washed into the car, almost covering her shins. Silently cursing himself and his masculine, knee-jerk reaction to her, he told Casey, “Go to the truck and call Gabe at the house. Tell him to meet us out front.”

Casey hurried off while Sawyer considered the situation. The woman was out cold, her head slumped over the steering wheel, her body limp. The back seat of the car was filled with taped cardboard boxes and luggage, some of which had tumbled forward, landing awkwardly against her. A few open crates had dumped, and items—bric-abrac, books and framed photos—were strewn about. It was obvious she’d been packed up for a long trip—or a permanent one.

Sawyer reached for her delicate wrist and was rewarded to feel a strong pulse. Her skin was velvety smooth, warm to the touch. He carefully placed her hand back in her lap, keeping it away from the icy cold water.

It took some doing, but he got the driver’s door wedged open. If the car had surged a little deeper into the lake, he never would have managed it. More water flooded in. The woman moaned and turned her head, pushing away from the steering wheel, then dropping forward again. Her easy, unconscious movements assured Sawyer she had no spinal or neck injuries. After moving the fallen objects away from her, he carefully checked her slender arms, slipping his fingers over her warm flesh, gently flexing each elbow, wrist and shoulder. He drew his hands over her jeans-clad legs beneath the water, but again found no injuries. Her lips parted and she groaned, a rasping, almost breathless sound of pain. Frowning, Sawyer examined the swelling bump on her head. He didn’t like it that she was still out, and her skin felt a little too warm, almost feverish.

Casey came to a skidding, sloshing halt beside him, sending waves to lap at Sawyer’s waist. His gaze was narrowed with concern on the woman’s face. “Gabe offered to bring you your bag, but I told him I’d call him back if you needed it.” He spoke in a whisper, as if afraid of disturbing her. “We’re taking her to the house with us, aren’t we?”

“Looks like.” If she didn’t come to on the way to the house, he’d get her over to the hospital. But that was a good hour away, and most people in Buckhorn chose him over the hospital anyway, unless the situation was truly severe. And even then, it was generally his call.

He’d decide what to do after he determined the extent of her injuries. But first things first; he needed to get her out of the car and away from the debilitating effects of the cold water and hot sun.

Luckily, they weren’t that far away from the house. He owned fifty acres, thick with trees and scrub bushes and wildflowers. The lake, long and narrow like a river, bordered the back of his property for a long stretch of shore. The ten acres surrounding the house and abutting the lake were kept mowed, and though it couldn’t be called an actual road, there was a worn dirt path where they often brought the truck to the cove to fish or swim. Today they’d driven down to make repairs to a worn fence.

A crooked smile tipped up one side of his mouth. Thanks to the lady, the repairs to the fence were now more necessary than ever.

Sawyer carefully slid one arm beneath her legs, the other behind the small of her back. Her head tipped toward him, landing softly on his bare, sweaty shoulder. Her hair was a deep honey blond with lighter sun streaks framing her face. It smelled of sunshine and woman, and he instinctively breathed in the scent, letting it fill his lungs. Her hair was long enough to drag across the car seat as he lifted her out. “Grab her keys and purse, then get the shirt I left by the fence.” He needed to cover her, and not only to counter the chill of the lake water.

He was almost ashamed to admit it, even to himself, but he’d noticed right off that her white T-shirt was all but transparent with the dousing she’d taken. And she wasn’t wearing a bra.

He easily shook that observation from his mind.

Even with her clothes soaked, the woman weighed next to nothing, but still it was an effort to climb the small embankment out of the lake without jarring her further. She’d lost one thin sandal in the wreck, and now the other fell off with a small splash. The mud squished beneath Sawyer’s boots, making for unsure footing. Casey scrambled out ahead, then caught at Sawyer’s elbow, helping to steady him. Once they were all on the grassy embankment, Casey ran off to follow the rest of his instructions, but was back in a flash with the shirt, which he helped Sawyer arrange around her shoulders. Sawyer kept her pressed close to his chest, preserving her privacy and saving his son from major embarrassment.

“You want me to drive?” Walking backward, Casey managed to keep his gaze on the woman and avoid tripping.

“Yeah, but slowly. No unnecessary bumps, okay?” Casey was still learning the rudiments of changing gears, and he used any excuse to get behind the wheel.

“No problem, I’ll just…” His voice trailed off as the woman stirred, lifting one limp hand to her forehead.

Sawyer stopped, holding her securely in his arms. He stared down at her face, waiting for her to regain complete awareness, strangely anticipating her reaction. “Easy now.”

Her lashes were thick and dark brown tipped with gold and they fluttered for a moment before her eyes slowly opened—and locked on his. Deep, deep blue, staring into him, only inches away.

Sawyer became aware of several things at once: her soft, accelerated breath on his throat, the firmness of her slim thighs on his bare arm, her breasts pressing through the damp cotton of her shirt against his ribs. He could feel the steady drumming of her heartbeat, and the way her body now stiffened the tiniest bit. He felt a wave of tingling awareness shudder through his body, from his chest all the way to his thighs. His reaction to her was out of proportion, considering the circumstances and his usual demeanor. He was a physician, for God’s sake, and didn’t, in the normal course of things, even notice a woman as a woman when medical treatment was required.

Right now, he couldn’t help but notice. Holding this particular woman was somehow altogether different. So often, he put aside his tendencies as a man in deference to those of a doctor; being a doctor was such an enormous part of him. But now he found it difficult to separate the two. The doctor was present, concerned for her health and determined to give her the best of his care. But the man was also there, acutely aware of her femininity and unaccountably responding to it in a very basic way. He’d never faced such a pickle before, and he felt equal parts confusion, curiosity and something entirely too close to embarrassment. For a moment while they stared at each other, it was so silent, he imagined he could hear her thoughts.

Then she slugged him.

Though she had no strength at all and her awkward blow barely grazed him, he was so taken by surprise he nearly dropped her. While Casey stood there gawking, making no effort to help, Sawyer struggled to maintain his hold and his balance with a squirming woman in his arms.

Out of sheer self-preservation, he lowered her bare feet to the ground—then had to catch her again as she swayed and almost crumpled. She would have fallen if both he and Casey hadn’t grabbed hold of some part of her, but she still made the feeble effort to shrug them both away.

“No!” she said in a rough, whispering croak, as if her panicked voice could do no better.

“Hey, now,” Sawyer crooned, trying the tone he’d often heard his brother Jordan use when talking to a sick or frightened animal. “You’re okay.”

She tried to swing at him again, he ducked back, and she whirled in a clumsy circle, stopping when her small fist made contact with Casey’s shoulder. Casey jumped a good foot, unhurt but startled, then rubbed his arm.

Enough was enough.

Sawyer wrapped his arms around her from behind, both supporting and restraining her. “Shh. It’s okay,” he said, over and over again. She appeared somewhat disoriented, possibly from the blow to her head. “Settle down now before you hurt yourself.”

His words only prompted more struggles, but her movements were ineffectual.

“Lady,” he whispered very softly, “you’re terrorizing my son.”

With a gasp, she glanced up at Casey, who looked young and very strong, maybe bursting with curiosity, but in no way terrorized.

Sawyer smiled, then continued in calm, even tones. “Listen to me now, okay? Your car landed in our lake and we fished you out. You were unconscious. It’s probable you have a concussion, on top of whatever else ails you.”

“Let me go.”

Her body shook from head to toe, a mixture of shock and illness, Sawyer decided, feeling that her skin was definitely too hot. “If I let you go you’ll fall flat on your face. That or try to hit my boy again.”

If anything, she panicked more, shaking her head wildly. “No…”

After glaring at Sawyer, Casey held both arms out to his sides. “Hey, lady, I’m not hurt. I’m fine.” His neck turned red, but his voice was as calm and soothing as his father’s. “Really. Dad just wants to help you.”

“Who are you?”

She wasn’t talking to Casey now. All her attention seemed to be on staying upright. Even with Sawyer’s help, she was wobbly. He gently tightened his hold, keeping her close and hindering her futile movements. “Sawyer Hudson, ma’am. I’m the man who owns this property. Me and my brothers. As I said, you landed in my lake. But I’m also a doctor and I’m going to help you.” He waited for a name, for a reciprocal introduction, but none was forthcoming.

“Just…just let me go.”

Slowly, still maintaining his careful hold on her, he turned them both until they faced the lake. “You see your car? It’s not going anywhere, honey. Not without a tow truck and some major repairs.”

She gasped, and her entire body went rigid. “You know my name.”

He didn’t understand her, but he understood shock. “Not yet, but I will soon. Now…” He paused as her face washed clean of color and she pressed one hand to her mouth. Sawyer quickly lowered her to her knees, still supporting her from behind. “You going to be sick?”

“Oh, God.”

“Now just take a few deep breaths. That’s it.” To Casey, he said, “Go get the water,” and his son took off at a sprint, his long legs eating up the ground.

Sawyer turned back to the woman and continued in his soft, soothing tone. “You feel sick because of the blow to your head. It’s all right.” At least, he thought that was the cause. She also felt feverish, and that couldn’t be attributed to a concussion. After a moment of watching her gulp down deep breaths, he asked, “Any better?”

She nodded. Her long fair hair hung nearly to the ground, hiding her face like a silky, tangled curtain. He wrapped it around his hand and pulled it away so he could see her clearly. Her eyes were closed, her mouth pinched. Casey rushed up with the water bottle, and Sawyer held it to her lips. “Take a few sips. There you go. Real slow, now.” He watched her struggling for control and wished for some way to lessen the nausea for her. “Let’s get you out of this hot sun, okay? I can get you more comfortable in a jiffy.”

“I need my car.”

Didn’t she remember crashing into the water? Sawyer frowned. “Let me take you to my house, get you dried off and give your belly a chance to settle. I’ll have one of my brothers pull your car out and see about having it towed to the garage to be cleaned…”

“No!”

Getting somewhat exasperated, Sawyer leaned around until he could meet her gaze. Her lush bottom lip trembled, something he couldn’t help but make note of. He chided himself. “No, what?”

She wouldn’t look at him, still doing her best to shy away. “No, don’t have it towed.”

“Okay.” She appeared ready to drop, her face now flushed, her lips pale. He didn’t want to push her, to add to her confusion. His first priority was determining how badly she might be hurt.

He tried a different tack. “How about coming to my house and getting dry? You can use the phone, call someone to give you a hand.”

He watched her nostrils flare as she sucked in a slow, labored breath—then started coughing. Sawyer loosened his hold to lift her arms above her head, supporting her and making it easier for her to breathe. Once she’d calmed, he wrapped her close again, giving her his warmth as she continued to shiver.

She swallowed hard and asked, “Why? Why would you want to help me? I don’t believe you.”

Leaning back on his heels, he realized she was truly terrified. Not just of the situation, of being with total strangers and being hurt and sick, but of him specifically. It floored him, and doubled his curiosity. He was a doctor, respected throughout the community, known for his calm and understanding demeanor. Women never feared him, they came to him for help.

Looking over her head to Casey, seeing the mirrored confusion on his son’s face, Sawyer tried to decide what to do next. She helped to make up his mind.

“If…if you let me go, I’ll give you money.”

He hesitated only two seconds before saying, “Casey, go start the truck.” Whatever else ailed her, she was terrified and alone and hurt. The mystery of her fear could be solved later.

She stiffened again and her eyes squeezed tight. He heard her whisper, “No.”

Determined now, he lifted her to her feet and started her forward, moving at a slow, easy pace so she wouldn’t stumble. “’Fraid so. You’re in no condition to be on your own.”

“What are you going to do?”

A better question was what did she think he was going to do. But he didn’t ask it, choosing instead to give her an option. “My house or the hospital, take your pick. But I’m not leaving you here alone.”

She took two more dragging steps, then held her head. Her body slumped against his in defeat. “Your…your house.”

Surprised, but also unaccountably pleased, he again lifted her in his arms. “So you’re going to trust me just a bit after all?”

Her head bumped his chin as she shook it. “Never.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Lesser of two evils, huh? Now you know I gotta wonder why the hospital is off-limits.” She winced with each step he took, so he talked very softly just to distract her. “Did you rob a bank? Are you a wanted felon?”

“No.”

“If I take you in, will someone recognize you?”

“No.”

The shirt he’d draped around her was now tangled at her waist. He tried not to look, but after all, he was human, a male human, and his gaze went to her breasts.

She noticed.

Warm color flooded her cheeks, and he rushed to reassure her. “It’s all right. Why don’t we readjust the shirt I gave you just a bit?”

She didn’t fight him when he loosened his hold enough to let her legs slip to the ground. She leaned against him while he pulled the shirt up around her, slipping her arms through the sleeves. It was an old faded blue chambray shirt, the sleeves cut short, the top button missing. He’d often used it for work because it was soft and ragged. She should have looked ridiculous in it, wearing it like a robe. Instead, she looked adorable, the shirt in stark contrast to her fragile femininity. The hem hung down to her knees, and it almost wrapped around her twice. Sawyer shook his head, getting his thoughts back on track once again.

“Better?”

“Yes.” She hesitated, clutching the shirt, then whispered, “Thank you.”

He watched her face for signs of discomfort as they took the last few steps to the truck. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “You’re in pain, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m just—”

He interrupted her lie. “Well, lucky for you, I really am a doctor, and for the moment you can keep your name, and why you’re so frightened, to yourself. All I want to do right now is help.”

Her gaze flicked to his, then away. Sawyer opened the door of the idling truck and helped her inside. He slid in next to her, then laid his palm against her forehead in a gentle touch. “You’re running a fever. How long have you been sick?”

Casey put the truck in gear with a rough start that made her wince. He mumbled an apology, then kept the gears smooth after that.

With one hand covering her eyes, she said, “It’s…just a cold.”

He snorted. Her voice was so raspy, he could barely understand her. “What are your symptoms?”

She shook her head.

“Dizzy?”

“A little.”

“Headache? A tightness in your chest?”

“Yes.”

Sawyer touched her throat, checking for swollen glands and finding them. “Does this hurt?”

She tried to shrug, but it didn’t have the negligent effect she’d probably hoped for. “Some. My throat is sore.”

“Trouble breathing?”

She gave a choked half laugh at his persistence. “Alittle.”

“So of course you decided to go for a drive.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he said, “Look at me,” then gently lifted each eyelid, continuing his examination. She needed to be in bed getting some care. On top of a likely concussion, he suspected an upper respiratory infection, if not pneumonia. Almost on cue, she gave another hoarse, raw cough. “How long have you had that?”

She turned bleary, suspicious eyes his way. “You’re a real doctor?”

“Wanna see my bag? All docs have one, you know.”

Casey piped up with, “He really is. In fact, he’s the only doctor Buckhorn has. Some of the women around here pretend to be sick just to see him.” He smiled at her. “You don’t need to be afraid.”

“Casey, watch the road.” The last thing he needed was his son filling her ears with nonsense, even if the nonsense was true. He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the local women’s antics nearly as much as his brothers or son did. Sawyer treated it all as a lark, because he had no intention of getting involved with any of the women, and they knew it.

He had a respected position in the community and refused to take advantage of their offers. Driving out of the area was always difficult, not to mention time-consuming. He’d had a few long-distance, purely sexual relationships when the fever of lust got to him and he had to have relief. He was a healthy man in every way, and he didn’t begrudge himself the occasional weakness due to his sex. But those encounters were never very satisfying, and he sometimes felt it was more trouble than it was worth.

She turned to him, her blue eyes huge again, and worried. She nervously licked at her dry lips. Sawyer felt that damn lick clear down to his gut, and it made him furious, made him wonder if another out-of-town trip wasn’t in order. She was a woman, nothing more, nothing less. And at the moment, she looked pale, on the verge of throwing up, and her mood was more surly than not.

So why was he playing at being a primitive, reacting solely on male instincts he hadn’t even known he had?

Her worried frown prompted one of his own. “You had a lot of stuff stowed in your back seat. Moving?”

She bit her lip, and her fingers toyed with the tattered edge of the shirt he’d given her, telling him she didn’t want to answer his questions. After another bout of coughing where she pressed a fist to her chest and he waited patiently, she whispered, “How do you know my name?”

He lifted one brow. “I don’t.”

“But…” It was her turn to narrow her eyes, and the blue seemed even more intense in her annoyance, shaded by her thick lashes, accompanied by her flushed cheeks. Then the annoyance turned to pain and she winced, rubbing at her temples.

Compassion filled him. Finding out the truth could wait. For now, she needed his control. There was no faking a fever, or that croupy cough. “You’re confused. And no wonder, given how sick you are and that knock on the head you got when your car dove into the lake.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’ll pay for the damage to your fence.”

Sawyer didn’t reply to that. For some reason, it made him angry. Even the little talking they’d done had weakened her; she was now leaning on him, her eyes closed. But she was concerned for his damn fence? She should have been concerned about her soft hide.

Casey successfully pulled the truck into the yard beneath a huge elm. Gabe sprinted off the porch where he’d been impatiently waiting, and even before Casey killed the engine, Gabe had the truck door open. “What the hell’s going on?” Then his eyes widened on the woman, and he whistled.

Sawyer leaned down to her ear. “My baby brother, Gabe,” he said by way of introduction. She nodded, but kept silent.

To Gabe, he answered, “A little accident with the lady’s car and the lake.”

“Casey told me the lake got in her way.” Gabe looked her over slowly, his expression inscrutable. “What’s wrong with her? And why aren’t you taking her to the hospital?”

“Because she doesn’t want to go.” Sawyer looked down at the woman’s bent head. She was shying away from Gabe, which was a phenomenon all in itself. Gabe was the most popular bachelor in Buckhorn. He smiled, and the women went all mushy and adoring, a fact Sawyer and his brothers taunted him with daily and an accolade Gabe accepted with masculine grace.

Of course Gabe wasn’t exactly smiling now, too concerned to do so. And the woman wasn’t even looking his way. She’d taken one peek at him, then scooted closer to Sawyer, touching him from shoulder to hip.

In almost one movement he lifted her into his lap and stepped out of the truck. He didn’t question his motives; he was a doctor and his first instinct was always to care for the injured or sick. She didn’t fight him. Instead, she tucked her face close to his throat and held on. Sawyer swallowed hard, moved by some insidious emotion he couldn’t name, but knew damn good and well he’d rather not be feeling. Gruffly, he ordered, “Casey, get a bed ready and fetch my bag.”

Casey hurried off, but Gabe kept stride beside him. “This is damn strange, Sawyer.”

“I know.”

“At least tell me if she’s hurt bad.”

“Mostly sick, I think, but likely a concussion, too.” He looked at his youngest brother. “If I can’t handle it here, we’ll move her to the hospital. But for now, if you’re done with the interrogation, I could use your help.”

One of Gabe’s fair brows shot up, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Doing what, exactly?”

“The lady had a lot of stuff in the back seat of her car. Can you go get it before it floats away in the lake or gets completely ruined? And get hold of Morgan to have her car towed out.” She lifted her head and one small hand fisted on his chest. Sawyer continued before she could protest, meeting her frantic gaze and silencing her with a look. “Don’t take it to the garage. Bring it here. We can put it in the shed.”

Gabe considered that a moment, then shook his head. “I hope you know what the hell you’re doing.”

Slowly, the woman looked away, hiding her face against him again. Sawyer went up the porch steps to the house. To himself, because he didn’t want to alarm anyone else, he muttered, “I hope so, too. But I have my doubts.”

IF SHE HAD her choice, Honey Malone would have stayed buried next to the warm, musky male throat and hidden for as long as possible. For the first time in over a week, she felt marginally safe, and she was in no hurry to face reality again, not when reality meant villains and threats, along with an aching head and a weakness that seemed to have invaded every muscle in her body. In varying degrees, she felt dizzy and her head throbbed. Every other minute, her stomach roiled. She couldn’t even think of food without having to suppress the urge to vomit. And she was so terribly cold, from the inside out.

At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep for a good long time.

But of course, she couldn’t.

It was beyond unfair that she’d get sick now, but she couldn’t lie to herself any longer. She was sick, and it was sheer dumb luck that she hadn’t killed herself, or someone else, in the wreck.

She still didn’t know if she could trust him. At first, he’d called her honey, and she thought he knew her name, thought he might be one of them. But he denied it so convincingly, it was possible she’d misunderstood. He’d certainly made no overt threat to her so far. All she knew for sure was that he was strong and warm and he said he only wanted to help her. While he held her, she couldn’t find the wit to object.

But then his strong arms flexed, and she found herself lowered to a soft bed. Her eyes flew open wide and she stared upward at him—until her head began to spin again. “Oh, God.” She dropped back, trying to still the spinning of the room.

“Just rest a second.”

More cautiously now, she peeked her eyes open. The man—Sawyer, he said his name was—picked up a white T-shirt thrown over the footboard and pulled it on. It fit him snugly, molding to his shoulders and chest. He wasn’t muscle-bound, but rather leanly cut, like an athlete. His wide solid shoulders tapered into a narrow waist. Faded jeans hugged his thighs and molded to his…

Face flaming, she looked down at the soft mattress he’d put her on. Her drenched, muddy jeans were making a mess of things. “The quilt—”

“Is an old one. Don’t worry about it. A little lake water isn’t going to hurt anything.” So saying, he pulled another quilt from the bottom of the bed and folded it around her chest, helping to warm her. She gratefully snuggled into it.

That taken care of, he looked over his broad shoulder to the door, and as if he’d commanded it, his son appeared, carrying a medical bag. Casey looked nonplussed to see where his father had put her. “Ah, Dad, I already got a bed ready for her, the one in the front room.”

Sawyer took the medical bag from Casey, then said, “This one will do.”

“But where will you sleep?”

On alert, Honey listened to the byplay between father and son. Casey was earnest, she could see that much in his young, handsome face, but Sawyer had his back to her so she could only guess at his expression.

“Casey, you can go help Gabe, now.”

“But—”

“Go on.”

Casey reluctantly nodded, casting a few quick glances at Honey. “All right. But if you need anything else—”

“If I do, I’ll holler.”

The boy went out and shut the door behind him. Nervously, Honey took in her surroundings. The room was gorgeous, like something out of a Home Show magazine. She’d never seen anything like it, and for the moment, she was distracted. Pine boards polished to a golden glow covered the floor, three walls and the ceiling. The furnishings were all rustic, but obviously high quality. Black-and-white checked gingham curtains were at the windows that took up one entire wall, accompanied by French doors leading out the back to a small patio. The wall of glass gave an incredible view of the lake well beyond.

There was a tall pine armoir, a dresser with a huge, curving mirror, and two padded, natural wicker chairs. In one corner rested a pair of snow skis and a tennis racket, in the other, several fishing poles. Assorted pieces of cloth-ing—a dress shirt and tie, a suit jacket, a pair of jeans—were draped over bedposts and chair backs. The polished dresser top was laden with a few bills and change, a small bottle of aftershave, some crumpled receipts and other papers, including an open book. It was a tidy room, but not immaculate by any measure.

And it was most definitely inhabited by a man. Sawyer. She gulped.

Summoning up some logic in what appeared a totally illogical situation, she asked, “What will your wife—”

“I don’t have a wife.”

“Oh.” She didn’t quite know what to think about that, considering he had a teenage son, but it wasn’t her place to ask, and she was too frazzled to worry about it, anyway.

“Your clothes are going to have to come off, you know.”

Stunned by his unreserved statement, she thought about laughing at the absurdity of it; that, or she could try to hide.

She was unable to work up enough strength for either. Her gaze met his. He stared back, and what she saw made her too warm, and entirely too aware of him as a man, even given the fact she was likely in his bedroom and at his mercy. She should have been afraid; she’d gotten well used to that emotion. But strangely, she wasn’t. “I—”

The door opened and a man stepped in. This one looked different than both Sawyer and the younger man, Gabe. Sawyer had dark, coal black hair, with piercing eyes almost the same color. His lashes were sinfully long and thick and, she couldn’t help noticing, he had a lot of body hair. Not too much, but enough that she’d taken notice. Of course, she’d spent several minutes pressed to that wide chest, so it would have been pretty difficult not to notice. And he’d smelled too good for description, a unique, heady scent of clean, male sweat and sun-warmed flesh and something more, something that had pervaded her muscles as surely as the weakness had.

Gabe, the one now fetching items from her car, was blond-haired and incredibly handsome. In his cutoffs, bare feet and bare chest, he’d reminded her of a beach bum.

His eyes, a pale blue, should have looked cool, but instead had seemed heated from within, and she’d naturally drawn back from him. His overwhelming masculinity made her uneasy, whereas Sawyer’s calm, controlled brand of machismo offered comfort and patience and rock steady security, which she couldn’t help but respond to as a woman. Accepting his help felt right, but the very idea alarmed her, too. She couldn’t involve anyone else in her problems.

Now this man, with his light brown hair and warm green eyes, exuded gentle curiosity and tempered strength. Every bit as handsome as the blond one, but in a more understated way, he seemed less of a threat. He looked at her, then to Sawyer. “Casey says we have a guest?”

“She ran her car into the lake. Gabe and Casey are off taking care of that now, getting as much of her stuff out of it as they can.”

“Her stuff?”

“Seems she was packed up and moving.” He flicked a glance at Honey, one brow raised. She ignored his silent question.

“Care to introduce me?”

Sawyer shrugged. He gestured toward her after he took a stethoscope out of his bag. “Honey, this is my brother Jordan.”

Jordan smiled at her. And he waited. Sawyer, too, watched her, and Honey was caught. He’d called her by name again, so why did he now look as if he was waiting for her to introduce herself? She firmed her mouth. After a second, Jordan frowned, then skirted a worried look at his brother. “Is she…?”

Sawyer sighed. “She can talk, but she’s not feeling well. Let’s give her a little time.”

Jordan nodded briskly, all understanding and sympathy. Then he looked down at the floor and smiled. “Well, hello there, honey. You shouldn’t be in here.”

Honey jumped, hearing her name again, but Jordan wasn’t speaking to her. He lifted a small calico cat into his arms, and she saw the animal had a bandaged tail. As Jordan stroked the pet, crooning to her in a soothing tone, the cat began a loud, ecstatic purring. Jordan’s voice was rough velvet, sexy and low, and Honey felt almost mesmerized by it. It was the voice of a seducer.

Good grief, she thought, still staring. Was every man in this family overflowing with raw sexuality?

“A new addition,” Jordan explained. “I found the poor thing on my office doorstep this morning.”

Rolling his eyes, Sawyer said to Honey, “My brother is a vet—and a sucker for every stray or injured animal that crosses his path.”

Jordan merely slanted a very pointed look at Honey and then said to Sawyer, “And you’re any different, I suppose?”

They both smiled—while Honey bristled. She didn’t exactly take to the idea of being likened to a stray cat.

“Jordan, why don’t you put the cat in the other room and fetch some tea for our guest? She’s still chilled, and from the sounds of her cough, her throat is sore.”

“Sure, no problem.”

But before he could go, another man entered, and Honey could do no more than stare. This man was the biggest of the lot, a little taller than even Sawyer and definitely more muscle-bound. He had bulging shoulders and a massive chest and thick thighs. Like Sawyer, he had black hair, though his was quite a bit longer and somewhat unruly. And his eyes were blue, not the pale blue of Gabe’s, but dark blue, almost like her own but more piercing, more intent. She saw no softness, no giving in his gaze, only ruthlessness.

He had a noticeable five o’clock shadow, and a stern expression that made her shiver and sink a little deeper into the bed.

Sawyer immediately stepped over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, letting her know it was okay, offering that silent comfort again. But she still felt floored when he said, “My brother Morgan, the town sheriff.”

Oh, God. A sheriff? How many damn brothers did this man have?

“Ignore his glare, honey. We pulled him from some unfinished business, no doubt, and he’s a tad…disgruntled.”

Jordan laughed. “Unfinished business? That wouldn’t be female business, would it?”

“Go to hell, Jordan.” Then Morgan’s gaze landed heavily on Honey, though he spoke to Sawyer. “Gabe called me. You mind telling me what’s going on?”

Honey was getting tired of hearing Sawyer explain. She looked up at him and asked in her rough, almost unrecognizable voice, “Just how many brothers do you have?”

Jordan smiled. “So she does have a voice.”

Morgan frowned. “Why would you think she didn’t?”

And Sawyer laughed. “She’s been quiet, Morgan, that’s all. She’s sick, a little disoriented and naturally wary of all of you overgrown louts tromping in and out.”

Then to Honey, he said, “There’s five of us, including my son, Casey. We all live here, and as it seems you’re going to stay put for a spell, too, it’s fortunate you’ve already met them all.”

His statement was received with varying reactions. She was appalled, because she had no intention at all of staying anywhere. It simply wasn’t safe.

Jordan looked concerned. Morgan looked suspicious.

And in walked Gabe, toting a box. “Nearly everything was wet by the time I got there, except this box of photos she had stashed in the back window. I figured it’d be safer in the house. Casey is helping to unload everything else from the truck, but it’s all a mess so we’re stowing it in the barn for now. And it looks like it might rain soon. It clouded up real quick. I think we’re in for a doozy.”

Honey glanced toward the wall of windows. Sure enough, the sky was rapidly turning dark and thick, purplish storm clouds drifted into view. Just what she needed.

Sawyer nodded. “Thanks, Gabe. If it starts to lightning, have Casey come in.”

“I already told him.”

“Morgan, can you get the county towing truck in the morning and pull her car out of the lake? I want to put it in the shed.”

Morgan rubbed his rough jaw with a large hand. “The shed? Why not Smitty’s garage so it can be fixed? Or do I even want to know?”

“It’s a long story, better explained after I find out what ails her. Which I can’t do until you all get the hell out of here.”

The brothers took the hint and reluctantly began inching out. Before they could all go, though, Sawyer asked, “Any dry clothes in her things, Gabe?”

“Nope, no clothes that I saw. Mostly it’s books, hair stuff…junk like that.” He dropped the box of framed photos on the floor in front of the closet.

“I don’t suppose any of you have a housecoat?”

Three snorts supplied his answer.

If Honey hadn’t been feeling so wretched, she would have smiled. And she definitely would have explained to Sawyer that the clothes she wore would have to do, because she wasn’t about to strip out of them.

“Any type of pajamas?”

He got replies of, “You’ve got to be kidding,” and, “Never use the things,” while Morgan merely laughed.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Honey thought, No, no, they’re not all telling me they sleep in the nude! She did her best not to form any mental images, but she was surrounded by masculine perfection in varying sizes and styles, and a picture of Sawyer resting in this very bed, naked as a Greek statue, popped into her brain. Additional heat swept over her, making her dizzy again. She could almost feel the imprint of his large body, and she trembled in reaction. She decided it was her illness making her muddled; she’d certainly never been so focused on her sexuality before. Now, she was acutely aware of it.

She opened her eyes and would have shaken her head to clear it, but she was afraid the motion would make her unsettled stomach pitch again.

Casey stuck his head into the room. “I have an old baseball jersey that’d fit her.”

“No, thank you—”

Sawyer easily overrode her. “Good. Bring it here.”

The brothers all looked at each other, grinning, then filed out. Sawyer leaned down close, hands on his hips, and gave her a pointed frown. “Now.”

“Now what?” All her worries, all the fears, were starting to swamp back in on her. She coughed, her chest hurting, her head hurting worse. She felt weak and shaky and vulnerable, which automatically made her defensive. “I’ll be fine. If…if Morgan would pull my car out, I’d be appreciative. I’ll pay you for your trouble….”

Sawyer interrupted, shaking his head and sitting on the side of the bed. “You’re not paying me, dammit, and you aren’t going anywhere.”

“But…”

“Honey, even if he gets your car out in the morning—and there’s no guarantee, figuring how it’s stuck in the mud and it looks like a storm’s on the way—but even if he did, the car will need repairs.”

“Then I’ll walk.”

“Now why would you wanna do that? Especially considering you can barely stand.” His tone turned gentle, cajoling. He produced a thermometer and slipped it under her tongue, making it impossible for her to reply. “We have plenty of room here, and you need someone to look after you until you’re well.”

She pulled out the thermometer. “It’s…it’s not safe.”

“For you?”

Honey debated for a long moment, considering all her options. But he was trying to help, and with every second that passed, she grew more tired. The bed was so soft, the quilt warm, if she was going to move, it had to be now before she got settled and no longer wanted to. She started to sit up, but Sawyer’s large, competent hands on her shoulders gently pressed her back on the bed.

Not bothering to hide his exasperation, he said, “Okay, this is how it’s going to be. You’re either going to tell me what’s going on, or I’m going to take you to the hospital. Which’ll it be?”

She searched his face, but the stubbornness was there, along with too much determination. She simply wasn’t up to fighting him. Not right now.

“It’s not safe because…” She licked her lips, considered her words, then whispered, “Someone is trying to hurt me.”

Sawyer stared at her, for the moment too stunned to speak.

“Is this something I should know about, Sawyer?” Morgan asked.

He almost groaned. Wishing he could remove the fear from her eyes, he gave her a wink, then turned to face his most difficult brother. “Eavesdropping, Morgan?”

“Actually, I was doing tea duty.” He lifted a cup and saucer for verification. “Hearing the girl’s confession was just a bonus.”

“It wasn’t a confession. She’s confused from—”

“No.” Trembling, she scooted upward on the bed, clutching the quilt to her chest. She chewed her lower lip, not looking at Morgan, but keeping her gaze trained on Sawyer. After a rough bout of coughing, she whispered, “I’m not confused, or making it up.”

Sawyer narrowed his eyes, perturbed by the sincerity in her tone and the way she shivered. If anything, she sounded more hoarse, looked more depleted. He needed to get the questions over with so he could medicate her, get her completely dry and let her rest. “Okay, so who would want to hurt you?”

“I don’t know.”

Morgan set the tea on the bedside table. “Why would anyone want to hurt you?”

Tears glistened in her eyes and she blinked furiously. One shoulder lifted, and she made a helpless gesture with her hand. “I…” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat roughly. Sawyer could tell how much she hated showing her vulnerability. “I don’t know.”

Agitated, Sawyer shoved Morgan away from where he loomed over her, then took up his own position sitting next to her on the bed. “Honey—”

The sky seemed to open up with a grand deluge of rain. It washed against the windows with incredible force. Within seconds the sky grew so dark it looked like midnight rather than early evening. Lightning exploded in a blinding flash, followed by a loud crack of thunder that made the house tremble and startled the woman so badly she jumped.

By reflex, Sawyer reached out to her, closing his hand over her shoulder, caressing her, soothing her. “Shh. Every-thing’s okay.”

A nervous, embarrassed laugh escaped her. “I’m sorry. I’m not normally so skittish.”

“You’re sick and you’re hurt.” Sawyer leveled a look on his brother. “And you aren’t going anywhere tonight, so put the thought from your head.”

Morgan promptly agreed, but the curling of his lips showed how amused he was by Sawyer’s possessive declaration. “Sure thing. We can sort everything out in the morning after you’re rested.” He slapped Sawyer on the shoulder. “Let the doc here fix you up. You’ll feel better in no time.”

Casey came in with the baseball jersey. “Sorry, it took me a little while to find it.”

Sawyer accepted the shirt. “Good. Now we can get you out of these wet clothes.”

Jordan lounged in the doorway, a small half-smile on his mouth. “Need any help?”

And once again, Sawyer had to shove them all out the door. You’d think they’d never seen an attractive woman before, the way they were carrying on, when in fact they all had more than their fair share of female adoration. But as Sawyer closed the door and turned back to her, seeing her lounged in his bed, her long hair spread out over his pillow, her wide, watchful gaze, he knew he was acting as out of sorts as the rest of them. Maybe more so. He’d just never been so damn aware of a woman, yet with this woman, he felt he could already read her gaze. And he strongly reacted to it.

That just wouldn’t do, not if he was going to be her doctor.

He laid the shirt on the foot of the bed, resolute. “Come on.” After pulling the damp quilt aside, he hooked his hands beneath her arms, lifted her, then proceeded to un-button the shirt he’d loaned her as if he did such things every day. She was silent for about half a second before suddenly coming to life. With a gasp, she began batting at his hands.

“I can do it!” she rasped in her rough, crackly voice.

He cradled her face in his palms. “Are you sure?”

For long seconds they stared at each other, and just as his heartbeat began to grow heavy, she nodded.

Pulling himself together, Sawyer sighed. “All right.” He suffered equal parts relief and disappointment. “Get those wet jeans off, and your panties, too. You’re soaked through to the skin and you need to be dry and warm. Leave your clothes there on the floor and I’ll run them through the wash.” He slid open a dresser drawer and retrieved his own dry jeans and shorts, then as he was reaching for the door to leave, he added, “I’ll wait right out here. Call me when you’re done or if you need help with anything.”

He stepped into the hallway and ran right into every single one of his brothers. Even his son was there, grinning like a magpie. He glared at them all while he unsnapped and unzipped his wet jeans. They smiled back. “Don’t you guys have something to do?”

“Yeah,” Gabe said with a wide grin. “We’re doing it.”

“At times you’re entertaining as hell, Sawyer,” Jordan added with a chuckle.

Sawyer shucked off his clothes, content to change in the middle of the hallway since they pretty much had him boxed in. He was annoyed as hell, but unwilling to let them all see it. As he stripped down to his skin, Gabe automatically gathered up the discarded clothes, helping without being asked. Then he handed them to Jordan who handed them to Morgan who looked around, saw no one else to give them to and tucked them under his arm.

After he was dressed again, Sawyer crossed his arms over his chest, returning their insolent looks. “And what’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

Morgan snorted. “Only that you’re acting like a buck in mating season. You’re looming over that poor woman like you think she might disappear at any minute. You’re so obvious, you might as well put your brand on her forehead.” Morgan pushed away from the wall and ran his hand through his hair. “The problem is, Sawyer, we don’t know who she is or what she’s hiding.”

Sawyer disregarded his brothers’ teasing remarks and frowned over their concerns. He didn’t need Morgan to tell him there were going to be complications with the woman. His own concern was heavy. “So what do you want me to do? Take her back to her car? Do you want to lock her up for the night until you fit all the pieces together? The woman is sick and needs care before her situation becomes critical.”

Casey frowned. “Is she really that bad off, Dad?”

Rubbing his neck, trying to relieve some of the mounting tension, Sawyer said, “I think she has bronchitis, possibly pneumonia. But I haven’t exactly had a chance to check her over yet.”

Just then every window in the house rattled with a powerful boom of thunder, and in the next second, the lights blinked out. It was dark in the hallway, and all the men started to grumble profanities—until they heard a thump and a short, startled female yelp of pain in the bedroom.

Sawyer reacted first, immediately reaching for the door-knob, then halting when he realized all his brothers intended to follow him in. One by one they plowed into him, crushing him against the door, muttering curses. Over his shoulder, Sawyer barked, “Wait here, dammit!” then hurried in, slamming the door in their curious faces.

The wall of windows in his room offered some light from the almost constant strobe of lightning, but not enough. He searched through the shadows until he located her, sitting on the floor by the bed. Her wide eyes glimmered in the darkness, appearing stunned.

But it was nothing compared to how Sawyer felt when he realized her damp jeans and silky panties were around her ankles—and her upper body was completely bare.

The breath froze in his lungs for a heartbeat, every muscle in his body clenching in masculine appreciation of the sweet, utterly vulnerable female sight she presented. Lightning flickered, illuminating her smooth, straight shoulders, her full round breasts. Her taut nipples. Her fair hair left silky trails down her body, flowing sensuously over and around her breasts. He felt the stirrings of a desire so deep it was nearly painful, and struggled to suppress his groan of instant need.

Then, with a small sound, she dropped her head forward in defeat and covered her face with her hands. That was all it took to shake him out of his sensual stupor. Determined, he started forward, dredging up full doctor mode while burying his instinctive, basic urges.

But one fact rang loud and clear in his head.

Damn, he was in deep—and he didn’t even know her name.

SHE WANTED TO DIE. To just curl up and give up and not have to worry about another thing. She felt beyond wretched, more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her life, getting more so with every second that passed, and she was so tired of worrying, of finding herself in impossible situations, giving up seemed the best option. She was just so damn weak, she couldn’t do anything.

So instead, she got obnoxious. Without raising her head, she asked, “Are you done gawking?” Her voice was a hideous thin croak, a mixture of illness, embarrassment and pain. It was all she could do to keep herself sitting upright.

“I’m sorry.” He crouched down and lifted her as if she weighed no more than the damn cat Jordan had been petting. Very gently, he placed her on the edge of the bed, then matter-of-factly skimmed her jeans and underwear the rest of the way off, leaving her totally bare. In the next instant, he tugged the jersey over her head. He treated her with all the attention and familiarity he might have given a small child, even smoothing down her hair. “There. That’s got to be more comfortable.”

His voice sounded almost as harsh as her own; she couldn’t quite return his smile.

After pulling back the covers, he raised her legs onto the mattress, pressed her back against the headboard with a pillow behind her, then said, “Wait right here while I get some light.”

He was gone only a moment, but from the time he stepped out into the hallway until he returned, she heard the drone of masculine voices, some amused, some concerned, some insistent.

God, what must they think of her? She was an intruder, a pathetic charity case, and she hated it.

Sawyer returned with an old-fashioned glass and brass lantern, a flashlight and a small plastic tote of medicine bottles. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the brothers’ curious gazes. For that, at least, she was thankful.

“Now, back to business.” He unloaded his arms next to the bed on the nightstand, turning up the lantern so that the soft glow of light spread out, leaving heavy shadows in all the corners of the room. “The town is so small, we lose electricity with nearly every storm. It’s not something we get too excited over. By morning the lights will be on.”

Morning?

He shook the thermometer, and again stuck it in her mouth. “Leave it there this time.”

Oh, boy. He was done with stalling, now operating in total efficiency status. Well, fine. She didn’t want to talk to him away. Talking took energy, which she didn’t have, and hurt her raw throat and made her stomach jumpier than it already was. She honestly didn’t know how much longer she could stay awake. Lethargy pulled at her, making her numb.

He approached again, sitting beside her on the bed. He was so warm, heat seemed to pour off him. He gave her a stern look. “I’m going to listen to your lungs. Just breathe normally through your nose, okay?”

She nodded, and he opened the neckline of the jersey and slipped his hand beneath. He didn’t look at her, staring at the far wall instead as if in deep concentration. But his wrist was hot, a burning touch against her sensitive skin, contrasting sharply with the icy coldness of the stethoscope.

She forgot to breathe, forgot everything but looking at his profile, at his too long, too thick lashes, his straight nose, his dark hair falling over his brow in appealing dis-array. The lantern light lent a halo to that dark hair and turned his skin into burnished bronze. His jaw was firm, his mouth sexy—

“Normal breaths, honey.”

Oh, yeah. She sucked in a lungful of air, accidentally filling her head with his delicious scent. She immediately suffered a coughing fit. Sawyer quickly retrieved the thermometer and looked at it with the flashlight. “Almost a hundred and two.” He frowned. “Can you sit forward just a second?”

Without waiting for her reply, he leaned her forward, propping her with his body, practically holding her in an embrace against that wide, strong chest. His arms were long and muscled, his body hard and so wonderfully warm. She wanted to snuggle into him but forced herself to hold perfectly still.

Again, he seemed oblivious to the intimacy of the situation.

She was far, far from oblivious.

He lifted the jersey to listen to her lungs through her back. Honey merely closed her eyes, too mortified to do much else. After a long moment, he made a sound of satisfaction.

He carefully leaned her back and recovered her with the quilt. “You’ve definitely got bronchitis, and if you’d gone on another day or two, you’d have likely ended up with pneumonia. On top of that, I’d be willing to bet you have a concussion.” He gently touched a bruised spot on her forehead with one finger. “You hit the steering wheel hard when the car dove into the lake. I suppose I can only be grateful you were wearing your seat belt.”

He sounded a bit censuring, but she nodded, so exhausted she no longer cared.

“Are you allergic to any medications?”

“No.”

“Can you swallow a pill okay?”

Again she nodded, words too difficult.

He started to say something else, then looked at her face and hesitated. He sighed. “Honey, I know this is hard for you. Being in a strange house with all these strange men wandering about, but—”

“Your brothers are a bit overwhelming,” she rasped in her thick voice, “but I wouldn’t exactly call them strange.”

He smiled. “Well, I would.” He raised his voice and shouted toward the door, “I’d call them strange and obnoxious and overbearing and rude!”

Honey heard one of the brothers—she thought it was Gabe—shout back, “I know a lot of women who’d object to the obnoxious part!” and a hum of low masculine laughter followed.

Sawyer chuckled. “They mean well. But like me, they’re concerned.”

He patted her knee beneath the quilt, then handed her the tea. “You can swallow your pills with this. It’s barely warm now.”

Honey frowned at the palm full of pills he produced. After all, she didn’t really know him, and yet she was supposed to trust him. Even knowing she had no choice, she still hesitated.

Patiently, he explained, “Antibiotics and something for the pain. You’ll also need to swallow some cough medicine.”

“Wonderful.” She threw all the pills down in one gulp, then swallowed almost the entire cup of tea, leaving just enough to chase away the nasty taste of the cough liquid he insisted she take next. Whoever had made the tea went heavy on the sugar—which suited her just fine.

Sawyer took the cup from her and set it aside, then eyed her closely. “The door next to the closet is a half bath. Do you need to go?”

Why didn’t she simply expire of embarrassment? She was certainly due. “No,” she croaked, then thought to add, “thank you.”

He didn’t look as if he quite believed her, but was reluctant to force the issue. “Well, if you do, just let me know so I can help you. I don’t want you to get up and fall again.”

Yeah, right. Not in this lifetime. That was definitely a chore she would handle on her own—or die trying. “I’m fine, really. I’m just so tired.”

Sawyer stood and began pulling the quilts off her. They were damp, so she didn’t protest, but almost immediately she began to shiver. Seconds later he recovered her with fresh blankets from the closet. He laid two of them over her, tucking her in until she felt so cozy her body nearly shut down.

“Go on to sleep. I’ll come back in a couple of hours to check on you—because of the concussion,” he added, when she blinked up at him. “I’m sorry, honey, but I’ll have to wake you every hour or two just to make certain you’re okay. All you’ll have to do is open those big blue eyes and say hi, all right?”

“All right.” She didn’t really like the idea, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink now, worrying about when he’d come in, if she’d be snoring, if she’d even make sense. Usually she slept like the dead, and very little could disturb her, but since this had started she’d been so worried, and she’d had to be on her guard at all times.

At least now she could rest in peace and quiet for a while, and that was more than she’d had recently.

Sawyer tucked a curl of hair behind her ear and smoothed his big thumb over her cheek. The spontaneous, casual touches disconcerted her. They weren’t what she was used to and she didn’t quite know what to think of them. He acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to pet her, which probably meant it was merely his way and had no intimate connotations attached. He was, after all, a doctor.

Still, his touch felt very intimate to Honey. Like a lover’s caress.

“Holler if you need anything,” he said gently. “The family room is close enough so one of us will hear you.”

He moved the lantern to the dresser top and turned it down very low, leaving just enough light so she wouldn’t wake disoriented in the strange room. Outside, the storm still raged with brilliant bursts of light and loud rumbling thunder.

He picked up the flashlight and damp quilts and went out, leaving the door open a crack. Honey rolled slowly to her side and stacked her hands beneath her cheek. His bed was so comfortable, the blankets so soft and cozy. And it smelled like him, all masculine and rich and sexy. Her eyes drifted shut, and she sighed. Sleep would be wonderful, but she really didn’t dare. As soon as the storm let up, she had to think about what to do.

Sawyer was a nice man. His whole family was nice; she couldn’t put them at risk, couldn’t take advantage of their generosity and their trusting nature. She supposed she could call a cab to take her into town and buy another used car there. The one she’d been driving didn’t have much value anyway, hardly worth repairing.

But her stuff. They’d unloaded everything into the barn, Gabe said. She hadn’t even noticed a barn, and if she found it, could she retrieve everything without alerting them to her intentions? She had no doubt they’d feel honor bound to detain her, thanks to her illness.

She just didn’t know what to do. Since she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep, she figured she had plenty of time to come up with a plan.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER Sawyer peeked in on her—again. He couldn’t quite seem to pull his gaze away for more than a few minutes, and his thoughts wouldn’t budge from her at all. She was in his bed—and he knew it, on every level imaginable.

It had taken her less than two minutes to fall deeply asleep, and since then, he’d been checking her every few minutes, drawn by the sight of her cuddled so naturally, so trustingly in his bed. He leaned in the door frame, watching her sleep, enthralled by the way the gentle lantern light played over the curves and hollows of her body.

“She doin’ okay?”

Sawyer quickly pulled the door shut as he turned to face Jordan. “She’s asleep, and her breathing sounds just a little easier. But she’s still really sick. I think she needs some rest more than anything else. She’s plain wore out.”

“If you want, we can all spell you a turn on waking her up through the night.”

“No.”

Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “Sawyer, it’s dumb for you to do it alone. We could—”

“I’m the doctor, Jordan, so I’ll do it.” He was determined to get his brother’s mind off altruistic motives and away from the room. “The rest of you don’t need to worry. It’s under control.”

Jordan studied him a long minute before finally shrugging. “Suit yourself. But I swear, you’re acting damn strange.”

Sawyer didn’t refute that. His behavior did seem odd, considering his brother didn’t know why he was so insistent. But when Jordan walked away, Sawyer again opened the door where she slept. Nope, he didn’t want his brothers seeing her like this.

The little lady slept on her stomach, and she kept kicking her covers off; the jersey had ridden to her waist.

Damn, but she had a nice backside. Soft, white, perfectly rounded. The kind of backside that would fit a man’s hands just right. His palms tingled at the thought, and his fingers flexed the tiniest bit.

With a small appreciative smile, Sawyer once again covered her. At least her fever must be lower, or she’d still be chilled deep inside. The fact she felt comfortable enough not to need the blankets proved the medicine was doing its job. Still, he touched her forehead, smoothed her hair away, then forced himself to leave the room.

When he walked out this time he ran into Morgan.

“We need to talk.”

Sawyer eyed his brother’s dark countenance. He’d have been worried, except Morgan pretty much always looked that way. “If you’re going to offer your help, don’t bother. I’m more than able to—”

“Nope. I figure if you want to hover all night over the little darling, that’s your business. But I want to show you something.”

For the first time, Sawyer noticed Morgan was gripping a woman’s purse in his fist. “Our guest’s?”

“Yep. I decided I didn’t like all this secretive business, and being she’s staying here, I was fully justified—”

“You snooped, didn’t you?”

Morgan tried to look affronted and failed. “Just took a peek at her wallet for I.D. I’m a sheriff, and I had just cause with all this talk of someone hunting her and such.”

“And?” Sawyer had to admit to his own overwhelming curiosity. He wondered if the name would match the woman. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“You won’t believe this, but it’s Honey Malone.” Morgan chuckled. “Damn, she sounds just like a female mobster, doesn’t she?”

It took Sawyer two seconds before he burst out laughing. Honey. No wonder she thought he knew her name. He was still grinning when Morgan poked him.

“It’s not that funny.”

“Ah, but it is! Especially when you know the joke.”

“But you’re not going to share it?”

Sawyer shook his head. “Nope. At least, not until I’ve shared it with Miss Malone.”

Since he had the arrogant habit of refusing ever to let anyone rile him, Morgan merely shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you should also know I braved this hellish rain to run out to the car radio and run a check on her. Nothing, from either side of the law. No priors, no complaints, no signed statements. If someone is trying to hurt her, the police don’t know a damn thing about it.”

Sawyer worked that thought over in his mind, then shook his head. “That could mean several things.”

“Yeah, like she’s making it all up.” Morgan hesitated, but as he turned to walk away, he added, “Or she’s more rattled than you first thought and is delusional. But either way, Sawyer, be on your guard, okay?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“No.” Morgan pointed at him and chuckled. “But you are acting like a man out to stake a claim. Don’t let your gonads overrule your common sense.”

Sawyer glared, but Morgan hadn’t waited around to see it. Ridiculous. So he was attracted to her, so what? He was human, and he’d been attracted to plenty of women in his day. Not quite this attracted, not quite this…consumed. But it didn’t matter. He had no intentions of getting involved any more than necessary to get her well. She was a patient, and he’d treat her as such. Period.

But even as he thought it, he opened the door again, drawn by some inexplicable need to be near her.

Damn, but she looked sweet resting there in his bed. Incredibly sweet and vulnerable.

And once again, she’d kicked the blanket away.

HONEY WOKE slowly and struggled to orient herself to the sensation of being in strange surroundings. Carefully, she queried her senses, aware of birds chirping in near rapture, the steady drone of water dripping outside and a soft snore. Yet she was awake.

Her throat felt terrible, and she swallowed with difficulty, then managed to get her heavy eyes to open a tiny bit. As soon as she did, she closed them again against a sharp pain in her head. She held her breath until the pain ebbed, easing away in small degrees.

Her body felt weighted down, warm and leaden, and a buzzing filled her head. It took a lot of effort to gather her wits and recall where she was and why.

She was on her stomach, a normal position for her, and this time she opened her eyes more carefully, only a slit, and let them adjust to the dim light filtering into the room. As her eyes focused on the edge of a blanket, pulled to her chin, she shifted, but her legs didn’t want to move. Confused, she peered cautiously around the room. The rain, only a light drizzle now, left glittering tracks along the wall of windows, blurring the image of the lake beyond and the fog rising from it. The gutters must have been overloaded because they dripped steadily, the sound offering a lulling, soporific effect. The day was gray, but it was definitely morning, and the birds seemed to be wallowing in the freshness of it, singing their little hearts out.

Frowning, she looked away from the windows, and her gaze passed over Sawyer, then snapped back. She almost gasped at the numbing pain that quick eye movement caused.

Then she did moan as the sight of him registered.

Wearing nothing more than unsnapped jeans, he lounged in a padded wicker chair pulled close at an angle to the foot of the bed. His long legs were stretched out, his bare feet propped on the edge of the mattress near her waist pinning her blankets in place. No wonder her legs didn’t want to move. They couldn’t, not with his big feet keeping her blankets taut.

She remembered him waking her several times throughout the night, his touch gentle, his voice low and husky as he insistently coaxed her to respond to him, to answer his questions. Her skin warmed with the memory of his large hands on her body, smoothing over her, resettling her blankets, lifting her so she could take a drink or swallow another pill.

She warmed even more as she allowed her eyes to drink in the sight of him. Oh, she was awake now. Wide awake. Sawyer had that effect on her, especially when he was more naked than not, available to her scrutiny. He was a strong man, confident, even arrogant in his abilities. But there was an innate gentleness in his touch, and an unwavering serenity in his dark eyes.

The muscles of his chest and shoulders were exaggerated by the long shadows. She felt cool in the rainy, predawn morning, yet he looked warm and comfortable in nothing more than his jeans. His abdomen, hard and flat, had a very enticing line of downy black hair bisecting it, dipping into those low-fitting jeans. Her heart rate accelerated, her fingers instinctively curling into the sheets as she thought about touching him there, feeling how soft that hair might be and how hard the muscles beneath it were.

One of his elbows was propped on the arm of the chair, offering a fist as a headrest. His other arm dangled off the side of the chair, his hand open, his fingers slack. He was deeply asleep, and even in his relaxed state his body looked hard and lean and too virile for a sane woman to ignore. He appeared exhausted, and no wonder after caring for her all night. She studied his whisker-roughened face a moment, then gave in to temptation and visually explored his body again. A soft sigh escaped her.

She needed a drink. She needed the bathroom. But she could be happy just lying there looking at him for a long, long time.

“G’mornin’.”

With a guilty start, her attention darted back to his face. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his thick black lashes at half-mast, his dark gaze glittering at her. Honey closed her own eyes for a moment, trying to get her bearings. His voice had been low, sleepy, sexy.

Ahem. “Good morning.” The words, which she’d meant to be crisp, sounded like a faint, rusty impersonation.

Sawyer tilted his head. “Throat still sore?”

She nodded, peeking a glance at him and quickly looking away again. “You’re, ah, pinning my blankets down.”

She heard the amusement in his tone when he murmured, “Yeah, I know.”

Then he dragged his feet off the bed and stood and stretched—right there in front of her, putting on an impressive display of flexing muscle and sinew and masculine perfection. Without even thinking about it, she rolled to her back to watch him, keeping her blankets high.

With one arm over his head, she saw the dark silky hair beneath his arm, the way his biceps bulged, and she heard his growled rumble of pleasure. As he stretched, his abdomen pulled tighter and the waistband of his jeans curled away from his body. Her vision blurred. He ran both hands through his hair and over his face, then he smiled.

She tried to smile back, she really did. But then he scratched his belly, drawing her gaze there, and she saw that his jeans rode even lower on his slim hips and that his masculine perfection had changed just a tad. Okay, more than a tad. A whole lot more.

He had an erection.

She didn’t exactly mean to stare, but since he was standing only a foot away from the bed and she was lying down and he was so close, it was rather hard to ignore. Heat bloomed in her belly, making her toes curl.

He reached out and placed a warm palm on her forehead. “Your fever seems to be down. Luckily, the electricity came on in the middle of the night, otherwise, without the air-conditioning, the house would have been muggy as hell. If this rain ever stops, they’re predicting a real scorcher, and with you being sick I’d hate for you to suffer through the heat, too.” He smoothed her hair away from her set face, looking at her closely. “You want to use the john?”

She was so flustered by his good-natured chatter in light of her lascivious thoughts, she couldn’t answer, even though her situation was beginning to get critical.

He solved the problem for her. Whisking the covers aside, he hooked one arm behind her and levered her upright. She scrambled to get the jersey shirt pulled down over her hips, covering her decently. He didn’t seem to notice her predicament.

“Come on. I’ll help you in, then wait out here.”

She didn’t want him waiting anywhere, but he hustled her out of the bed and toward the bathroom, holding her closely, not really giving her time to think about it. He walked her right up to the toilet, then cautiously let her go. “If you need anything, don’t be too squeamish to call out, okay?”

Never, not in a million years. She stared at him, blinked twice, then nodded, just to get him out of the room. With a smile and a touch to her cheek, he backed out and pulled the door shut.

Even in her dazed state, Honey was able to appreciate the incredibly beautiful design of the bathroom. Done in the same polished pine but edged with black ceramic tile, it looked warm and masculine and cozy. The countertops were white with black trim, and there was a shower stall but no tub, a black sink, and a small blocked window with the same black-checked gingham curtains. Amazing that a household of men would have such a nice, clean, well-designed home.

After she’d taken care of business, Honey washed her hands, splashed her face and took a long drink of water. She looked at herself in the round etched mirror over the sink and nearly screamed. She looked horrid. Her hair was tangled, her face pale, the bruise on her forehead providing her only color, and that in shades of gray and purple and green. God, she looked as sickly as she felt, and that was saying a lot!

She glanced longingly at the shower, but then she heard Sawyer ask impatiently, “Everything okay?”

It would take more time and effort than she could muster to make herself look any better. With a sigh, she edged her way to the door, holding on to the sink for support. She barely had the door open and he was there, tall, shirtless, overwhelmingly potent. Without a word he wrapped his arm around her and practically carried her back to the bed.

He tucked her in, then asked, “Would you like some tea or coffee?”

Her mouth watered. Now that she wasn’t so tired, she noticed other needs, and hot coffee sounded like just the thing to clear out the cobwebs and relieve her sore throat. “I’d kill for coffee.”

“When you don’t have the strength to swat a fly? Never mind. Nothing so drastic is necessary. The coffee is already on. Morgan and Gabe are both early risers, so one of them has already seen to it because I smell it. Cream and sugar?”

“Please.”

He started to turn away, and she said, “Sawyer?”

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Hmm?”

“My things…”

“They’re safe. Gabe and Casey got everything stored in the barn before the worst of the storm hit, but if you like, I’ll check on them after I’ve dressed.”

After he’d dressed. The fact of his partial nudity flustered her again, and she felt herself blush. She’d simply never been treated to the likes of a man like him before. Her experiences were with more…subtle men. Sawyer without his shirt was more enticing, more overpowering, than most men would have been buck naked.

She cleared her sore throat. “I’d really like my toothbrush. And…and I’d dearly love to shower and get the lake water off—”

“I dunno.” He gave her a skeptical look and frowned. “Let’s see how you do after eating a little, okay? I don’t want you to push it. You still sound like a bullfrog, and I’m willing to bet you have a bit of a fever yet. But first things first. Let me get the coffee. It’ll make your throat feel better.”

His peremptory manner set her on edge. Straightening her shoulders as much as she could while lying huddled beneath a layer of blankets, she groused, “It’s not up to you to decide what I can or can’t do.”

He halted in mid stride and slowly turned to face her. The intensity of his dark gaze almost made her squirm, but after a good night’s rest, she felt emotionally stronger, if not physically, and she couldn’t continue to let him baby her or dictate to her. Now was as good a time as any to assert herself.

Tilting his head, he said, “Actually—I can.”

“No—”

He stalked forward, startling her with the suddenness of it. His bare feet didn’t make a sound on the polished flooring, but he might have been stomping for the expression on his face. Bracing one hand on the headboard and the other on the pillow by her cheek, he leaned down until their noses almost touched. Her head pressed into the pillow, but there was no place to retreat to, no way to pull back.

His breath touched her as he studied her face. “You’re seriously ill, and I didn’t stay up all night checking on you just so you could turn stubborn this morning and set yourself on a decline.”

She mustered her courage and frowned up at him. “I know I’m not a hundred percent well, but—”

He made a rude sound to that statement. “It’s a wonder you even made it to the bathroom on your own. I can tell just looking at your flushed cheeks and lips that you still have a fever. What you need is plenty of rest and medicine and liquids.”

She hated to sound vain, so the words came out in a rough, embarrassed whisper. “I smell like the lake.”

At first his brows lowered and he stared at her. Then, almost against his will it seemed, he leaned closer and his nose nearly touched her throat beneath her ear. She sucked in a startled breath, frozen by his nearness, his heat, the sound of his breathing. He nuzzled gently for just a moment, then slowly leaned away again, and his gaze traveled down her throat to her chest and beyond, then came back to her face, and there was a new alertness to his expression, a sensual hardness to his features.

She swallowed roughly and croaked, “Well?” trying to hide the effect he’d had on her, trying, and failing, to be as cavalier.

His lips twitched, though his eyes still looked hot and far too intent. He touched her cheek, then let his hand fall away. “Not a single scent of lake, I promise. Quit worrying about it.”

She couldn’t quit worrying, not when he stayed so close. And she knew a shower would revive her spirits, which she needed so she could think clearly. She tried a different tack. “I’m not used to going all day without a shower. I’ll feel better after I clean up.”

He continued to loom over her, watching her face, then finally he sighed. “Somehow I doubt that, but then, what do I know? I’m just the doctor.” When she started to object, he added, “If you feel such a strong need to get bathed, fine. I’ll help you, and no, don’t start shaking your head at me. I’m not leaving you alone to drown yourself.”

“You’re also not watching me bathe!”

He started to grin, but rubbed his chin quickly instead. “No, of course not. The shower is out because I doubt you could stand that long. And as wobbly as you seem when you’re on your feet, I’m not taking the chance. But this afternoon, after I’ve seen a few patients, I’ll take you to the hall bath. We have a big tub you can soak in. By then I’ll have your clothes run through the washer, and you can wear your own things. We’ll manage, I think.”

Worse and worse. “Sawyer, I don’t want you doing my laundry.”

“There’s no one else, Honey. Morgan has to go into the office today, and Jordan is making a few housecalls. Casey has never quite learned the knack of doing laundry, though I’m working on him, and if I know Gabe, he’ll be off running around somewhere.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded, then shook her head. “Let me clarify. I don’t want any of you doing my laundry.”

“The clothes you came in are wet and muddy. By now, they probably do smell like the lake. Unless you want to continue living in Casey’s shirt, someone needs to do it, and you’re certainly not up to it.” She started to speak, and he held up a hand. “Give over, will you? I doubt doing a little laundry will kill me. If it did, I’d have been dead a long time ago.”

She seemed to have no options at all. With a sigh, she said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

His continued good humor made her feel like a nag. Trying to get back to a more neutral subject, she asked, “Do you see patients every day?”

He straightened from the bed. “Don’t most doctors?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Well, they do. You can take my word on it. Illness has no respect for weekends or vacations. And since I’m the only doctor around for miles, I’ve gotten used to it.”

Nervously pleating the edge of the blanket, she wondered if this might be her best chance to slip away. It was for certain if he didn’t want her up to shower, he wouldn’t want her up to leave on her own. “Do you have an office close by?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Very close.”

“Oh?” She tried to sound only mildly interested.

“You’re not going anywhere, Honey.”

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

“Don’t look so shocked. I could see you plotting and planning.”

“But…how?” She’d kept her expression carefully hidden. At least, she thought she had.

“I can read you.”

“You don’t even know me!”

He looked disgruntled by that fact. “Yeah, well, for whatever reason, I know you well enough already to see how your mind works. What’d you think to do? Hitchhike into town when we were all away from the house?”

She hadn’t, simply because she hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. But it might not have been a bad idea. She’d be able to tell by the license plates if the driver was local or not, ridding the risk of being picked up by the people who were after her.

When she remained quiet, he shook his head and muttered, “Women.” He went out the door without another word, and Honey let him. She had a lot to think about. This might be her only chance to save Sawyer and his family from getting involved. She’d left in the first place to protect her sister. The last thing she wanted to do was get someone else in trouble.

Especially such an incredible man as Sawyer.

SAWYER TAPPED on the door and then walked in. Honey was in the bed, her head turned to the window. She seemed very pensive, but she glanced at him as he entered. He saw her face perk up at the sight of the tray he carried.

Grinning, he asked, “So you’re hungry?”

She slid higher in the bed. “Actually…yes. What have you got there?”

He set the tray holding the coffee and other dishes on the dresser and carried another to her, opening the small legs on the tray so it fit over her lap. “Gabe had just pulled some cinnamon rolls from the oven, so they’re still hot. I thought you might like some.”

“Gabe cooks?”

Sawyer handed her the coffee, then watched to make sure it was to her liking. Judging by the look of rapture on her face as she sipped, it was just right. “We all cook. As my mom is fond of saying, she didn’t raise no dummies. If a man can’t cook, especially in a household devoid of women, he goes hungry.”

She’d finished half the cup of coffee right off so he refilled her cup, adding more sugar and cream, then gave her a plate with a roll on it. The icing had oozed over the side of the roll, and she quickly scooped up a fingerful, then moaned in pleasure as she licked her finger clean.

Sawyer stilled, watching her and suffering erotic images that leaped into his tired, overtaxed brain. His reactions to her were getting way out of hand. Of course, they’d been out of hand since he’d first seen her. And last night, when she kept kicking the covers away, he’d almost gone nuts. Pinning them down with his feet had been a form of desperate self-preservation.

He hadn’t had such a volatile reaction to a woman in too many years to count. No, he’d never been entirely celibate, but he had always been detached. Now, with this woman who remained more a stranger than otherwise, he already felt far too involved.

He cleared his throat, enthralled by the appreciative way she savored the roll. “Good?”

“Mmm. Very. Give my regards to the chef.”

She sounded so sincere, he almost laughed. “It’s just a package that you bake. But Gabe really can do some great cooking when he’s in the mood. Usually everyone around here grabs a snack first thing in the morning, then around eight they hit Ceily’s diner and get breakfast.”

“If they can cook, why not eat here?”

He liked it that she was more talkative today, and apparently more at ease. “Well, let’s see. Gabe goes to town because that’s what he always does. He sort of just hangs out.”

Her brows raised. “All the time?”

With a shrug, he admitted, “That’s Gabe. He’s a handy-man extraordinaire—his title, not mine—so he’s never without cash. Someone’s always calling on him to fix something, and there’s really nothing he can’t fix.” Including her car, though Sawyer hadn’t asked him to fix it. Not yet. “He keeps busy when he wants. And when he doesn’t, he’s at the lake, lolling in the sun like a big fish.”

Gabe stuck his head in the door to say, “I resent that. I bask, I do not loll. That makes me sound lazy.”

Sawyer saw Honey gulp the bite in her mouth and almost choke as she glanced up at his brother. As a concession to their guest, Gabe had pulled on frayed jean shorts rather than walking around in his underwear. He hoped Jordan and Morgan remembered to do the same. They each had more than enough female companionship, but never overnight at the house, so they were unused to waking with a woman in residence.

Gabe hadn’t shaved yet, and though he had on a shirt, it wasn’t buttoned so his chest was mostly bare. Sawyer shook his head at his disreputable appearance. “You are lazy, Gabe.”

Gabe smiled at Honey. “He’s just jealous because he has so much responsibility.” Then to Sawyer, “Now, if I was truly lazy, would I plan on fixing the leak in your office sink this morning?”

Sawyer hesitated, pleased, then took a sip of coffee before nodding. “Yeah, you would, considering you can’t go to the lake because it’s raining.”

“Not true. The best fishing is done in the rain.”

He couldn’t debate that. “Are you really going to fix the sink?”

“Sure. You said it’s leaking under the cabinet?”

Sawyer started to explain the exact location of the leak, but Honey interrupted, asking, “Where is his office?”

Gabe hitched his head toward the end of the hallway. “At the back of the house. He and my dad built it on there after he got his degree and opened up his own practice. ‘Course, I helped because Sawyer is downright pathetic with a hammer. He can put in tiny stitches, but he has a hell of a time hitting a nail or cutting a board straight.”

Honey carefully set down her last bite of roll. “Your dad?”

“Yep. He’s not a military man, like Sawyer’s dad was, but he is a pretty good handyman, just not as good as me.”

Standing, Sawyer headed toward Gabe, forcing him to back out of the doorway. He could see the questions and the confusion on Honey’s face, but it was far too early for him to go into long explanations on his family history. “Go on and let her drink her coffee in peace.”

Gabe put on an innocent face, but laughter shone in his eyes. “I wasn’t bothering her!”

“You were flirting.”

“Not that she noticed.” He grinned shamefully. “She was too busy watching you.”

That sounded intriguing—not that he intended to dwell on it or to do anything about it. Likely she watched him because he was the one most responsible for her. “I’ll be at the office after I’ve showered and gotten dressed.”

“All right. I’ll go get my tools together.”

Sawyer stepped back into the room and shut the door, then leaned against it. Just as Gabe had mentioned, Honey watched him, her blue eyes wide and wary. He nodded at her unfinished roll. “You done?”

“Oh.” She glanced down at the plate as if just remembering it was there. “Yes.” She wiped her fingers on the napkin he’d provided and patted her mouth. “Thank you. That was delicious. I hadn’t realized I was so hungry.”

Eating less than one cinnamon roll qualified as hungry? He grunted. “More coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Her continued formality and good manners tickled him. Here she was, bundled up in his bed, naked except for his son’s jersey, and with every other word she said please. She still sounded like a rusty nail on concrete, but she didn’t look as tense as she had last night. Probably the need for sleep had been more dire than anything else. As he refilled her cup, emptying the carafe, he said, “I have spare toothbrushes in my office. If you’d like, I can give you one. I’d go get yours, but I’m not sure which box it’s in.”

“I’m not sure, either.”

“Okay, then. I’ll fetch you one in a bit.” He finished his own coffee while leaning on the dresser, looking at her. “Before I start getting ready for my day, you want to tell me who you are?”

She went so still, it alarmed him. He set down his empty cup and folded his arms over his chest. “Well?”

“I think,” she muttered, not quite meeting his gaze, “that it’ll be simpler all around if I don’t involve you.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Trust a man I’ve known one day?”

“Why not? I haven’t done anything to hurt you, have I?”

“No. It’s not that. It’s just…Sawyer, I can’t stay here. I don’t want to endanger you or your son or your brothers.”

That was so ludicrous he laughed. And her lack of trust, regardless of the time limits, unreasonably annoyed him. “So you think one little scrawny woman is better able to defend herself than four men and a strapping fifteen-year-old?”

Her mouth firmed at his sarcasm. “I don’t intend to get into a physical battle.”

“No? You’re going to just keep running from whatever the hell it is you’re running from?”

“That’s none of your business,” she insisted.

His jaw clenched. “Maybe not, but it would sure simplify the hell out of things if you stopped being so secretive.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. Sawyer felt like a bully. Just because she’d sat up and eaten a little didn’t mean she was up to much more than that. He sighed in disgust—at himself and her—then pushed away from the dresser to remove the tray from her lap.

She glanced at him nervously. “I…I don’t mean to make this more difficult.”

He kept his back to her, not wanting her to see his frown. “I realize that. But you’re going to have to tell me something sooner or later.”

A heavy hesitation filled the air. Then he heard her draw in her breath. “No, I don’t. My plans don’t concern you.”

Everything in him fought against the truth of her words. “You landed in my lake.”

“And I offered to pay for the damages.”

He turned to face her, his muscles tense. “Forget the damn damages. I’m not worried about that.”

She looked sad and resolute. “But payment for the damages is all I owe you. I didn’t ask to be brought here. I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You got it anyway.” He stalked close again, unable to keep the distance between them. “No respectable man would leave a sick, frightened woman alone in a rainstorm. Especially a woman who was panicked and damn near delusional.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You slugged my son. You were afraid of me.”

She winced again, then worried her bottom lip between her teeth. His heart nearly melted, and that angered him more than anything else. He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hands in his. “Honey, you can trust me. You can trust us.” She didn’t quite meet his gaze, staring instead at his throat. “The best thing now is to tell me what’s going on so I know what to expect.”

She looked haunted as her gaze met his, but she also looked strong, and he wasn’t surprised when she whispered, “Or I can leave.”

They stared at each other, a struggle of wills, and with a soft oath Sawyer stood and paced away. Maybe he was pushing too fast. She needed time to reason things through. He’d wear her down, little by little. And if that didn’t work, he’d have Morgan start an investigation—whether she liked it or not.

One thing was certain. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight until he knew it was safe.

With his back to her, his hands braced on the dresser, he said, “Not yet.”

“You can’t keep me here against my will.”

“Wanna bet?” He felt like a bastard, but his gut instincts urged him to keep her close regardless of her insistence. “Morgan is the town sheriff, and he heard everything you said. If nothing else, he’d want to keep you around for questioning. I’m willing to give you some time. But until you’re ready to explain, you’re not going anywhere.”

He could feel her staring at his back, feel the heat of her anger. She wasn’t nearly so frail as he’d first thought, and she had more gumption than the damn old mule Jordan kept out in the pasture.

Despite the raspiness of her voice, he heard her disdain when she muttered, “And you wanted me to trust you.”

His hand fisted on the dresser, but he refused to take the bait. He pulled open a drawer and got out a pair of shorts, saying over his shoulder, “I need to shower and get dressed before patients start showing up. Why don’t you just go on back to sleep for a spell? Maybe things’ll look a little different this afternoon.”

He saw her reflection in the mirror, the way her eyes were already closing, shutting him out. He wanted to say something more, but he couldn’t. So instead he walked away, and he closed the door behind him very softly.

SHE SLEPT the better part of the day. After taking more medicine and cleaning up as much as she could using the toothbrush he provided and the masculine-scented soap in the bathroom, she simply konked out. One minute she’d been disgruntled because he was rushing her back to bed, and the next she was sound asleep. Sawyer roused her once to take more ibuprofen and sip more water, but she barely stirred enough to follow his directions. He held her head up with one hand, aware of the silkiness of her heavy hair and the dreamy look in her sleepy eyes. She smiled at him, too groggy to remember her anger.

Fortunately for him, since he couldn’t stay by her side, she hadn’t kicked off her blankets again. He’d worried about it, and gone back and forth from his office to her room several times during the day, unable to stay away. After Casey had finished up his chores, he promised to stay close in case she called out.

She hadn’t had any lunch, and it was now nearing dinnertime. When Sawyer entered the room, he saw his son sitting on the patio through the French doors. He had the small cat with him that Jordan had brought home. Using a string, he enticed the cat to pounce and jump and roll.

This time Honey was on her back, both arms flung over her head. He could see her legs were open beneath the covers. She was sprawled out, taking up as much room as her small body could in the full-size bed. In his experience, most women slept curled up, like a cat, but not Honey. A man would need a king-size bed to accommodate her.

He was still smiling when he stepped outside with Casey. “She been sleeping okay?”

“Like the dead.” Casey glanced up at him, then yelped when the cat attacked his ankle. “She looks like someone knocked her out, doesn’t she? I’ve never seen anyone sleep so hard. The cat got loose and jumped up on the bed and before I could catch her, she’d been up one side and down the other, but the woman never so much as moved.”

“She’s a sound sleeper, and I think she was pretty exhausted, besides. Thanks for keeping a watch on her.”

Sawyer saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. Honey was propped up on one elbow, her hair hanging forward around her face, her eyes squinted at the late afternoon sunshine. Most of the day it had continued to drizzle, and now that the sun was out, the day was so humid you could barely draw a deep breath.

Honey looked vaguely confused, so he went in to her. Casey followed with the cat trailing behind.

“Hello, sleepyhead.”

She looked around as if reorienting herself. The small cat made an agile leap onto the bed, then settled herself in a semicircle at the end of Honey’s feet, tucking her bandaged tail in tight to sleep. Honey stared at the cat as if she’d never seen one before. “What time is it?”

“Five o’clock. You missed lunch, but dinner will be ready soon.”

Casey stepped forward to retrieve the new pet, but Honey shook her head. “She’s okay there. I don’t mind sharing the bed.”

Casey smiled at her. They all loved and accepted animals, thanks to Jordan, and it pleased his son that their guest appeared to be of a similar mind. “You want something to drink?”

She thought about that for a moment, then finally nodded. “Yes, please.”

Sawyer was amused by her sluggish responses and said, “Make it orange juice, Case.”

“Sure thing.”

Once Casey was gone, Sawyer studied her. She yawned hugely behind her hand, then apologized.

“I can’t believe I slept so long.”

He resisted the urge to say, I told you so, and stuck to the facts instead. “You’ve got bronchitis, which can take a lot out of you, not to mention you’re just getting over a concussion. Sleep is the best thing for you.”

She sat back and tucked the covers around her waist. After a second, she said, “I’m sorry about arguing with you earlier. I know you mean well.”

“But you don’t trust me?”

She shrugged. “Trust is a hard thing. I’m not generally the best judge of character.”

This sounded interesting, so he pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable. “How so?”

She gave him a wary look, but was saved from answering when Casey came back in. He handed her the glass of iced orange juice and a napkin.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” He turned to Sawyer. “I’m going to go down and do some more work on the fence.”

“Only for about an hour. Dinner will be ready by then.”

“All right.”

As Casey started out, Honey quickly set her glass aside and lifted a hand. “Casey!”

He turned, his look questioning.

“I noticed your shoulders are getting a little red. Have you been out in the sun much lately?”

“Uh…” He glanced at his father, then back to Honey. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been outside, but there’s hasn’t really been much sun till just a bit ago.”

“I know it’s none of my business, but you should really put on a shirt or something. Or at least some sunscreen. You don’t want to burn.”

Sawyer frowned at her, then looked at Casey. Sure enough, there was too much color on his son’s wide shoulders and back. Casey looked, too, then grimaced. “I guess it was so cloudy today, I didn’t think about it.”

She looked prim as she lectured. “You can burn even through the clouds. I guess because I’m so fair, I’m especially conscious of the sun. But I’d hate to see you damage your skin.”

Casey stared at her, looking totally dumbfounded. Too much sunshine was probably the last thing the average fifteen-year-old would have on his mind. “I’ll, uh…I’ll put some sunscreen on. Thanks.”

Sawyer added, “And a shirt, Case.”

“Yeah, okay.” He hurried out before he drew any more attention.

Sawyer looked at Honey. She was smiling, and she looked so sweet, she took his breath away. He didn’t like her interference with his son, but since she was right this time, he couldn’t very well lecture her on it.

“You have a wonderful son.”

He certainly thought so. “Thank you.”

“He doesn’t really look like you. Does he take after his mother?”

“No.”

She looked startled by his abrupt answer, and Sawyer wished he could reach his own ass to kick it. He didn’t want her starting in on questions he didn’t want to answer, but his attitude, if he didn’t temper it, would prompt her to do just that.

“I got your clothes washed. If you’re feeling up to a bath, we can get that taken care of before dinner, then you can change.” Not that he wanted her trussed up in lots of clothes when she looked so enticing wearing what she had on. But he knew it’d be safer for his peace of mind if she at least had panties on.

Except that he’d already seen the tiny scrap of peach silk she considered underwear, and knowing she wore that might be worse than knowing she was bare, sort of like very sweet icing on a luscious cake.

Luckily he’d done the laundry while no one else was around. He didn’t want his brothers envisioning her in the feminine, sexy underwear. But he knew they would have if they’d seen it. He could barely get the thought out of his mind.

“I’m definitely up for a bath. I feel downright grungy.”

She looked far from grungy, but he kept that opinion to himself. “We’ll use the hall bath. Morgan’s room opens into it, but he isn’t home yet. I think he’s on a date. And Gabe only uses the shower in the basement.”

Her eyes widened. “Good grief. How many bathrooms do you have?”

She looked confused again, and he grinned. “As many as I have brothers, I guess. Little by little we added on as everyone grew up and needed more room.”

“It’s amazing you all still live together.”

He lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “My father left us the house, and my mom moved to Florida after Gabe graduated. Morgan stays here in the main house with me and Case, but he’s building his own place on the south end of the property. It should be done by the end of the summer.”

“How much property do you have?”

“Around fifty acres. Most of it’s unused and heavily treed, just there for privacy, or if any other family decides to build on it. Morgan’ll have his own acreage, but still be close enough, which is the way we all like it. Jordan’s settled into the garage. He converted it to an apartment when he was around twenty because he’s something of a loner, more so than the rest of us, but with his college bills, he couldn’t really afford to move completely out on his own. Now he could, of course, since there’s even more call for a vet in these parts than there is for a doctor, but he’s already settled. And Gabe has the basement, which runs the entire length of the house. He’s got it fixed up down there real nice, with his own kitchen and bath and living room, and his own entrance, though he usually just comes through the house unless he’s sneaking a girl in.”

“He’s not allowed to have women over?”

“Not for the night, but that’s not really a rule or anything now, just something my mother started back when Gabe was younger and kept trying it.” Sawyer grinned, remembering how often he and his brothers used to get in trouble. “Gabe has always attracted women, and sometimes I think he doesn’t quite know what to do with them. Dragging one home for my mother to get rid of seemed to be a favorite plan of his.”

Honey chuckled, and he could tell by her expression she didn’t know he was serious. He grinned, too. She’d get to know Gabe better, then she’d realize the truth.

“Keeping women out is just something that we’ve all stuck to. Especially with Casey around. He’s old enough now not to be influenced, but he was always a nosy kid, so you couldn’t do much without him knowing. He has a healthy understanding of sex, but I didn’t want him to be cavalier about it.”

She pulled her knees up and rested her crossed arms on them. Smiling, she said, “I guess your wife wouldn’t have liked it much, either, if a lot of women had been in and out of the house.”

Annoyance brought him to his feet, and he paced to the French doors. The topic shouldn’t be a touchy one, and usually wasn’t. But Honey didn’t know all the circumstances, all the background. He said simply, “My wife never lived in this house.”

She didn’t reply to that, but he knew she now felt awkward when that hadn’t been his intention. He glanced over his shoulder, saw her worried gaze and grimaced at his own idiocy. He’d opened a can of worms with that confession, and he didn’t know why. He never discussed his ex-wife with anyone except his family, and then only rarely.

“I got divorced while I was still in medical school. In fact, just a month after Casey was born. She was still pretty young and foolish and she wasn’t quite up to being a mother. So I took complete custody. My mother and Gabe’s father really helped me out with him until I could get through medical school. Actually, everybody helped. Morgan was around nineteen, Jordan fifteen and Gabe twelve. In a lot of ways, Gabe and Casey are like brothers.”

She looked fascinated, almost hungry for more information. He walked over to her and sat again. “What about you? You have much family?”

“No.” She looked away, then made a face. “There’s only my father and my sister. My mother passed away when I was young.”

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t imagine how he’d have gotten through life without his mother. She was the backbone of the family, the strongest person he knew and the most loving.

Honey shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I’m not very close with my father, but my sister and I are.”

“How old’s your sister?”

“Twenty-four.”

“How old are you?”

She looked at him suspiciously, as if he’d asked for her Social Security number. After a long hesitation, she admitted, “I’m twenty-five.”

He whistled. “Must have been rough for your father, two kids so close in age and your mother gone.”

She waved that away. “He hired in a lot of help.”

“What kind of help?”

“You know, nannies, cooks, tutors, pretty much everything. My father spent a lot of time at work.”

“Didn’t he do anything with you himself?”

She laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in the sound. “Not a lot. Dad wasn’t exactly thrilled to have daughters. I think that’s what he hated most about Mother dying—she hadn’t given him a son yet. He thought about remarrying a lot, but he was so busy with his business, and he worried that someone would divorce him and get part of it. He was a little paranoid that way.”

Sawyer looked her over, searching her face, seeing the signs of strain. She’d put up a brave front, but he could see the hurt in her blue eyes and knew there was a lot about her life that hadn’t always been satisfactory. “Sounds like a hell of a childhood you had.”

Color washed over her cheeks, and she ducked her face. “I didn’t mean to complain. We had a lot more than most kids ever do, so it wasn’t bad.”

Except it didn’t sound like she’d had a lot of love or affection or even attention. Sawyer had always appreciated his family, their support, the closeness, but now he realized just how special those things were. They came without strings, without restriction or embarrassment, and were unconditional.

She was still looking bashful over the whole subject, so he decided to let it drop.At least for now. “I guess if you’re going to take that bath, we should get on with it or you’ll miss dinner. And Jordan really outdid himself tonight for you.”

“Now Jordan’s cooking?”

He shrugged. “We take turns. Nothing fancy. I told him to make it light since I wasn’t sure what you’d feel up to. He’s got chicken and noodles in the Crock-Pot, and fresh bread out of the bread machine.”

She shook her head. “Amazing. Men who cook.”

Laughing, Sawyer reached for her and helped her out of the bed. She clutched at the top blanket, dragging it off the mattress and disturbing the cat, who looked very put out over the whole thing. Honey apologized to the animal, who gave her a dismissive look and recurled herself to sleep.

“You’ll have cat hair in the bed.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t. It’s your bed.”

“You’re sleeping in it.”

They stared at each other for a taut, electric moment, then Honey looked away. Her hands shook as she busied herself by wrapping the blanket over and around her shoulders. It dragged the ground, even hiding her feet.

He supposed that was best; even though the jersey covered her from shoulders to knees, he didn’t want his brothers ogling her—and they would. They were every bit as aware of an attractive woman as Sawyer, and Honey, in his opinion, was certainly more attractive than most. His brothers might not comment on the sexy picture she made with her hair disheveled, her feet bare and her slender body draped in an overlarge male shirt, but they’d notice.

She seemed steadier now, but he kept his right arm around her and held her elbow with his left hand, just in case. She was firmly in his embrace, and he liked it.

To get his mind off lusty thoughts and back on the subject at hand, he asked, “Don’t you know any men who cook?”

She sent him an incredulous look. “My father’s never even made his own coffee. I doubt he’d know how. And my fiancé took it for granted that cooking was a woman’s job.”

They’d almost reached the door, and Sawyer stopped dead in his tracks. His heart punched against his ribs; his thighs tightened. Without even realizing it, his hands gripped her hard as he turned her to face him. “You have a fiancé?”

Her eyes widened. The way he held her, practically on her tiptoes, pulled her off balance, and she braced her palms flat against his chest. He saw her pupils dilate as awareness of their positions sank in. “Sawyer…”

Her voice was a whisper, and he barely heard her over the roaring in his ears. He pulled her a little closer still, until her body was flush against his and her heartbeat mingled with his own. “Answer me, dammit. Are you engaged?”

She didn’t look frightened by his barbaric manner, which was a good thing since he couldn’t seem to get himself in hand. That word fiancé was bouncing off his brain with all the subtlety of a bass drum. If she was going to be married soon…

“Not…not anymore.”

“What?” He was so rattled, he wasn’t at all sure he understood.

“I’m not engaged, not anymore.”

Something turbulent and dangerous inside him settled, but in its place was a sudden blast of violent heat, an awareness of how much her answer had mattered to him.

He looked down at her mouth, saw her parted lips tremble, and he went right over the edge. He leaned down until he could feel her warm breath on his mouth, fast and low, and the vibrancy of her expectation, her own awareness.

And then he kissed her.

HONEY CLUTCHED at him, straining to make the contact more complete. Her blanket fell to the floor in a puddle around her feet. She barely noticed.

She didn’t think about what was happening, and she didn’t think about pulling away. Overwhelmed by pure sensation, by heat and need she’d never experienced before, she wanted only to get closer. She’d thought the attraction was one-sided, but now, feeling the faint trembling in Sawyer’s hard body, she knew he was affected, too.

Sawyer’s mouth was warm and firm, and he teased, barely touching her, giving her time to change her mind, to pull back. Until she groaned.

There was an aching stillness for half a heartbeat, then his mouth opened on hers, voraciously hungry, and his hands slid around to her back, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. She felt the hot slide of his tongue and the more brazen press of his swollen sex against her belly. A delicious sensation of yearning unfurled inside her, making her thighs tingle and her toes curl. Her fever was back, hotter than ever.

A knock sounded on the door.

They both jumped apart, Sawyer with a short vicious curse, Honey with a strained gasp. She almost fell as her feet tangled in the forgotten blanket, and would have if Sawyer hadn’t reached out and snagged her close again. He stared down into her face, his expression hard, his gaze like glittering ice, then called out, “What?”

The door opened and Jordan stuck his head in. He took one look at them, made a sheepish face and started to pull it shut again.

Sawyer caught the doorknob, keeping the door open. “What is it?”

Honey fumbled for the blanket, wishing she could pull it completely over her head and hide. It was so obvious Jordan knew exactly what he’d interrupted. Yet she’d only known Sawyer a day and a half, less if you counted how much she’d slept.

It didn’t matter to her body, and not really to her heart.

“Dinner’ll be ready in about ten minutes.” Jordan glanced at her, gave a small smile at her fumbling efforts to cover herself and again tried to sidle out.

“Can you make it twenty?” Sawyer asked, apparently not the least uncomfortable, or else hiding it very well. “She was just about to bathe.”

Jordan slanted her an appraising look, and Honey wanted to kick Sawyer. She was off balance, both emotionally and physically. That kiss…wow. She’d never known anything like it. How the hell could he stand there and converse so easily when she could barely get the words to register in her fogged brain? And how could he manage to embarrass her like that?

Firmly, but with a distinct edge to her croaking voice, she said, “I don’t want you to hold up dinner on my account.” She made a shooing motion with her free hand, trying to be nonchalant. “Just go on and eat. Really.”

Jordan caught her fluttering hand and grinned. “Nonsense. We can wait. Morgan is running a little late, anyway. He had some trouble in town.”

She felt Sawyer shift and tighten his arm around her. “What kind of trouble?”

“Nothing serious. A cow got loose from the Morrises’ property and wandered into the churchyard. Traffic was backed up for a mile.”

Honey tilted her head, thrilled for a change of topic. “The cow was blocking traffic?”

“No. Everyone just stopped to gawk. Around here, a cow on the loose is big news.” Then, with a totally straight face and a deadpan voice, Jordan added, “Luckily, the cow wasn’t spooked too badly by all the attention.”

Honey bit back her smile.

At that moment, the cat leaped off the bed to twine around Jordan’s ankles. Without even looking down, he scooped up the small pet and cuddled her close, encouraging the melodic, rumbling purr. To Honey, he said, “Go on and take your bath. There’s no rush.”

They stepped into the hallway en masse, two powerful men, an ecstatic cat and a woman wrapped head to toes in a blanket. They nearly collided with Casey, who was liberally caked in mud. He’d removed his shoes so he wasn’t tracking anything in, but mud was on his legs clear to his knees. The shirt he’d worn, thanks to her interference—she still didn’t know what had come over her—was dirt and sweat stained. He looked more like a man than ever.

Holding up both hands, Casey said, “Don’t come too close. The fields are drenched and muddy as hell…uh, heck. And half that mud is on me.”

Jordan clapped him on the back. “Well, you’ll have to use Gabe’s shower, because the little lady wants a bath.”

Casey stared at her.

Honey deduced that the phenomenon of having a female bathing in the all-male household warranted nearly as much attention as a cow on the loose.

Her face was getting redder by the second. If she didn’t have a fever, she soon would. Never in her life had bathing been such an ordeal, or been noted and discussed by so many males.

The front door slammed, and not long after, Morgan rounded the hall, already stripping his shirt off with frustrated, jerky movements. Powerful, bulky muscles rippled across his broad shoulders and heavy chest as he stamped around the corner of the hall. He had his hands on the button to his tan uniform slacks when he realized he had an audience.

He didn’t look the least discomforted at being caught undressing in the middle of the day, in the middle of the house, in front of a crowd.

“Sorry,” he grumbled without an ounce of sincerity, and yanked his belt free. “I’m just heading for the shower. It must be ninety out there, and the damn humidity makes it feel like a sauna.” He pointed an accusing finger at Jordan. “It was only the thought of a cool shower that kept me from kicking that damn ornery heifer, who no matter what I tried, refused to budge her big spotted butt.”

Jordan laughed out loud, gleefully explaining, “Your shower will have to wait because—”

Honey, knowing good and well he intended to announce her bath once again, pulled loose from Sawyer and stomped on Jordan’s toe. Since he had on shoes and she didn’t, he looked more surprised than hurt. He stared down at his foot, but then so did the rest of the men. They all looked as if they expected to see a bug to account for her attack. When no bug was found, all those masculine gazes transferred to her face, and she lifted her chin. Just because they were men didn’t mean they had to wallow in insensitivity.

Jordan blinked at her, one brow raised high, and she quickly stepped back to Sawyer’s side.

Her bravado wilted under Jordan’s questioning gaze. Oh, God, she’d assaulted him! In his own home and in front of his family. Sawyer chuckled and put his arm around her.

Morgan stared at her with bad-tempered amusement. “Wanting a long soak, huh? I suppose I can use Gabe’s shower…”

Casey stepped forward. “After me. I claimed it first.”

“I’m older, brat.”

“Doesn’t matter!” And then Casey took off, racing for the shower. With a curse, Morgan started after him.

Honey wanted to slink back to bed and hide. The bath, which had sounded so heavenly moments before, now just seemed like a form of public humiliation. She was tired and her throat hurt and her head was beginning to ache. She turned to Sawyer, stammering, “I can wait.”

Sawyer stared at her mouth.

Jordan stepped up and steered them both down the hall as if they were nitwits who needed direction. “Nonsense. Go take your soak. You’ll feel better afterward.” He limped pathetically as he walked, and Honey had the sneaking suspicion he did it on purpose, just to rattle her, not because she’d actually hurt him.

They were a strange lot—but she liked them anyway.

WARM WATER covered her to her chin, and she sighed in bliss. Finally, she felt clean again.

Where Sawyer had found the bubble bath, she didn’t know, but she seriously doubted any of his brothers would lay claim to it. She smiled, wondering what they all thought of her. From the little bit she’d seen of them, they had a lot of similarities, yet they were each so different, too.

Of course, that might make sense considering their mother was evidently remarried. Honey couldn’t imagine marrying once, much less twice. After the way her fiancé had used her, she wanted nothing to do with matrimony.

“You all right in there?”

“I’m fine. Go away.”

“Just checking.”

She smiled again. Sawyer had been hovering outside her door for the entire five minutes she’d been in the tub. He was something of a mother hen, which probably accounted for his chosen profession. He was meant to be a doctor. Everything about him spoke of a natural tendency to nurture. She liked it; she liked him. Too much.

The ultra-hot kiss…Well, she just didn’t know what to think of it. Her lips still tingled and she licked them, savoring the memory of his taste. She’d almost married Alden, yet he’d never kissed her like that. And she’d certainly never thought about him the way she thought about Sawyer.

She’d known Alden two years and yet had never really wanted him. Not the way she wanted Sawyer after less than two days.

What would have happened if Jordan hadn’t interrupted? Anything, nothing? She simply wasn’t familiar enough with men to know. Not that familiarity would have helped, because she knew, even in her feverish state and even without a wealth of experience, Sawyer was different from most men. He was unique, a wonderful mix of pure rugged masculinity and incredible sensitivity.

He’d run the bathwater for her, placed a mat on the floor and fresh towels at hand and stacked her cleaned jeans and T-shirt on the toilet seat. All without mentioning the kiss and without getting too close to her. After he’d gotten everything ready, he’d looked at her, shook his head, then left with the admonition she should take as long as she liked, but not so long she got dizzy or overtired herself.

She intended to linger just a few minutes more. In all likelihood, the brothers would hold dinner for her. From all indications they enjoyed the novelty of having a woman underfoot and wouldn’t pass up this opportunity to make her the center of attention again, as if she alone was the sole entertainment. She wasn’t used to it, but she supposed she’d manage. For now, they were probably still organizing their own bath schedule, but how long would that take? Alden had always taken very short showers, his bathing a business, not a pleasure, whereas she’d always loved lingering in the water, sometimes soaking for hours.

She drained the tub and stepped out onto the mat. The steamy bath had relieved her throat some, and her muscles felt less achy after the soak. The towel Sawyer had provided was large and soft, and she wrapped herself in it, wishing she could just go back to bed and sleep for hours but knowing she wouldn’t. She wanted to learn more about the brothers, she wanted to see the rest of the house and she needed to decide what to do.

She saw the edge of her peach panties showing from under the shirt, and she blushed. Somehow, the fact that Sawyer was now familiar with her underwear made their entire situation even more intimate, which meant more dangerous if she was honest with herself. How long would it take someone to figure out she was here? In a town this small, surely news traveled fast. Any strangers in town would have no problem finding her.

If she were smart, she’d forget her attraction to Sawyer, which weakened her resolve, and hightail it away as soon as possible.

“You about done in there?”

There was a slightly wary command to Sawyer’s tone now. She grinned and called out, “Be right there. I’m getting dressed.”

Silence vibrated between them, and Honey could just imagine where his thoughts had gone. She bit her bottom lip. Sawyer was too virile for his own good.

She heard him clear his throat. “Do you need any help?”

She almost choked, but ended up coughing as she finished smoothing her T-shirt into place. She pulled the door open and said to his face, “Nope.”

His gaze moved over her slowly, from the top of her head, where she had braided her long hair and then knotted it to keep it dry, to her T-shirt and down her jeans to her bare feet.

She bit her lip. “I don’t know what happened to my sandals.”

“Gone.”

“Gone?”

He shook himself, then met her steady gaze. “Yeah. One fell off in the lake and sank. The other might still be in your car—I dunno. At the time, I wasn’t overly worried about it, not with an unconscious woman in my arms.”

“Ah.”

“You’re not wearing a bra.”

“You can tell?” She quickly crossed her arms over her chest and started to go back into the bathroom to look for herself in the mirror. Sawyer caught her.

He slowly pulled her arms away and held them to her sides. She didn’t stop him. Everything she’d just told herself about staying detached faded into oblivion under his hot, probing gaze.

There they stood in the middle of the hallway, only a foot apart, and somehow fear, sickness and worry didn’t exist. All she could think of was whether or not he’d kiss her again, and if he found her satisfactory. She’d always been pleased with her body, but then, she wasn’t a man.

In a hoarse tone, he noted, “You have goose bumps.” Gently, his big, rough hands chaffed up and down her bare arms.

“The…the house is cold.”

He lifted one broad shoulder. “We keep the air-conditioning pretty low this time of year. Men are naturally warmer than women. Especially when the woman is so slight. I’ll get one of my shirts for you to put on.”

Excitement at the way he watched her made it impossible to speak. She nodded instead.

“You two going to stand there all day gawking? I’m starved.”

Sawyer swiveled his head to look at Gabe. He still held Honey’s arms. “How can you be starving when you didn’t do anything all day?”

“I cooked rolls this morning, fixed your leak, then visited three women. That’s a busy day in anyone’s book.” He grinned, then asked, “Should I just drag the table in here so we can all gather in the hallway? Is that what we’re doing?”

Sawyer narrowed his gaze at his brother, but there was no menace in the look. “I have an appointment with Darlene tomorrow so she can get her flu shot. Maybe I’ll mention your fondness for Mississippi mud pie. I hear Darlene’s quite a cook.”

Gabe took a step back, his grin replaced with a look of pure horror. “You fight dirty, Sawyer, you know that?”

Honey was amazed at the amount of grudging respect in Gabe’s tone, as if fighting dirty impressed him. And then he stomped away. Sawyer laughed.

She wondered if she would ever understand this unique clan of men. She looked up at Sawyer. “What in the world was that all about?”

A half smile tilted his mouth. “Darlene has the hots for Gabe and she’s looking to get married. She’s been chasing him pretty hard for awhile. Gabe has this old-fashioned sense of gallantry toward women, so he can’t quite bring himself to come right out and tell her to leave him alone. He remains cautiously polite, and she remains determined.”

“So if you mentioned a pie…”

“She’d be here every day with one.” He grinned again and gently started her on her way. He moved slowly to accommodate her. The bath had tired her more than she wanted to admit, even to herself. Being sick or weak wasn’t an easy concept to accept. Not for Honey.

“Why doesn’t Gabe like her?”

“He likes her fine. She’s a very attractive woman, beautiful even. Gabe went through school with her. I sometimes think that’s the problem for him. He knows all the women around here so well. Gabe doesn’t want to get serious about anyone, so he tries to avoid the women who are too obvious.”

“Darlene’s obvious?”

Sawyer shrugged. “Where Gabe’s concerned, they all are. Darlene was just the first name to come to mind.”

“Then she won’t really be here tomorrow?”

“Nope.” He put his arm around her waist and offered his support. “Come on, let’s get that shirt and get to dinner so the savages can eat. If I leave them hungry too long, they’re liable to turn on each other.”

SAWYER WATCHED HER nibble delicately on her meal. And he watched his brothers watch her, amused that they were all so distracted by her. She looked uncomfortable with all the notice, but she didn’t stomp on any more toes.

He doubted she had the energy for that. Her face was pale, her eyes dark with fatigue. Yet she refused to admit it. She had a lot of backbone, he’d give her that. As soon as she finished eating, he planned to tuck her back up in bed where she belonged.

He sat across from her—a deliberate choice so he could watch her. Gabe sat beside him, Casey sat beside her, with Morgan and Jordan at the head and foot of the table.

She’d been all round eyes and female amazement as she’d looked at the house on the way to the kitchen. Her appreciation warmed him. Most women who got through the front door were bemused with the styling of the house, all exposed pine and high ceilings and masculine functionality. The house wasn’t overly excessive, but it was certainly comfortable for a family of large men. It had been his father’s dream home, and his mother had readily agreed to it. At least, that’s how she liked to tell it.

Sawyer grinned, because in truth, he knew there were few things his mother ever did readily. She was a procrastinator and liked to think things over thoroughly. Unlike his guest, who’d barreled through his fence and landed in his lake and then proceeded to try to slug him.

Sawyer noticed Morgan staring at him, and he wiped the grin off his face.

He returned his gaze to Honey and saw her look around the large kitchen. They never used the dining room, not for daily meals. But the kitchen was immense, one of the largest rooms in the house, and the place where they all seemed to congregate most often. For that reason they had a long pine table that could comfortably seat eight, as well as a short bar with three stools that divided the eating area from the cooking area. Pots hung on hooks, accessible, and along the outside wall there was a row of pegs that held everything from hats and jackets to car and truck keys. The entire house had black checked curtains at the windows, but the ones in the kitchen were never closed. With the kitchen on the same side of the house as his bedroom, there was always a view of the lake. His mother had planned it that way because, she claimed, looking at the lake made the chore of doing dishes more agreeable. After they’d gotten older and all had to take their turn, they’d agreed. Then they’d gotten a dishwasher, but still there were times when one or more of them would be caught there, drinking a glass of milk or snacking and staring at the placid surface of the lake.

Honey shifted, peeking up through her lashes to find a lot of appreciative eyes gazing at her. She glanced back down with a blush. She was an enticing mix of bravado and shyness, making demands one minute, pink-cheeked the next.

He liked seeing his shirt on her, this one a soft, worn flannel in shades of blue that did sexy things for her eyes. And he liked the way her heavy hair half tumbled down her nape, escaping the loose knot and braid, with silky strands draping her shoulders.

She didn’t look as chilled, and he wondered if her nipples were still pebbled, if they pressed against his shirt.

His hand shook and he dropped his fork, taking the attention away from Honey. To keep his brothers from embarrassing him with lurid comments on his state of preoccupation, he asked Honey, “How come your car was filled with stuff, but no clothes?”

She swallowed a tiny bite of chicken and shrugged. She’d drunk nearly a full glass of tea but only picked at her food. “I left in a hurry. And that stuff was already in my car.”

Sawyer glanced around and saw the same level of confusion on his brothers’ faces that he felt.

Morgan pushed his empty plate away and folded his arms on the edge of the table. “Why was the stuff already in your car?”

She coughed, drank some tea, rubbed her forehead. Finally she looked at Morgan dead on. “Because I hadn’t unloaded it yet.” She aligned her fork carefully beside her plate and asked in her low, rough voice, “Why did you decide to become a sheriff?”

He looked bemused for just a moment, the customary scowl gone from his face. “It suited me.” His eyes narrowed and he asked, “What do you mean you hadn’t unloaded it? Unloaded it from where?”

“I’d just left my fiancé that very week. All I’d unloaded out of the car were my clothes and the things I needed right away. Before I could get the rest of the boxes out, I had to leave again. So the stuff was still in there. What do you mean, being a sheriff suits you? In what way?”

Her question was momentarily ignored while a silence as loud as a thunderclap hovered over the table. No one moved. No one spoke. All the brothers were watching Sawyer.

He drew a low breath. “She’s not engaged anymore.”

Gabe looked surprised. “She’s not?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Morgan demanded. “What happened?”

Before Sawyer could form an answer, Honey turned very businesslike. “What do you mean, being a sheriff suits you?”

A small, ruthless smile touched Morgan’s mouth as he caught on to her game. He leaned forward. “I get to call the shots since I’m the sheriff. People have to do what I say, and I like it. Why did you leave your fiancé?”

“I found out he didn’t love me. And what makes you think people have to obey you? Do you mean you lord your position over them? You take advantage?”

“On occasion. Did you love your fiancé?”

“As it turns out…no. What occasions?”

Morgan didn’t miss a beat. “Like the time I knew Fred Barker was knocking his wife around, but she wouldn’t complain. I found him drunk in town and locked him up. Every time I catch him drinking, I run him through the whole gambit of sobriety tests. And I find a reason to heavily fine him when I can’t stick him in jail. He found out drinking was too expensive, and sober, he doesn’t abuse his wife.” He tilted his head. “If you didn’t love the guy, why the hell were you engaged to him in the first place?”

“For reasons of my own. If you—”

“Uh-uh. Not good enough, honey. What reasons?”

“None of your business.”

His voice became silky and menacing. “You’re afraid to tell me?”

“No.” She stared down her nose at him. Even with dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes and her hair more down than up, the look was effectively condescending. “I just don’t like being provoked. And you’re doing it deliberately.”

Morgan burst out laughing—a very rare occurrence—and dropped back in his chair. The way Jordan and Gabe stared at him, amazed, only made him laugh harder.

Sawyer appreciated the quick way she turned the tables on his dominating brother. It didn’t happen often, and almost never with women. Evidently, Morgan had been amused by her, too, because he could be the most ruthless bastard around when it suited him. Sawyer was glad he hadn’t had to intervene. He wouldn’t have let Morgan badger her, but he had been hoping Morgan could get some answers.

He found Honey could be very closemouthed when it suited her. It amazed him that she could look almost pathetically frail and weak one moment, then mean as a junk-yard dog the next.

Gabe waved his fork. “Morgan does everything deliberately. It’s annoying, but it does make him a good sheriff. He doesn’t react off the cuff, if you know what I mean.”

Jordan looked at Sawyer. “Not to change the subject—”

Morgan snorted. “As if you could.”

“—but do we have anything for dessert?”

“Yeah.” Sawyer watched Honey as he answered, aware of her new tension. She wasn’t crazy about discussing her personal life, but he had no idea how much of it had to do with her claimed threats or the possibility of a lingering affection for her ex. His jaw tightened, and he practically growled, “Frosted brownies.”

Jordan sat back. “They’re no good?”

“They’re fine. And in case none of you noticed, there’s a new pig in the barnyard.”

Honey started, the tension leaving her as confusion took its place. “A pig?”

“Yeah.” Casey finished off a glass of milk, then poured another. He was a bottomless pit, and growing more so each day. “Some of the families can’t afford to pay cash, so they pay Dad in other ways. It keeps us Adam’s apple high in desserts, which is good, but sometimes we end up with more farm animals than we can take care of. We have horses, and they’re no problem, but the goats and pigs and stuff, they can be a nuisance.”

Jordan looked at Sawyer. “The Mensons could use a pig. They had to sell off a lot of stock lately to build a new barn after theirs almost collapsed from age.”

Sawyer continued to watch Honey, concerned that she was pushing herself too hard. At the moment, she didn’t look ill so much as astonished. He grinned. Buckhorn was a step back in time, a close community that worked together, which he liked, but it would take some getting used to for anyone out of the area. “Feel free, Jordan. Hell, the last thing I want is another animal to take care of.”

“They’ll insist on paying something, but I’ll make it real cheap.”

“Trade for some of Mrs. Menson’s homemade rock candy. Tell her I give it away to the kids when they come, and I’m nearly out.”

“Good idea.”

Honey looked around the table at all of them as Casey went to the counter to get the brownies. Her face was so expressive, even before she spoke, he knew she was worried. “You know everyone around here?”

With a short nod, Sawyer confirmed her suspicions. “We know them, and most people in the surrounding areas. Buckhorn only boasts seven hundred people, give or take a couple dozen or so.”

Suddenly she blurted out, “Have you told anyone about me?” and Sawyer knew she was talking to everyone, not just him. What the hell was she so afraid of?

Casey dropped a brownie on the side of her plate, but she barely seemed to notice. Her hands were clenched together on the edge of the table while she waited for an answer.

“Dad told me not to say anything to anyone,” Casey offered, when no one else spoke up. “So far, I’d say no one knows about you.”

“Why do you care?” Sawyer waited, but he knew she wouldn’t tell him a damn thing. “Is it because you think these people you claim want to hurt you might follow you here?”

Morgan, still lounging back in his chair, rubbed his chin. “I could run a check on you, you know.”

She snorted over that. “If you can, then you already have. But you didn’t find anything, did you?”

He shrugged, disgruntled by her response to what had amounted to a threat. She didn’t threaten easily.

Jordan leaned forward. “You say someone is after you. Could it be this fiancé of yours?”

“Ex-fiancé,” Sawyer clarified, then suffered through the resultant snorts and snickers from his demented brothers.

“I thought so at first. He…well, he wasn’t happy that I broke things off. He was actually pretty nasty about it, if you want the truth.”

“Truth would be nice.”

She glared at Sawyer so ferociously, he almost smiled. But not quite.

“I think it wounded his pride or something,” she explained. “But regardless of how he carried on, my father is certain it couldn’t be him.”

“Why?”

“If you’d ever met Alden, you’d know he doesn’t have a physically aggressive bone in his body. He’d hardly indulge in a dangerous chase. He’s ambitious, intelligent, one of my father’s top men. And my father pointed out how concerned Alden is with appearances and that he’d hardly be the type to cause a scene or run the risk of making the news.” She shrugged. “That’s what my father likes most about him.”

Sawyer curled his lip, more angered at her father’s lack of support than anything else. “Alden? He sounds like a preppy.”

“He is a preppy. Very into the corporate image and climbing the higher social ladder, though I didn’t always know that. My father scoffed at the idea that Alden would chase me because regardless of his temper, I wouldn’t be that important to him in his grand scheme of things.”

He watched her face and knew she was holding something back, but what? Sawyer pushed her, hoping to find answers. “Even though you walked out on him?”

“I left, I didn’t walk out.”

“What the hell’s the difference?”

She sighed wearily. “You make it sound like I staged a dramatic exit. It wasn’t like that at all. I found out he didn’t care about me, I packed up my stuff, wrote him a polite note and left.”

Her body was tense, her expression carefully neutral. Sawyer narrowed his gaze. “Why did he ask you to marry him in the first place if he didn’t care about you?”

She closed up on him, her face going blank, and Sawyer knew she still didn’t trust him, didn’t trust any of them. It made him so angry his hands curled into fists. He wasn’t the violent type, but right now, he would relish one of Morgan’s barroom brawls.

Sawyer surged to his feet to pace. He wanted to shake her; he wanted to pull her up against his body, feel her softness and kiss her silly again until she stopped resisting him, until she stopped fighting. He tightened his thighs, trying for an ounce of logic. “How in hell are we supposed to figure this out if you won’t even answer a few simple questions?”

Morgan leaned back and stacked his hands behind his head. Jordan propped his chin on a fist. Gabe lifted one brow.

“You’re not supposed to figure anything out.” Honey drew a deep breath, watching him steadily. “You’re just supposed to let me go.”

SAWYER’S DARK EYES glittered with menace, and his powerful body tensed.

Watching him with an arrested expression, Morgan murmured, “Fascinating.”

Jordan, also watching, said, “Shh.”

Honey turned to Gabe, ignoring the other brothers, and especially Sawyer’s astounding reaction to her refusal of help. She couldn’t look at him without hurting, without wishing things could be different. She’d known him almost no time at all, yet she felt as if she’d known him forever. He’d managed, without much effort, to forge a permanent place in her memory. After she was gone, she’d miss him horribly.

Gabe grinned at her. It seemed they all loved to be provoking, but she wasn’t up to another round. All the questions on Alden had shaken her. She’d tried to answer without telling too much, juggling her replies so that Sawyer might be appeased but at the same time wouldn’t learn too much. Alden had been so vicious about her refusal to come back to him, to continue on with the marriage, she didn’t dare involve anyone else in her troubles, especially not Sawyer, until she better understood the full risk, and why it existed in the first place.

She’d been looking blankly at Gabe for some time now, and she cleared her throat. “Does your handyman expertise extend to cars?”

“Sure.”

Jordan kicked him under the table. Honey knew it, but in light of everything else they’d done, it didn’t seem that strange or important.

While Gabe rubbed his shin and glared daggers at Jordan, Sawyer stalked over to her side of the table. With every pump of her heart, she was aware of him standing so close. She could feel his heat, breathe his scent, unique above and beyond the other brothers, who each pulsed with raw vitality. But her awareness, her female sensitivity, was attuned to Sawyer alone. Her skin flushed as if he’d stroked those large, rough hands down her body, when in fact he’d done no more than stand there, gazing down at her.

When she refused to meet his gaze, he propped both hands on his hips and loomed over her. “Gabe can fix your car, but you’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied that it’s safe, which means you’re going to have to quit stalling and explain some things.”

Honey sighed again and tilted her head back to see him. Sawyer was so tall, even when standing she was barely even with his collarbone. Since she was sitting, he seemed as tall as a mountain. She really was tired of getting the third degree by overpowering men. “Sawyer, how can I explain what I don’t understand myself?”

“Maybe if you’d just tell us what you do understand, we could come up with something that makes sense.”

Leave it to a man to think he could understand what a woman couldn’t. Her father had always been the same, so condescending, ready to discount her input on everything. And Alden. She shuddered at her own stupidity in ever agreeing to marry the pompous ass. Now that she’d met Sawyer and seen how caring a man could be…

With a groan she leaned forward, elbows on the table, and covered her face with her hands.

She was getting in too deep, making comparisons she shouldn’t make. Morgan was right, he could start tracking her down. And since she didn’t know what the threat was, only that it was serious, it was entirely possible he’d accidentally lead the threat to her—and to this family. She couldn’t have that.

Car keys hung accessible on the wall by the back door. Sawyer wouldn’t be sleeping in the same room with her tonight; there was no need. She’d have to take advantage of the opportunity. She’d borrow one of their vehicles, go into town and then get a bus ticket. She could leave a note telling Sawyer where to find his car.

Just the thought of leaving distressed her on so many levels, she knew she had to go as soon as possible, whether she felt up to it physically or not.

Sawyer evidently wanted her for a fling; he’d made his interest very obvious with that last kiss. He’d also indicated he found her to be a royal pain in the backside, and no wonder, considering she’d wrecked his fence and left a rusted car in his lake, along with taking his bed and keeping him up at night. When he wasn’t watching her with sexual heat in his dark eyes, he was frowning at her with unadulterated frustration.

She felt the same incredible chemistry between them, but she also felt so much more. He had the family life she’d always wondered about, the closeness and camaraderie, the sharing and support that she’d always believed to be a mere fairy tale. So often she’d longed for the life-style he possessed. And he was that special kind of man who not only accepted that life-style, but also contributed to it, a driving force in making it work for everyone.

She found Sawyer very sexually appealing, but he also felt safe and comforting. Security was a natural part of him, something built into his genetic makeup. And after the way her engagement had ended, she would never settle for half measures again, not when there was so much more out there.

She heard the shifting of masculine feet, a few rumbling questions, then Sawyer leaned down, his hand gently cradling the back of her head. “Honey?”

With new resolution she pushed her chair back, forcing Sawyer to move. “You’re not going to let up on this, are you?”

Morgan snorted. Sawyer shook his head.

“All right.” With an exaggerated sigh, she looked down, trying to feign weary defeat when inside she teemed with determination. “I’ll tell you anything I can. But it’s a long, complicated story. Couldn’t it wait until the morning?”

She peeked up and caught Sawyer’s suspicious frown. With a forced cough that quickly turned real, she said, “My throat is already sore. And I’m so tired.”

Just that easily, Sawyer was swayed. He took her arm and helped her away from the table. “The morning will be fine. You’ve overdone it today.”

By morning, she’d be long gone. And once she got to the next town, she’d contact her sister and let her know she was all right, then she could go with her original plan. She’d hire a private detective and pay him to figure out what was going on while she stayed tucked away, and those she cared about would stay safely uninvolved. She’d never forget this incredible family of men…but they would quickly forget her.

“Sawyer…” Morgan said in clear warning, obviously not pleased with the plan. Honey knew that particular brother couldn’t care less if she was sick. Even though she wasn’t really that sick, not anymore. But he didn’t know it.

“It’s under control, Morgan.” Sawyer’s tone brooked no arguments.

Morgan did hesitate, but then he forged on. “I know Honey’s still getting over whatever ails her, but we really do need—”

With a loud gasp, she froze, then stiffened as his words sank in. Slowly, she turned to face Morgan. “You know my name.”

There was no look of guilt on his hard, handsome face, just an enigmatic frown.

Sawyer shook his head in irritation while glaring at Morgan. “Around here, everything female is called honey.”

Casey nodded. “We’ve got an old mule out in the field that Jordan named Honey because that’s all she’d answer to.”

She almost laughed at the sincerity on Casey’s face, but instead she pulled free of Sawyer’s hold and blazed an accusation. “He wasn’t using an endearment. He was using my name.”

Morgan shrugged. “Honey Malone. Yeah, I went through your purse.”

Her eyes widened. “You admit it? Just like that?” She nearly choked on resentment and coughed instead.

While Sawyer patted her on the back and Casey hurried to hand her a drink, Morgan said, “Why not?” He rolled his massive shoulders, not the least concerned with her ire. “You show up here under the most suspicious circumstances and you claim someone is trying to hurt you. Of course I wanted some facts. And how could I run that check on you if I didn’t have your name? I thought you’d already figured that out.”

Her mouth opened twice, but nothing came out. She should have realized he’d already gone through her things, only she’d been so busy trying to hold her own against him, and she’d taken his words as an idle threat, not a fait accompli. She was making a lot of stupid mistakes, trusting them all when she shouldn’t.

Tonight. She had to leave tonight.

Then she remembered her bare feet and wanted to groan. She couldn’t very well get on a bus without shoes. Maybe she could swipe a pair from Casey. She glanced at his feet and saw they were as large as Sawyer’s. Good grief, she was in a house of giants.

Sawyer tipped up her chin. “He only looked in your wallet to find your name. He didn’t go through every pocket or anything. Your privacy wasn’t invaded any more than necessary. Your purse is in the closet in my room, if you want to check and make sure nothing is missing.”

She ground her teeth together. “It isn’t that.” The last thing she was worried about was them stealing from her. She had little enough with her that was worth anything.

“Then what is it?”

She thought quickly, but trying to rationalize her behavior while the touch of Sawyer’s hand still lingered on her face was nearly impossible. Everything about him set her off, but especially his touch. No matter where his fingers lingered, she felt it everywhere. “I…I don’t have any shoes.”

He frowned down at her bare feet for a long moment. “Are your feet cold?”

She wanted to hit him, but instead she turned away. Her brain was far too muddled to keep this up. If she didn’t get away from him, she’d end up begging him to let her stay. “I’m going to bed now. Jordan, thank you for dinner.”

He answered in his low, mesmerizing voice, no less effective for the shortness of his reply. “My pleasure.”

She glanced at him. “I’d offer to help with the dishes, but I have the feeling—”

“Your offer would definitely be turned down.” Sawyer released her, but added, “I’ll be in to check on you in a few minutes.”

The last thing she needed was to be tempted by him again. “No, thank you.”

He stared at her hard, his gaze unrelenting. “In a few minutes, Honey, so do whatever it is you feel you have to do before going to bed. I left the antibiotics and the ibuprofen on the bathroom counter so you wouldn’t forget to take them. After you’re settled, I want to listen to your chest again.”

There was a lot of ribald macho humor over that remark. Jordan choked down a laugh, and this time Gabe kicked him.

With a glare that encompassed them all, Honey stalked off. She was truly weary and wondering where in the world she was going to find shoes for her feet so she could steal a car and make her getaway from a group of large, overprotective, domineering men whom she didn’t really want to leave at all.

Gads, life had gotten complicated.

HE KNOCKED on the door, but she didn’t answer. Sawyer assumed she was mad and ignoring him, not that he’d let her get away with it. He opened the door just a crack—and saw the bed was empty. She was gone. His first reaction was pure rage, tinged with panic, totally out of proportion, totally unexpected. He shoved the door wide and stalked inside, and then halted abruptly when he saw her. His gut tightened and his heart gave a small thump at the picture she presented.

Honey sat on the small patio outside his room. She had her feet curled up on a chair, her head resting to the side, and she was looking at the lake. Or maybe she wasn’t looking at anything at all. He couldn’t see her entire face, only a small part of her profile. She looked limp, totally wrung out, and it angered him again when he thought of her stubbornness, her refusal to let him help her.

No one had ever refused his help. He was the oldest, and his brothers relied on him for anything they might need, including advice. Casey got everything from him that he had to give. Members of the community sought him out when they needed help either with a medical problem or any number of others things. He was a figure-head in the town, on the town council and ready and willing to assist. He gave freely, whatever the need might be, considering it his right, part and parcel with who and what he was. But now, this one small woman wanted to shut him out. Like hell.

Her physical impact on his senses was staggering. But it was nothing compared to the damn emotional impact, because the emotions were the hardest to fight and to understand. If it was only sex he wanted, he’d drive over the county limits and take care of the need. But he wanted her specifically, and it was making him nuts.

Being summer, it was still light out at eight o’clock, but the sun was starting to sink in the sky, slowly dipping behind a tree-topped hill across the lake. The last rays of sunshine sent fiery ribbons of color over the smooth surface of the water. A few ducks swam by, and far out a fish jumped.

Sawyer went back and closed the bedroom door silently, drawn to her though he knew he should just walk away. As he passed the bathroom, he noticed her toothbrush, still wet, on the side of the sink, along with a damp wash-cloth over the spigot, and his comb that he’d lent her. Those things looked strangely natural in his private domain, as if they belonged. She’d evidently prepared for bed, then was lured—as he often was—by the incredible serenity of the lake.

Though the house had a very comfortable covered deck across the entire front and along one side by the kitchen, he’d still insisted on adding the small patio off his bedroom. In the evening, he often sat outside and just watched the night, waiting for the stars or the clouds to appear, enjoying the way mist rose from the lake to leave lingering dew on everything. The peacefulness of it would sink into his bones, driving away any restlessness. Many times his son or one of his brothers would join him. They didn’t talk, they just sat in peace together, enjoying the closeness.

He’d never shared a moment like this with a woman, not even his wife.

He approached Honey on silent feet. She looked melancholy and withdrawn, and for a long time he simply took in the sight of her. He’d seen her looking fatigued with illness and worry, and he’d seen her eyes snapping with anger or panic. He’d watched her cheeks warm with a blush, her brow pucker with worry over his son. He’d even seen her muster up her courage to embrace a verbal duel with Morgan. Sawyer had known her such a short time, but in that time, he had truly related to her. Whereas hours might be spent on a date, her health had dictated they bypass the cordial niceties of that convention, and their relationship had been intimate from the first. The effects were devastating. He’d already spent more time in her company than most men would through weeks of dating.

Every facet of her personality enthralled him more than it should have. He wanted to see her totally relaxed, without a worry, finally trusting him to take care of her and make things right.

And most of all, he wanted to see her face taut with fierce pleasure as he made love to her, long and slow and deep.

He slid the French door open, and she looked at him.

There were two outdoor chairs on his private patio, and he pulled one close to her. He spoke softly in deference to the quiet of the night and the quiet in her blue eyes. “You look pensive.”

“Hmm.” She turned to stare back out at the lake, tilting her head at the sound of the crickets singing in the distance. “I was…uneasy. But this is so calming, like having your problems washed away. It’s hard to maintain any energy out here, even for irritation.”

“You shouldn’t be irritated just because we want to help.”

Her golden brown lashes lowered over her eyes. “Dinner with your family was…interesting. Around our house, there was only my sister and me. It was always quiet, and if we talked, it was in whispers because the house was so silent. Dinner wasn’t a boisterous event.”

“We can take a little getting used to.”

She smiled. “No, I enjoyed myself. The contrast was wonderful, if that makes any sense.”

That amused him, because meals at home were always a time to laugh and grouse and share. She’d probably find a lot of contrasts, and he hoped she enjoyed them all. But it also made him sad, thinking of how lonely her life must have been. “It makes perfect sense,” he assured her.

“Good.”

Because it had surprised him, he added, “You held your own with my brothers.”

She laughed, closing her eyes lazily. “Yes. Morgan is a bully, but I have the feeling he’s fair.”

Sawyer considered her words and the way she’d spoken them. “Honorable might be a better word. Morgan can be very unfair when he’s convinced it’s for the best. He’s a no-holds-barred kind of man when he’s got a mission.”

Her long blond hair trailed over her shoulder all the way to her thigh, catching the glow of the setting sun as surely as the lake did. She tilted her chin up to a faint warm breeze, and his blood rushed at the instinctively feminine gesture and the look of bliss on her face. “It was so cold inside,” she whispered, “I wanted to feel the sunshine. I came out here to warm up, then couldn’t seem to make myself go back in.”

They did keep the air low, but not so much that she should be uncomfortable. He reached over and placed his palm on her forehead, then frowned. “You could be a little feverish again. Did you take the ibuprofen I left in the bathroom?”

“Yes, I did. And the antibiotic.” She blinked her eyes open and sighed. “Did I thank you for taking such good care of me, Sawyer?”

A low thrumming started in his veins, making his body throb. He could feel his own heartbeat, the acceleration of his pulse—just because she’d said his name. “I don’t know, but it isn’t necessary.”

“To me it is. Thank you.”

He swallowed down a groan. He wanted to lift her onto his lap and hold her for hours, just touching her, breathing in her spicy scent, which kept drifting to him in subtle, teasing whiffs. Right now, she smelled of sunshine and warmth and the musky scent of woman, along with a fragrance all her own, one that seemed to be seeping into his bones. It drove him closer to the edge and made him want to bury himself in the unique scent.

But beyond that, he wanted to strip her naked and settle her into his bed. He wanted to look his fill, to feel her slender thighs wrap tight around his hips, her belly pressed to his abdomen, her body open and accepting as he pushed inside for a nice long slow ride, taking his time to get her out of his blood.

He wanted to comfort her and he wanted to claim her, conflicting emotions that left him angry at his own weakness.

He was aware of her watching him, and then she said, “Can I ask you a few questions?”

He laughed, and the sound was a bit rusty with his growing arousal. “I’d have to be a real bastard to say no, considered how my brothers and I have questioned you tonight.”

She sent him an impish smile. “True enough.” She curled her legs up a little higher then rested her cheek on her bent knees. “Why did Morgan really become a sheriff?”

That wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting, and her interest in his brother brought on a surge of annoyance. “You think there’s a secret reason?”

“I think there’s a very personal reason.” She shooed a mosquito away from her face, then resettled herself. “And I’m curious about him.”

Sawyer felt himself tense, though he tried to hide it. “Curious, as in he’s a man and you’re a woman?”

She looked at his mouth. “No. Curious as in he’s your brother, and therefore a part of you.”

Satisfied, his twinge of unreasonable jealousy put to rest, Sawyer turned to look at the lake. “There’s no denying our relationship, is there? Morgan and I share a lot of the same features, even though he is a bit of an overgrown hulk. Except I have my father’s eyes, and he has my mother’s.”

“You look alike more so than the other two.”

“We had a different father. Our father died when Morgan was just a baby.”

“Oh.” She shifted, unfolding her long legs and sitting upright. She reached over and touched his arm, just a gentle touch with the tips of her fingers, lightly stroking, but the effect on his body was startling. He felt that damn stroke in incredible places.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I had thought your mother just divorced.”

He covered her hand with his own to still the tantalizing movement. “She was that, too.”

“But…”

To keep the emotions she evoked at bay, he launched into a dispassionate explanation. “She married Jordan’s father when I was five, and divorced him shortly after Jordan was born. I barely remember him, but he lost his job after the marriage and he started drinking. It became a problem. At first my mother tried to help him through it, but she would only tolerate so much in front of her children, and he couldn’t seem to help himself, or so she’s said. So she left him. Or rather, she divorced him and he took off and we never hear from him. My mother never requested child support, and he never stayed around long enough to offer it.”

“Oh, God. Poor Jordan.”

“Yeah. He wasn’t much more than an infant when they divorced, so he didn’t know his father at all. He’s never mentioned him much. He was always a quiet kid. Morgan loved to beat up the boys who gave Jordan any grief. We both used to try to protect him. We sort of understood that he was different, quiet but really intense.”

“He’s not so quiet now.” She made a face, wrinkling her nose, probably remembering the way Jordan had teased her about her bath. “He’s not as demanding as Morgan, but I wouldn’t exactly call him shy.”

“No. He’s not shy.” Sawyer smiled, thinking of how she’d stomped on Jordan’s foot. “None of my brothers are. But Jordan isn’t as outgoing as the others, either.”

“When did he change?” An impish light twinkled in her eyes. “After his first girlfriend?”

She was teasing, and Sawyer liked that side of her, too. “Actually, it happened when he was only ten. He found some kids tormenting a dog. He told them to leave the dog alone, and instead, one boy threw a rock at it. The dog, a really pitiful old hound, let out a yelp, and Jordan went nuts on the boys.” Sawyer chuckled, remembering that awesome day. “He was like a berserker—impressed the hell out of everyone who watched.”

Honey shook her head. “Males are so impressed by the weirdest things.”

Sawyer glanced at her. “This wasn’t weird! It was life-altering stuff. Sort of a coming-of-age kinda thing. My mother had always taught us to be good to animals, and Jordan couldn’t bear to see the old dog harassed. The boys were two years older than Jordan, and there were three of them. Morgan and I were on the sidelines, waiting to jump in if we needed to, but being so much older, we couldn’t very well start brawling with twelve-year-olds.”

“Too bad they weren’t older.”

He heard her impudent wit, but pretended she was serious. “Yeah. Neither of us is fond of idiots who abuse animals. We wouldn’t have minded a little retribution of our own. But Jordan held his ground and did a good job of making his point. He ended up with a black eye, a couple dozen bruises, and he needed stitches in his knee. My mother liked to have a fit when she saw him. And Morgan and I got lectured for hours for not stopping the fight. But no one messed with Jordan again after that. And anytime an animal was hurt or sick, someone would tell Jordan. I swear, that man can whisper an animal out of an illness.”

“So that started him on the road to being a vet. What made Morgan decide to be a sheriff?”

Sawyer turned her hand over and laced his fingers with hers. Her hands were small, slender, warm. Along the shore of the lake, a few ducks waddled by then glided effortlessly into the water, barely leaving a ripple. Peonies growing on the other side of the house lent a sweet fragrance to the air, mixing with her own enticing scent.

He was horny as hell, and she wanted to talk about his brothers.

“Morgan is a control freak,” he managed to say around the restriction in his throat.

“I noticed.”

Since she’d been a recipient of his controlling ways, he supposed she had. “He used to get into a lot of scrapes, sort of a natural-born brawler. Give him a reason to tussle and he’d jump on it. He got in trouble a few times at school, and my mother was ready to ground him permanently. Gabe’s dad was a good influence on him.”

Honey started. “Your mother was married three times?”

Sawyer didn’t take offense at her surprise. No one had been more surprised by that third marriage than his mother herself. “Yeah.” He smiled, dredging up fond memories. “I was eight years old when Brett Kasper started hanging around. My mother wanted nothing to do with him, and I’d ask her why, since he was so obviously trying to get in good with her and he was a nice guy and we all liked him—even Morgan. Brett would offer to clean out her gutters, play baseball with us, run to open doors for her. But he was always honest about why he did it. He’d tell us he was wooing our mother and ask for our help.” Sawyer laughed. “We’d all talk about him to her until finally she’d threaten to withhold dessert if we mentioned his name again. I now understand how burned she felt, losing her first husband in the military, divorcing her second husband as a mistake.”

“Because you went through a divorce, too?”

He wouldn’t get into that with her. The divorce hadn’t bothered him that much, unfortunately. It was all the deceit that had changed his life.

Sawyer shrugged. “My mother worked damn hard to keep everything going, raising four sons, working, keeping up the house. My father’s pension helped, even paid for a lot of my college. And we all pitched in, but it wasn’t easy for her.”

“She must be incredible.”

“Brett used to say she was as stubborn as an aged mule and twice as ornery.”

“What a romantic.”

Sawyer laughed. “He didn’t cut her any slack, which is good because my mother is strong and she wouldn’t want a man who couldn’t go toe to toe with her. Brett wanted her and he went after her, even though she was gun-shy and didn’t want to take another chance. Sometimes she was rude as hell to him. But Brett was pushy and he kept hanging around until he finally wore her down.”

Honey gave him a dreamy smile. “Areal happy ending.”

“Yeah. They’ve been married twenty-eight years now. Brett’s great. I love him. He’s always treated us the same, as if he’d fathered the lot of us. Even Morgan, who can be so damn difficult.”

“You said he helped Morgan?”

“He helped redirect Morgan’s more physical tendencies by signing him up for boxing. And he set up a gym of sorts in the basement, which we all used until Gabe moved down there. Now there’s just a weight room in what is supposed to be a den. My mother frets every time she sees it.”

Honey laughed again, a low, husky sound that vibrated along his nerve endings and made him acutely aware of how closely they sat together, their isolation from the others, the heaviness of the humid summer air. He reacted to it all and kissed her knuckles before he could stop himself.

Just that brief touch made him want so much more.

Trying to regroup, he said, “Morgan chose to be a sheriff because he likes control, and for him, that’s the ultimate control. But regardless of what he says, it isn’t control over other people, it’s control of himself. He knows he’s more wild than not, that he’ll always be more aggressive than most people. Choosing to run for sheriff was his way of forcing himself to be in control at all times.”

She gave a very unladylike snort. “I think he’s a big fraud.”

Her misperceptions prompted Sawyer to grin. He could just tell she and Morgan would butt heads again and again if they spent much time around each other.

Of course, that was iffy, with her planning to leave and him planning to eventually let her.

“The hell of it is, Morgan never starts fights, he just finishes them. With that scowl of his, he can bring on a lot of attitude that men, especially bullies, generally object to. And to be fair, he always gives the other guy a chance to back off, but there’s that gleam in his eyes that taunts. Morgan’s always had an excess of energy and he gets edgy real quick. So to burn up energy, he either fights or he…” Appalled at what he’d almost said, Sawyer stemmed his ridiculous outpouring of personal confidences, wondering if he’d already stepped over the line. He was so comfortable with her, a fact he’d only realized, and she was so damn easy to talk to, he’d completely forgotten himself.

She tilted her head, her eyes alight with curiosity. “Or what?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” She shook her head even as she fought off a yawn. “No way. You can’t just tease me like that and then not tell me.”

She looked sleepy and warm and piqued, all at once. Again he felt that unfamiliar rush of lust and tenderness and knew he was reacting to her when he shouldn’t. But he just couldn’t help himself. She drew him in without even trying.

Caught by her gaze, he admitted in a hoarse tone, “Morgan either fights…or he makes love. Either way, he burns off energy.”

Her cheeks immediately colored and her eyes widened. “Oh. Yeah, I guess…I guess that could work.”

Having caught her uncertainty, Sawyer leaned forward to see her averted face. “You don’t sound certain.”

She cleared her throat. “Well, it’s not like…that is…” She peeked at him, her brow furrowed in thought. “Is it?”

Sawyer stared at her, blank-brained for just a moment, then he surged to his feet. Damn, if she was asking him if sex was really all that vigorous, he didn’t think he could suffice with a mere verbal answer. Surely a woman as sexy, as attractive as she would already know! Damn her, she plagued his brain with her contradictions, her looks earthy and sensual, her behavior so modest. Bold one minute, timid the next.

He stared down at the lake for long moments, trying to get himself together and fight off the surge of lust that swamped him. He heard her stand behind him.

“Sawyer?”

“What?” He didn’t mean to sound so brusque, but it felt as if she were killing him and his resolve by small degrees. Torturous, but also extremely erotic.

“Can I ask you something?”

Her tone was hesitant and shy, and he prayed her question wouldn’t be about sex. He was only human, and she was too much temptation.

He looked at her over his shoulder and tried to dampen his frustration. “What is it with all these questions? I thought your throat was sore.”

“It is. But your family is so different, so special. It’s the way I always thought families should be. I’ve enjoyed hearing about them. And I have had a few things vexing my mind.”

A grin took him by surprise; she sounded so worried. “Vexing you, huh?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” Turning, he gave her his full attention. The setting sun did amazing things to her fair hair and her blue eyes while making her skin appear even smoother. It was still hot and humid outside, even though it was evening, and she’d removed his shirt. He could visually trace the outline of her breasts beneath the T-shirt, the full shape of them, the roundness, even the delicate jut of her nipples. His abdomen pulled tight in an effort to fight off the inevitable reaction in his body, but he still felt himself harden. He could see the narrowness of her midriff, the dip of her waist. She hadn’t tucked the T-shirt in, and still the flare of her hips was obvious and suggestive.

She shaded her eyes with a small hand and blurted, “Why did you kiss me?”

Taken completely off guard, he blinked at her. After a moment, he said, “Come again?”

“Earlier.” She bit the side of her mouth and shifted nervously. “When you kissed me. Why’d you do it?”

She had to ask? He was thirty-six years old, had been kissing females since he was twelve, and yet none of them had ever asked him such a thing. Trying to figure out what she was thinking, he countered her question with one of his own. “Why do you think I did it?”

She looked so young when she turned bashful. He wondered at the man who’d given her up, who hadn’t really loved her, as she’d put it. Sawyer had already decided he was a damn fool. Now, seeing her like this, he was glad. She deserved better than a fool, better than a man who’d be stupid enough to let her go.

He stepped closer, so tempted to kiss her again, to show her instead of tell her about her appeal. But he knew it wasn’t right, that he was taking advantage of her situation and confusion. She stared down at her bare feet. “My sister always told me I was pretty.”

He wanted to see her eyes, but no matter how he willed it, she wouldn’t look up. “You’re very pretty. But I hardly kiss every pretty woman I see.”And in truth, he’d known women much more beautiful. They simply hadn’t interested him; they didn’t draw him as she did. “Besides,” he added, trying for some humor, “your face is bruised, and your lips are chapped, and there’s dark circles under your eyes.”

“Oh.” She touched her cheeks, then let her hands drop away with a frown.

He waited while she thought about that. “Alden used to tell me I was shaped…okay.”

“Okay?”

She gave a grave nod. “Men can be…enticed, by physical stuff, I know.”

She was attempting to sound blasé, and he barely held back his laugh. Alden must have been a complete and total putz. She was much better off without him. “Honey, you’re sexy as hell, and sure, to some men that’s all that matters, but again—” He gave a philosophical shrug.

“You don’t kiss every sexy woman you see?”

“Exactly.”

She licked her lips, and her expression was earnest, if reserved. “So then why did you?”

Very softly, he admitted, “I shouldn’t have.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Her cheek was sun-warmed beneath his palm as he tilted up her face, determined to see her eyes, to read her. Besides, he couldn’t seem to not touch her. “What’s your real question, sweetheart?”

Her eyes darkened, and the pulse in her throat raced, but she didn’t look away this time. She fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the next. “Did…did you think since I was available, but determined not to be here too long, you could just…you know. Have a quick fling?”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much. But she amused and delighted him with her every word—when she wasn’t provoking him and pricking his temper. She was both the most open, honest woman he’d ever met, sharing her feelings and emotions without reserve or caution, and the most stubbornly elusive, refusing to tell him any necessary truths. “Anyone who knows me could tell you I’m hardly the type for a quick indiscreet fling, or any kind of fling. But certainly not with someone who didn’t want the same.”

She looked startled. “You think I don’t want—”

Interrupting that thought seemed his safest bet. “I don’t think you know what you want right now. But it surely isn’t to be used.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m human, and I get restless like any other man. But I have a reputation here, and a lot of people look up to me. I have to be very circumspect.”

She stared at him, her expression almost awed that such sanctimonious words had escaped his mouth. He felt like an idiot. “Honey, I’m sorry, but I just can’t—”

She took an appalled step back. “I wasn’t asking you to!”

His mouth quirked again, but he ruthlessly controlled it. “When I get too restless, there are women I know outside of town who feel just as turned off by commitment as I do. They’re content with physical release and no strings.”

Her mouth formed an O.

Feeling aggrieved, he explained, “They’re nice women, who are content with their lives, but they get lonely. The world being what it is, it’s not easy to find someone respectable who isn’t looking for marriage. We suit, and it’s simple and convenient and—”

Her face was bright red. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten into this.

“I see. So you…indulge yourself with these women you don’t really care about. But I don’t fall in that category?”

His teeth clicked together. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to haul her up close and nestle his painful erection against her soft belly. He shook his head, as much for himself as for her. “You most definitely don’t fall into that category. You’re young and confused and scared. You’re not from around here and you don’t know me well enough to know I have no desire to remarry. And that’s why I said I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a determined step away. “It won’t happen again, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

She drew a long, considering breath. “I wasn’t worried. Not really. I just wasn’t sure…” She bit her lip and then blurted, “Most of the time you don’t seem to like me very much. You feel responsible for some dumb reason, and you’re kind enough, but…I just wasn’t sure what to think about the kiss.”

She obviously had no experience with aroused men, to mistake his personal struggles for dislike. And no sooner did he have that thought than he tried to squelch it. It was dangerous territory and would lead him into more erotic thoughts of what he’d like to show her, and just how much he liked her. Instead of explaining, he said, “I’d like you a whole lot more if you’d stop keeping secrets.”

She got her back up real quick, turning all prickly on him. “We agreed we’d talk in the morning.”

“So we did.” He was more than ready to let it drop before he dug himself in too deep. “Why don’t you head on in.” If she stood there looking at him even a minute more, he was liable to forget his resolve and gather her close and kiss her senseless—despite all the damn assurances he’d just given her. These uncontrollable tendencies had never bothered him before; now he felt on the ragged edge, like a marauder about to break under the restraint. The things he wanted to do to her didn’t bear close scrutiny. “You look ready to drop,” he quickly added, hoping she wouldn’t argue.

Sighing, she turned to go in. “I feel ready to drop.”

Sawyer followed her through the door. The cold air-conditioning was a welcome relief as it washed against his heated skin. It may be evening, but summer in Kentucky meant thick humidity and temperatures in the nineties, sometimes even through the night.

Honey came to an abrupt halt beside the bed and stared at the fresh linens. “Someone changed the bed.”

“I did. I figured you’d want clean sheets.”

She gave him a querulous frown for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom, then sat on the edge of the mattress and reached for the cat. Until she did so, Sawyer hadn’t realized the cat was back. Her calico coloring made her blend perfectly with the patchwork quilt.

Honey lifted the cat onto her lap and stroked her, being especially careful with her bandaged tail. “So I know you won’t kiss me again, but I still don’t know why you did in the first place.”

Watching her pet the cat mesmerized him—until she spoke, breaking the spell with her unsettling question. He didn’t want to answer her because he knew it would somehow complicate things further. But she had that stubborn, set look again, and he figured she wouldn’t go to bed until he satisfied her curiosity. He crossed his arms over his chest and studied her while searching for the right words. “I kissed you because I couldn’t seem to stop myself.”

“But why?”

He growled, “Because you’re quick-witted and sweet and you have more courage than’s good for you.And you’re stubborn and you make me nuts with your secrets.” Almost reluctantly, he admitted, “And you smell damn good.”

She stared up at him, bemused. “You kissed me because I annoy you with my stubbornness and…and my courage?”

He gave a sharp nod. “And as I said, you’re smart and you smell good. Incredibly good.”

“But I thought—”

“I know what you thought.” She’d complained about smelling like the lake when to him, she’d smelled like herself, a woman he wanted.

He started to ask her why she’d kissed him back, because she had. She’d nearly singed his eyebrows with the way she’d clung to him, how her mouth had moved under his, the way she’d greedily accepted his tongue, curling her own around it.

He shuddered, then headed for the door, escape his only option. Somehow he knew he’d be better off not knowing what had motivated her. “I won’t sleep in here tonight, but if you need anything just let me know. I’m using the front bedroom.”

She rushed to her feet. “I hadn’t thought…I didn’t mean to chase you out of your own room!”

There was so much guilt in her face, he slowed for just a heartbeat. “You didn’t chase me out. I just figured since you were already settled…”

“I’ll switch rooms.” She took an anxious step toward him. “You shouldn’t have to be inconvenienced on my account.”

He hesitated a moment more, caught between wanting to reassure her and knowing he had to put distance between them. “It’s not a problem. Good night.”

She started to say something else, but he pulled the door shut. Truth was, he liked knowing she was in his bed. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to sleep there again without thinking of her—and dreaming.

THE HOUSE was eerily quiet as she slipped the bedroom door open, using only the moonlight filtering in through the French doors to guide her way. Though she hadn’t lied about being exhausted, she hadn’t slept. The clean sheets no longer smelled of Sawyer’s crisp, masculine scent. She’d resented the loss.

She listened with her ear at the crack in the door, but there was nothing. Everyone was in bed, as she’d suspected, probably long asleep. She pictured Sawyer, on his back, his long body stretched out, hard, hot. Her heart gave an excited lurch.

He’d kissed her because she was smart.

And sweet and stubborn and…She’d wanted to cry when he’d given those casual compliments. She’d almost married a man who’d never even noticed those things about her, and if he had, he wouldn’t have found them attractive. For him, her appeal had been based on more logical assets, what she could bring him in marriage, her suitability as a partner, the image she’d project as his wife.

Occasionally he’d told her she was lovely, and he’d had no problem using her body. But nothing he’d ever done, not even full intimacy, had been as hot, as exciting, as Sawyer’s kiss. God, she’d been a fool to almost marry Alden.

Her father had once claimed she could have any husband she wanted based on her looks and his financial influence, neither of which she’d ever considered very important. Sawyer couldn’t be interested in her father’s influence, because he didn’t know about it and didn’t need it, in any case. And from what he’d said, he didn’t find her all that attractive. She smiled and touched her cheek. She was a wreck, and she didn’t even care. He’d kissed her, and he’d told her she smelled good, and he liked her wit and stubbornness and courage. Such simple compliments that meant so much. Without even realizing it, he’d given her a new perspective on life, a new confidence. She’d no longer doubt her own worth or appeal, thanks to his grudging admission.

She knew she had to leave before she threw herself at him and begged him to pretend she was one of the women from outside of town. Every time she was around him, she wanted him more.

She’d left a note on the bed, made out to Sawyer and sealed in a bank deposit envelope she’d found on his dresser. It was a confession of sorts, explaining how she felt and part of the reasons she had to leave. It was embarrassing, but she felt she owed him that much, at least. She knew he wouldn’t be happy with her furtive defection, but from what he’d said, he’d be even less happy if she lured him into an intimacy he was bound and determined to resist.

Her purse had been in the closet, as the brothers had claimed, and all her credit cards and I.D. were still inside. She was ready to go.

The door was barely open when the small cat leaped off the bed to follow her out. When Honey reached for the cat, meaning to close her back in the bedroom so she wouldn’t make any noise, the cat bounded out of reach. Honey wasn’t sure what to do, but it was certain she couldn’t waste time hunting for the animal in the dark. She’d been through the house, but she wasn’t familiar enough with the setup to launch a search; odds were she’d knock something over.

She was halfway down the hallway, moving slowly and silently though the blackness, when the cat meowed. Every hair on her body stood on end while she waited, frozen, for some sign she’d been discovered. Nothing. The brothers slept on.

Honey glared behind her, but could only see two glowing green eyes in the darkness. Again she reached for the cat; again it avoided her. She felt the brush of soft fur as the cat moved past, then back again, always just out of reach. Honey cursed silently and prayed the cat would be quiet, and that she wouldn’t trip on it and knock anything over.

The house was so large, it took her some time to make her way to the kitchen, especially with the cat winding around her ankles every few steps. She’d always liked cats, but now she was thinking of becoming a dog woman.

A tiny, dim light on the stove gave scant illumination across the tiled kitchen floor. She could barely see, but she knew the keys were hanging on a peg on the outside wall, close to the door, so she used the stove light as a compass of sorts, helping her to orient herself to the dark room. Shuffling her feet to avoid tripping on unseen objects, including felines, she made her way over to the door, trying to avoid the heavier shadows of what she assumed to be the table and counter. Once her searching hand located the keys, she had another dilemma. There were too many of them!

Her heart pounded so hard it was almost deafening. Her palms were sweaty, her stomach in a tense knot. The damn cat kept twining around her bare feet, meowing, making her jumpy. She had no idea where the pet food was kept and had no intention of trying to find out.

Finally, knowing she had to do something or she’d definitely faint, she ignored the cat and decided to take all the keys. When she found one that operated the closest vehicle, she’d drop the rest in the grass, leaving them behind.

She tucked her purse under her arm and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Carefully, shuddering at every clink and rattle, she lifted the various key rings. There were five sets. She swallowed hard and, clutching the keys in one hand, her purse in the other, she reached for the kitchen door. The cat looked up and past her, meowed, then sprinted away. Honey turned to see where the cat was headed and barely caught sight of a large, looming figure before a growling voice took her completely off guard.

“You were actually going to steal my car!”

She jerked so hard, it felt like someone had snapped her spine. At first, no sound escaped her open mouth as she struggled to suck in air, then her heartbeat resumed in a furious trot, and she shrieked involuntarily. Shrill. Loud. The cat took exception to her noise, and with a hiss, darted out of the room. Honey seriously thought her heart might punch right through her chest, it was racing so frantically. It didn’t matter that the voice was familiar; she’d been sure she was all alone, being incredibly sneaky, and then he was there. The sets of keys fell from her limp hand in a clatter on the tile floor. Her purse dropped, scattering the contents everywhere.

Sawyer was there in an instant, his hands clasping her shoulders and jerking her around to face him, hauling her up close on her tiptoes again. Her body flattened against his, and she could feel his hot angry breath on her face, feel the steel hardness of his muscles, tensed for battle.

“You were going to steal my goddamn car!”

“No…” The denial was only a whisper. She still couldn’t quite catch her breath, not after emptying her lungs on that screech.

He took one step forward, and her back came up against the door while his body came up against her front. “If I hadn’t been sitting there in the shadows, you’d be sneaking out right now.” He shook her slightly. “Admit it.”

She swallowed, trying to find her tongue. Instead, the damn tears started. He’d been there all along? She’d never stood a chance? She sniffed, fighting off the urge to weep while trying to decide what to say, how to defuse his rage.

She trembled all over, and she couldn’t find the will-power to explain. She felt Sawyer practically heaving, he was so angry, and in the next instant he groaned harsh and low and his hands were on her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears, his mouth hungrily searching for hers. The relief was overwhelming.

She cried out and wrapped her arms around him. He’d said it wouldn’t happen again, that not only didn’t he want her for a fling, he didn’t want her for anything. She’d told herself that was for the best. She’d told herself she hadn’t cared. But inside, she’d crumbled.

Now he wanted her, and she was so weak with fear and excitement, all she could do was hold on to him.

One of his hands slid frantically down her side, then up under her shirt. He bit her bottom lip gently and when she opened her mouth, his tongue thrust inside, just as his long, hot fingers closed over her breast.

She jerked her mouth away to moan at the acute pleasure of it—and the kitchen light flashed on.

Blinded, Honey shaded her eyes while Sawyer jerked her behind him and turned to face the intruder.

“Just what the hell is going on?” There was two seconds of silence, then, “Ah. Never mind. Stupid question. But why the hell is she screaming about it?”

Morgan’s voice. Oh, my God, oh my God, oh, my God. Honey peeked around Sawyer, then yelped. Good grief, the man was buck naked and toting a gun!

Sawyer shoved her back behind him again with a curse. “Damn it, Morgan, put the gun away.”

“Since it’s just you, I will. That is, I would if I had any place to put it.” Honey could hear his amusement, and she moaned again.

Sawyer muttered a low complaint. “You could have at least put some shorts on.”

“If I’d known you were only romping in the kitchen I would have! But how the hell was I supposed to know? She screamed, Sawyer. I mean, I know you’re rusty and all, but damn. You must have completely lost your touch.”

Honey clutched at Sawyer’s back, her hot face pressed to his bare shoulder. This couldn’t be happening.

Sawyer crossed his arms over his chest. “She screamed because I caught her trying to steal the car keys.” He kicked a set toward Morgan. The sound of them skidding over the floor was almost obscene. Honey didn’t bother to look to see if Morgan picked them up. The man was blatantly, magnificently naked, and didn’t seem to care. She shuddered in embarrassment and burrowed closer against Sawyer, pressing her face into his hot back, trying to blot the vision from her mind.

Morgan gave a rude grunt. “I see. She was stealing one of our cars. And so you kissed her to stop her?”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

Suddenly she heard Casey say, “What’s going on? I heard someone scream.”

Honey thought if there was any luck to be had for her, she would faint after all. She waited, praying for oblivion, and waited some more, but no, she remained upright, fully cognizant of the entire, appalling predicament she’d gotten herself into.

Sawyer’s body shifted as he gave a heavy sigh. “It’s all right, Casey. Honey was just trying to sneak off in the night. She was going to steal a car.”

“I was not!” Honey couldn’t bear the thought of Sawyer’s son believing such a thing about her. She cautiously peeked around Sawyer and saw Jordan and Gabe amble into the room. Just what she needed. Morgan, bless his modest soul, had sat down behind the bar. All she could now see of him was his chest. But that was still more than enough, especially since the gun remained in his hand, idly resting on the bar counter.

Gabe held up a hand. “I already heard the explanations. Damn, but she has a shrill scream. I had to scrape myself off the ceiling, it startled me so bad.”

Jordan held the cat in the crook of one arm, gently soothing it. “I even heard her all the way out in the garage. When I got here, the poor cat was nearly hysterical.”

Ha! Honey eyed them all, especially that damn traitor feline, and tried to muster up a little of that courage Sawyer claimed she had. At least they weren’t all naked, she told herself, then shuddered with relief. Casey had pulled on jeans, and Gabe had on boxers. Jordan had a sheet wrapped around himself, held tight at his hip with a fist.

She felt remarkably like that damn cow in town who’d drawn too much attention.

“I wasn’t stealing the car.” They all stared at her, and the accusing look on Casey’s face made her want to die. She wiped away tears and cleared her throat. “I left a note on the bed, explaining. I just wanted to get to town and I thought it’d probably be too far to walk. I would have left the car there for you to pick up.”

Jordan frowned. “What’d you want in town that one of us couldn’t get for you?”

“No, you don’t understand. I was going to take the bus.”

Morgan shook his head in a pitying way. “We don’t have bus service in Buckhorn,” he explained with little patience. “You’d have gotten to town and found it all closed up. Around here, they roll the sidewalks up at eight.”

Her heart sank. “No bus service?”

Gabe pulled open the refrigerator and pulled out the milk. He drank straight from the carton. “The only bus service is in the neighboring county, a good forty miles away.”

Honey watched him with a frown. “You shouldn’t do that. It’s not healthy.”

Sawyer turned to glare down at her, his face filled with incredulous disbelief. She shrugged, feeling very small next to him. In a squeak, she said, “Well, it isn’t.”

Gabe finished the carton. “I knew it was almost empty.”

“Oh.”

Sawyer flexed his jaw. “What about your car? Your stuff? You don’t even have any shoes, remember?”

He was still so furious, she took a step back. And even though Casey had looked wounded by what she’d attempted to do, he came to her side. He didn’t say anything, just offered his silent support by standing close. She sent him a grateful smile, which he didn’t return.

She shifted. “After I got things taken care of, I’d have sent for my stuff.”

“Taken care of how?”

She’d known Sawyer was large, but now he seemed even bigger, his anger exaggerating everything about him. There was no warmth in his dark eyes, no softness to his tone. She wasn’t afraid of him, because she knew intuitively that he’d never hurt her. None of the brothers would hurt a woman; that type of contemptible behavior just wasn’t in their genetic makeup. But she was terribly upset.

She opened her mouth, hoping to put him off until she wasn’t quite so rattled, and he roared, “No, God dammit, it will not wait until the morning!”

She flinched. Silence filled the kitchen while she tried to decide how to react to his anger. Jordan stepped over to her, flanking her other side. “For God’s sake, Sawyer, let her sit down. You’re terrorizing her.”

Sawyer’s eyes narrowed and his jaw locked. With a vicious oath he turned away, then ran a hand through his dark hair. Just then Honey noticed Sawyer wore only boxers himself. Tight boxers. That hugged his muscled behind like a second skin.

Her lips parted. Her skin flushed. Blinking was an impossibility.

She stood there spellbound until Jordan set the cat down and started to lead her away. He held her arm with one hand and his sheet with the other and tried to take her to the table. Belatedly she realized his intent and held back because that would put her alongside Morgan, and she knew no one had thrown him any pants yet.

“I’m all right,” she whispered, wishing Sawyer would look at her instead of staring out the window at the pitch black night.

Jordan released her with a worried frown. She went back to the door and began picking up the keys and the contents of her purse. No one said anything, and when she was done, she carefully replaced the keys where they belonged. With her back to all of them, she said, “I wanted to get to the next town. I have a credit card, and I could charge a room, then call my sister to let her know I’m okay.”

Jordan, Gabe and Morgan all asked, “You have a sister?” and, “Does she look like you?” and, “How old is she?”

Honey rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe they could be interested in that right now. “She’s way prettier than me, but dark instead of fair, and she’s a year younger. But the point is, she’ll be worried. I told her I’d call her when I got settled somewhere. Then I’m going to hire a private detective to find out who’s after me.”

Casey frowned at her. “Why couldn’t you do that from here?”

How could she tell him she was already starting to care too much about them all? Especially Sawyer? She tempered the truth and admitted, “I want to make things as simple as possible. I don’t want to involve anyone else in my private problems.”

Sawyer still hadn’t turned or said a word, and it bothered her.

Gabe rooted through the cabinets for a cookie. “Why not just go to the police?”

She really hated to bare her soul, but it looked as if her time had run out. She clutched her purse tightly and stared at Sawyer’s back. “My father is an influential man. Recently he decided to run for city council. He’s been campaigning, and things have looked promising so far. When I broke off my engagement, he was really angry because he’d planned to use the wedding as a means to campaign, inviting a lot of important, connected people to the normal round of celebrations that go with an engagement. Our relationship was already strained, and we’d barely spoken all week. He…well, he hit the roof when I told him I thought someone was after me. He thinks I’m just over-reacting, letting my imagination run away because I’m distraught over the broken engagement. When I said I was going to the police, he threatened to cut me off because he says I’m causing him too much bad publicity, and he’s certain I’ll only make a fool of myself and draw a lot of unnecessary negative speculation that will damage his campaign.”

Morgan started to stand, but when she squealed and covered her eyes, he sat back down again. “Casey, go get me something to wear, will you?”

“Why me? I don’t wanna miss what’s going on.”

Morgan frowned at him. “I’m not dressed, that’s why. And she’s acting all squeamish about it, so she’d probably rather I didn’t get up and parade around right now. Course, if you don’t care how she feels…”

Put that way, Casey had little choice. He looked thoroughly disgruntled, and agreed with a lot of reluctance. “All right. But you owe me.” He sauntered off, and the cat, apparently enjoying all the middle-of-the-night excitement, bounded after him.

Morgan folded his arms on the bar, looking like he’d made the most magnanimous gesture of all by offering to put on clothes. “So since your daddy threatened to cut the purse strings, you ran off instead?”

Now, that did it! It was almost one o’clock in the morning; she was tired, frazzled, embarrassed and worried. The last thing she intended to put up with was sarcasm.

Honey slammed her purse down on the counter and stalked over to face Morgan from the other side of the bar. Hands flat on the bar top, she leaned over until she was practically nose to nose with him. “Actually,” she growled, forcing the words through her teeth, “I told him to stick his damn money where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Morgan pulled back, and astonishment flickered briefly in his cobalt eyes, mixed with a comical wariness. “Uh, you said that, did you?”

“Yes, I did. My father and I have never gotten along, and money won’t change that.”

Jordan applauded. “Good for you!”

She whipped about and pointed a commanding finger at Jordan. “You be quiet! All of you have done your best to bulldoze me, and I’m getting sick and tired of it. I don’t take well to threats, and I couldn’t care less about my father’s money.”

Jordan chuckled, not at all put off by her vehemence. “So what happened?”

Deflated by their eternal good humor, Honey sighed. Men in general were hard enough to understand, but these men were absolutely impossible. “He threatened to cut off my sister, instead, and though she reacted about the same as I did, I can’t be responsible for that. I had no choice except to leave.”

Sawyer spoke quietly from behind her. “Except that you got sick, so you didn’t make it very far. At least, not far enough to feel safe.”

She didn’t turn to face him. Her gaze locked onto Gabe’s, and he smiled in encouragement. As long as she didn’t see the disappointment and resentment in Sawyer’s eyes, she thought she’d be all right.

“Someone had been following me for two days. I wasn’t imagining it. I know I wasn’t.” She spoke in the flatest monotone she could manage. She didn’t want them to hear her fear, her worry. It left her feeling too exposed. “The first day I managed to dodge them.”

“You say ‘them.’ Was there more than one person?”

She glanced at Morgan. “It’s just a figure of speech. I never saw inside the car. It was a black Mustang, and the windows were darkened. I noticed it the day after I ended things with Alden. When I left the bank where I worked, the car was in the parking lot, and it followed me. I’d promised my sister to stop at the grocery, so I did, and it was there when I came out. It spooked me, so I drove around a little and managed to lose it by jumping on the expressway into the heavy traffic, then taking an exit that I never take.”

Morgan rubbed his chin. “Must not have been a professional if you lost ’em that easy.”

“I don’t know if they’re professional or not. I don’t know anything about them.”

Gabe leaned against the countertop, ankles crossed, eating cookies. “You know, I hate to say this, but you could have just been spooked. If that’s all that happened—”

“That’s not all! I’m not an idiot.”

He held up both hands, one with a cookie in it, and mumbled, “I wasn’t suggesting you are.”

Totally ruffled, she glared at him a moment longer, then continued. “The car was there again the next day. And that’s too much of a coincidence for me.”

They each made various gestures of agreement, all but Sawyer, who merely continued to watch her through dark, narrowed eyes.

“This time it followed me right up until I pulled into my sister’s house. The car slowed, waited, and I practically ran to get inside. Then it just drove away.”

“I still think it’s your ex,” Jordan said. “If you left him, he probably wanted to know where you’d gone. I would have.”

“Me, too,” Gabe concurred.

“I thought it might be Alden at first. But it just doesn’t fit.” Honey watched Casey come back in with jeans and toss them to Morgan. Casual as you please, Morgan stood to put them on, and she quickly turned her back, but she could already feel the heat climbing up her neck to her cheeks. The man could improve with just an ounce of true modesty!

“So what changed your mind?”

Sawyer didn’t look so angry now. Or rather, he didn’t look so angry at her. He still seemed furious over the circumstances.

“I talked to Alden. He kicked up a fuss about me breaking things off, yelling about how humiliated he’d be since so many of his associates knew we were engaged. And he even threatened me some.”

With cold fury, Sawyer whispered, “He threatened you?”

A chill went up her spine as she remembered again the lengths Alden had gone to just to punish her for breaking things off. And worst of all, she knew he wasn’t motivated by love, but obviously by something much darker. “He used the same type of threats as my father. Alden told me he’d get me fired from my job, and he did. The bank claimed they were just scaling down employees, but Alden has a relative in a management position at the bank.”

“You could sue,” Jordan pointed out, and she saw he was now as angry as Sawyer. It was an unusual sight to see, since Jordan had always looked so serene. Now his green eyes were glittering with anger, his lean jaw locked.

“I…I might have,” she admitted, dumbfounded by their support, “but that night when I was at my sister’s house, someone broke in. She was out on a late date, so I was alone. I could hear them going through the drawers, the cabinets. I know it was the same people who’d been following me. They saw where I was staying and then they came back. They went through everything. I just don’t know why, or what they were looking for. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid in my life. For the longest time I couldn’t move. I just laid in the bed, frozen, listening. When I realized they’d eventually search the bedroom, I forced myself to get up. I didn’t bother getting clothes, I just grabbed up my purse, slipped out the bedroom window and snuck to my car. I saw the curtain open in the front room as I started the engine, then I just concentrated on getting away. I was nearly hysterical by the time I got to my father’s.”

She lowered her face, embarrassed and shaken all over again. Masculine hands touched her, patting her back, stroking her head, and gruff words of comfort were murmured. She was caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry.

She pulled herself together and lifted her chin. After a deep breath, she continued, and the men all subsided back to their original lounging posts.

“My father took me seriously this time, at least for awhile. He sent some men over to check out the apartment, but they said nothing seemed to be out of place. The only thing open was the window I’d gone through, and there was no one there when they arrived. Again, my father thought I was just overreacting. He wanted to call Alden, thinking I’d feel better when we got back together.”

Sawyer never said a word, but Morgan grunted. “Did you tell him the bastard had cost you your job?”

She shrugged. “My father said he was just acting out of wounded male pride.”

“Hogwash.” Gabe tossed the rest of the cookies aside to pace around the kitchen. Though he wore only his underwear, he made an awesome sight. “Men don’t threaten women, period.”

“That’s what my sister said. My father had sent men to get her, also, before he decided there wasn’t a problem, that I’d made it all up. Luckily she believed me. She promised not to go back to the house until after a security alarm was put in—a concession from my father, which my sister refused, saying she’d get her own.”

Jordan grinned. “Your sister sounds a lot like you.”

Why that amused him, she couldn’t guess. “In some ways.”

Gabe looked thoroughly disgusted. “Someone is following you around town, looting through your house with you in it, and the best your father could do was offer an alarm system?”

Honey held up her hands. She couldn’t very well explain her father’s detachment when the very idea would be alien to such protective men. Why, even now, they’d gathered in the kitchen, in the middle of the night, pulled from their beds, and no one was complaining. They just wanted to help.

Those damn tears welled in her eyes again.

Morgan flexed his knuckles, and the look on his face was terrifying. Even though she felt disturbed rehashing the whole story, Honey smiled. They were all so overprotective, so wonderful. She couldn’t drag them into her mess. She had no idea how much danger she might actually be in. “When I left my father’s that afternoon, the car was there again, following me, and I did panic. I took off. But it followed, and even tried to run me off the road.”

Jordan stared at her. “Good God.”

“It kept coming alongside me, and when I wouldn’t pull over, it…it hit the back of my car. The first time, I managed to keep control, but then it happened again, and the third time I went into a spin. The Mustang had to hit his brakes, too, to keep from barreling into me, and there was an oncoming car and the Mustang lost control. He went off the side of the road and crashed into a guardrail. The other car stopped to see if he was hurt, but I just kept going.”

“And you’ve been going ever since?”

She nodded. “I left Alden a week ago. It seems like a year. I stopped once and traded in my car, which was a nice little cherry-red Chevy Malibu, not worth much with the recent damage in the back. I bought that old rusted Buick instead. But I’ve been so on edge. I stopped to get gas once, and saw the Mustang again. I have no doubt I’m being followed, I just don’t know why. Alden didn’t really care about me, so it seems insane he’d go to this much trouble to harass me. And harassing me certainly wouldn’t make me reconsider marrying him.”

Sawyer pulled out a kitchen chair then forced her to sit in it. He said to Jordan, “Why don’t you put on some coffee or something? Casey, you should go on back to bed.”

Casey, who’d been sitting at the table, his head in his hand, looking weary, said, “No way.”

“Chores still have to be done tomorrow.”

“I’ll manage.”

Honey, relieved to be off her feet, smiled at him. “Really, Casey. You should get some sleep. There’s not anything else to hear tonight, anyway.”

Sawyer crouched down beside her, his expression intent, his nearness overpowering. She couldn’t be this close to him without wanting to touch him, to get closer still. And right now, he had all that warm, male skin exposed. She turned her face away, but he brought it back with a touch on her chin. “Now there’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. You’re going to tell me why you agreed to marry this bastard in the first place, and why he wanted to marry you. Then you’re going to tell me what made you change your mind. And if we have to sit here all night to get the full truth, then that’s what we’ll do.”

She knew she’d get no rest until he had his way, and she was limp from the nerve-racking experience of trying to steal away and getting caught in the act. She folded her hands primly in her lap and nodded. “Very well. But at least get dressed.” She looked over her shoulder at the others. “All of you. If I’m to be forced through the inquisition, I demand at least that much respect.”

Sawyer stared at her hard, and she couldn’t tell if it was amusement, annoyance or sexual awareness that brought on that hardness to his features. His gaze skimmed over her, then lit on her face. “Fair enough. But Casey will stay here to keep an eye on you. Don’t even think about running off again.”

He walked away, and she admitted she’d been wrong on all accounts. It was distrust that had been so evident on his face. And she had to admit she’d deserved it.

WHEN SAWYER STALKED into his room to grab some pants, still angry and doubly frustrated, the first thing he saw was the rumpled bed where she’d lain. Heat drifted over him in waves, making his vision hazy. He wanted her so badly he shook with it, and he knew the wanting wouldn’t go away. He hadn’t even known that kind of lust existed, because it never had for him before. Unlike Morgan, and even Gabe, he’d always had a handle on his sexuality. He was, more often than not, cool and remote, and always in control.

And after the way his wife had played him, used him, after suffering such a huge disappointment, he’d made a pact never to get involved again. Yet he’d been involved with Honey from the second he’d seen her in the car. He’d lifted her out, and awareness had sizzled along his nerve endings. He wanted to rail against the truth of that, but knew it wouldn’t do him any good. When he’d caught her stealing keys from the kitchen, his only thought was that she was leaving, not about the damn car, not about the danger she’d be in.

He hadn’t wanted her to go.

He needed to get her out of his system so he could function normally again, instead of teetering between one extreme reaction and another. He didn’t like it. He wanted his calm reserve back. But how?

And then he saw the note and remembered. She’d written a note to explain why she felt it necessary to sneak away from him. His fists clenched, and every muscle pulled taut as he struggled with his fierce temper—a temper he hadn’t even known he had until he’d met Miss Honey Malone. Damn, but it filled him with rage. She didn’t trust him at all, on any level. Curiosity and resentment exploded inside him, and he took two long strides to the mattress and snatched up the sealed envelope. His name was written across the front in a very feminine scrawl. He started to tear it open, but caught himself in time and carefully loosened the seal instead.

She’d written on a cash receipt, probably the only paper she could find on his dresser. All stationery was kept in his office. He drew a deep breath, ready to witness her lame excuses for trying to sneak out—and what he read instead made his knees buckle. He dropped heavily to the side of the bed as his heart raced.

Sawyer,

I know you won’t be happy that I’m leaving this way, but it’s for the best. I’m finding I want you too much to stay. Since you made it clear you’d rather not get involved, and I know it wouldn’t be wise anyway, I have to leave. I can’t trust myself around you.

His eyes widened as he read the words, amazed that she’d written them and even more so that she’d had the audacity to put a smily face there, as well, as if poking fun at herself and her lack of restraint around him. The little drawing looked teasing and playful and made him hard as a stone. She wanted him? And she thought he should be amused by that?

He swallowed hard and finished the note.

To be honest, you’re just too tempting. Shameful of me to admit, but it’s true. And I’m afraid I’m not sure how to deal with it, since I’ve never had to before. I hope you understand.

Please forgive me for taking your car. I’ll leave it at the bus station with the keys inside, so bring a spare set to open it. When I get things resolved, I swear I’ll send you a check to pay for the damage to your fence, and your incredible hospitality. I won’t ever forget you,

Honey

He wanted to go grab her and put her over his knee, not only because she would have risked herself in what he now realized was very real danger, but because she’d have been leaving for all the wrong reasons. And she’d offered him a check. He wanted to howl. He didn’t want her money and he never had. How many times did he have to tell her that?

Morgan tapped on the door and stuck his head inside. “You found the note?”

Sawyer quickly folded it. Since he hadn’t put pants on yet he had nowhere to put it. “Yeah. It, uh, it said she’d leave the car at the bus station with the keys locked inside, just like she told us.”

Morgan crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. He still wore only jeans, but he had at least put the gun away. “I don’t suppose you’d let me see the note?”

“Why?”

“Idle curiosity?”

Sawyer grunted. “Yeah, right. More like plain old nosiness.” Sawyer kept his back to his brother, more than a little aware of how obvious his erection was at this point.

His gaze met Morgan’s in the mirror over the dresser, and he saw Morgan was struggling to contain his grin. “I gather you got something to hide there?”

Opening a drawer and pulling out a casual pair of khakis, Sawyer mumbled negligently, “Don’t know why you’d think that.”

“The way you’re clutching that note? And acting so secretive and protective?” He laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word. Take your time getting dressed. I think I’ll just go round up something to eat.”

“Morgan?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t mention to her that I have the note.”

“Whatever you say, Sawyer.” Then he laughed again and walked away.

After carefully easing his zipper up and buttoning his slacks, Sawyer smoothed out the note, removing the wrinkles caused by his fist. He neatly folded it and slid it into his back pocket, making certain it was tucked completely out of sight. He’d talk to her about the note—hell, yes, he had a lot to say about it—but that could be taken care of after everything else was straightened out.

He didn’t bother with a shirt or shoes, and when he entered the kitchen, he saw the rest of the men had felt the same. Gabe had on shorts; Morgan and Jordan wore jeans.

Honey was at the stove cooking.

His every instinct sharpened at the sight of her. She, too, was barefoot, her hair now pulled back in a long, sleek ponytail that swished right above her pert behind—a smooth, very soft behind he’d stroked with his palms. As he drank in the sight of her with new admiration, he felt like a predator, ready to close in. With that tell-all note, she’d sealed her own fate. He wanted her, and now that he knew she wanted him, too, he’d have her; he wasn’t noble enough to do otherwise. After the other issues were resolved, he’d explain to her one more time how he felt about commitment, and then they’d deal with the personal issue of lust.

He glanced at his brothers who sat around the table like a platoon waiting to be fed, and he frowned. They shrugged back, each wearing a comical face of helplessness. Sawyer growled a curse and stepped up to Honey. “What the hell are you doing?”

Without raising her head, she barked back, “Cooking.”

His brows lifted. He heard one of the brothers snicker. Crossing his arms over his naked chest, he said, “You wanna tell me why?”

She whirled, a hot spatula in her hand, which she pointed at his chest, forcing him to take a hasty step back. “Because I’m hungry. And because they’re hungry!” The spatula swung wildly to encompass the men, who quickly nodded in agreement to her fierce look. “And I’m tired of being coddled and treated like I’m helpless. You want me to stay, fine. I’ll stay. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to lay around and be waited on and feel like I owe the lot of you.”

Sawyer leaned away from the blast of her anger, totally bowled over by this new temperament. Cautiously, he took another step back. “No one wants you to feel beholden.”

“Well, I do!”

“Okay, okay.” He tried to soothe her and got a dirty look for his efforts. “You want to cook, fine,” he added with a calm he didn’t feel.

“Ha! I wasn’t asking your permission. And don’t try that placating tone on me because Jordan already did. And he’s much better at it than you are.”

He glanced at his brother, only to see Jordan’s ears turn red. She was intimidating his brothers! Sawyer crowded close again and opened his mouth, only to meet that spatula once more.

“And don’t try bullying me, because Morgan has been at it since I met him, and I’m not putting up with it anymore. Do you know he told me I wasn’t allowed to cook because I was sick? He tried to force me to sit down. Well, I’ll sit down when I’m good and ready. Not before.”

Sawyer had no idea what had set her off this time, but he almost grinned, anxious to find out. Now that he’d decided against denying himself, he wanted to absorb her every nuance instead of fighting against her allure.

“Am I allowed to ask what you’re cooking, or will you threaten me with that spatula again?”

She tilted her head, saw he wasn’t going to argue with her and nodded. “Grilled ham and cheese. Do you know Gabe was about to give that box of cookies to Casey? Or at least, the ones he hadn’t already eaten. If we’re going to do this interrogation, we might as well eat properly rather than shoving sugar down our throats.”

Sawyer looked at Gabe in time to see him sneak a cookie from his lap and pop it into his mouth. He laughed out loud.

“You think that’s funny? And here you are a doctor. You should be telling them about healthy diets and all that.”

“Honey, have you looked at my brothers? They’re all pretty damn physically fit.”

She tucked her chin in, and a delicate flush rose on her cheeks. “Yeah, well, I noticed, but Casey is still a growing boy. He should eat better.” She put another sandwich on a plate, and it was only then Sawyer noticed there were six plates, meaning she’d made one for him, too. The sandwiches were neatly cut, and there were pickle slices and carrot curls beside them. He honestly didn’t think any of his brothers had ever in their lives eaten carrot curls.

She’d turned the coffeepot off and poured glasses of milk instead. Sawyer started carrying plates to the table, since his brothers had evidently been ordered to sit, given that none of them were moving much. They all looked uncomfortable, but then, they weren’t used to getting waited on. Their mother hadn’t been the type to mollycoddle once they’d all gotten taller than her, which had happened at the tail end of grade school.

“Casey gets more physical exercise than most grown men. And he gets a good variety of things to eat. My mother harped on that plenty when he was first born.”

Casey grinned. “And they’re all still at it. I get measured almost daily to make sure I’m still growing like I should be, and because Grandma calls and checks. She says the good part is, they all eat more vegetables and fruits because they keep the stuff around for me.”

Honey looked slightly mollified by their explanations. Sawyer held her chair out for her, and as she sat, he smoothed his palm down the tail of her hair, letting his fingers trail all the way to the base of her spine, where they lingered for a heartbeat. He imagined her incredible hair, so silky and cool, loose over his naked body as she rode him, his hands clamped on her hips to hold her firm against him. A rush of primal recognition made his breath catch. He wanted to pick her up from the table and carry her off to his room.

Of course he wouldn’t do that, so he ignored the startled look she gave him and forced himself to step away.

Everyone waited until she’d taken her first bite, then they dug in with heartfelt groans of savory appreciation. It was good, Sawyer had to admit, even the damn carrot curls.

Sitting directly across from her, he couldn’t help but watch as Honey took a small bite of her own sandwich. His thoughts wandered again to the note. She wanted him. He forgot to chew as he watched her slender fingers pick up a sliver of carrot, watched her soft lips close around it. He saw her lashes lower, saw soft wisps of blond hair fall over her temple.

Gabe nudged him, and he choked.

“I don’t mean to drag you from whatever ruminations you were mired in, but don’t you want to ask her some questions? I mean, that is why we’re all up at two in the morning, gathered around the table eating instead of sleeping, right?”

Sawyer drank half his milk to wash down the bite of sandwich and nodded. “Come on, Honey. ‘Fess up.”

She sent him a fractious glare, but she did pat her mouth with her napkin, then folded her hands primly as if preparing to be a sacrifice. She didn’t look at anyone in particular, but neither did she lower her face. She stared between him and Gabe, her chin lifted, her shoulders squared.

“I found out my fiancé had only asked to marry me to inherit my father’s assets. All his stock, his company, the family home, is willed to my future husband, whoever the man might be.”

There was a shock of silence as they all tried to comprehend such a mercenary act, but Sawyer was more tuned to her features. This was such a blow to her pride; he saw that now. He shouldn’t have forced this confrontation, certainly not in front of everyone.

“Honey…”

“It doesn’t matter.” She still hadn’t looked at him. Her fingers nervously pleated her napkin, but her chin stayed high. “My father and I never got along. I love him, but I don’t like him much. I think he feels the same way about me. He’s always resented having daughters instead of sons.” Her gaze touched on each of them, and she gave a small smile. “He’d love the lot of you, a household full of big, capable men. But my sister and I never quite measured up.”

“I have to tell you, I don’t like your father much.”

She laughed at Jordan. “Yeah, well, he’s had hell putting up with me. We’ve butted heads since I was sixteen. When I refused to get involved in the business, which is basically electronics, new computer hardware and very state-of-the-art sort of things, he cut me out of his will. I knew it, but I didn’t care. What I didn’t know is that he’d changed the will to benefit the man I’d someday marry.” Her mouth tightened and her eyes flickered away. Then in a whisper, she finished. “When Alden started pursuing me, I thought it was because he cared. Not because he had discovered my father’s intentions.”

There was, of course, the natural barrage of questions. Sawyer got up and moved to sit beside her but remained silent, letting his brothers do the interrogating. He no longer had the heart for it. He picked up her cold hand from her lap and cradled it between his own. She clutched at him, squeezing his fingers tight, but otherwise made no sign of even noticing his touch.

Gently, Gabe asked, “Why didn’t you want to be in your father’s business?”

She answered without hesitation. “It’s a cutthroat environment. Company spies, takeovers, social climbers. It kept my father away from home the entire time my sister and I were growing up. I hate the business. I’d never involve myself in it. I wasn’t even keen on marrying a man who worked for my father. But Alden led me to believe he was content with the position of regional manager, that he didn’t aspire to anything more. It seemed…like a good idea.”

She blushed making that admission, and Sawyer rubbed his thumb over her knuckles to comfort her. “Because your father approved of Alden?”

“Yes.” She looked shamed, and he almost pulled her into his lap, then her shoulders stiffened and he saw her gather herself. In many ways, he was as drawn by her spirit and pride as he was by the sexual chemistry that shimmered between them.

She sighed. “I hadn’t realized I was still trying to gain my father’s approval. But then I went to see Alden at the office, to discuss some of the wedding plans, and his secretary was out to lunch. I heard him talking on the phone about his new status once the marriage was final. I listened just long enough to find out he was making grand plans, all because marrying me would put him in a better social and professional position. It hit me that I was angry and embarrassed over being so stupid, but I wasn’t…I wasn’t lovesick over learning the truth. In fact, I was sort of relieved to have a good reason to break things off, strange as that may sound. So I went back to his house, packed and left him the note.”

Morgan rubbed his chin. “Company status seems like a pretty good reason for him to want you back, to possibly be following you.”

She shrugged. “But why try to hurt me? Why try to run me off the road? Without me, there’d be no marriage and then he’d gain nothing. And when my sister’s house was broken into, what were they looking for? That’s what doesn’t make sense. Alden is already in a good financial position. And as my father’s regional manager, he’s on his way to the top of the company. It’s not like he needed to marry me to get anywhere. All that would accomplish was to speed things along.”

“Maybe.” Morgan finished his last carrot curl, then got up to fetch a pencil and paper. “I want you to write down your father’s name, the company name, addresses for both and for this Alden ass, and anything else you can think of. I’ll check on some things in the morning.” He hushed her before she could speak. “Discreetly. I promise. No one will follow you here from anything I say or do.”

She tugged on Sawyer’s hand, and he released her so she could write. Gabe stood up with a yawn. “I’ll start work on your car tomorrow, as long as you promise you won’t go anywhere without telling one of us first.”

Absently, she nodded, her attention on making her list for Morgan.

“Good. Then I’m off to bed. Come on, Casey. You look like you’re ready to collapse under the table.”

Casey grinned tiredly, but rather than leave, he walked around the table and gave Honey a brief kiss on the forehead. She looked up, appearing both startled and pleased by the gesture.

Casey smiled down at her. “Thanks for the sandwich. It was way better than cookies.”

Morgan gently clasped the back of her neck when he took the note from her. “I can see why you’ve been cautious, but that’s over now, right?”

When she didn’t agree quickly enough, he wobbled her head. “Right?”

She gave him a disgruntled frown. “Yes.”

“Good girl. I’ll see you in the morning. Saywer, you should hit the sack, too. You got almost no sleep the night before, and you’re starting to look like a zombie.”

Sawyer waved him off. He was anxious for everyone to get the hell out of the room. He had a few things he wanted to say to Honey that would be better said in private.

Jordan pulled her out of her chair for a hug. “Sleep tight, Honey. And no more worrying. Everything will be okay now. Sawyer will take good care of you.”

She glanced at Sawyer, then quickly away. He wondered if his intentions showed on his face, given the timid way she avoided looking right at him. He didn’t doubt it was possible. He felt like a sexual powder keg with a very short fuse.

Finally they were alone in the kitchen. Honey gathered up the plates and carried them to the dishwasher, her movements unnaturally jerky and nervous. Sawyer watched her through hot eyes, tracking her as she came back to the table for the glasses.

“You’re feeling better?”

“Yes.” She deftly loaded the dishwasher, as much to keep from looking at him as anything else. He could feel her reservations, her uncertainty. He stepped close enough to inhale her spicy scent, leaning down so his nose almost touched her nape, exposed by the way she’d tied her hair back. She stilled, resting her hands on the edge of the counter. She kept her back to him, and when she spoke, her voice was breathy. “My…my throat is still a little sore, but I don’t feel so wrung out. I think all the sleep helped.”

He crowded closer still and placed his hands beside hers, caging her in. Deliberately he allowed his chest to press against her shoulder blades. “I have patients in the morning, but in the afternoon I’ll take you into town to get a few things.”

“Things?”

“Whatever you might need.” He nuzzled the soft skin beneath her ear. “More clothes, definitely shoes.” His mouth touched her earlobe. “Anything you want.”

“I’ll pay for it myself.”

“Not unless you have cash. Your credit cards can be traced.” He kissed her skin softly, then added, “We can call it a brief loan if that’ll make you feel better.” He had no intention of letting her pay him back, but she didn’t need to know that now. Fighting with her was the absolute last thing on his mind.

Her head fell forward. “All right.”

He pulled his hands slowly from the counter, letting them trail up her arms to her sides, then down and around to her belly. He heard her suck in a quick, startled breath. His body throbbed; he nestled his erection against her soft behind, finding some comfort from the razor edge of arousal and intensifying the ache at the same time. His fingers kneaded her soft, flat belly, and when she moaned, he trailed one hand higher to her breast, free beneath the smooth cotton of the T-shirt.

Just as she’d done the last time he’d touched her there, she jerked violently, as if the mere press of his fingers was both an acute pleasure and an electrifying pain. His heart thundered at the feel of her soft weight in his hand. Her nipple was already peaked, burning against his palm. She’d instinctively pulled backward from the touch of his hand, and now she was pressed hard against him.

He adjusted his hold, one hand clamping on her breast, the other opened wide over her abdomen. In a growled whisper, he said, “I read your note.”

As he’d expected, she exploded into motion, trying to get away. He held her secure with his firm hold and said, “Shh. Shh, it’s all right.”

She sounded panicked. “I…I’d forgotten!”

“I know.” He didn’t release her, adjusting his hold to keep her still, to keep her right where he wanted her. “I should let you sleep. I should give you time to think about this. But I want you too much. Now.”

He could feel her trembling, the rapid hammering of her heart. He turned his hand slightly until his thumb could drag over her sensitive nipple, flicking once, twice. Her hands gripped the countertop hard, and she panted.

Opening his mouth on her throat, he sucked the delicate skin against his teeth. He wanted to mark her; he wanted to devour her. The primitive urges were new to him, but he no longer fought against them. She was his now, and there was no going back.

He caught her nipple between his rough fingertips and plucked gently. She moaned, then gave a soft sob, and all the resistance left her until she stood limp and trembling against him.

“You want me, Honey.”

Her head moved on his shoulder, and her voice was faint with excitement. “Yes. That’s why I had to leave. It’s…too soon, but I was so disappointed when you said you didn’t want me. I knew I couldn’t trust myself….”

He pressed his erection hard against her and wondered what it would be like to take her this way, from behind, her plump breasts filling his hands, her legs quivering….

“It’s only sex, sweetheart. That’s all I can give you.” The words emerged as a rough growl because he didn’t want to say them, didn’t want to take the chance she’d turn him away. But from somewhere deep inside himself, his honor had forced him to admit the truth to her.

To his surprise, she merely nodded, then repeated, “Only sex. That’s probably for the best.”

A surprising wash of indignation hit him, even as he admitted to himself the reaction was totally unfair. She’d only agreed with him, yet he’d thought she felt more. Hedid. Whether or not he admitted it, he knew it was true, and he hated it. He couldn’t get involved. Never again.

He turned her around, then lifted her in his arms. “So be it. At least we’re agreed.”

She clutched at his shoulders and stared up at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”

He was burning up with urgent need, making his pace too rushed. He wanted to take his time with her, but as he looked down at her, seeing the same shimmering heat in her gaze, he wondered if he’d even make it to his room. It seemed much too far away.

“Sawyer?”

Her voice shook, and he bent to place a hard, quick kiss to her soft mouth. “I’m taking you to bed. Then I’m going to strip you naked and make love to you.”

That sexy mouth of hers parted and she gasped. “But…It’s late.”

The bedroom door was already open and he walked in, then quietly shoved it closed with his heel. “If you think I’m going to wait one second more, especially after reading that note, you’re dead wrong.” He lowered her to the mattress, but followed her down, unwilling to have any space between them at all. In one movement he used his knee to open her slender thighs and settled between her legs. He wanted to groan aloud at the exquisite contact, at the feel of her soft body cushioning his. Damn, if he wasn’t careful, he’d come before he ever got inside her.

He cupped her face to make certain he had her attention. “If you’d gotten away today, I’d have come after you.” Her eyes turned dark, her pupils expanding with awareness. “There’s something between us, and damned if I can fight it anymore. I don’t think I could stand going the rest of my life without knowing what it’d be like to have you under me, naked, mine.”

She stared up at him, her breathing fast and low, then with a moan she lifted while at the same time pulling him down. Their mouths met, open, hot, and Sawyer gave up any hopes of slowing down. He’d only known her a few short days, but he felt like he’d been waiting on her for a lifetime.

SHE WAS ALIVE with sensation, aware of Sawyer on every possible level, the hardness of his body, his heat, the way his kiss had turned commanding, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth, stroking. She breathed in his hot, musky, male scent, felt the rasp of a slight beard stubble, and she moaned hungrily. Every touch, every movement, drove her closer to the brink. She’d never experienced this flash fire of desire before and probably would have argued over its existence. But now she was held on the very threshold of exploding, and all he’d done was kiss her.

Her hands moved over his bare back, loving the feel of hot flesh and hard muscle. She’d seen more male perfection in the past two days than most women experienced in a lifetime, but nothing and no one could compare to the man now making love to her. Desperately, she pulled her mouth free and groaned out a plea. “Sawyer…”

It seemed to be happening too fast. Her body was taut, her breasts swollen and acutely sensitive. And where his pelvis pushed against her, she ached unbearably.

“It’s all right,” he whispered against her mouth, the words rushed and low. “Let me get this shirt off you.”

Before he’d finished speaking, the T-shirt was tugged above her breasts. He paused, staring down at her with black eyes, and one large hand covered her right breast. His fingertips were caloused, and they rasped over her puckered nipple, around it, pinching lightly. She cried out, her body arching hard. The pleasure was piercing, sharp, pulling her deeper. He soothed her with mumbled words, then bent, and his mouth replaced his hand.

With a gasp, her eyes opened wide. She couldn’t bear it. His mouth was so hot, his tongue rough, and then he started sucking. Hard. All the while his hips moved in that tantalizing rhythm against her in a parody of what was to come. She lost her fragile grasp on control, unaware of everything but the implosion of heat, the wave of sensation that made her muscles ripple and her skin burn, the link between her breasts and her groin and the way he touched her, how he moved against her…

Without thought, she dug her nails into his bare shoulders and she tightened her thighs around his hard hips, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and groaning long and low with the intensity of her orgasm.

After a moment the feelings began to subside, leaving her shaken and confused. Sawyer raised his head, his lips wet, his eyes blazing. He stared at her and whispered, “Damn.”

She shared his sentiments. Shock mingled with sated desire. She hadn’t even known such a thing was possible, much less that it would ever happen to her. She wasn’t, in the normal course of things, an overly sexual woman, and gaining her own pleasure had always been an elusive thing, not a bombarding rush.

He kissed her gently, and all she could do was struggle for breath, unable to even pucker for his kiss. His hand trembled as he smoothed hair away from her face, now pulled loose from the string she’d tied it back with. “I didn’t expect that,” he admitted, still softly, with awe.

She swallowed hard, trying to gain her bearings. A pleasurable throb reverberated through her limp muscles. She could barely think. “Wh…what?”

He touched her cheek and a gentle smile lit up his face. Without a word, he sat up astride her thighs and pulled the T-shirt the rest of the way off, lifting each arm as if she were a child. “You are so damn sweet.”

She covered her aching breasts with her hands, shyness over what had just happened engulfing her. Sawyer ignored the gesture as he looked at her body with an absorption that left her squirming. His hands smoothed over her shoulders, down her sides. He touched her navel with his baby finger, dipping lightly, then flicking open the snap to her jeans.

“I want you naked. I want to look my fill.”

What he said and the heat in his words made her entire body blush. He smiled, then moved to the side of her to wrest her jeans down her legs. “Lift your hips.”

She swallowed her embarrassment and did as he asked, anxious to see what would come next. So far, nothing had been as she’d anticipated, or what she’d come to expect between men and women. Then he took her panties with her jeans, and as he looked at the curls between her legs, she squeezed her eyes shut.

They snapped open again when the bed dipped and she felt his mouth gently brush over the top of one thigh. “Sawyer!”

He reversed the position of his upper body so that he faced the foot of the bed; his arms caged her hips and again he kissed her, this time flicking his tongue out and tasting her skin. “Open your legs for me,” he growled low.

She released her breasts to clutch at the sheet, trying to ground herself against the unbearable eroticism of his command. He didn’t hurry her, didn’t repeat his order. He merely waited and finally, after two deep breaths, she found the courage to do as he asked. She felt stiff with expectation and nervousness and excitement as she felt herself slowly exposed.

He made a low rasping sound of appreciation, then whispered, “Wider.”

Shaking from head to toe, she bent one knee, and with a raw groan, he took swift advantage. She felt his hot moist breath, the touch of his lips on the inside of her thigh, then higher, until he was there, kissing her, nuzzling into her femininity. With a jolt of red hot lust, she lifted her hips, the movement involuntary and instinctive, offering herself to him completely.

“Easy, sweetheart.” His hands slid under her, locking around her thighs, keeping her still. Keeping her wide open.

She felt the bold stroke of his tongue, then the seeking press of his lips before he found what he wanted and treated her to another, more gentle but twice as devastating suckle.

She was sensitive and swollen from her recent climax, and the feel of his mouth there was both a relief and a wild torment. She had a single moment of cognizance and pulled a pillow over her head to muffle her raw cries, and then she was climaxing again. And again. Sawyer reveled in her reactions, and she found he could be totally ruthless when he chose to be. He used his fingers, gently manipulating her. He used his tongue to make her beg, his teeth to make her gasp. And she gladly obeyed.

When he stood by the side of the bed, she no longer tried to cover herself. She doubted she could move. Her legs were still sprawled, her breasts trembling with her low, shallow breaths, but she didn’t care. She felt replete and wrung out and willingly pliant.

Sawyer shucked off his jeans, his face dark with desire, his breathing labored. Honey let her head fall to the side so she could see him better, and through narrowed, slumberous eyes, she took in the gorgeous sight of his naked body. Though she didn’t move, her heart gave a heavy thump at the sight he presented.

His shoulders and chest were wide, his stomach hard, his thighs long and muscled. The hair around his groin was darker, and his erection was long and thick, pulsing in impatience. She shuddered at the sight of it, wondering if she could bear taking him inside when everything else he’d done had already shattered her. She felt emotionally raw, unable to cope with the depth of what she’d experienced, of what he could so easily make her feel.

She watched as he opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a slim pack of condoms. He tore one open and deftly slid it on, then turned to stare down at her.

She whispered, “I didn’t know, didn’t think…” but she couldn’t put into words the way he’d made her feel, how it both thrilled and alarmed her. She could tell by the grim set of his features he understood, and to some degree, felt the same. They both resented the strength of the desire between them. Mere sex shouldn’t be so consuming, so uncontrollable.

“I can feel you everywhere,” she added in the same low tone, almost fearfully because she’d never suspected sex could be so wild and forceful, to the point she was helpless against it. Her skin still tingled, her senses alive though her body was sated.

Remaining at the side of the bed, his eyes hot on her face, Sawyer reached down and cupped his hand over her sex. His fingers moved gently between her slick folds until they opened; he pressed his middle finger inside her, and his eyes closed on a groan. “Damn, you’re wet and tight.”

Honey bit her lip and tears seeped from the corners of her eyes as she struggled to accept this new onslaught of sensation. “It’s…it’s too much, Sawyer.”

“And not enough,” he rasped, then came into the bed over her.

She opened herself to him without reserve, lifting her face for his kiss. Though the hunger was still tightly etched in his features, his kiss was gently controlling. He took his time, making love to her mouth, bringing her desire back into full swing.

“Please.”

Sawyer cupped her face and stared into her eyes. “Wrap your legs high around my waist. That’s it. Now hold me tight.”

His voice was so low and gruff she could barely understand him. She felt him probing, his erection pressing just inside, burning and appeasing, and her heart swelled. She gave a shuddering sob and closed her eyes, but he kissed her and said, “Look at me, Honey.”

It was so wonderful, it hurt. She cried while she stared at him, not out of sadness, but from inexplicable pleasure. She knew she’d probably fallen in love within the first hour of meeting him. She drew her palms down his chest to his small brown nipples and smoothed over them, determined to take everything she could. His expression hardened and he locked his jaw, rocking against her, entering her by excruciatingly slow degrees. She lifted her hips to hurry him along and was rewarded with his harsh groan. His muscles rippled and tightened, and then he thrust hard with a curse.

Honey held on to him, stunned by the shock of pleasure as he filled her. He tangled his fingers in her hair and locked his mouth onto hers and rode her hard. His chest rubbed against her stiffened nipples, his hips grinding into her with an incredible friction, his scent invading her.

She screamed as she climaxed, and Sawyer, still kissing her, swallowed the sound. He held her so close she felt a part of him. He held her and kissed her until she’d relaxed and then continued doing so even as he found his own release, his hold almost crushing it became so tight.

The kiss dwindled, turning light and soft and lazy as Sawyer sank onto her. His heartbeat rocked them both, and still he kept kissing her, easily, consuming her, soft lazy kisses that went on and on.

A noise in the hallway made him lift his head. He stared toward the closed door, and Honey couldn’t remember if he’d locked it or not. After a second of squeaking floor-boards, she heard Morgan call softly, “Sawyer?”

Sawyer dropped his forehead onto hers with a muffled curse. He swallowed, took two deep breaths and said with feigned calm, “Yeah?”

“Ah, I heard a scream. Again. But I’ll assume you’re…kissing her again.” There was a slight chuckle. “Carry on.” Then the sound of retreating footsteps.

Honey wanted to cover her face; she even wanted to blush. She couldn’t manage either one. She closed her eyes and started to drift off to sleep. Sawyer kissed her slack mouth, smoothed his rough hand over her cheek, then rolled to her side. He was silent for a few minutes, and she felt the weight of lethargy settle into her bones. Right before she dozed off, she heard him murmur, “God knows I got more than I bargained for, but I intend to keep taking it while you’re here.”

And how long would that be, she wondered? Two days, maybe three? With Gabe fixing her car and Morgan checking into things, she wouldn’t have much time at all. But like Sawyer, she intended to make every minute count.

In the next instant, she was sound asleep.

SAWYER WATCHED HONEY with a brooding intensity. She’d been here two weeks now, and he’d made love to her at least twice a day. Yet it wasn’t enough, and he’d begun to doubt there could ever be enough. She wasn’t out of his system—far from it. It seemed the more he had her, the more he wanted her, to the point he could think of little else.

She’d integrated herself completely into their lives. She now took turns cooking and cleaning, regardless of how they all complained. Unlike the other women who on rare occasions had visited the house, Honey didn’t suggest they should sit and let her do it all. She didn’t excuse them from duty just because they were male. No, she willingly allowed them their fair share. But she wanted to do her own part, too.

Seeing her in his kitchen cooking made him want her.

Seeing her pulling weeds from the flower beds around the house made him want her.

And listening to her argue with his brothers or coddle his son really made him burn with lust. Dammit. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.

It was late in the day, and a barrage of patients had kept him busy for several solid hours. He hadn’t had a chance to visit with her as he usually did. Twice she had poked her head into his office to offer him lunch or a quick snack. Even seeing her for those brief moments had brightened his day, as if he’d grown accustomed to her and had been suffering withdrawal from her absence.

He didn’t like the feeling. Never before had he felt annoyed by having so many patients, or having to deal with the occasional imaginary illness. He was known for his patience and kindness, not his lust.

But lust today had ruled him, just as it had since he’d first laid eyes on her.

Right now, Honey was hanging over Gabe’s shoulder while he looked at her car engine. Gabe had done a fair job of taking his time on the car. He’d ordered unnecessary parts, replaced things that didn’t need replacing and generally stalled as long as he could. But Honey was getting antsy. There’d been no sign of the men after her, and Morgan hadn’t been able to turn up a damn thing, though he’d alerted several people in town to let him know of any strangers passing through. Now all they could do was wait, but Honey was done waiting. She’d gotten it into her head that she was taking advantage of them and therefore should get out from underfoot.

Sawyer grunted to himself as he leaned on the shed door, watching her and Gabe together. His hair was still wet from his recent shower, but the heat pounding down on his head and radiating from the lush ground would quickly dry it. Already his T-shirt was starting to stick to his back, and his temper felt precarious at best, in sync with the sweltering summer weather and his disturbing thoughts of a woman he shouldn’t want, but did.

Honey had no way of knowing her presence here had been carefully staged. His brothers had manipulated things so that she had no reason, and no way, to leave. Between Gabe toying with her car and Jordan supplying her everything she could possibly need from town, she’d had no reason to step foot off his property, which was how his brothers had planned it.

He appreciated their efforts, but they couldn’t know what it was costing him.

Honey suddenly straightened and put her hands on her shapely hips. She glared at Gabe suspiciously while a sunbeam slanting through a high window in the large shed got caught in her fair hair, forming a halo. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Gabe grinned and touched the tip of her nose with a grease-covered finger, leaving a smudge behind. “Of course I know what I’m doing, sweetie. Relax.”

They’d all taken to calling her sweetie since they insisted on using an endearment, and her name was just that—her name. Honey had laughed and said that at least this way she could be distinguished from the mule and the cat and the various other assorted animals wandering the land.

Today she had on shorts Jordan had brought her. He’d made the purchases to keep Sawyer from taking her to town, afraid that once she was there, she’d find a way to sneak off. And none of them wanted her to do that.

But to Sawyer’s mind, Jordan’s fashion sense left a lot to be desired. The shorts were too short, displaying the long length of her slim legs and emphasizing the roundness of her pert little butt. But when he’d suggested as much, he’d gotten jeered by his brothers, who seemed to take maniacal delight in commenting on his every thought these days.

He still thought the shorts were too short, but he now suffered in silence. Just as he did when she wore the new skimpy cotton tank tops, or the flirty sundresses, or the lightweight summer nightgowns and robe. Then again, he didn’t completely approve of any of the things she now wore. Jordan and Gabe had gotten together and figured out a list of everything she’d need, including some very basic female items he’d never have considered in his lust-induced fog. They’d also shown her where to add neccessities to the list kept posted on the front of the fridge. So now, among the items of aftershave and car oil, face cream and fingernail files had been added.

Every day it seemed she became a bigger part of their lives, and he didn’t know what he was going to do when she eventually left. Which she would. Because once she was safe, he wouldn’t ask her to stay.

Honey, tired of watching Gabe fumble under the hood of her car, turned to flounce out of the shed. When she caught sight of him, her face lit up with a warmth that filled him to overflowing. “Sawyer! I didn’t know you were here.”

As usual, her eyes ate him up and sexual tension immediately vibrated between them. But she never touched him in front of anyone, too concerned with trying to keep their intimate involvement private. He didn’t have the heart to point out his brothers were far from idiots and had already deduced more than he’d ever admitted even to himself. Besides, the fact she touched everyone but him was pretty telling, like the drunk who overenunciated to hide his state of inebriation. Honey was what Gabe called a touchy-feely woman, always hugging and patting people she cared about. And she cared about all of them, that was painfully obvious.

It was one of the main reasons his brothers insisted on prolonging her stay. Not that he’d let her leave anyway until the issue of her safety was resolved.

And that was the topic he brought up now. As she neared, he braced himself and said, “I think you should call your fiancé.”

Just like that, the light died in her eyes and her welcome became wary, twisting at his heart. She stalled, her new sandals kicking up dust on the shed floor as she came to a standstill. She tried a sickly smile that made him ache. “My fiancé?”

“Ex-fiancé. This Alden idiot.”

Gabe quickly wiped off his hands and strode over to them. “What the hell are you talking about, Sawyer?”

Sawyer rubbed his neck, trying to ease his growing tension. He didn’t like the idea much himself. If he had his way, he’d never let her get within shouting distance of the bastard. But he couldn’t take the pressure anymore, waiting for something to happen so they could act and put an end to it. And he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her.

To get things settled, they had to force the issue, and calling her ex was the only way he could think of to do it.

He stared down at her and resisted the urge to hold her close. “Morgan and I discussed it. We both still think Alden is involved somehow. You said yourself that his behavior was strange. The only problem is finding the link. If you call him, we can listen in and maybe we’ll catch something you missed.”

Her expression turned mulish, so he quickly clarified. “I’m not suggesting we’re any better at this than you are. But at the time you left, you were upset. Now you’re calm, and we’re totally detached.” Only he wasn’t. He was in so far, he didn’t know if he’d ever see daylight again. He cleared his throat and forged on. “Between us we might pick up a small detail that will make sense. I know the waiting is hard on you.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. “I was just telling Gabe that I think I should stop imposing on you all.”

His stomach knotted. “And no doubt Gabe told you that was nonsense.”

“Well, yes.”

Gabe put his arm around her shoulders. “Damn right I did. She’s not going anywhere until we know it’s safe.”

“And this is the best way to find out if it is or not,” Sawyer replied, trying to ignore the way Gabe held her and the hot jealousy he couldn’t deny. The only male who could touch her without setting off his possessive alarms was his son. And it was a good thing, since Casey seemed even more inclined than the rest to dote on her. Sawyer was almost certain Casey had his own agenda in mind, but unlike the others, Casey wasn’t as easy to figure out. He’d always been a mature kid, proud and too smart for his own good, but he’d never been overly demonstrative with anyone but the family. In fact, he was usually more closed off, keeping his thoughts and feelings private. The way he’d so openly accepted Honey was enough to raise a few brows.

“You plan to set some bait?” Gabe asked, pulling Honey even closer as if to shield her. From Sawyer.

He scowled and nudged Gabe away, looping his own arm around Honey and hauling her up possessively against him, regardless of her chagrined struggle. “Not exactly bait. You know I wouldn’t endanger her. But I want her to come right out and tell the bastard that she’s been followed, that she’s in hiding, that she damn well might go to the police despite her father’s absurd edict if she doesn’t get some answers. There’s a good chance Alden will slip up and give something away.”

Gabe gave a thoughtful nod. “It’s not a bad plan. If he’s innocent, we should be able to tell, don’t you think?”

“I would hope.”

Honey stepped away from both men. “Do I have any say-so in this?”

Sawyer looked at her warily. In the past two weeks he’d come to learn her moods well. Right now she was plenty peeved, and when Honey wasn’t happy, she had no qualms about letting them all know it. The fact that she was one small woman in a household of five large men didn’t appear to intimidate her one bit. “Uh…sure.”

“Then no. I’m not doing it. What if Alden is at the heart of it all? What if he traces the call? He’s certainly capable of doing that. Then the trouble could land right here at your own front door.”

“And you still don’t trust us to take care of you?” His temper started a slow boil; this was a constant bone of contention between them. “You think we’re all so helpless we’d let someone hurt you? That I’d let anyone hurt you?”

In a sudden burst of temper, she went on tiptoes and jutted her chin at Sawyer. “I’m not thinking of me, dammit! I’m thinking of you and your family!”

Gabe glanced at Sawyer, a comical look of disbelief on his face. “She’s trying to protect us?”

Sawyer crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, thoroughly bemused and annoyed. “Looks that way.”

Throwing her hands into the air, Honey shouted, “You’re not invincible!”

Sawyer rolled his eyes to the heavens. He wanted to shake her, and he wanted to take her back into the shed, slam the door on the world and make love to her again. Just that morning, right before dawn, he’d slipped into her bed and attempted to rouse her with gentle kisses and touches. But things always turned wild with Honey, no matter his resolve. When he’d left the room for his office shortly after seven o’clock, he’d been totally spent, and his legs had been shaking from the vigorous lovemaking they’d indulged in. Honey had gone soundly back to sleep. He’d never known a person who could sleep as hard and sound as she did. She’d be awake one moment, gone the next, especially after sex. A marching band could go through the room, and she wouldn’t stir so much as an eyelash.

Now, it felt like months since he’d touched her. He turned away. “We’re not dealing with organized crime, sweetheart. Buckhorn is a small county without a lot of need for reinforcements. It’s natural for us to rely on ourselves to take care of problems whenever possible. But until we figure out exactly who is after you, we’re helpless. Getting more information is the only sensible thing to do.”

She looked ready to kick dirt at him, then she turned on her heel and stomped back to the shed. Gabe stared after her. She went to the back of the car and opened the trunk.

“I can’t keep messing with her car much longer. She’s starting to get suspicious. If I don’t fix it soon, she’ll figure it out, or else she’ll decide I’m an inept idiot. I don’t relish either prospect.”

Sawyer’s smile was grim. “Yeah, you must’ve changed everything that can be changed by now.”

“Just about. Changing a few parts that had to be ordered was a stroke of genius, if I say so myself.” Gabe shrugged. “I don’t think she knows it’s in better running order now than ever, but to be on the safe side, I took a few wires off in case she decides to give it a try. I’m still not willing to trust her to stay put.”

“We can’t keep her here forever.”

Gabe rubbed some grease off his thumb, trying to look indifferent. But Sawyer heard the calculating tone to his words. “I don’t see why not.”

Sawyer sighed. “Because this isn’t her home. She has a sister who’s dying to see her again, despite the reassurances Honey gave her over the phone.” Honey had called her sister, Misty, the morning she’d accepted the fact they wouldn’t let her leave while there was danger. Misty had been relieved that her sister was safe, and very curious about the men she was staying with. Sawyer had spoken a few words with her, trying to allay her concerns. Misty had a husky voice and a lot of loyalty. Sawyer had liked her instantly.

“She can call her sister again. That’s not a problem. Or better yet, her sister could visit her here.”

All the brothers were curious about Misty Malone, much to Honey’s amusement. Sawyer sighed. “She also has some issues she needs to resolve with her father.”

“Ha! I personally think she’d be better off never laying eyes on the man again.”

“If everything she’s told us is accurate, then I’d agree. But I’ve never met the man and I have no idea what motivates him.”

“You’re defending him?”

Sawyer understood Gabe’s disbelief. From what she’d said, Honey’s father wasn’t an easy man to like. “You’ve met Honey. You’ve gotten to know her in the last few weeks. Do you honestly believe any male could be so immune to her, but especially her father?”

Gabe seemed to chew that over. “I see what you mean. She’s such a sweetheart, she’s hard to resist. No, I can’t imagine a man, any man, not loving her on sight.”

Sawyer felt those words like a sucker punch in the solar plexis. It took his breath away. “I wasn’t talking about love, dammit.”

With a pitying look, Gabe shook his head. “Be glad you staked a claim first, Sawyer, because just about anyone else would be more than glad to talk about love. Maybe you should remember that while you’re being so pigheaded.”

It took two steps for Sawyer to be chest to chest with his youngest brother. Through his teeth, he growled, “Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Gabe didn’t back down, but then Sawyer would have been surprised if he had. Instead, he took a step closer so they almost touched, and his eyes narrowed. “It means, you stubborn ass, that she’s—”

Honey suddenly shoved herself between them. She had a large box in her hands, and her scowl was hotter than the blazing sunshine. “Don’t you two start! I’ve got enough to worry about right now without having to listen to you bicker!”

Flustered, Sawyer glared one more time at Gabe then forcefully took the box from Honey. “Men don’t bicker.”

“Ha! You were both muttering low and growling and acting like bulldogs facing off over a meaty bone. It’s absurd for brothers to carry on that way.”

Gabe blinked at her. “We were just…uh, discussing things.”

“Uh-huh. Like what?”

Sawyer stared at her, stymied for just a moment, then he hefted the box. “What the hell have you got in here?”

Sidetracked, she said, “My stereo stuff. It’s been in the trunk. Thank goodness nothing got wet when I went in the lake. Since I’ve had no reason to listen to music lately, I’d almost forgotten about it—until Casey and I decided to dance.”

Gabe muffled a startled laugh. “You’re going to what?”

She sniffed in disdain at his attitude. “Dance. To my music. What you men listen to is appalling.”

Gabe trotted along beside them as Sawyer started toward the house with the box. “It’s called country and it’s damn good.”

She made a face. “Yes, well, I prefer rock and roll.”

“This oughta be good.”

Her gaze turned to Gabe. “You plan to watch?”

“Hell, yes.”

“If you do,” she warned, as if she could make him reconsider, “you’ll have to dance, too.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Sawyer marched through the back door, through the kitchen, down the hall and into the family room. The stereo was on a built-in shelf beside the huge stone fireplace centered on the outside wall. The speakers hung from the pine walls in four locations beneath the cathedral ceiling. This room wasn’t carpeted, but instead had a large area rug in a Native American motif that covered the middle of the polished wood floor. Facing the front of the house, it had a wall of windows reaching to the ceiling, shaded by the enormous elms out front. Two comfortable couches, a variety of padded armchairs and some eclectic tables hand-made from area denizens filled the room.

The first time they’d all gotten together and played music and chess and arm wrestled, in general goofing off and relaxing, Honey had looked agog at all the noise. Their boisterous arguments over the chess match, more intense than those over the wrestling, almost drowned out the country songs, and she had winced as if in pain. After half an hour she’d claimed a headache and said she was going down by the lake to sit on the dock and enjoy the evening air and quiet.

Sawyer had promptly followed her, ignoring the gibes of his brothers and Casey’s ear-to-ear grin. Knowing he wouldn’t be interrupted, not when they all worked so hard at conniving just such a situation for him, he’d made love to her under the stars. Dew from the lake had dampened their heated bodies, and Honey’s soft moans were enhanced by the sounds of gentle waves lapping at the shore. Now, looking at her face, he could tell she was remembering, too.

He dropped the box and took a step toward her. Her eyes suddenly looked heavy, the pulse in her throat raced, her skin flushed. Damn, he was getting hard.

Casey hit him in the back. “Snap out of it, Dad. I’m too young to see this, and Uncle Gabe is about to fall down laughing.”

Sawyer scowled at Gabe, who lifted his hands innocently even though his shoulders were shaking with mirth, then he turned to Casey and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Where did you come from?”

“Well, according to you and that talk we had when I was seven—”

Sawyer put him a headlock and mussed his hair. “Smart ass. You know that wasn’t what I meant.”

The second Casey twisted free, laughing, Honey stepped forward and smoothed his hair back down. And he let her, grinning the whole time. Casey was a good head and a half taller than Honey, with shoulders almost twice as wide. Yet he let her mother on him. And every damn time she did, something inside Sawyer softened to the point of pain. He loved Casey so much, had loved him from the first second he’d held him as a squalling, red-faced infant, regardless of all the issues present, that anyone else who loved him automatically earned a place in his heart.

She finished with Casey’s hair and gave him a hug of greeting. Sawyer felt ridiculously charmed once again—and he hated it.

“I brought in my music,” she told Casey, as if any reprieve from country music was the equivalent of being spared the gallows. Casey hadn’t yet told her he actually liked country. “You want to take a look, see if anything interests you?”

“That’d be great. I’ll check them out as soon as I’ve washed up.”

Gabe stood to stretch. “You get everything taken care of, Case?”

He nodded, then turned to Sawyer. “When Mrs. Hartley left here today, I saw she was limping.”

Sawyer pulled his thoughts away from Honey with an effort. “She twisted her ankle the other day rushing in from her car when it was raining.”

“She told me. So I followed her over there to help her out. I got her grass cut and did some weeding, then went to the grocery for her.” To Honey, he said, “Mrs. Hartley is close to seventy, and she’s real sweet. She’s the librarian in town, and she orders in the books I like.”

Honey laced her fingers together at her waist and beamed at Casey. “What a thoughtful thing to do! I’m so proud of you.”

Casey actually blushed. “Uh, it was no big deal. Anyone would have done the same.”

“That’s not true.” Honey’s smile was gentle, warm. “The world is filled with selfish people who never think of others.”

The men exchanged glances. They really didn’t think too much of helping out, since it was second nature to them. But Sawyer supposed to Honey it did seem generous, given the men she’d known.

Gabe saved Casey from further embarrassment by throwing an arm around him and hustling him along. “Go get washed so we can put the music on. I’m getting anxious.” He winked at Honey, and then they were gone.

The family room had open archways rather than doors that could be closed, so they weren’t afforded any real privacy, but already Sawyer felt the strain of being alone with her. He looked at her with hot eyes and saw she was studying some of the framed photos on the wall. There were pictures of all of them, but the majority were of Casey at every age.

Sawyer came up behind her and kissed her nape. He felt desperate to hold her, to stave off time, and he looped his arms around her. “Mmm. You smell good.”

He could feel her smile, hear it in her response. “You always say that.”

“Because you always smell so damn good.” He nipped her ear. “It makes me crazy.”

She leaned against him, and her tone turned solemn. “You’ve done an excellent job with Casey. I don’t think I’ve ever known a more giving, understanding or mature kid. He’s serious, but still fun-loving, sort of a mix of all of you. He’s incredible.” She leaned her head back to smile up at Sawyer. “But then, he inherited some pretty incredible genes, being your son.”

Sawyer’s arms tightened for the briefest moment, making her gasp, then he released her. He shoved his hands into his back pockets and paced away. Maybe, considering he had insisted she call her fiancé tonight, he should at least explain a few things.

Honey touched his arm. “What is it?”

“Casey’s not really mine.” He no sooner said it than he shook his head. “That is, he’s mine in every way that counts. But I didn’t father him. I don’t know who his father is—and neither did his mother.”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

Sawyer laughed at himself. He made no sense, so her confusion was expected. “My wife cheated. Alot. She didn’t like my long hours studying, or my distraction with school in general. By the time Casey was born, I’d already filed for a divorce. It wasn’t easy for her. She had no family, and she wasn’t happy about the divorce. In fact, she was crushed by it. She pleaded with me not to leave her, but she…well, once I knew she’d been with other men, I couldn’t forgive her. I understood it, but I couldn’t forgive.”

Honey wrapped her arms around him from behind, leaning her head on his back. She didn’t say anything, just held onto him.

“I’d been sort of taking care of her for a long time, since high school even. Her parents died when she was seventeen, and an aunt took her in, but then she died, too, when Ashley was nineteen. She never had a job, and the idea of getting one horrified her. I just…I dunno. It seemed logical to marry her, to take care of her. We’d been dating forever, and I felt sorry for her, and there was no one else I wanted.”

Honey kissed his back, showing her understanding. “Why did she cheat?”

Sawyer shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know. She seemed plenty satisfied with…” He stalled, casting her a quick look.

“She seemed satisfied with you sexually? Of course she did. You’re an incredible man, Sawyer.” Her small hands were flat on his abdomen, making him catch his breath as she idly stroked him, meaning to offer comfort, but arousing him instead. All she had to do was breathe to turn him on; her touch made him nearly incoherent with lust.

“You’re also an incredible lover,” she added huskily, making his muscles twitch. “No woman would have complaints.”

He looked away again. When she said things like that, it made him want to toss her on the couch and strip her clothes off. He reacted like an uncivilized barbarian, ready to conquer. Feeling a tad uncomfortable with that analogy, he rushed through the rest of his explanation. “She told me she felt neglected, so she cheated. And then she couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t forgive her, because in her mind, it was my fault. I filed for divorce, but then I found out she was several months pregnant. She was angry and taunted me with the fact it wasn’t mine. But by then, I hardly cared. It was an embarrassment, but little else.”

“Did everyone know?”

“Not at first. She got over being mad and just started pleading with me to take her back. She fought the damn divorce tooth and nail. I tried to be considerate with her, but I was also in the middle of med school and I had my hands full. When she went into labor, she begged me to go the hospital with her.” He got quiet as he remembered that awful day, his guilt, his feelings of helplessness. His family had wanted to be supportive, but no one knew what to do. The entire town had watched the drama unfold, and it was painful.

“There was no one else,” he murmured, “and I couldn’t leave her there alone. So I went. And after they handed me Casey,Ashley told me she was putting him up for adoption.”

He shook his head, once again feeling the utter disbelief. After holding Casey for just a few short hours, he knew he wouldn’t let him go. It wasn’t the baby’s fault his mother had been discontent in her marriage, and while wonderful adoptions existed, he wouldn’t put it to the chance.

He pulled away from Honey and went to stare blindly at a photo of Casey as a toddler. In a hoarse tone, he admitted, “I signed the birth certificate, claiming him as my own, and dared her to fight me on it.” His throat felt tight, and he swallowed hard. “We’re not without influence here. My family has been a force since my father’s days, and Ashley knew in a battle she didn’t stand a chance. She hadn’t wanted Casey, and I damn sure did, so she reluctantly agreed. For awhile, she was bitter about it. I don’t know who all she complained to, but everyone around here knew the whole private story within days. They knew, but they didn’t dare say anything.”

Honey didn’t approach him this time. She kept her distance and spoke in a whisper. “Where’s his mother now?”

“I’m not sure. She got ostracized by the town, not because of me, because I swear I tried to make it easy on her. But she was bitter and that bitterness set everyone against her. She moved away, and last I heard, she’d remarried and moved to England. That was years ago. Casey knows the truth, and I’ve tried to help him understand her and her decisions. And my own.”

“You feel responsible.”

He turned to face her. “I can’t excuse myself from it, Honey. I played a big part in her actions. She resented my sense of obligation to others, and I resented her interference in my life. I like taking care of people, and I like being a doctor, yet that’s what drove her away. She wanted more of my time, and I didn’t want to give it to her, not if it meant taking away from my family and the community.”

“And you don’t ever want a wife to…interfere that way again?”

“I don’t want to run the risk of another scandal. I haven’t changed.”

Her smile was gentle as she crossed the floor and hugged herself up against him. “There’s no reason you should. You accept the influence of your name, but also the responsibility of it, like a liege lord, and you handle that responsibility well. If Ashley didn’t understand, it’s not your fault.”

“She was my wife.”

“She was also a grown woman who made her own terrible decisions. I can only imagine how you felt, with everyone knowing the truth, but I’m sure no one blames you.”

“I blame myself.”

She burrowed against him, her small body pressed tight to his own. Damn, but he wanted her.

All his life he’d been surrounded by family and neighbors and friends. That wouldn’t change, but he knew when Honey left, he’d feel alone. And for the first time in his life he felt vulnerable, a feeling he instinctively fought against.

He wrapped his fist in her hair and turned her face up for his kiss. She tried to dodge his mouth, wanting to talk, to instruct him on his sense of obligation, but he wouldn’t allow it. With a low growl, he held her closer and roughly took her mouth, pushing his tongue inside, stemming any protest she might make.

Just as she always did, Honey kissed him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hands clutched his shirt, and she went on her tiptoes to seal the space between them.

Sawyer groaned. He pulled his mouth free and kissed her throat, her chin. “I hate feeling like this,” he said, meaning the way his need for her consumed him beyond reason. There were so many other things to consider right now, and all he wanted to do was get inside her.

Honey pressed her fingers to his mouth, and though she smiled, her eyes looked damp. “You feel responsible for me, and you’re trying to do the right thing, because that’s who you are. You help people by giving. You take in strays, both people and animals.”

“The animals are Jordan’s.”

“But they’re accepted by you. By all of you. Your wife was a stray. I’m a stray.”

He grasped her arms and shook her slightly. “Dammit, Honey, I care about you.”

She gave a soft, sad chuckle. “You care about everyone, Sawyer. But I don’t want or need anyone to take care of me. This time, you aren’t responsible.”

“I wasn’t making comparisons, dammit.” His frustration level shot through the roof as he tried to find a balance for the feelings.

“I know.” Her hand cupped his jaw, her eyes filled with emotion. “I won’t lie and tell you I don’t want a family. I was willing to marry a despicable creep like Alden for it, and he couldn’t offer half what you do with your nosy, domineering brothers and your incredible son and your unshakable honor. But I have no intentions of clinging to a loveless relationship. I tried that with Alden, and look where it got me.” She smiled, then shook her head. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I decided I deserve to be loved. I deserve a family of my own, and a happily ever after. I would never settle for anything less now.”

Her words left him empty, made him want to protect her, to ask her to stay forever. But the one time he’d tried marriage it had been for all the wrong reasons. Now, he wanted Honey horribly, but he just didn’t know about love, not a romantic, everlasting love. All he knew for certain was the uncontrollable lust that drove him wild.

She looked up into his face, her eyes soft, her expression softer, then she sighed. “Don’t look so stern, Sawyer. You haven’t done anything wrong. You didn’t make me any false promises, and you didn’t take advantage of me.” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “All you did was show me how men can and should be. And for that, more than anything, I thank you.”

She stepped away and drew a deep breath. “So, now that we’ve cleared that up, what do you say I make that phone call?”

He wanted to say to hell with it; he wanted to shake her for being so nonchalant about her own feelings.

Trying for a detachment he didn’t possess, he glanced at his watch. “Morgan should be home soon. Then we’ll call.”

From the open doorway, Morgan growled, “I’m home now.”

Sawyer looked up and saw his brother lounging there, arms crossed belligerently over his chest, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. He looked like a thundercloud. How much had he heard? Obviously enough, given his extra-ferocious scowl.

First Gabe, and now Morgan. They didn’t approve of his methods, his urgency in getting the issue resolved. Despite what he’d told Gabe and Honey, Morgan had argued with him over the idea of contacting Alden. Morgan had called him an ass for denying that he cared. Sawyer had countered that he’d only known her for a little over two weeks, which had made Morgan snort in derision. You knew Ashley for a short lifetime, but that didn’t make the relationship any better. Truthful words that had been gnawing at him all day.

Sawyer abruptly headed for the doorway to call Gabe and Jordan in, determined to blot Morgan’s warning from his mind. Once the brothers were all collected, Sawyer noticed Honey wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. It was as if she’d shut him out, already removing herself from him. He hated it, but told himself it was for the best.

The brothers were setting up the extra phones in the room so they’d all be able to listen in the hopes of catching a clue. Casey had Honey’s collection of music pulled toward him, idly thumbing through CDs and tapes. Sawyer doubted there’d be any dancing tonight, but he understood Casey’s need for a distraction.

Then Casey nudged Honey. “What’s this?”

Absently, she glanced down, frowning at a plain tape with the word Insurance written on it. “I don’t know.”

Sawyer, hoping to ease her tension, said, “We’ll be a few minutes yet if you want to check it out.”

Casey carried the tape to the stereo and put it in. With the very first words spoken on the tape, a crushing stillness settled over the room. Murmured conversations and quiet preparations ceased, as slowly, everyone stopped what they were doing to listen.

Her gaze glued to the stereo as if transfixed, Honey whispered, “Sawyer,” and he was by her side in an instant, taking her hand, as appalled as she.

The voices were unrecognizable to Sawyer, other than being male. But what they were discussing was painfully obvious: murder. And the fact that Honey knew the voices was easy to see by her horrified expression.

So you’ll do it?

It won’t be a problem. But we’ll need some good-faith money upfront.

I can give you half now, the rest after she marries me and her father is gone. But remember, you have to wait for my instructions. If you kill the old man before the legalities are taken care of, I won’t get a damn thing. Which means you won’t get a thing.

How long are we talking?

A week or two. It’s already in his will, but I want to make sure there won’t be any mix-ups.

Honey turned wounded eyes to Sawyer. “That’s Alden.”

Sawyer pulled her closer, but her face remained blank, white with hurt and disbelief. One by one, his brothers and Casey gathered around her until she was listening to the tape from behind a wall of protective men.

You just make sure the wedding goes off without a hitch. I don’t want to be wasting my time here.

I can handle the bride. Don’t worry about that.

What if she objects to her daddy being snuffed? Will the conditions of the will alter if she divorces you?

No, she’s completely clueless to my plans, so don’t worry about her. She won’t have any idea that I was behind it all. If anything, she’ll want me to comfort her.

There was some masculine chuckling over that, and one of the men mumbled, An added bonus, huh?

Sawyer shot to his feet, his fists clenched, the corners of his vision clouded by rage. “I’ll kill him.”

Morgan grabbed Sawyer’s shoulder. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Or so human,” Gabe added, staring at him in fascination. “It shocks me. You’re usually such a damn saint.”

Honey slowly stood and faced them all. “I…I have to call the police.”

Sawyer squeezed his eyes shut and tried to find his control. Gabe was right—he was acting out of character. He was the pacifist in the family, yet all he wanted to do was get Alden close enough to beat him to a pulp.

Morgan stepped around Sawyer. “Honey, I think you should still make that call.”

She blinked owlishly, as if coming out of a daze. Feeling grim, Sawyer nodded. “We need to find out who the hell he hired.”

Casey stood beside Honey, one arm around her waist. “He made the tape for insurance, just as it says, didn’t he? He couldn’t take the chance that the men he’d hired would go against him. Or maybe he planned to blackmail them later with it.”

Morgan shrugged. “Who the hell knows. The man’s obviously an idiot as well as a bastard.”

“But why were they after me?”

She looked so lost, everyone was quiet for a moment, trying to find a gentle way to explain it to her.

Sawyer cleared his throat, taking on the duty. “Honey, when you left Alden, you fouled up all the plans. Not only did you make it impossible for him to recoup the money through the marriage, but when you packed up, you evidently took his tape by mistake.”

“It…it was with my things. I just sort of shoved everything into a box. I was angry and not really paying attention.”

“Exactly. I don’t know why he would have hidden the tape among your things, but—”

“Oh, God, he didn’t.” She clutched at Sawyer, eyes wide. “When I pulled the stereo out, there was a tape shoved up against the wall behind it. Alden only has CDs so I assumed it wasn’t his, and I just threw it in with the others.”

“But now you have it, and it’s evidence not only against the men after you, but against Alden, too. I imagine he had to tell them about it, knowing you’d find it sooner or later and they’d all go to jail. They have to get you, to get the tape.”

Honey covered her mouth with a hand, then turned for the phone. “I need to call my father to make sure he’s okay. And my sister—”

She looked so panicked, Sawyer gently folded her close, despite her struggles, and held her. “Baby, listen to me. You spoke with Misty yesterday, remember? If anything had been wrong, she’d have told you.”

He felt her relax slightly, the rigidity seeping out of her spine. “Yes, of course you’re right.”

She drew a deep breath, and slowly, right before his eyes, Sawyer watched her pull herself together. She’d been given a terrible blow, but already her shoulders were squared, her expression settling into lines of determination. She stepped away from him. “Let’s get this over with. I want to talk to Alden, to find out what I can, and then we can have the police pick him up. The tape will be enough evidence, don’t you think?”

Morgan gave one hard nod. “Damn right, especially with the break-in at your sister’s and the way you’ve been chased. But with any luck, he’ll incriminate himself further on the phone, and we’ll all be witnesses. Don’t worry, Honey. It’s almost over with. I have friends with the state police who can handle everything.”

Sawyer didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want her to so much as speak to Alden, much less carry on a deceptive conversation, but she was adamant. When she turned her back and walked away from him, it was all he could do not to haul her back up to his side and tote her out of the room.

Honey took a seat by the phone, looking like a queen surrounded by her subjects, and she dialed Alden’s number. It took several rings for him to answer, and when he finally did, Honey closed her eyes. “Hello, Alden.”

There was a heavy pause. “Honey? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

Another pause, then, “Where the hell have you been?”

Honey started, but in the next instant she scowled and tightened her hand on the phone. Sawyer felt a swell of pride for her courage.

“Have you been looking for me?”

“You’re goddamned right, I’ve been looking for you. For God’s sake, Honey, I thought you were dead.”

HONEY STARED at the phone, her entire body trembling with rage. “Why would you think that, Alden? I left because I didn’t want to marry you. Didn’t you read my note?”

Her calm tone seemed to sink in to him. She heard him breathing heavily in an effort to control himself. “Yes, I read it. Where are you, Honey?”

She stared at her hands on the desk, not at the men who watched her so closely. “I’m afraid, Alden. Someone has been chasing after me.”

He muttered low, then said in sugary tones, “Have you spoken with anyone?”

“About what? Our breakup?”

“About…Dammit, never mind that. Where are you living now? I’ll come get you.”

“I’m not living anywhere.” In a calculated lie, she said, “I’ve been so afraid, just running from whoever is after me. I haven’t had a chance to unpack. My clothes were all left at my sister’s, but everything else is still in boxes in my trunk. I shouldn’t have left, Alden. My father doesn’t believe someone is after me, so I can’t go to him.”

“I know,” he answered in soothing tones. “He’s never been overly concerned for you. But I am, sweetheart. You know that. I wanted to marry you long before I learned about his will. If you want, we’ll make him change it. He can leave everything to your sister. I don’t care about the money, I just want you back with me, safe and sound. Tell me where you are so I can come get you.”

“I don’t know….” She tried to put just the right amount of hesitation into her tone.

“Listen to me, damn you!” He made a sound of pain and cursed. “People are after you, and they’re dangerous. I know because they already put me in the hospital once. I spent almost a week there and I can tell you it wasn’t pleasant!”

Honey glanced at Sawyer and saw his dark eyes glint with satisfaction. She held no sympathy for Alden, either, but knowing they’d hurt him scared her spitless. She didn’t want the men anywhere near Sawyer or his family. “Why would anyone hurt you, Alden?”

“I don’t know. I think it might have something to do with a shady deal your father made to buy some inside corporate information.”

Honey raised her brows. That was an excellent lie, because it was one she would have believed. She made sounds of understanding, and Alden continued. “They won’t hesitate to do the same to you, Honey. Let me bring you home where I can protect you while we sort this all out.”

Sawyer covered the mouthpiece. “Tell him to meet you here tomorrow.” He handed her a piece of paper that Morgan had slipped to him. Honey stared down at the address, recognizing that the location was an area on the outskirts of Buckhorn. Numbly, she shook her head, knowing he planned to put himself in danger. “No.”

“No what?” Alden tried cajoling. “Listen to me, Honey. I know you feel betrayed. And I’m sorry. I really do care for you—”

“Let me think, Alden!”

Sawyer walked over to her and gripped her shoulder. He shoved the paper toward her again, then whispered low, “Trust us, Honey. Tell him.”

They were all looking at her, waiting. How in the world could she do this to them? She loved each of them. Then Morgan gave her the most furious face she’d ever seen on a human. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sheriff’s badge, flashing it at her as if to remind her this was his job, as if her hesitation had insulted him mightily.

Jordan shrugged at her, and he, too, spoke in a faint whisper. “Either you have him come here, on our own home ground where Morgan has some legal leverage, or we go after him. It’s your decision.”

She narrowed her eyes at the lot of them. Bullies every one. They had the nasty habit of ganging up on her whenever it suited them.

Alden suddenly asked, “Who’s with you?” and suspicion laced his tone.

Knowing she had no choice and hating Alden for it, she did as the brothers asked. “I’m in a diner in a small town in southern Kentucky.” She glanced at the note again, then said, “You can meet me in Buckhorn at the town landfill at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. It’s…it’s deserted. There won’t be anyone around.”

Sawyer nodded and whispered, “Good girl,” and she elbowed him hard. He rubbed his stomach and scowled at her.

“Can you give me directions, sweetheart?” Alden sounded anxious, and Honey’s stomach knotted with dread even as she did as he asked.

“Just hang on until tomorrow morning, darling. You’ll feel safer as soon as I get you home.”

Though she nearly choked on it, she said, “Thank you,” and after she hung up the phone, she glared at all the men, but concentrated most of her ire on Sawyer. “I hope you’re happy,” she meant to growl, but what emerged was a pathetic wail quickly followed by tears. The brothers looked appalled, and Sawyer, his face softening with sympathy, reached for her. Honey knew if he so much as touched her she’d completely fall apart, so she ran from the room.

She didn’t want him to confront Alden. She didn’t want him in danger. At the moment, she wished she’d never laid eyes on him. At least then she’d know he would stay safe, and because she loved him so damn much, even though he didn’t feel the same, his safety was the only thing that seemed to matter.

She wanted to pretend sleep when Sawyer crept into the dark bedroom hours later, but she was shaking so bad, he knew right away she was awake. He sat on the side of the bed and smoothed his hand over her cheek.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Did you make all your plans?”

His hesitation was like an alarm, making her sit up. “Tell me, Sawyer.”

“You’ll stay here with Casey and Gabe.”

“No. If you insist on doing this…”

“I do. Morgan has alerted the state police, and once Alden shows up, we’ll grab him. There’s no reason to worry.”

“Like you wouldn’t if you were left behind!”

“Honey…”

She hated acting like a desperate ninny, but she was choking on her helplessness, and she didn’t like it. “If Morgan and the police have it in hand, why do you need to go?”

“Because he hurt you.”

His quiet words nearly crumbled her heart. She launched herself at him and knocked him backward on the bed. “Sawyer.”

He couldn’t answer because she was kissing him, his face, his throat, his ear. Sawyer chuckled softly and tried to hold her still, but she reared back and tugged on the fastening to his pants. Surprised, but more than willing, Sawyer lifted his hips and helped her to get his pants off, removing his underwear at the same time. Honey stretched out over him, relishing the feel of his hot, hard flesh. She loved him so much, she wanted to absorb him, his caring, his strength and honor.

Sawyer groaned as she pressed against his pelvis, rocking gently. She felt the immediate rise of his erection along with his accelerated breaths. “Honey, slow down.”

She had no intention of listening to him. Moving quickly to the side, she caressed him from shoulders to hip. His hands fell to the mattress, and his body stiffened. Honey bent and kissed his chest. “I love how you feel, Sawyer, how you smell, and how you…taste.”

He caught his breath, then let it out in a whoosh when her mouth began trailing kisses down his chest to his abdomen. Both of his hands cupped her head, his fingers tangling gently in her long hair.

Her hand wrapped tightly around his erection, holding him secure, giving him fair warning of her intent. She heard a low growl and knew it was Sawyer.

Rubbing her face over his muscled abdomen, she whispered, “You know how you’ve done this to me?”

“This?” The word was a strangled gasp.

“Mmm, this,” she clarified, and lightly ran her tongue down the length of his penis.

“Damn.” His entire body jerked and strained, his hands tightening in her hair.

“And…this.” She gently raked her teeth over him, down and then back up again.

“Honey.” “

And this.” His body lurched as her mouth closed hotly around him. She’d had no idea that pleasuring him would pleasure her, as well, but her heart raced with the incredible scent and taste of him and the muttered roughness of his curses. He slowly guided her head, his entire body drawn taut, his heels digging hard into the mattress.

She had no real idea how to proceed—she’d never done this before—but it seemed he enjoyed everything, so she supposed her inexperience didn’t matter. But before long he was pulling her away despite her protests.

“You’re a witch,” he growled, then tucked her beneath him after hastily donning a condom. He entered her with one solid thrust, and she bit back a loud moan of acute sensation. As he moved over, his rhythm smooth and deep, he watched her face. “You liked doing that, didn’t you?”

The room was dark, but moonlight spilled over the bed through the French doors, and she could see the intent expression on his face, how his eyes seemed to glow.

She licked her lips and felt his thrusts deepen. “Very much.” Smoothing a hand over his back, she asked, “Do you like doing it to me?”

He froze for a heartbeat, struggling for control, then with a vicious curse he wrapped her up tight, holding her as close as he could get her. “Hell, yes, I like it,” he growled. His thrusts were suddenly hard and fast and frantic, and when she cried out, her entire body flooding with sensation, he joined her.

And through it all, his arms were around her, and she heard him whisper again. “I like it too much.”

JORDAN STUCK his head in the door but kept his gaze judiciously on the ceiling. He spoke in a near silent murmur. “I hate to interrupt all this extracurricular activity, but you didn’t hear my knock and we have visitors.”

Sawyer immediately lifted away from Honey, and answered in the same quiet hush. “Who?”

“I don’t know for sure. I was in my room about to bed down when I heard a noise. I looked out and saw someone in the shed. If I don’t miss my guess, good old Alden called in the muscle. His bully boys are probably looking for the tape in her car.”

“Goddammit,” Sawyer hissed, angry at himself, “we should have thought of that.” Sawyer was out of the bed in an instant and pulling on his pants.

Honey threw herself against his back, wrapping her arms tight around him. “No, Sawyer, just stay inside!”

“Shh.” He took a moment to gently pry her hands loose and kiss her forehead. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”

Since she was barely covered by the sheet and evidently didn’t care, it was a good thing Jordan had averted his face. He said without looking at her, “Morgan has called in the troops, sweetie, so don’t get all frantic on me.”

Sawyer had assumed as much, but he saw it didn’t ease Honey at all. He glanced sharply at Jordan. “Casey?”

“I sent him to the basement. Gabe is with him, and they’re waiting on her.”

He nodded. “Come on, Honey. You need to get your robe.”

“Don’t do this, Sawyer.”

Her pleading tone unnerved him, but he hardened himself against it. He’d do what he had to to protect her. “There’s no time for this, babe. Come on, have a little trust, okay?”

She moved reluctantly, but she did scoot off the bed and put her arms into the robe he held for her. Wearing only his slacks, Sawyer followed Jordan out, keeping Honey safely at his back. “How did they know she was here?”

“Maybe Alden had the phone call traced, or maybe someone in town knows and spilled the beans. She’s been here a couple of weeks now, and you’ve had a line of patients every day. And Honey, once you’ve seen her, isn’t exactly a woman to forget.”

Sawyer grunted at that. She was so damn sexy she made his muscles go into spasms. Jordan was right; no one would forget her, and her description would be easy enough to peg.

When they neared the basement steps, Gabe was there waiting. “You owe me for this one, Sawyer. You know how I hate missing all the action.”

“Keep her safe, and you can name your price.”

Gabe grinned at that. “If you get a chance, punch the bastards once for me.”

He handed Honey over to his brother. She hadn’t said another word, and she wouldn’t look at him. Gabe gently put his arm around her. “Come on, sweetie. Casey is looking forward to the company.”

“Gabe?” Sawyer waited until his brother met his gaze. “Don’t come out, no matter what, until I come for you.”

“We’ll be fine, Sawyer. Go, but be careful.”

Sawyer watched Honey disappear down the steps. She was far too passive to suit him at the moment, but he brushed it off. Morgan was already outside and no doubt could use their help. He closed the basement door, heard Gabe turn the lock, and he and Jordan rushed silently out the back door and across the damp grass. They kept low and in the shadows and they found Morgan just where Sawyer knew he would be, peering around the barn, the closest out-building to the shed, keeping the intruders in sight.

“You two sleuths sounded like a herd of elephants.”

Morgan’s sibilant mutter was filled with disgust, but Sawyer didn’t take exception. “Did you see anything?”

“Two men, both big bastards. From the sounds of it, they’re getting into Honey’s car.”

“Looking for the tape.”

“I assume. And when they don’t find it, they’ll head for the house.”

“You see any weapons?”

Morgan grunted, but the sound was drowned out by the myriad night noises, crickets, frogs, rustling tree branches. An eerie fog, visible through the darkness, drifted over the ground. Morgan wiped his forehead, his gaze still trained on the shed. “They’d be total idiots if they weren’t armed.”

“Jordan said you put the call in to the state police?”

“Yeah.” Suddenly he pressed himself back, then glanced at Sawyer. “I don’t think they’re going to make it on time, though.”

Sawyer curled his hands into fists, easily comprehending Morgan’s meaning. He was on his haunches, and he tightened his muscles, ready to move. There was no way in hell he was letting anyone near the house, not with Honey and Casey inside.

Morgan reached past him and thrust his gun at Jordan, a silent order for Jordan to be backup. Jordan accepted the gun with a quietly muttered complaint, then braced himself.

Shadows were visible first, then the dark, indistinct forms of two men creeping quietly across the empty yard. They mumbled to each other, then the one trailing slightly behind growled, “That little bitch has been more trouble than she’s worth. When I get hold of her—”

Without a word, Morgan launched himself at the first man, who caught the movement too late to turn. Sawyer was right behind him. It gave him enormous satisfaction to hear the grunt of pain from the man who’d threatened Honey as he drove him hard to the ground. His fist connected solidly with a jaw, earning a rank curse before the man shoved him aside with his legs and struggled to his feet. Sawyer faced him, taunting, anxious, confident in his abilities.

And then he heard Gabe shout, and Honey was racing across the yard, distracting Sawyer for just a moment. The man swung, but she got in the way, and his fist clipped her, knocking her to the ground.

Sawyer erupted with blind fury. He stood there heaving just long enough to insure Gabe had Honey in hand and that she was all right. He was barely aware of Morgan pounding a man into the dirt, or of Jordan standing silently in the shadows, the gun drawn. He didn’t notice that his son had turned on the floodlights or that the man, knowing he was outnumbered, stood frozen before him, waiting. He’d been dealing with a clamoring swell of emotions all day, pushing him slowly over the edge. And now, seeing Honey hurt, he went into a tailspin. Sawyer felt himself exploding, and with a look of shock, the man raised his fists.

The bastard was large, but not large enough. He was strong, but not strong enough. And he fought dirty, but Sawyer had the advantage of icy rage, and after a few short minutes, Morgan wrapped his arms around Sawyer from behind and pulled him away. “Enough, Sawyer,” he hissed into his ear. “The state guys are here and we don’t need to put on a show.”

He was still shaking with rage, his knuckles bloody, his heart pounding. Slowly, Honey approached him, and Morgan, using caution, released him.

She had a swelling bruise beneath her left eye, but it was the uncertainty in her gaze that nearly felled him. Sawyer opened his arms, and with a small sound she threw herself against him.

He hadn’t wanted responsibility for another wife, but ironically, the more Honey insisted on taking care of herself, the more she agreed with his edicts, the more he wanted her. The fact she didn’t need him, that she was strong and capable and proud, only made her more appealing and made him more determined to coddle her.

Noise surrounded them, questions, chatter. Sawyer heard Morgan giving directions for Alden to be picked up, but none of it mattered to him. He squeezed her tighter and tried not to make a fool of himself by being overly emotional. She’d been hurt so much already. He tipped her back and kissed the bruise on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

Her long hair fell forward to hide her face. “Yes. I’m sorry I got in your way. Gabe told me you’d be likely to skin me for it, after he finished fussing over me.”

“What were you doing out here, sweetheart? I told you to stay safe in the basement.”

“I snuck out when Gabe wasn’t looking.” She peered up at him, her expression earnest. “I couldn’t stay down there, hiding, while you put yourself in danger for me. I couldn’t.” Her uncertainty melted away, replaced by a pugnacious frown. “And you shouldn’t have asked me to!”

Sawyer fought a smile. “I’m sorry.”

She pulled away and paced. The small cat darted out of the bushes to follow her, keeping up with Honey’s agitated stride. It was only then Sawyer realized she was wearing Jordan’s shirt. Her housecoat, or what he could see of it beneath the shirt, looked nearly transparent under the bright floodlights. He glanced at Jordan, who lounged against the barn wall, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Casey stood beside him, looking agog at the men being handcuffed by a bevy of uniformed officers. Morgan was in the hub of it all, a tall figure of authority.

Gabe reentered the yard with an ice pack and came directly to Honey. “Here, sweetie, put this on your cheek.”

Honey ignored him, still pacing, her bare feet now wet and her movements agitated. Sawyer took the pack from Gabe and corralled Honey and started the parade back into the house. They’d all be answering questions soon enough, but for right now, Morgan could handle things.

HOURS LATER, Honey once again found herself seated in the kitchen, the center of attention in the middle of the night. All the men were fussing around her, fretful over a silly bruise that she felt stupid for having. If she hadn’t panicked, if she hadn’t run into the way of a fist, she wouldn’t have been hurt. And after seeing Morgan’s and Sawyer’s knuckles, her one small injury seemed paltry beyond compare.

She sighed. The men each jumped to her aid, taking that small sound as one of pain.

“Will you all stop hovering?” she groused. “You’re making me nervous.”

Gabe grinned, finally seeing the hilarity in the situation. “I kinda like doting on you, sweetie. You may as well get used to it.”

Honey didn’t dare look at Sawyer. She tried for a sunny smile that made her face feel ready to crack. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Thanks to you macho guys, my worries are over. There’s no reason for me to keep imposing, or to hang around and get used to your domineering personalities. The police told me I could leave, that when they need me, I’ll hear from them. And my sister was so anxious when I called her, I think I should be getting home.”

It was as if they’d all turned to statues. Honey managed to eke out one more smile, though it cost her. “Since I don’t have much to pack, I can be out of here in the morning. But in case I don’t catch any of you before you leave for work, I wanted you to know…” Her throat seemed to close up, and she struggled to hold back her tears. Casey stared at her, his jaw ticking, and she wanted to grab him up and claim him as her own. She swallowed and tried again. But this time her voice was so soft, it could barely be heard. “I wanted you all to know how special you are, and how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

Jordan and Morgan glared at Sawyer. Gabe got up to pace. Casey, still unflinching, said, “Don’t go.”

Honey stared down at her folded hands. “I have to, Case. It’s safe now, and my family needs me.”

Morgan made a rude sound. “Your sister, maybe. But your father? I can’t believe you’re so quick to forgive him.”

“I haven’t. But he is my father, and I almost lost him by marrying the wrong man. He was as shocked by it all as I was. He said his lawyers will take care of everything, but we still have a lot to talk about.”

“You could stay just a little longer,” Jordan suggested, and he, too, looked angry.

“I can’t keep hiding here, Jordan. It isn’t right.”

Morgan walked past Sawyer and deliberately shouldered him, nearly knocking him over. Sawyer cursed and turned to face his brother, but Gabe laughed, diffusing the moment. “Down, Sawyer. The fight is over.”

Sawyer stared at him, red-eyed and mean.

Honey didn’t quite know what to think of him. He’d fought so…effectively. Yet the brothers claimed he was a pacifist. After the way he’d enjoyed punching that man, Honey had her doubts.

Gabe was still chuckling. “You know, Sawyer, it isn’t Morgan’s ass you’re wanting to kick, but your own.”

Sawyer glared a moment more, then pulled out a chair and dropped into it. The brothers seemed to find his behavior hilarious, but Honey couldn’t share in their humor. She hurt from the inside out, and trying to keep that pain hidden was wearing on her.

Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. “What if she’s pregnant?”

Sawyer’s narrowed gaze shot to Honey. She sputtered in surprise. “I’m not pregnant!”

“How do you know?”

“Dammit, Morgan, don’t you think a woman knows these things?”

“Sure, after a while, but not this early on.”

There was no way she would explain with four pairs of masculine eyes watching her, just how careful Sawyer had been. Through her teeth, she growled, “Take my word on it.”

Sawyer stood suddenly, nearly upsetting his chair, and he leaned toward Honey, his battered hands spread flat on the tabletop. He looked furious and anxious and determined. “Would you be opposed to getting pregnant?”

Her mouth opened twice before any words would come out. “Now?”

He made an impatient sound. “Eventually.”

Not at all sure what Sawyer was getting at, her answer was tentative, but also honest. “No, I wouldn’t mind. I want to have children.” She stared at him hard. “But only if a man loves me. And only if it’s forever.”

Sawyer straightened, still keeping his gaze glued to hers. “Would you be opposed to sons, because that seems to be the dominate gene among us.”

Honey, too, stood. She bit her lips, feeling her heart start to swell. A laugh bubbled up inside her, and she barely repressed it. “I’m getting used to men and their vagaries.”

“Your father would have to change his goddamned will, because I won’t take a penny from him, now or ever.”

“Absolutely. I already told him that.”

“Do you love me?”

There was a collective holding of breath, and she smiled. For such big, strong, confident men, they were certainly uneasy about her answer. “Yes. But…but I don’t want your pushy brothers to force you into anything.”

That response brought about a round of hilarity, with the brothers shouting, “Ha,” and, “Yeah, right,” and, “As if we ever could!”

Sawyer rounded the table with a purposeful stride and the brothers got out of his way, still laughing. Casey whooped. Sawyer stopped in front of Honey and whispered, “Damn, I love you,” which made her laugh and cry, then he scooped her up in his arms and turned so she faced everyone, and announced formally, “If you’ll all excuse us, it seems Honey and I have some wedding plans to make.”

Morgan clapped him on the shoulder as he walked past, and then winked at Honey. Jordan gave her the thumbs-up.

Casey yelled, “Hey, Dad, just so you don’t change your mind, I’m calling Grandma to tell her!”

Sawyer paused. “Now? It’s not even dawn yet.”

Gabe smirked. “And you know damn good and well she’d skin us all if we waited even one minute more.”

Sawyer laughed. “Hell, yes. Go ahead and call her. But you can answer her hundred and one questions, because I don’t want to be interrupted.” He smiled down at Honey and squeezed her tight. “I plan to be busy for a long, long while.”

Morgan

by Lori Foster

Contents

Prologue

IT WAS one of those sweltering hot weekend mornings when a man had nothing better to do than sit outside in his jeans, feel himself sweat and wait for a breeze that wouldn’t come. The sky was the prettiest blue he’d ever seen, not a single cloud in sight. He loved days like this, and looked forward to viewing them from his own house once he finished it. If all went well, it would be ready for him to move in by the end of summer.

Morgan Hudson tilted his chair back and closed his eyes. Everyone was gone for the day, and the house seemed strangely quiet, not peaceful so much as empty. He hoped he didn’t feel that way when he got moved in. Living with three brothers and a teenage nephew got a man used to chaos, especially with his brothers.

Sawyer, the oldest, was the only doctor for miles around, and he had patients coming and going through the back office attached to the house all day long—sometimes even through the night. It was one reason the brothers had all hung around together for so long. Sawyer was an excellent father, but when Casey was little, they’d all pitched in to cover dad duty so the rigors of med school, and later being the town doc, didn’t overwhelm him. It had been a pleasure.

Jordan, his younger brother, was a vet, and that meant the house and yard were always filled with stray animals. Morgan didn’t mind. More often than not he got attached to the odd assortment of mangy, abandoned or just plain homely critters. ‘Course, he didn’t tell Jordan that.

Gabe, the youngest brother, was a rascal, with no intention of settling down anytime soon. And why should he when half the female populace of Buckhorn County, Kentucky would be bereft if he ever did? The women had spoiled Gabe something awful, and he indulged them all. Gabe just plain loved women, young and old, sweet or sassy. And they loved him back.

Casey, Sawyer’s son, was constant chatter. He was at that awkward age of sixteen, half man, half kid, when females fascinated him, but then, so did driving and stretching his independence. Casey, as well as the brothers, was thrilled when Sawyer decided to marry again, adding a female into the masculine mix. The adjustment to Honey Malone had gone surprisingly smooth.

Morgan smiled. Damn, but he liked Honey. Mostly because the woman had snared his brother with a single look. Sawyer had fought it, Morgan’d give him that, but it hadn’t done him a damn bit of good. He’d gone head over arse in love with Honey almost from the first day. And once Casey had decided he loved her, well, that had put a bow on the package. Sawyer would do anything for that boy, so it was a good thing Casey had taken to Honey the way he had.

Morgan wanted to have a son just like Casey some day—if he ever found a woman he wanted to marry. At thirty-four, he figured he’d waited plenty long enough. He almost had the house done, and he sure as hell was settled enough now, despite what his brothers thought. He had a respectable job and plenty of money put away. It was time for him to get on with his life, his hell-raising days long over.

A bird landed on the porch, right next to where Morgan’s bare foot was braced on the railing. He cocked an eye open, whistled softly to the bird, then watched it take flight again. Obviously the bird hadn’t known he was human—or else it’d thought he was dead. With a grin, Morgan closed his eyes again. He was like that, so still sometimes it set people on edge. To Morgan, it was all about control, taking charge of his life and seeing that things fell into place. He had the future mapped out, and he had not a single doubt that things would be just as he wanted them. He controlled himself, he controlled his future.

Whenever possible, he controlled those around him.

THE MAN was sound asleep when Misty pulled up in front of the huge, impressive log house. It seemed to go on and on forever, sprawling over incredibly beautiful land. On the way in she’d seen a lake surrounded by colorful wild-flowers, an enormous barn and several smaller outbuildings. In the distance, sitting atop a slight rise, was another house, but apart from that, the home was isolated.

Honey had told her a little about the property, but mostly she’d talked of her marriage. Sawyer, her husband-to-be, had rushed things through, and Honey was putting a wedding together in just under three weeks. It had taken Misty a few days to gather her things and join her sister so she could offer some last-minute help. The timing couldn’t have been better, and Misty had given a silent prayer of gratitude that she actually had a place to stay for a short time. Otherwise, she’d have been homeless.

Honey had warned her that the testosterone level would be enough to strangle a frail woman, but still, Misty hadn’t been prepared for the sight of the hard, dark man sitting on the porch. He wore tight faded jeans, the waistband undone—and nothing else. She gulped, seeing a flat, six-pack, slightly hairy abdomen.

Besides being massively built and layered in solid muscle, he was breathtakingly gorgeous. Not that it mattered to Misty, who was twice burned. She’d written men off, and they’d stay written off. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t look. And appreciate what she saw.

She inched closer, wondering exactly how to wake him or even if she should. She’d arrived a day early, so Honey might not be expecting her. But surely there was someone else in the house, and maybe if she knocked quietly…

She was right beside him, practically tiptoeing in her sandals, trying to decide what to do, when suddenly he opened his eyes.

Oh, Lord.

She felt snared, like a helpless doe in the headlights of a semi. She stared, swallowed and stared some more. The man seemed as surprised as she was, and then he suddenly moved, jerking upright. He lost his balance, and his chair went crashing backward with jarring impact.

The string of curses that emerged should have singed her ears, but instead it amused her. She smiled widely and leaned down to where he lay sprawled on the polished boards of the porch. “You all right?”

Still flat on his back, he ran one hand through his dark, wavy hair, eyes closed, and Misty had the distinct feeling he was counting to ten. When he turned his head to face her, she prepared herself for the impact of his gaze again.

It didn’t help. The man had the most sinfully beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen.

“Is there some reason why you’re sneaking up on my porch?”

The chuckle came without warning. She was nervous, damn it, and she couldn’t be. She didn’t want Honey to know of her troubles, not when Honey had just found so much well-deserved happiness. Misty had already decided to act as if nothing had happened, to resolve her difficulties—what an understatement—on her own. Having the invitation to stay with Honey for a little while was a reprieve from heaven, and hopefully would give her a chance to get her bearings and make some very necessary plans.

“Now, I didn’t sneak,” she lied easily. “You were just snoring so loud you didn’t hear me.”

His blue gaze darkened to purest midnight. “I don’t snore.”

“No?”

“Any number of women can tell you so.”

Uh-oh. She was on dangerous ground. This obviously wasn’t the kind of man you could easily flirt with. He took things too seriously. And she sensed he wasn’t exactly going to behave like a gentleman. Misty brushed her bangs out of her eyes and gave him a cocky grin. “I’ll take your word for it. Must have been distant thunder I heard.” She looked pointedly at the clear blue sky, and he scowled, quickly prompting her to add, “Did you break anything?”

Without her mind’s permission, her gaze drifted over his big, hard, mostly bare body, and her pulse accelerated.

The man pushed himself into a sitting position off to the side of the chair. He let his arms dangle over his bent knees and narrowed his eyes in what she took to be a challenge. A very small, very sensual smile tilted his mouth. “You want to check me over to see?”

The idea of her hands coming into contact with all that exposed male skin made her fingertips itch. Distance became a priority, especially with the husky way he’d asked it. Misty came swiftly to her feet, but that just redirected his gaze to her legs, so close he could kiss her knee by merely leaning forward.

He looked as if he were considering it.

She quickly stepped back. Perspiration dampened her skin and caused her T-shirt to stick to her breasts. It had to be over ninety degrees, and the humidity was so thick you could choke on a deep breath.

Trying to lighten the suddenly charged mood, she asked, “How in the world can you sleep in this heat?”

He pushed himself to his feet and righted the chair. He was a good head taller than her, with sleek, tanned shoulders twice as wide as hers. She felt equal parts fascination and intimidation. She didn’t like it. She would never let another man affect her in either way. When he looked down at her, his expression somewhat brooding, she gave her patented careless grin and winked. “Out all night carousing and now you’re too exhausted to stay awake?”

He stepped forward, and she quickly stepped back—then had to keep stepping back until her body came into contact with the wood railing. He towered over her, not smiling, taking her in from head to toe. If Misty hadn’t known for a fact that she had the right house, and if Honey hadn’t assured her that all the men were beyond honorable, she’d have been just a tad more worried than she was. “Uh, is anyone else here?”

“No.”

“No?” Now she was getting worried. “What about your brothers? And wasn’t your mother supposed to be visiting, too?”

He frowned, but didn’t back up a single pace. He was so close she could smell the spicy scent of his heated skin.

She held her breath.

“My mother had a slight emergency and she won’t be able to make it after all. My brothers and my nephew are all in town together, enjoying a Saturday off.”

They were alone! She could barely form a coherent sentence with him deliberately crowding her so. She had a suspicion that was why he did it. She swallowed and asked, “What about Honey?”

His gaze sharpened and his dark brows pulled down in a ferocious frown. “She’s with them.” He looked her over again, very slowly this time. To her, it seemed as if he was savoring the experience. Then he asked, “Just who the hell are you, lady?”

His expression was bland, but there was something in his tone, a mixture of heat and expectation. Misty bit her lip, then stuck out her hand, warding him off and offering a belated introduction. “Misty Malone.” Her voice broke, and she had to clear her throat. “I’m Honey’s sister.”

His expression froze, then abruptly hardened as he stepped away without taking her hand. “Ah, hell.” He glared an accusation, then added, “That wasn’t at all what I wanted to hear.”

JUST LOOKING AT HER MADE HIM SWEAT.

And in the damned tux for his brother’s reception, sweating was more than a little uncomfortable. Even the air-conditioning didn’t help. He should look away, but he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze from her. The sensuous way she moved, her deep black hair swaying to the music, looking almost liquid it was so silky, her husky laugh, all worked to make him crazy and put a stranglehold on his attention. Morgan loosened the tie around his throat and undid the top two buttons of his white shirt. But that didn’t help the restriction of his pants, and he just knew if he started loosening them up, his new sister-in-law would have a fit. And he’d sooner kick his own ass than upset Honey.

“If you stare any harder, you’re liable to set her on fire.”

Morgan jerked, then turned to glare at Sawyer. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your bride?”

“Jordan’s dancing with her.”

Great. Just great. After meeting Misty that first day on the front porch, Morgan had done his best to avoid her. Hell, he’d almost seduced his new sister-in-law’s sister. And worse, she’d egged him on. What kind of woman did a thing like that?

He felt infuriated every time he thought about it. All his lauded control seemed to be paper-thin these days, especially with the way Jordan and Gabe adored the woman. They doted on Misty, every bit as fascinated as Morgan had been by her sensual looks and careless smile, only they seemed genuinely interested in her, and that really put a crimp in his mood.

Morgan didn’t particularly like her. She was so brazen, so sassy and unrestrained, it was almost impossible not to be drawn to her on a sexual level. But where her sister was discreet and gentle, Misty was bold and outgoing. It was no wonder he hadn’t figured out who she was on the spot; he’d expected the sister to be more like Honey, not the exact opposite.

With her come-on lines and lack of inhibitions, Misty could put any male on edge, and that wasn’t at all the type of woman he was determined to be interested in these days. No, he wanted a woman like Honey, one he could settle down with, one that was as interested in becoming domestic as he was. Not that he wouldn’t indulge in a little dalliance here and there before he found the wife, just not with Honey’s sister. No way. That would be crossing the familial line.

Trying to sound disinterested rather than disgruntled, Morgan said, “I’m surprised Jordan could pull himself away from Misty. He and Gabe have been crowding her all night.” Then he shook his head. “Hell, they’ve both been dogging her heels like lovesick puppies all week.”

“And that bothers you, does it?”

Morgan snorted. “Hell, no. Except that she’s a far cry from Honey and I don’t want to see them get stuck in an awkward situation.”

That made Sawyer laugh out loud. “Jordan and Gabe? I hate to break it to you, Morgan, but they’re grown men and they’ve been handling their fair share of female companionship for some time now. Hell, Gabe started earlier than you did.”

“He lied.”

Sawyer laughed again. “Nope, I caught him at it, out in the barn that first time, so I know exactly how old he was.”

Diverted for the moment, Morgan turned to Sawyer with a grin. “You’re kidding?”

“Don’t I wish. I think that’s what started him on the path of debauchery.”

Morgan chuckled at that. The youngest brother was a regular Lothario, to the delight of the female population of Buckhorn. “Details?”

Shrugging, Sawyer said, “The girl was four years older than him, and since then, it’s like he’s irresistible to women.”

“Honey resisted him.”

Sawyer’s grin was very smug. “Yeah. I was glad to see it. Good for his ego.”

“’Course, he wasn’t really giving it his all, seeing as you’d already staked a claim.” Before Sawyer could object to that, Morgan turned to Misty. “Does it amaze you how two sisters can be so damned different? I mean, Honey is just so kindhearted and innocent.”

Sawyer had just taken a sip of his champagne, and he choked, but when Morgan gave him a suspicious look, he just raised his brows, as if encouraging Morgan to continue.

“Misty is…”

“What?” Sawyer seemed intent on digging in. “Sexy?”

“Hell, yeah, she’s sexy. But then so is Honey.”

Sawyer blinked at that, then frowned ferociously. “I’m not at all sure I like—”

“Oh, give it a rest, Sawyer. I’m not blind. And I just appreciate the fact she’s so sexy—for you.”

After downing the rest of his champagne in one gulp, Sawyer demanded, “Your point?”

Sawyer was being damn entertaining again, but Morgan couldn’t take advantage of it because he couldn’t pull his gaze away from Misty. Gabe had just swept her up into a new dance. She complained for just a moment about her feet, and Gabe, the rascal, merely went down on one knee and pulled her shoes off, tossing them aside. Misty seemed charmed, and they began a rather heated, intimate dance. The floor cleared to give them room, and Misty behaved totally uninhibited. Gabe was no better, showing off, making the women cheer, but that was his damned brother and he wasn’t interested in looking at Gabe.

Misty was something altogether different.

Morgan had to grind his teeth together. “Will you just look at her?”

“I’d rather look at you looking at her. More amusing that way.”

“It’s like, Honey is so sweet and gentle, and Misty’s all spice and fire. What is it with her, anyway? Does she think she has to seduce every guy around her?”

“She’s not seducing, she’s dancing.”

Morgan snorted. “The way she dances, it’s the same damn thing.”

Sawyer snickered. “For you, at least.”

Just then, Jordan interrupted Gabe and stole Misty away. She laughed, as willing to partner him as Gabe, and Morgan nearly ground his teeth into powder. “It’s not right, I’m telling you. She’s playing with them both.”

Deliberately adding oil to the fire, Sawyer said, “It seems to be a game they’re enjoying.” Then he clapped Morgan on the shoulder. “Relax, will you? She’s just dancing, nothing more. Oops. Here comes Honey, so I better get this out quick. She’s concerned because you’re avoiding Misty. I was supposed to tell you to go dance with her.”

“Ha.” Morgan was positively appalled by that idea, but not for the reasons his brother would likely assume. “I’m not getting near her.” He was afraid if he did, he’d explode. He couldn’t recall ever wanting a woman quite the way he wanted this one.

She was staying with them at the house, so he saw her at breakfast, looking all sleepy but still full of smiles for his brothers. He saw her at bedtime, wishing everyone—but him—a good night’s sleep. He even saw her in the afternoon, though he did his best to avoid it. She would be painting her toenails right out on the back patio, or puttering around the kitchen, giving the illusion of being domestic when he’d be willing to bet she didn’t have a domestic bone in her entire lush little body.

It didn’t matter what she did, he liked it—a little too much. And she knew it, which was why she avoided him as much as he did her. They were far too sexually aware of each other for comfort.

But it was all physical, and a fast, easy, physical relationship with his sister-in-law’s sister would never do. Sawyer, damn him, had made the woman a relative with his marriage, and that put her off-limits for every single thing Morgan would like to do with her. And the things he’d like to do…

He almost groaned out loud. The vivid images of him and Misty together, naked, overheated, carnal, would amuse his brothers and shock the hell out of Honey. She was overprotective of Misty—why, he couldn’t fathom. He had a feeling his sexual thoughts wouldn’t shock Misty at all. He had the taunting suspicion she’d be with him every step of the way.

“Damn.” Morgan felt the start of an erection and had to fight to control himself. Not easy to do when Misty was laughing and looking flushed from all that dancing. Jordan whirled her in a wide circle, and Morgan wanted to flatten him.

“Damn is right. You’re in for it now.”

Morgan turned to see what Sawyer was blathering on about and was met with Honey instead. She looked incredibly beautiful in her white wedding gown, her long blond hair loose and her face glowing. Morgan smiled at her. “Have I kissed the bride yet?”

“About a dozen times, I think.” She grinned at him, and twin dimples decorated her cheeks.

“Morgan…” Sawyer’s beleaguered tone didn’t bother Morgan one whit. Annoying each other was the brothers’ favorite pastime. And Sawyer, love-struck from day one though he fought it pretty damn hard, had made himself a prime target.

Honey laughed and patted her husband’s chest. “Oh, Sawyer, relax. Your brother is just a big pushover.”

Sawyer choked again.

Morgan, amused by her insistent misconceptions of him, grinned. Not another soul in Buckhorn, male or female, thought of him as a pushover—pretty much the opposite, in fact.

His grin fell flat with her next words.

“I want you to dance with Misty.”

“Ah…”

“Morgan, it almost seems like you’ve been avoiding her. She told me just this morning at breakfast that you didn’t like her.”

They’d talked about him? Morgan wanted to ask exactly what had been said, but he didn’t want to look too interested. “I don’t dislike her.”

“Of course you don’t! But she thinks you do because you’ve spent so much time at work since she’s been here, and you’ve barely said two words to her.”

Morgan tugged on his ear, beginning to feel uncomfortable. He wanted to sock Sawyer, who stood behind his bride, smirking. “It’s been really busy this week and being that I’m sheriff I can’t just…”

“But you’re not busy now. And look, she just finished a dance. It’s the perfect time for the two of you to talk some more and get better acquainted.”

Sawyer, ready to get back a little of his own, said, “Yeah, the timing is perfect. And with your, er, charm, you should be able to put her right at ease.” Then he grinned, glancing at his wife. “You’d do that for Honey, wouldn’t you, Morgan?”

Honey, playing along, gave him her most endearing smile.

He tried, but not a single rebuttal came to mind. “Well, hell.” Morgan stomped away, resigned to his fate and unfortunately, in some ways, pleased to be forced into it. He saw Misty look up from across the room, as if she’d somehow sensed his approach. She did that a lot, seeming to know the second he entered a room. And then she’d get quiet and withdrawn—but only with him.

Her dark blue eyes, so bright and clear they still had the effect of making his heart skip a beat, widened. He saw her soft lips part, saw her cheeks darken with color. She turned, looking, he knew, for an avenue of escape. But she’d already been surrounded by every eligible bachelor in Buckhorn, and they were in no hurry to let her leave.

Morgan stopped right behind her. She didn’t turn to face him, but she knew he was there; her shoulders stiffened the tiniest bit and her normally husky voice became a little bit shrill as she asked the men who would dance with her next.

Morgan looked at every man there, and he fashioned a grin. A very hard, unmistakable expression. Several of the men, eyeing him closely, began to back up, quickly making their excuses.

Morgan took advantage of their retreat. “I believe that’d be me, Malone.”

She hated it when he called her by her last name. He’d found that out the first day they met. He’d been calling her by Malone ever since, because it helped to maintain the small distance necessary for his sanity.

“I don’t think so, Hudson.” She reached for Gabe’s hand. He was one of the few men who wasn’t intimidated by Morgan’s darkest stare. In fact, Gabe looked highly entertained. He was a gentleman and would have assisted her, if Morgan hadn’t beat him to it, reaching around her and snatching her slim fingers in his own before she could get a solid hold on Gabe. The reach brought his chest up flush against her slender back. He could smell her, warm woman and sweet sexiness. Her scent was like an irresistible tonic to him, and like any basic male animal, he reacted strongly to it. Her hair, so silky and luxurious, brushed his chin, and it was like having fire lick down his spine. He caught his breath.

They both froze.

Gabe chuckled. “You two going to stand there doing the statue imitation all night, or do you intend to dance? I have to tell you, Honey is frowning something fierce over the show you’re giving the guests, and I think she’s about to start this way.”

Morgan drew in a deep breath, searching for control. “Get lost, Gabe.”

“No way. I don’t get to see you this rattled too often.”

“I’m not rattled.” He stepped back a safe distance but retained his hold on Misty. Trying to sound reasonable, rather than rattled, he said, “Your sister wants us to dance.”

Misty’s pink tongue darted out to lick nervously at her lips, and Morgan wanted to groan. He glanced at Gabe and saw that his brother was every bit as alert and fascinated as he was. Damn. He started backing out to the middle of the dance floor, tugging Misty along with him. Everyone could see she was a reluctant participant, and after the way she’d accepted every other partner, Morgan was peeved. “Come on, Malone. I won’t bite you.”

“Can I have that in writing?” Gently, she tried to disengage her hand. Morgan stared at her, refusing to let go and refusing to respond to her sarcasm.

She sighed. “Look, Morgan, this isn’t a good idea.”

Perversely, he asked, “Why not?”

“You don’t like me! That was easy enough to figure out from the moment we met.”

She was so…lovely, he couldn’t help but study her face, the narrow nose, the high cheekbones, her small rounded chin. If he looked any lower, he’d never survive the dance, so he brought his gaze to hers. “I liked you well enough…at first.”

“All right. Then from the moment I introduced myself. I have no idea what you’ve got against me, and to tell you the truth, I really don’t care.”

“You don’t, huh?” It was amazing how she went straight to the heart of the matter. Most women wouldn’t have been so bold.

He wondered if she’d be that bold in bed.

“No, I don’t,” she said. “Truth is, I’m not at all crazy about you, either.”

The grin took him by surprise. Strangely, Morgan realized he was enjoying himself. Beyond being turned on, he felt challenged, and that didn’t often happen with women anymore. “Why not?”

Before she could reply, the music changed, turned sultry. Misty gave such a heartfelt groan of despair, he chuckled. “Oh, no. I’m outta here.” Again she tried to pull loose, but Morgan swept her closer and wrapped one arm around her waist.

Near her ear, he whispered, “Quit fighting me, Malone. It’s only one dance.” One dance that felt closer to foreplay. Just holding her was making him nuts, and this close, he could see a few damp, glossy black curls clinging to her forehead and temple. Her upper chest, visible over the scooped neckline of her maid-of-honor gown, was dewy with perspiration. She was warmed up and flushed all over. The vigorous dancing, he thought, leaning subtly forward to breathe in her heated scent. The thought of any other man in the room, especially his damn younger brothers, being this close to her, being affected the same way, made him want to growl.

Misty frowned at him. “What’s the matter with you, anyway? You look like a thundercloud.”

She pulled back, putting a few more inches between their bodies, but Morgan could see the added color in her cheeks and knew she was feeling the effects of the closeness, same as he was.

When he didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her, she sighed. “Don’t pretend my honesty bothered you, Morgan. I won’t believe it.”

Going for the direct attack, he surmised, and smiled. “You haven’t offended me.” Then he made his own direct attack. “You wanna know what I don’t like about you, Malone?”

“No.”

Her naturally husky voice dropped another octave in her irritation. Where his hand rested on her back, he could feel the satin of the dress, warmed by her body, and the supple movement of her muscles. She was slim, but still stacked like a Barbie doll, with lush breasts and a narrow waist. Her legs seemed to go on forever, long and sleek and sexy. Her bottom, though small, was perfectly rounded and just bouncy enough to make him catch his breath whenever she walked away. He’d spent far too many hours obsessing over her bottom.

And those breasts. He could spend at least an hour enjoying her just from the waist up. Unable to stop himself, Morgan looked down at the pale, firm flesh and imagined the formal dress around her waist, her breasts naked for him to see, to touch and taste, to enjoy. He groaned. It was almost too easy to imagine his mouth on her, considering how much cleavage was showing, more so than any of the other women in the wedding party, though they were all wearing similar gowns in different colors. With the shape of the neckline there was no way she could be wearing a bra, or at least, not much of one.

Almost burning up, he growled, “You’re Honey’s sister.”

She blinked, wary surprise evident in her expression. “So?”

“That puts you off-limits. And I don’t like it.”

Her eyes widened. “Good grief! You make it sound like if you decided to…to—”

“Yeah, all that you’re imagining and more.”

Her breath caught, and she choked on her anger. “Like I’d be agreeable! Well, let me put your mind at ease here, Morgan. The answer would be no!”

Annoyed all over again, he said, “I’m not buying it, Malone. You flirt all the damn time. Not just when you talk, but when you move, when you eat.” He looked at her breasts again, which were trembling with her ire. “Hell, even when you breathe.”

His words made her sputter before she managed to spit out, “That’s absurd!”

“Do you realize every guy here has been ogling your breasts?”

Her mouth dropped open, then abruptly snapped closed. “You’re disgusting.”

“I’m not the one showing so much skin.”

Through her teeth, she ground out, “Every woman in the bridal party is showing the same amount of skin, you idiot. Why don’t you go lecture one of them?”

Easily, knowing it was true, he said, “None of them looks like you.” Then he pulled her closer despite her slight resistance. “And I don’t want any of them.”

She looked flabbergasted. “Why, you…you arrogant bas—”

“Shh. Keep your voice down. I don’t want your sister’s reception ruined by a scene.” She glared at him and her eyes looked hot enough to roast him, her cheeks rosy with color. He wanted to kiss her, but had at least enough sense to hold back from that.

Actually, Morgan wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she’d socked him one, right there in the middle of the hall. And he was honest enough to admit he’d deserve it. He wasn’t sure why he goaded her, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

She huffed, then jerked against his arms. Very low, with clear warning, she said, “If you don’t want me to cause a scene, then kindly get your paws off me and leave me alone.”

With relish, he said, “Can’t. Honey is determined to see us get acquainted.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…I’ll talk to her.”

“Why bother?” He stared into her incredible eyes and felt a twisting in his guts as he muttered, “You won’t be here much longer, and then it won’t matter.”

She quickly looked down and bit her lip.

Above the lust, suspicion blossomed. Morgan whispered, “Misty?”

Her gaze jerked to his face, and he realized he’d called her by her first name. Misty suited her, all dark and mysterious, except for those direct, intense blue eyes. “You are leaving soon, right?”

She swallowed, looking away once again. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

Frowning, Morgan half danced, half steered them toward the patio doors. Misty didn’t seem to realize his intent, she merely clutched at him to keep from losing her footing as he danced her first one way, then another, moving easily around the other couples.

When he opened the patio door and stepped outside, Misty started to hold back. Then he saw her square her shoulders and follow him. Evidently she’d decided they needed a showdown.

He thought she was exactly right.

He closed the door behind her, then said, “Come on.”

The night was warm, heavy with humidity. Moonlight fell over her like a pale blush and formed a halo around her midnight hair. She tilted her head, ignoring his outstretched hand. “Where are we going?”

“Someplace more private. I know my brothers, and one or all of them will be out here in under two minutes to see what I’m doing.”

“You won’t be doing anything,” she said.

He answered her with a shrug, then merely waited.

After a long moment, she sniffed, but took his hand and stepped cautiously forward. He realized then she was still barefoot. Irritation filled her tone when she said, “Obviously your brothers don’t trust you any more than I do.”

Morgan smiled in the darkness and stepped off the patio to head toward one of the gazebos decorating the back lawn of the town hall. “Oh, they trust me, all right. They’re just nosy as hell and can’t ever pass up an opportunity to needle me.”

Misty paused outside the ornate gazebo, staring at it and breathing deeply of the scent of flowers, planted in profusion around the white wood and trellis structure. The entire county of Buckhorn was big on flowers. “I love gazebos. I think they’re so quaint.”

Morgan opened the door and cautiously entered the dim interior. “Yeah, I guess Gabe feels the same because he built one—bigger and sturdier than this—down by the lake at home.”

“I saw it. Gabe really built that?”

“Yeah. He’s a handyman of sorts, among other things.” The door banged shut behind them, sealing them inside where the air suddenly crackled with awareness. Morgan refused to believe he was the only one who felt it.

Just enough moonlight filtered in to show the way to the white bench seats lining the inside. He stared hard, seeing the dull glimmer of Misty’s eyes, the sheen of her white teeth. “Would you like to sit down?”

“What I’d like is to find out what you want so I can get back to my sister’s celebration.”

What he wanted? Now that was a loaded question. From the second she’d taken his hand, he’d had a throbbing erection. Morgan seated himself, stretching out his long legs on either side of her, caging her in. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, and her pale skin and the light color of her dress made her visible. She didn’t so much as move a muscle. He crossed his arms and considered her. “You’re different from Honey.”

“Night and day,” she admitted without hesitation, then explained, “we’re also very close. So what’s your point?”

“I wouldn’t want to see her hurt.”

Misty stiffened again, but the rigid posture just caused her breasts to be more noticeable. “Anyone who hurt her would have to answer to me.”

“Yet you think nothing of coming in here and flirting with my brothers, coming on to them—”

She suddenly inclined closer, and her voice was a near hiss. “I haven’t come on to anyone! I danced, but then so did everyone else at the reception. It’s what’s expected at a—”

Morgan leaned forward and caught her shoulders in his hands, keeping her bent close. Her skin was silky and warm, and he flexed his fingers almost involuntarily. “You also parade around the house all day without a bra, and barefoot.”

Her eyes narrowed, and he could feel her tremble. “It’s ninety degrees outside, Morgan! Most every woman I’ve seen since I arrived has been wearing a sundress or tank top without a bra.” She poked him in the chest, hard. “Maybe you should try wearing one to see how horribly uncomfortable they can be in this weather before you start judging me.”

Morgan thought that was the most ludicrous thing he’d ever heard. He opened his mouth, but she quickly cut him off.

“And as for my bare feet, what of it? Don’t tell me you have a foot fetish?”

He hadn’t, not until he’d met her. He’d never even noticed a woman’s feet before. But Misty had small, narrow feet, and she painted her toenails a bright cherry red. They looked sexy as hell, and every time he saw her pretty little feet, he imagined them digging into the small of his back while he rode her hard, making her scream with intense pleasure.

He also knew in his gut he wasn’t the only male noticing. “You’re entirely too comfortable around my brothers.”

“Ha! I don’t think it’s your brothers you’re worried about at all.”

Because that was so close to the truth, even if he didn’t want to admit it, Morgan slowly stood. Misty tried to back up, but he had hold of her shoulders and she didn’t get far away from him. “You don’t think so?”

She hesitated, going cautious on him now that he was so close and towering over her. But then she lifted her chin with her usual bravado. “No. I think it’s…you.”

He nodded, and his pulse thrummed in his veins. “You’re right. It is me. But it’s also you.”

“No, I—”

He stepped so close her back came up against the smooth painted wall.

All the anger, all the frustration, abruptly shifted to pure sexual tension. Morgan couldn’t resist one second longer. With his fingertips, he touched her cheek, then her lips, gently, barely brushing, savoring her softness and the way she trembled in response. Touching her felt so right and made him feel downright explosive. She went utterly still, not moving, not even breathing.

In a raw whisper, he said, “There is absolutely—” he leaned closer “—no possible way—” her eyes drifted shut and she panted for breath “—I’m feeling all this on my own.”

“This?” The word was a mere whisper, sighed against his mouth.

“Lord, you make me hard, Misty.” And then he kissed her.

She held herself stiff for all of about two seconds before her mouth opened and her hands fisted on the lapels of his formal jacket. She moaned, a low, hungry, needy sound.

Morgan, who’d been successfully avoiding her for an entire week, was a goner.

INSANITY, Misty thought, feeling the hot delicious stroke of Morgan’s tongue, the slide of his large rough hands down her spine. He had her pulled so close, their bodies were practically fused together. She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t known this even existed. Lord, the man knew how to kiss, knew how to move his hands and his legs and his…hips. Everything he did, every place he touched her, made her too hot, too hungry. Made her want more. And so far he hadn’t even let his hands wander that far.

But no sooner did that thought filter into her fogged brain than one of those large hands came up over her rib cage to close on her breast.

Her nipples immediately drew tight, and she pulled her mouth away to gasp at the incredible sensations his touch caused.

He groaned harshly, and a rough tremble traveled through his big body.

Stunned, somewhat disoriented by the unbelievable intensity, Misty whispered, “No…”

At that single word, not even said with much conviction, he froze. His hand opened slowly, as if it took great effort to get his fingers to obey. With his face pressed to the place where her shoulder and neck met, he struggled for air, and every muscle—pressed so closely to her—stiffened.

Then he stepped away.

The air positively throbbed between them, but still, he’d stopped the second she’d asked him to. The significance of that didn’t escape her; he was a remarkable man, very much in control of himself. Misty did her best to catch her breath, to stop staring at him in the darkness. She should leave, right now, but she couldn’t seem to get her feet to move. Every nerve ending in her body was still alive in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

“I won’t apologize.”

He sounded breathless, frustrated, on the verge of anger, and she swallowed hard, trying to calm her galloping heart. “I…I didn’t ask you to.”

Still without moving, he added, “This is going to be a problem.”

Again, she asked, “This?”

Several beats of silence passed, then suddenly he moved away from her and he actually laughed. “Come off it, Malone. You felt it as much as I did.” He turned back, looking for verification.

It she assumed was the incredible sexual pull. “If you mean…”

Through his teeth, he said, “I mean I touched you and you got so hot I feel singed. I kissed you and you sucked on my tongue and rubbed up against me and it was like throwing a match on gasoline. There’s enough goddamned heat in this room to start a bonfire.”

Misty sucked in her breath, shocked at the words, at the harsh vehemence of his tone, but unable to deny them. Part of her new determination in dealing with men was to be brutally honest—with herself and them. Sugarcoating things, faking things, had caused at least half of her present problems. Being too timid, too naive, had caused the other half. In order to get on with her life, she had to start facing things head-on.

A rough warning growl rumbled from deep in his throat. “Malone—”

“You’re right,” she hurried to assure him, unwilling to let him shock her with more of his brutal honesty. “And I’m sorry. You took me by surprise.”

“Bull.” He propped his hands on his hips and glared at her. “I’ve known from the day I met you how it’d be. Why the hell do you think I avoid you?”

Oh. That certainly explained a few things, she supposed. “I see. Well, I must not be as clever as you, because I thought you were a totally obnoxious, thoroughly unlikable jerk and I was thankful that you ignored me. I had no idea this—” she waved a hand, trying to come up with a word suitable to the loss of control and depth of sensation he’d sparked “—chemistry was between us. I wasn’t even aware something like this existed.”

He cursed again, but she didn’t let him interrupt her. “Now that I do know, trust me, I won’t let it happen ever again.”

Morgan seemed to measure her words. And then she saw his eyes narrow, his expression darken. He looked at her breasts, and she knew her nipples were still painfully hard. Without a word, he reached out a hand and gently brushed the backs of his knuckles across one sensitive tip, gliding easily over the satiny material of the dress. Misty drew in a sharp breath and felt a small explosion of erotic stimulation throughout her body.

Morgan whispered, “Oh, it’ll happen again, sweetheart, if you hang around. That’s why you need to finish your little visit and hightail it out of town just as fast as you possibly can. My control only goes so far, and it seems you have no control at all.”

The words were like a cold slap, reminding her of all her troubles, of how gullible she’d been, how utterly stupid.

She jerked away and bit her lip hard to keep herself from tearing up. No way would she let the big jerk see her cry. Much as she had hoped to regroup in Buckhorn, she could see that was now impossible. What she would do, she hadn’t a clue. But he was right, leaving was imperative. She had absolutely no desire to get involved with a man again, for any reason. Especially not a domineering, bullheaded behemoth like Morgan Hudson, a man who didn’t even like her, and in fact, seemed to disdain her.

Keeping her back to him, she drew a long, steadying breath. Then she reached for the door. “I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.” Despite her resolve, her voice quavered tenuously.

There was a slight pause. “Misty…”

He sounded uncertain, but she had no intention of discussing things with him. There was no one she could trust except Honey, and she wouldn’t ruin her sister’s current happiness for anything. After she got her life straightened out and made some plans that would hopefully carry her through the coming months, she could begin making confessions to her sibling.

The open door offered no relief from the heat; there wasn’t a single breeze stirring. Misty stepped onto the dewwet grass, then felt Morgan’s hand settle on her shoulder. “Wait a minute.”

She flinched at his tone but didn’t bother trying to move away from him. Just that simple touch, his hand on her shoulder, made her acutely aware of him as a man. She almost hated herself. “What now?”

She turned to face him, trying to look irritated when she was actually breathless. The moonlight was brighter. She could see his every feature—the strong, lean jawline, the harshly cut cheekbones. He was by far the most impressive male she’d ever seen, but then, his brothers were nothing to sneeze at. There must have been a mighty impressive gene pool somewhere to create all that masculine perfection.

He stared at her, not answering at first. He shook his head, distracted, and just when he started to speak, another voice intruded.

“There you are.”

Morgan looked up. “Casey. What in hell are you doing out here?”

Misty turned to see Sawyer’s son. At sixteen, Casey already showed signs of his own masculine superiority. He was tall, nearly six feet, and had the bone structure that promised wide shoulders and long, strong limbs.

“Dad wanted someone to find you and haul you back inside.”

Morgan shook his head. “And of course, you just naturally volunteered for the job.”

Casey chuckled. “Actually, Uncle Jordan and Uncle Gabe beat me to it, and they did seem pretty anxious to come out here and fetch you in, but Dad told me to go instead, on account of he said you wouldn’t slug me.”

Morgan threw an arm around his nephew, held him in a brief headlock and then started them all toward the door. “Don’t be too sure of that, boy. My affection for you is kinda thin at the moment.”

With a laugh, Casey said, “I’m not worried. I can still outrun you.”

“You think so, do you?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m fast—and you’re getting old.” Casey ducked quickly under Morgan’s arm and came to Misty’s side. Walking backward, his grin wide, he said, “Dad also told me if you didn’t want Honey to get after you, I should walk Misty in and you should come in after.”

“He said all that, did he?”

“He said you wouldn’t want to shatter Honey’s skewed illusions, being as she doesn’t know the real you, yet.”

Casey was having a fine time of it, pestering his uncle. Misty smiled to herself, amused at their close camaraderie and a little wistful. Her own family consisted of Honey and her father, since her mother died when they were young. Her father had been overbearing and overcontrolling, cold, without the foundation of love that would have made those personality traits more bearable. If it hadn’t been for Honey, she didn’t think her childhood would have been at all tolerable.

Casey seemed to have a fantastic family foundation. It was easy to see why Honey had fallen in love with the whole clan.

Morgan stopped just out of reach of the patio, still in the shadows where the lights didn’t reach. “You go on in, Casey, and tell your dad I expect him to control his wife. We’ll be there in just a moment.”

“Dad said you’d say that, and then I was supposed to tell you he’s sending Uncle Gabe and Uncle Jordan out in two minutes.”

Morgan made a playful grab for Casey, but he jumped back, laughing. Holding up his hands, he said, “Hey, it was Dad, not me!”

Morgan reached for him again and Casey hurried to the door. After he opened it, he yelled back, “Two minutes, Uncle Morgan!”

“Damn scamp.”

Misty was still smiling, though she felt great sadness inside. “You’re all very close.”

“We helped to raise him. Sawyer got full custody when Casey was just a little pup, and between raising him and finishing med school, he would have been frazzled for sure if we hadn’t all pitched in. Not that it was a chore. Hell, Casey’s always been a great kid, even if his sense of humor is sometimes warped.”

Misty stared at him, dumbfounded. “You helped raise him?”

“Yeah, sure. Along with my mother and the others. What’d you think, that I was too reprehensible to be around a youngster?”

Actually that was exactly what she thought, but she kept the words to herself. “I was just…surprised. The idea of four men raising a baby…”

“Yeah, well, like I said, my mother taught us what we needed to know. But she felt real strong about Sawyer being involved as the dad, and that meant the rest of us just kinda chipped in. I was…let’s see. Nineteen at the time. I’ll admit, the diaper thing threw me for a while there, and having formula spit up on me wasn’t exactly a treat.” Then he grinned. “But the whole uncle bit really turned the girls on. Hell, every time I took Casey into town with me, they’d come on like a mob.”

Misty rolled her eyes. “What a lovely image.”

Morgan laughed, but then his laughter died. “Look, about what happened…”

“You already made yourself pretty clear, Morgan. I don’t think we need to beat it into the ground. I said I’d leave in the morning, and I will.”

He ignored that and sighed. “Malone, I care a lot about your sister. I wouldn’t want her upset.”

She could only stare at him. “You’re worried I’ll say something to Honey? What? Am I supposed to go tattle on you, is that it?”

Even in the dim light she could see the way he locked his jaw. “She wanted us to be friends.”

“Good God!” she exclaimed, and when he frowned she added, “All right, forget the disbelief. For your information, I happen to love my sister.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, and that includes disillusioning her about her new family.” She poked him in the chest, her frustration level going right out the window. Her entire life was presently in the toilet, and Morgan Hudson was worried about her discretion? Ha!

“As far as I’m concerned, Honey can think we got along like best pals. But until I can get out of here tomorrow morning, stay the hell away from me.”

She turned and stalked in, but at the door, she couldn’t resist looking back one last time at Morgan.

He stood there in the moonlight, head tilted toward the dark sky, eyes closed, jaw clenched. His big hands were knotted into fists on his hips. Misty felt herself shiver, even though the evening was oppressively hot.

She knew then that he was right. Tomorrow morning she would leave Buckhorn behind. Hopefully, she’d think of somewhere to stay in the meantime.

She’d spent all her savings fighting the criminal conviction, and lost. She was homeless, out of a job and with no prospects.

And that was the least of her problems.

IF MORGAN HADN’T been lying there awake, his body frustrated, his mind disturbed by sensual images, he might not have heard it. But he hadn’t slept a wink all night, too busy remembering the sweet taste of Misty, the way she’d felt pressed against him. Perfect. Willing. Hot. Though his head told him things had ended when they should, his imagination had insisted on conjuring up a different ending to the tale, and he’d been rock hard and hurting for more hours now than he cared to admit. It was like suffering the curse of wretched puberty all over again, and he had Misty Malone to thank for it.

The squeak came again, and Morgan recognized the sound as the porch swing that hung in the huge oak at the back of the house. Throwing off the sheet that covered him, he stalked naked to the open window and listened. His room was at one end of the house, opposite to Sawyer and Casey’s, with the entire living quarters in between so they all had privacy.

Morgan’s bedroom faced the lake, as did Sawyer’s. As did the porch swing.

Someone was out there and his gut instinct told him it was Misty. He felt it in his bones, by the way his heart beat faster, by the way his stomach knotted. Only Misty had ever had that intense effect on him, and he figured it was mostly because he had to deny himself. If she wasn’t related by marriage, if he could have spent a long, hot weekend with her, indulging all his cravings, he’d be able to get her out of his system.

But he couldn’t, and that was the only reason for his obsession. He was sure of it.

Morgan saw that the moon hadn’t completely set, even while dawn was struggling to break. He glanced at the clock, surprised to see it was barely five-thirty. What was she doing up so early, hanging around outside? Looking for more ways to torment him?

It took him a mere two seconds to decide to go see her. He knew all the reasons he shouldn’t, but something overrode them all, some basic need to spar with her one more time before the rest of the family would be there to pull him back.

He was still buttoning his favorite pair of worn, comfortable jeans, and wearing nothing else, when he stepped out of his room. At the last minute, he stopped, went back into his bedroom and then into his bathroom. He brushed his teeth, giving a disgusted glance at his morning beard and disheveled hair, then decided to hell with it and headed out. But when he passed the kitchen, he halted again and concluded a cup of coffee was definitely in order, if for no other reason than to help him get his bearings before facing her again. She threw him off balance with just a glance, and set his teeth on edge with blinding lust.

As he hurriedly measured the coffee, being careful to be quiet so he wouldn’t wake anyone else, he thought about Misty and how she would look so early in the day, her dark hair still tousled, her eyes soft and warm. He imagined her still in her nightgown, something thin and slinky, and he almost dropped the carafe of water. The anticipation he felt was ridiculous, but real.

For at least a few hours this morning, he’d have her all to himself.

Jordan had an apartment above the garage and would be oblivious to anything and everything until at least ten o’clock. He liked to sleep late on the weekends, his only chance to catch up from his busy week.

Gabe might not even be back yet. He’d been surrounded by the single women of Buckhorn when last Morgan had seen him. But if he was home, his rooms in the basement would insulate him from the normal busy-house noises.

As for Sawyer, he was no doubt occupied with his bride. Morgan wouldn’t be at all surprised if he didn’t leave the bedroom all day. He grinned at that thought, remembering how Casey had told his father to feel free to linger, that he’d take care of all the chores for him.

Morgan was still grinning and feeling a little too anxious when he silently stepped outside with two steaming mugs of coffee. His bare feet didn’t make a sound on the wet morning grass as he walked to the swing. It was a bit chilly, a heavy fog hanging over everything, which turned his first sight of Misty, her back to him, curled up on the swing, into a whimsical, almost ethereal picture. He was only two steps away from her when he heard her give a delicate sniff.

Everything masculine in him froze, and he experienced that incomparable dread men suffered when women turned to tears. He didn’t know what to do. He strained to hear, hoping he’d misunderstood the sound, hoping she had a cold.

She sniffed again, then dabbed at her eyes with a wadded tissue. Oh, hell. Morgan felt a hard, curling ache around his heart and closed his eyes for a moment. The fact that her tears bothered him so much was a sure sign that things were out of control. Just physical attraction, he insisted to himself, despite his burgeoning sympathy and concern. Shoring up his nerve, he announced himself by clearing his throat.

Turning around so quickly she nearly upset the swing, Misty stared at him. She had glasses on, which he’d never seen before, and her hair was tied back with a plain elastic rubber band, long tendrils carelessly escaping. Even in the gray predawn light, he could see that she blushed.

Truth was, she looked like hell, and he hadn’t thought such a thing was possible. Her nose was red and her eyes were hidden behind the reflection of the glasses. His simmering lust died a rapid death, not because of how she looked, but because he knew she was upset, and he was horribly afraid that he was the reason.

Not knowing what else to do, he held out one cup of coffee, for the moment ignoring her distress. “I heard the swing and figured you could use this.”

She glanced at the cup as if it might hold arsenic. Morgan sighed. “It’s coffee. Lots of sugar and cream. I figured since Honey drank hers that way, you likely did, too.”

She took the cup, sipped, then quietly thanked him. Without another word, she turned her head to stare toward the lake, which could barely be seen through the fog. She had simply and plainly dismissed him. Her wishes couldn’t have been any more clear than if she’d come right out and said, Go away.

Nettled, Morgan pretended not to notice.

He moved to sit beside her, never mind that there wasn’t really enough room. She quickly scrambled to get her legs out of the way, and it was then he noticed she was wearing a soft old cotton housecoat. No belt, just fat buttons all the way down the front. It looked loose and comfortable, like something that his sixty-year-old mother would wear when she wasn’t feeling well. All the buttons were done up except the top one, and Misty clutched that small span of material together with a fist.

Morgan pushed a bare foot against the ground, making the swing sway gently, mindful of the coffee they each held. He kept his gaze on her profile. “You wear glasses.”

She didn’t answer him.

“I guess that answers the mystery of your big blue eyes, doesn’t it? I always figured the color was a little too clear, a little too good to be real. Colored contacts?”

Her shoulders stiffened and she turned to him. Over the rim of the glasses, she glared and gave him a view of those perfect, clear, startling blue eyes, unadorned.

Morgan stared into her eyes, then whispered, “I guess I was wrong.”

She turned away again, but muttered, “It’s not the first time.”

Ignoring that, he touched the rubber band sloppily knotted in her hair. “Rough night?”

One hand clutched the coffee mug, the other a damp tissue and the top of her housecoat. She hesitated, then slanted him another look over her wire-framed glasses. “If that’s what you want to think, why not? I mean, you left before me, so it’s entirely possible that once you were gone, I staged an orgy in that nice little gazebo you showed me.”

Morgan sipped his coffee while keeping his gaze on her. His free arm rested over the back of the swing, his fingers almost touching her. Almost. “I somehow doubt your sister would have tolerated that.”

She started to jerk to her feet, but Morgan caught her elbow. “No, don’t let me run you off. I didn’t come out here to harass you.”

“No, you came to see if I was ready to leave. Well, don’t worry. As soon as it’s light, I’ll get dressed and go. I packed last night so I could get an early start. I just wanted to watch the sunrise first.”

Her words made him feel almost as bad as that time Jordan needed help treating an ornery mule and it kicked him in the gut, breaking two of his ribs. Morgan rubbed a hand over his chest, which didn’t do a thing to help this particular ache, then muttered, “It’s for the best and you know it.”

“I’m not arguing with you, Morgan.”

“Good, because I didn’t come out here to argue.”

“No? Then why?”

Hell, why had he come out? Whatever warped reasoning he’d used to justify his actions, he couldn’t remember it now. Because he didn’t have an answer, he tried changing the subject. “You look like you’re…upset.”

She shook her head in denial. “No, not at all.”

But there was that tissue clutched in her hand, and her red nose and watery eyes. His conscience bothered him, and that had to be a first. In the normal course of things, he didn’t bother with a guilty conscience. He was always rock certain of his decisions. “I don’t have anything personally against you, Malone.”

She snorted.

Morgan clenched his jaw, but he was determined to have his say. “It’ll be best for all concerned if you leave soon.”

She sighed, then turned to stare at him. “Yeah, well, you seem to be the only one who thinks so. Gabe spent half the night trying to talk me into hanging around, and Jordan even offered me a job.”

In angry disbelief, he said, “You told them I asked you to leave?”

His anger didn’t faze her. “No. But they knew I’d go sooner or later.” Then she mumbled, “Though sooner seems to be on your personal agenda.”

Morgan struggled to control his temper. “What did you tell Jordan?”

“That I’d think about it.”

His muscles bunched in infuriated reflex. He wanted her gone. He did not want her hanging around his brother. “Like hell.”

She shrugged nonchalantly, egging him on. She had a habit of doing that, deliberately pricking his temper—and his lust. Hell, half the time he was around her he didn’t know for sure what he felt, just that he felt it too keenly and he didn’t like it one damn bit.

Jealousy of his brothers was a unique thing, but he absolutely couldn’t bear the thought of Misty being with one of them. Besides, he knew if she hung around, they’d eventually be involved, he had no doubt about that at all. Acting on gut instinct, he said, “Forget the job with Jordan. I’ll pay you to go.”

Her mouth fell open and she stared at him.

“How much do you want?” he asked, forcing the words out through his teeth.

“You’re not serious.”

“Why not?” He felt goaded and angry and out of control. He absolutely hated it. “You’d use Jordan, taking his infatuation with you to finagle a job. Well, why not use me instead? Hell, at least I know what I’m getting into. So name a price.”

Her lips pinched shut, her eyes narrowed and an angry blush rose from her neck up. Then, as he watched, she gathered herself, and anger was replaced by deliberate belligerence. “Hmm, well now, I know what it was Jordan wanted in exchange for the job. But…exactly what would you expect in return for cash, Morgan? Or do I even need to ask?”

Her innuendo goaded his temper, but more than that, it stirred his desire for her, sending him right over the edge. He broke out in a sweat, his gut clenched, his body hardened. He reached for her, not even sure himself what he would do once he had hold of her. But she surprised him by her reaction. She leaped to her feet with a gasp. The coffee mug fell from her hand to the soft ground with a dull thud, spilling the coffee and rolling a few feet away. Misty covered her mouth with both hands. Her face was pale, and she swayed.

Morgan stood also and caught her to him, ignoring her feeble struggles. “Damn it, are you all right?” He shook her slightly, his alarm growing. “What the hell is wrong with you? Answer me, Malone.”

Staring at him in horror, she opened her eyes wide and then pushed away, ran several feet to a line of bushes and dropped to her knees.

Morgan was dumbfounded. He started after her, but halted when he heard the unmistakable sound of retching. Never had he felt like such a complete and utter ass. He’d been harassing her again, when that hadn’t been his intent at all. He’d argued with her after telling her he wouldn’t. And she was sick. He made a false start toward her, then pulled back, as uncertain of what to do as he’d been on his very first date.

He’d hated the feeling then; at thirty-four, he hated it even more.

She probably drank too much last night, he thought, staring at her slim back as she jerked and shuddered. Some people just couldn’t hold their liquor—though he didn’t remember seeing her imbibe. Mostly she’d just danced and laughed and driven him crazy with an inferno of lust.

When she was done being sick, sitting there on her knees on the damp ground, her arms wrapped around her stomach, he inched closer. He felt totally out of his element, not quite sure what to say or do. But he knew he had to do something. She kept her back to him, no doubt mortified. He knew women could be unaccountably funny about such things. Finally, feeling like a fool, he knelt behind her. “You want me to go get you something to drink?”

She moaned and clutched herself a little tighter. “Just…go…away.”

Morgan hesitated, then lifted one hand to her shoulder, gently rubbing. Touching her made him feel immeasurably better, whether it did anything for her or not. “I bet Sawyer has something he could give you for the hangover.”

She laughed, a raw, broken sound that was close to a moan. “A hangover, Morgan? When I didn’t drink a single drop?”

Way off base with that one, obviously. He nodded. “Okay, not a hangover.”

She shook her head, and more silky strands of midnight hair escaped her rubber band to curl around her cheeks. A few tangled in the armature of her glasses, and he gently pulled them away.

Without looking at him, she said, “You always think the worst of me, don’t you?”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

“I should be used to it. God knows, men always…Oh, just go away.” Her voice was thin, washed out; she sounded too tired to argue.

He couldn’t stop his deep frown or his concern. “If you’re sick, then—”

Her hands fisted on her thighs in a sudden startling display of frustration. Still without looking at him, she hissed, “Damn it, why can’t you just leave me alone?”

He wouldn’t let her rile him again. “Look, Malone, my mother would skin my hide if I left a sick woman wallowing out in the dew, without—”

“I am not sick!”

Her stubbornness annoyed the hell out of him, even as he continued to gently stroke her back. “Oh, then I’m hallucinating? That wasn’t you just puking your guts up in my bushes? Because I have to tell you, Malone, if you’re hoping to be a martyr to get my sympathy, it’s not at all necessary. Hell, I already—”

She turned to him with a feral growl, momentarily startling him, then practically shouted, “I am not sick, you idiot! I’m pregnant.”

OH, GOD. Misty stared at Morgan, horrified by her statement, and ready to be sick all over again. She slapped a hand over her mouth and gulped air through her nose, determined to hold it back. She’d thought the fresh air would help, and it really had, but then Morgan had joined her….

She frowned, her queasy stomach almost forgotten. It was all his fault, and she said, without the demonic tone this time, “I don’t suppose you’ll just forget I said that?”

Dumbly, he shook his head, his eyes still wide, his jaw still slack. For once he wasn’t scowling. He looked too stunned to scowl. “Uh, no. Not likely.”

Her temper snapped. “Oh, of course not. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” She frowned ferociously, wishing she could hit him over his hard head. “Well, it’s none of your business, anyway. And if you tell my sister, I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

Morgan’s expression hadn’t changed. It was a comical mix of surprise, chagrin and helplessness. Something else, too, something bordering on anger, but she couldn’t be sure. He blinked, but didn’t say a word. With a sound of disgust, Misty rolled her eyes and started to get to her feet. “Look, I’m sorry about your bushes. Really. Do you think anyone will notice?” Before he could answer, she added, “But in a way, you’re the one to blame. If you hadn’t kept prodding me…But that doesn’t matter now. I’m feeling much better, fine, in fact, so I’ll just go get dressed and get on my way. Please thank your brothers for me. And tell Honey I’ll be in touch.”

She was rattled, which accounted for the way she was blathering on and on. She wanted to bite her tongue off. She wanted more coffee.

She wanted away from Morgan Hudson.

He’d slowly stood when she had, and now he stepped in front of her, blocking her attempt at a strategic retreat. “I don’t think so, Malone. You’re not going to make a confession like that and then just creep off.”

She was too tired, too mind weary to deal with him now. As if speaking to an idiot, she said, “I didn’t exactly have creeping in mind. I thought I’d dress, pick up my bags, walk out the front door and drive away. There’s a big difference.”

“You were crying. Your eyes are all puffy.”

He said it like a heinous accusation. She waved a negligent hand, not about to explain herself to him. “Don’t be silly. I always look like hell in the morning. Lucky for you, you won’t have to get used to it.”

She started around him again, and this time he picked her up. She would have screamed her head off, she was so exasperated, except she sure as certain didn’t want the other brothers witnessing her this way.

Gabe was such a comedian, he’d probably start joking about the whole thing. And Jordan, with that mesmerizing voice Honey claimed could put a cow to sleep, would do his best to comfort her, which would make her cry again.

And Sawyer—she had no idea how he’d react to his new wife’s sister showing up pregnant.

So instead of screaming, she held herself stiff and tried to ignore how easily Morgan carried her, his incredible strength, the delicious way he smelled this morning and her twinge of ridiculous regret when he sat her on the swing.

It had been so long since she’d been held, so long since she’d felt anything like caring or concern or gentleness, she was almost starving for it. Even Morgan’s aggressive, demanding concern felt like a balm.

But she was also more savvy now, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Morgan Hudson was not a man to take comfort from.

“Uh, Morgan…”

Hands on his thighs, he leaned down in front of her until their noses nearly touched. “I’m going to go get you some juice. If you move so much as your baby toe before I get back, you won’t be happy with my reaction. I mean it, Malone.”

He looked more serious than she’d ever seen him. Not that she was afraid of him and his threats, but again, a ruckus might wake everyone else.

She turned her head away. “Bully.”

“Damn right.”

He sauntered off, but as if he hadn’t trusted her to stay put, he was back in less than a minute. Misty hadn’t moved, only because she was so tired. For weeks now she’d been trying to come up with a solution, but the problems just kept adding up, and she hadn’t a clue what to do. Finding a job was obviously top of the list. Then she could sell her car to make the first month of rent once she found a place she could afford.

Borrowing money from her father was out of the question. She wouldn’t ask him for a nickel. They had never been close and she knew without approaching him what his reaction to her most recent problems would be. Probably even worse than his reaction to her pregnancy, which predictably had been disappointment. He’d give her money, but that’s all he’d ever give, never understanding or emotional support. She had enough to deal with without his overwhelming condemnation on her shoulders.

No, she’d rather go it alone than go to her father.

She was still frowning, deep in thought, when Morgan handed her a tall, cold glass of orange juice. The juice looked wonderful, and she accepted it gladly. Sipping, she said, “I thank you—at least for the drink.”

Morgan seated himself beside her and crossed his long arms over his massive chest. With his dark frown and set jaw, he looked belligerent and antagonistic. She didn’t like his attitude at all.

She liked him even less.

Knowing he hated it when she acted brazen, and hoping he’d go away and leave her alone with her misery, she said, “You know, you really should show a little more decorum. Running around half naked is almost barbaric. Especially for a man built like you.”

He blinked in surprise, and his brows smoothed out. “A man built like me?”

“Yeah, you know.” She glanced at his hard, hair-covered chest, felt a shot of heat straight through the pit of her stomach and raised her brows. “All muscle-bound. You do that to attract the women? Because while I appreciate the sight of your sexy body, I’m not at all attracted.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to distract me, Malone?”

She sighed. “No, I’m being honest. You’re an incredibly good-looking man, Morgan. And evidently a pushy one, too. But I’m not interested in any man, for any reason. I’m through with the lot of you—for good. Besides, I’m leaving today, and with any luck, you’ll be long married with kids of your own and moved away before I ever visit again.” She nodded at his chest once more. “You’re wasting the excellent display on the likes of me.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, considering most of what you just said was bunk. You are interested—at least in me.” His voice dropped, and he looked her over slowly. She felt the touch of his gaze like a stroke of heat, from the top of her thighs to the base of her throat. “Last night proved that.”

Misty swallowed hard, feeling a new sensation in her belly that wasn’t at all unpleasant. “Last night was an aberration. I’ve had a lot on mind and you took me by surprise.”

He let that slide without comment. “The part about me moving out is true enough, though. But I won’t be far. The house on the hill? That’s mine. It’ll be ready to move into soon.”

She couldn’t see the house from here, but she remembered admiring it when she first arrived. It wasn’t quite as large as this one, but it was still impressive. She wondered if he already had the wife picked out, too, but didn’t ask. “Good for you.”

Tilting his head, his look still far too provocative, Morgan said, “I’m curious about this professed disinterest of yours, especially considering your condition.”

“My condition?” She hated how he said that—just as her father had, just as her fiancé had—with something of a sneer. She wanted the baby and she wouldn’t apologize for having it, not to anyone, and certainly not to him. “It’s not a disease, you know.”

His gaze hardened. “When’re you getting married, Malone?”

The words were casual, almost softly spoken, but they sounded lethal. And his stare was so intent, so burning, she looked at his chest instead of meeting his eyes. “None of your business.”

“I’m making it my business.”

The juice did wonders for settling her nausea and she finally felt more herself. Morning sickness was the pits, and she hoped she got past that stage soon, though now that the worst had happened and she’d been sick in front of Morgan, anything else had to be an improvement. “You do that a lot, do you? Butt in where you’ve got no business being? I bet that’s why you took the position of sheriff. It gives you a legal right to nose around into other people’s affairs.”

He looked off to the distance, and Misty, following his gaze, saw that the sun was beginning its slow climb into the sky. It was a beautiful sight, sending a crimson glow across the placid surface of the lake, bringing a visual warmth that had her feeling better already. She sighed, knowing she’d never forget this place and how incredibly perfect it seemed.

Then Morgan spoke again, reminding her of a major flaw to the peaceful setting. Him.

“We can sit here until everyone else joins us if you want, but I got the impression you’re keeping your departure a secret.”

She sighed again, actually more of a huff. “You’ve got no right to badger me about something that is none of your damn business, Morgan.”

“You’re family now,” he explained with a straight face. “That gives me all the rights I need.”

Something that ludicrous deserved her undivided attention. She stared at him, almost speechless, but not quite. “Family? Get real.”

He looked her over slowly, and she knew, even before he told her, that he was making a point. “Oh, you’re family, all right, because if you weren’t, we’d never have left that damn gazebo, that is, not until things ended in a way that we’d both have enjoyed. A lot.”

The tone of his voice, both aggressive and persuasive, sank into her bones. Her stomach flip-flopped and her toes curled. Damn him, how could he do this to her now, when she’d just been sick, when she didn’t like him, when he didn’t much care for her? It wasn’t fair that of all the men in all the world, Morgan Hudson had this singular effect on her.

But then, little in her life had been fair lately.

She shook her head, denying both him and herself. “You’re twisting things around—”

“I’m stating a fact.”

“The fact is that you want me as far from your family as you can manage!”

His shrug was negligent, but his gaze was hard. “As you pointed out, everyone else feels differently. Jordan even offered you a job.”

“Which I refused.”

His brows shot up. “You did?”

He sounded surprised, but then, she had been purposely harassing him by letting him think otherwise. That had been childish, and not at all smart. She sighed. “Of course I did.”

“Why?”

Exasperated by his suspicious tone, she explained, “This’ll be a shock, I’m sure, but I’m not the party girl you seem to think I am, Morgan. I realize both your brothers were likely just fooling around, but I don’t intend to take any chances. I’m not interested in fun and games, and as I already told you, I’m even less interested in being serious with someone. I didn’t want to accidentally encourage either of them, so I thanked Jordan for the offer, but declined, and I told Gabe I had other responsibilities and couldn’t hang around any longer. So you can relax your vigil. Both your brothers are safe from my evil clutches.”

He didn’t react to her provocation this time, choosing instead to hark back to his earlier question. “When are you getting married?”

He wouldn’t give up, she could tell. He looked settled in and disgruntled and determined. She was so tired of fighting men, her ex-fiancé, her ex-boss, even the damn lawyers and the judge. Maybe once she told Morgan everything, he’d be glad to be rid of her. She slumped into her seat, all fight gone. “I give up. You win.”

He didn’t gloat, and he didn’t sound exactly pleased with himself. He was simply matter-of-fact in his reply. “I always do.” Then more quietly, “When are you getting married?”

“I’m not.” She felt him studying her and she twisted to face him so she could glare right back. “I’m not getting married, okay? There’s no groom, no wedding, no happily ever after. Satisfied now?”

There was a sudden stillness, then Morgan relaxed, all the tension ebbing out of him, his breathing easier, his expression less stern. She hadn’t even realized he was holding himself so stiffly until he returned to his usual cocky self. He uncrossed his arms to spread one over the back of the swing, nearly touching her shoulder, and he shifted, all his big muscles sort of loosening and settling in.

In a tone meant to clarify, he asked, “You’re not getting married?”

“What, do you want it written in blood? I’m not getting married. The very idea is repugnant. I have absolutely no interest in marriage.”

“I see.” The aggression was gone, replaced by something near to sympathy, and to Misty, that was even worse. “What happened to the father of the baby?”

Why not, she thought, fed up with fending him off. “He found out he was going to be a father and offered me money for an abortion.” She wouldn’t look at him. The humiliation and pain she’d felt that day was still with her. It had been the worst betrayal ever—or so she’d thought, until she’d lost her job. “I refused, he got angry, and we came to an agreement.”

“What agreement?”

“I wouldn’t bother him with the baby, and he wouldn’t bother with me.”

The swing kept moving, gently, lulling her, and though Morgan was silent, it didn’t feel like a condemning silence as much as a contemplative one. Finally he asked, “How long have you been sick in the mornings?”

“Only for a few weeks. And before you ask, yes, I’ll tell Honey. But not now. She has a tendency to worry about me, to play the role of big sister even though I’m only a year younger than her. She’s so happy with Sawyer now, she doesn’t need to hear about my problems just yet.”

His fingers gently touched her hair, smoothing it. It was clearly a negligent touch, as if he did it without thought. When she glanced at him, she saw he was watching her closely.

“Will the baby be a problem?”

“No! I want the baby.”

His gaze softened. “That’s not what I mean.”

Lifting her chin, she said, “If you’re asking me if I’ll be a good mother, I hope so. I don’t have much experience, but I intend to do my absolute best.”

“No, I wasn’t accusing you of anything or questioning your maternal instincts.” He smiled slightly. “I just wonder if you know what you’re getting into. Babies are a full-time job. How do you intend to work and care for it, too, without any help?”

She shook her head. Since she didn’t even have a job at present, she didn’t have an answer for him.

“Will you be able to get a leave of absence?”

The irony of that question hit her and she all but laughed. Instead, she turned her face away so he couldn’t see how lost she felt.

Morgan touched her cheek. “Malone?”

“Isn’t this interrogation about over?”

“I don’t think so. So why don’t you make it easy on yourself and just answer my questions?”

“Somehow I don’t think this conversation is going to be easy on me no matter what I do.”

He got quiet over that. “I don’t mean to make things difficult for you.”

“Don’t you?”

“I didn’t create this situation, Malone, and the attraction isn’t one-sided. Will you at least admit that much?”

She didn’t want to, but saw no point in denying it. “Yeah, so? I think the fact I’m pregnant and without a groom shows my judgment to be a bit flawed, so don’t let it go to your head.”

His large hand cupped the back of her skull, his fingers gently kneading. The tenderness, after his previous attitude, was startling. “Everyone makes a mistake now and then. You’re not the first.”

“Which mistake are we referring to? Me being pregnant, or my response to you?”

Again, he was quiet.

She decided to make a clean break, to finish her confessions and get away before she became morose again. She slapped her palms on her thighs, turned to him with a take-charge air and said, “Okay. You’ve worn me down. Besides, the sun is almost completely up. Everyone will be waking soon, and I hope to get out of here before that. I’d just as soon avoid the lengthy goodbyes if I can. So tell me, Sheriff, what other intrusive questions do you have for me before I’m formally dismissed?”

Again, he easily ignored her sarcasm. “How far along are you? You sure as certain don’t look pregnant.”

She laughed shortly. “Yeah, just think, if I did look pregnant we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation right now!”

“Malone?”

“Three months.” She gave him a crooked grin. “From what I understand, I may not start to show until my fifth, maybe even my sixth month. By then, I’ll be a distant memory for you, Morgan.”

“But you’re sure you are—”

“Had the test, so yes, I’m sure. Besides, I feel the pregnancy in other ways.”

His gaze went unerringly to her breasts, now thoroughly hidden beneath her sexless robe. Still, she practically squirmed with the need to shield herself with her hands. She resisted the telltale reaction. “Yep, I’m bigger now,” she said, doing her best to sound flippant, unaffected. Trying not to blush. Her glasses slipped a bit, and she pushed them back up.

“What about your job?”

Hedging, she asked, “What about it?”

“It occurs to me that I don’t know all that much about you.”

Her eyes widened and she laughed. “Now there’s a revelation for you. Of course, anytime you don’t know something, you just fill it in with fiction.”

He touched her cheek with the back of one finger and his expression was regretful. “I admit to making some pretty hasty assumptions. But you haven’t helped, Misty, coming on the way you did.”

“I didn’t—”

“Yeah, you did.” He smiled just a little, making her heart twist. “You flirt with everyone.”

She sighed. “True enough. I was trying to act cheerful and worry-free so Honey wouldn’t suspect anything. Maybe I overdid it just a bit.”

“And maybe I want you bad enough that all you have to do is breathe and it seems like a seduction. At least to me.”

Her gaze shot to his face; she was speechless.

“It’s true, you know. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman the way I do you.” His hand opened and his palm cupped her cheek. “Even now, with you looking like a maiden aunt and after you tossed your cookies in the bushes. Even knowing you’re pregnant with another man’s baby, I still want you.”

She shook her head, words beyond her.

“I know. It’s a damnable situation, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not.” She was resolute, driven by her emotional fear. “I’m leaving, this morning, right now if you’ll just stop questioning me and let me leave without a fuss.”

“It’s not that easy, Malone, now that I know you’re in trouble.”

“Such an old-fashioned sentiment! Unmarried pregnant women are no longer in trouble. They’re just…pregnant.” She gave a negligent shrug.

“All right, if you say so.” He looked far from convinced. “So quit hedging and reassure me. Where do you work?”

Knowing that, as sheriff, it would be easy enough for him to check, and not doubting for a moment that he probably would, she sniffed and said, “I only recently left Vision Videos.”

“Vision Videos?”

“A small, privately owned video store. It’s located in the town I…used to live in.” She sincerely hoped he missed her small hesitation. The idea of being homeless was still pretty new to her. “It’s very small scale, only three employees besides the owner, but the store did incredible business. He’d planned to open another location by the end of the summer and I was going to run it for him.”

“But you’re not now?”

“Now, I’m in the process of reevaluating my options.”

He stared, and his softly stroking fingers went still. With disbelief ringing from every word, he said, “You’re unemployed?”

“Momentarily, yes.”

His eyes narrowed. “By choice? Because I’ll tell you, if your boss fired you for being pregnant, that’s against the law….”

“No, he didn’t fire me for that.”

Morgan’s back stiffened, and his scowl grew darker. “But he did fire you?”

“Actually…yes.”

“Why?”

“He…well, he accused me of doing something I didn’t do.”

“Damn it, Malone,” he suddenly burst out, his irritation evident, his patience at an end. “It’s like pulling snake teeth to get you to tell the whole—”

“All right!” She shot to her feet, every bit as annoyed as he was. Hands on her hips, she faced him. “All right, damn it. I was convicted of stealing from him. Three hundred dollars. But I didn’t do it, only they believed that I did!”

Morgan stood, too, and now he looked livid. “They?”

She waved a hand. “The owner, the lawyer I had to hire, the despicable judge. Everyone.”

Very slowly, Morgan reached out and took hold of her shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”

Misty had no idea if he was angry with her or the situation. She tried to shrug his hands away, but he held on. Her temper was still simmering, though, and she was in no mood for his attitude, so she jerked away and then sat on the swing, giving a hard kick to make it move. Morgan grabbed the swing to stop it and sat beside her. “I’m waiting.”

She crossed her arms over her breasts. He made her feel vulnerable and defensive when she had no reason to feel either one. “Not long after I found out I was pregnant and Kent, my ex, bailed out, I was at work and the cash came up short. The woman who’d worked before me had signed out and made her deposit, so the money had to have been taken during my shift. Only I didn’t take it and I don’t know where it went. I was in the bathroom—” She glanced at him. “Pregnant women spend a lot of time in the bathroom.”

He made a face. “Go on.”

“Anyway, there was no one in the store, so I made a quick run to the bathroom, and when I came back out, my boss and his girlfriend were just coming in. He was royally ticked that I’d left the counter, even after I explained that the store was empty and that I’d hurried. We argued, because he said I’d missed too much work lately, as well. See, I’d come in late twice, because of the morning sickness. Anyway, he was in a foul mood and being unreasonable, to my mind. I’d never been late or missed work before. Not ever. That’s why he was going to make me a manager of the new store, because I was a good worker and dependable and all that.”

“Get to the point, Malone.”

She wanted to smack him. Instead, she said, “He checked the drawer and found out the money was missing. I still can’t believe he accused me of stealing it. I’d been working for him for two years. I did everything, from inventory to decorations to promotion to sales to orders. I’m the one that helped that business do so well! I thought he trusted me.”

“He called the cops?”

“Yes.” The police had arrived, and she now knew firsthand the procedure used for thiefs. She shuddered with the memory, which wasn’t one she intended to share with Morgan. “To make a long story short, the lawyer I hired said they had a good case against me. I was the only one in the store at the time the money was taken, and they found out I was pregnant, that the father of the baby had taken off. They painted me a desperate woman, with plenty of motive to take the money. He suggested I plead guilty to save myself a bundle in lawyer fees and court costs. I…I refused. So my lawyer suggested that I go with a trial to the bench, since that would get it over with quickly.”

“I gather that wasn’t the best decision possible?”

She shook her head. “A jury might not have been so autocratic or sexist.”

“Sexist?”

“Yes. The judge was a stern-faced old relic who saw me as a femme fatale just because I’m young and I don’t exactly look like a college professor.”

One brow shot up, and his mouth quirked. “You mean because you’re sexy as hell and he noticed?”

“That’s not funny, Morgan.”

“No, it’s not. Sorry.”

He still looked amused, though, which annoyed her no end. The judge’s reaction to her had been salt in the wound. She could still remember how exposed she’d felt, standing before him.

She looked away and said quietly, “He gave me six months probation, made me pay back the three hundred dollars I hadn’t even taken, as well as court costs and legal fees, then finished up with a scathing lecture about my responsibilities and morals and hoping I’d learned my lesson.” She snorted. “The lesson I learned was that men see things one way, which is seldom the right or honorable way, and they sure as hell can’t be trusted.”

“Misty…”

“Don’t use that tone on me, Morgan Hudson. You got what you wanted, all the nitty-gritty details. Well, now I’m done. I want to get out of here. I need to go find a job, and I’m just plain not up to fighting with you anymore, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“No.”

“No?” Incredulous, she turned to face him. “What do you mean, no?”

He stood, then caught her arm and pulled her to her feet. Still holding her, his gaze intent on her face, he said softly, “I mean you’re not going anywhere, Malone. You’re going to stay right here.”

MORGAN STARED at Misty, knowing that despite her outraged frown, there was no way he could let her go, not now. Her shoulders felt narrow and frail beneath his big hands, and he wished like hell she looked pregnant, so she’d be easier to resist. But she didn’t. She looked soft and sexy, even with a red nose and those hideous glasses. He wanted her more than ever, but that was beside the point.

At least she wasn’t planning on getting married. Though it wasn’t any of his damn business, the very idea had set his teeth on edge. She could certainly do better than settling for some clown who didn’t want his own child. He swore to himself that was the only reason it bothered him. Then he called himself a fool.

“You can’t be off on your own right now. You said it yourself, you don’t have a job, and you’re sick.”

She gave him a blank stare, as if he was a stranger.

“Damn it, Misty, you know I’m right!”

“I know you’re nuts, that’s what I know.” He made a grumbling sound, and she said in exasperation, “It’s morning sickness, Morgan, that’s all. I’m fine the rest of the time. I’m perfectly capable of finding and working a job. Pregnant woman do it all the time, you know.”

Actually, his mind was buzzing with possibilities. If she stayed—and she would because he didn’t intend to give her a choice—he could give her a job. He’d long since figured they needed someone to answer the phones at the office, but more often than not folks just called him directly. It was a small county, and the crime level was amazingly low, so he’d been in no rush to hire a new deputy. But a secretary of sorts, someone to keep track of his schedule and forward calls and take notes, that’d be a blessing.

He’d put off the hiring for some time now. He hadn’t really wanted anyone else mucking around his offices. But now…

He eyed her belligerent expression and winced. Better to tell her about the job later, when she wasn’t so annoyed with him. He gave her a slight shake. “So what do you intend to do?”

“I intend to punch you in the nose if you don’t stop manhandling me!”

His fingers flexed on her shoulders, very gently, and he saw her eyes darken. He hadn’t hurt her, would never deliberately hurt her. No, her complaint was for an entirely different reason. “Manhandling, huh?” he asked softly. “And here I thought I was being all that was considerate and caring.”

She bit her lip in indecision, then resolutely shook her head. “Not likely, Morgan. You’re up to something, I just haven’t figured out what yet.”

Her opinion of him was far from flattering, with good reason, he supposed. He dropped his hands and turned to think, only to hear her stomping away. He caught the back of her robe and drew her up short. “Whoa. Now where are you off to? We have to finish discussing this.”

Through gritted teeth, she said, “There’s no we to it, and there’s nothing to discuss.” She swatted his hands away and jutted her chin toward him. “I’m going in to shower and dress, and then I’m leaving. You won’t have to worry about me at all, and your precious brothers will be safe from my lascivious tendencies.”

Damn it, she was trying to make him feel guilty—and succeeding. “You let me think the worst about that, Malone. Admit it.”

“You always assume the worst,” she argued. “I’m not responsible for the way your mind works.”

“No, you’re not. But in a way, it is your fault.” She looked ready to erupt, so he added, “I get around you, Malone, and I can barely think at all, much less with any logic. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got the hots for you in a really bad way.”

Her face went blank for a split second, and he braced himself for an attack. Then suddenly her mouth twitched, and she burst out laughing. “Is that your way of saying you’re sorry?”

Hearing her laugh was nice, even if she was laughing at him. “I suppose you think I owe you that much?”

“Nope.” Her glasses slid down her nose and more hair escaped the rubber band. She looked disheveled and vulnerable and so damn female he felt rigid from his neck all the way down to his toes. “I don’t think you owe me a darn thing, Morgan, except to butt out of my business.”

Shrugging in apology, he whispered, “I can’t do that.”

“You,” she said with emphasis, “have no choice in the matter.”

“I can help you, Malone.”

“You want to help?” She turned away from him, then said over her shoulder, “Leave me be.”

Why, Morgan wondered as she stalked away, would she steal money from an employer, but not take money from him when it was freely offered? Especially considering the situation she was in. And not only had she refused the money, she’d been downright livid over the idea. Somehow it didn’t fit, and he damn well intended to find out what was going on.

Later. Right now he was busy plotting. She had turned down the money, but maybe she’d accept his help in other ways once he talked her into staying. He wasn’t raised to turn his back on a woman in her predicament, especially considering that she was part of the family. Whether she liked it or not, that excuse was good enough for him.

He picked up the coffee mugs and her empty juice glass, then headed into the kitchen. He had a few things to take care of before she finished showering, so he might as well get to them. First was that ragtag little car of hers. Removing a few spark plugs ought to do the trick. Getting his brothers out of bed would be a little harder, considering the night they’d all had, but they would rally together for a good cause, and he definitely considered Misty Malone a good cause. Given how all his brothers had doted on her the past couple of weeks, he had no doubt they’d feel the same.

Twenty minutes later, Morgan was sitting at the kitchen table with a bleary-eyed Casey when Misty walked in. The others hadn’t quite made it that far yet, but Morgan knew they’d present themselves shortly.

Casey, with his head propped in his hand, glanced at her and yawned. “Morning, Misty. What’re you doing up so early?”

Misty stopped dead in her tracks. Her hair was freshly brushed and twisted into a tidy knot on the top of her head that Morgan thought made her look romantic and amazingly innocent. Her glasses were gone—thank God—and she no longer had a red nose. She wore a yellow cotton camisole with cutoff shorts and strappy little sandals and she looked good enough to eat.

Morgan drew in a shuddering breath with that image and steered his wayward thoughts off the erotic and onto the essential.

Rather than answer Casey, her accusing gaze swung toward Morgan and there was murder in her eyes. He grinned. He’d rather have her fighting mad than looking morose any day. Leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, Morgan said, “What’s with the suitcase, Malone?”

Casey, who hadn’t noticed the luggage yet, sat up straight. His gaze bounced back and forth several times between the suitcase and Misty’s face, and he looked more alert than he had only five seconds ago. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

Misty ground her teeth, then whipped around to face Casey with a falsely bright smile plastered in place. “’Fraid so, kiddo. I have things to do. But I did enjoy my visit. Tell your dad thanks for me, okay?”

She started to move, but Casey jumped up, looking panicked, and all but blocked her way. “But Dad’ll kill me if you leave without saying goodbye! I mean, Honey will be upset and that’ll upset Dad. Just hang around for breakfast, okay?” He glanced at Morgan for backup. “Tell her, Uncle Morgan. Shouldn’t she stay and have breakfast?”

Morgan nodded slowly. “I do believe you’re right, Casey.”

“Ah, no…It’s better if I—”

The kitchen door swung open and Jordan dragged himself in. He was wearing a pair of unsnapped jeans and scratching his belly while yawning hugely. His hair was still mussed and he looked like he could have used another six hours of sleep, at least. The last Morgan had seen him last night, three of the local women were trying to talk him into taking each of them home. It was a hell of a predicament for his most reserved brother.

Morgan had not one whit of sympathy for him.

Because Jordan had taken the path from the garage—where he kept his apartment—to the kitchen, the bottoms of his feet were wet. When he saw Misty packed up and ready to go, he nearly slipped on the linoleum floor in his surprise.

Morgan caught him, then pushed him upright. If Jordan knocked himself out, he’d be no help at all.

In his usual mellow tones, Jordan asked, “What’s going on here?” He dried his feet on a throw rug while quietly studying everyone in turn.

Morgan feigned a casual shrug. “Misty says she’s leaving.”

Casey crossed his arms, ready to add his two cents’ worth. “She’s not even going to tell anyone goodbye.”

Looking from Casey’s disapproving face to Misty’s red cheeks before finally meeting Morgan’s gaze, Jordan frowned. Not a threatening frown, as Morgan favored, but rather a contemplative one. Jordan was no dummy and caught on quickly that this was the reason he’d been summoned from his bed. He fastened his jeans now that he knew there was a lady present, then took several cautious steps forward, making certain not to slip again. Holding Misty’s shoulders, he asked softly, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why are you sneaking off like this?”

Morgan didn’t like his brother’s intimate tone at all. And he sure as hell didn’t like Jordan touching her. He glowered at Misty as he said, “I don’t think she wanted anyone to know she was going.”

Jordan glanced at Morgan, then crossed his arms over his chest and regarded Misty with quiet speculation. “Is that true?”

After a long, drawn out sigh, Misty dropped her heavy bag and propped her hands on her hips. “I’m not sneaking, exactly. You all knew I was going to be leaving today.”

Gabe spoke from the doorway where he’d negligently propped himself, unnoticed. “Not true.” He gave Morgan a look, then came into the kitchen and dropped into a chair with a theatrical yawn. He, too, was bare-chested, but he wore loose cotton pull-on pants. “You said you couldn’t stay, Misty, but you didn’t say a damn thing about taking off today at six-thirty in the morning. Hell, the birds aren’t even awake yet, so I’d definitely call that sneaking. What’s up, sweetheart?”

Misty looked ready to expire. Morgan took pity on her and pulled out a chair. “Why don’t you at least sit down, Malone, while you do your explaining?” He reached for her arm, but she sidestepped him. Breathing hard, she glared at them all, then said, “I’m leaving, that’s all there is to it. I’m already packed and I want to get an early start. I’m not good at long goodbyes, so…if you’ll excuse me?”

She picked up her bag and headed for the door. Her car was parked at the side of the house, close to the back door. There was a flurry of arguments from Casey, Jordan and Gabe, but Morgan had expected no less of them. It was why he’d so rudely dragged them out of their warm, comfortable beds. Unfortunately, Misty wasn’t going to be swayed by them.

She stormed out of the house in righteous fury, and they all trailed behind, talking at once. Morgan listened to their arguments for why she should stay and even commended his brothers for making some good points.

Misty did an admirable job of ignoring them.

When Jordan realized how serious she was, he took the suitcase from her hand while stabbing Morgan with curious looks, as if waiting for him to stop her somehow.

Morgan almost laughed. He’d known there was no way he’d be able to bring her around. If he wasn’t missing his guess, he was the biggest reason she was so set on going. That was why he’d pulled the spark plugs, as insurance until he got her over her pique and could make her see reason.

After Jordan stowed her suitcase in the back seat, he reached for Misty and pulled her into a fierce hug. To Morgan, seething at the sight of Misty snuggled up against Jordan’s bare chest, the embrace didn’t look at all familial. He was just about to tear them apart when Jordan leaned back the tiniest bit to look at her.

“Where will you be staying?” Jordan asked. “Is there a number where we can call you?”

Misty appeared stumped for just a moment, which made Morgan very suspicious, then she brightened. “I’m sort of moving around at the moment. But I’ll let you know when I get settled, okay?”

Morgan continued to study her. It was amazing, even to him, but he could read her like a book, and he knew without a doubt she didn’t have any place to stay. He wanted to throttle her, and he wanted to hold her tight.

Gabe stepped up next for his own hug, and he even dared to kiss her on the cheek, lingering for what Morgan considered an inappropriate amount of time. Morgan gave serious thought to throwing Gabe back into the basement. “If you change your mind,” Gabe said, “promise you’ll come back.”

“I promise. And thank you.”

Casey shook his head. “My death will be on your hands, because Dad is still going to kill me.”

Morgan silently applauded Casey’s forlorn expression, but Misty didn’t buy it. She actually grinned. “Your father wouldn’t hurt a hair on your head, and you know it! Now give me a hug.” With a crooked smile, Casey obeyed.

And even that made Morgan grind his teeth. Casey was a good head taller than Misty with shoulders much wider. Morgan didn’t like it at all. Hell, so far they’d all touched her more than he had!

Misty didn’t even bother looking at Morgan. He crossed his arms and waited until she’d gotten behind the wheel and pulled her door shut, then he leaned back against a tall oak tree. He considered himself patience personified.

Jordan stepped up to him with an intent frown. It was unlike Jordan to be so disgruntled, and Morgan raised a taunting brow. “Sorry to see her go?”

Jordan didn’t rile easily. “You got me out of bed just to tell her goodbye? I figured you’d stop her somehow. Honey’s going to be damn upset when she finds out we let her leave.”

Morgan eyed his brother a moment longer, decided he didn’t see any signs of lovesickness, and turned to stare at Misty. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Misty gave one final cheery wave to them all and turned the key. The engine ground roughly, whined, but didn’t quite turn over. Frowning, she tried again. The car still wouldn’t start.

Satisfied, Morgan watched Gabe saunter over to him, Casey at his side. “You tinkered with her car?” He sounded faintly approving. Gabe was the mechanic and handyman in the family. If he’d thought of it or had had time, he likely would have done the same.

Morgan gave him a wounded look. “Now, would I do a thing like that? I’m the law around here, Gabe, you know that. Tampering with a car is illegal.” He looked at Misty with a smile. “I’m sure of it.”

Grinning, Gabe went to the driver’s window and tapped on it. When Misty rolled down her window, he said, “Doesn’t sound like she’s going to start, hon.”

Misty dropped her head onto the steering wheel and ignored Gabe, ruthlessly twisting the key once again. She looked so forlorn that Morgan almost couldn’t stand it. He wanted to lift her out of the car, hold her, tell her everything would be okay. He wanted, damn it, to take care of her. To protect her.

Because she was family.

Because she was a woman in need.

Because it was the right thing to do.

Not because he cared for her personally. Wanting a woman and caring for her were two different things, and he was never one to confuse the issues. Yes, he wanted her, more so now than ever, which seemed odd in the extreme. But he could deal with that. What he couldn’t deal with was the idea of her running off with no place to go, and the fact that she’d be alone at a time when she needed family most.

So maybe she’d gotten into some trouble? He wasn’t completely convinced yet. But even if it was true, everyone made mistakes, and being a pregnant, unmarried woman was as good a reason for theft as any he’d ever heard. He didn’t approve, but he did understand. She was still young, only twenty-four, and she’d found herself in a hell of a predicament.

From the sound of it, she’d more than paid for the crime, not only financially, but emotionally, as well. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to own up to it if she was guilty. Few people tended to brag about their bad judgment.

Convinced that he was still in control of things, including his own tumultuous emotions, Morgan walked over to the car and opened the back door. He lifted out her bag then nudged Gabe aside. He pulled her door open and cupped his free hand around her upper arm. Gabe stood there grinning at him, while Jordan and Casey watched with satisfaction.

“C’mon, Malone,” Morgan said. “Sitting out here moping isn’t going to solve anything.”

She smacked her head onto the steering wheel again. “I can’t be this unlucky.”

Morgan hesitated, but he knew damn good and well he’d done the right thing. He’d needed to buy some time to undo the damage he’d inflicted with his insistence that she should leave. Later, she’d thank him. “Rattling your brains won’t help. Come inside and we’ll figure something out.”

She leaned back in the seat and stared at him. “I hope you’re happy now.”

His smile was only fleeting before he wiped it away. “I’m getting there.” He urged her out of the car and kept hold of her arm even as they walked back in. He was pleased that she didn’t pull away from him. That surely showed some small measure of trust, didn’t it?

Unfortunately, something he hadn’t figured on happened: they found Sawyer and Honey smooching in the kitchen, wrapped up together in no more than a sheet.

Morgan halted abruptly when he saw them, which caused Misty to stumble into his side and Jordan to bump into his back. Like dominoes toppling one another, they all ended up crammed into the tiny doorway, gawking.

Misty groaned at the sight of her sister, then turned her face into Morgan’s side. “I’m cursed.”

At her softly spoken words, Honey jerked away from her husband, looked up, then blushed furiously. “Oh, Lord.” She clutched at the sheet, pulling it up to her throat and all but leaving Sawyer buck naked. “It’s barely six-thirty! We thought everyone was still in bed!”

Sawyer grabbed for an edge of the sheet to retain his modesty in front of Misty, then turned to frown at his brothers. “What the hell is going on?” He noticed the suitcase Morgan held, and his expression altered. “You going somewhere, Morgan?”

Standing on tiptoe, Casey attempted to see over Morgan’s shoulder, then stated, “Misty was going to leave, but Morgan stopped her.”

Sawyer glanced at his wife, then blinked at his son. His confusion was amusing, if unfortunate. “Leave where?”

“I don’t know.” Casey gave an elaborate shrug. “Home, I guess, though she said she’s in the middle of moving somewhere and she’d have to tell us where exactly after she got settled. I tried to stop her, Dad, honest, but she was determined—”

Morgan felt Misty tremble and said, “That’s enough, Case.” Then to Sawyer: “Just a misunderstanding. What are you two doing out here? We thought you’d…sleep in…till at least noon.”

Grinning like a rogue, Sawyer announced, “We needed nourishment.”

Honey turned bright pink and elbowed her husband, who grabbed her and kissed her hard on the mouth. Morgan couldn’t help but smile at them. Though Sawyer had fought it hard, he was so crazy in love with Honey, it was fun to watch them.

Morgan wanted a relationship like that. Then he thought of Misty beside him, the exact opposite of her sister, and he scowled.

Jordan shoved his way past the others. “If you two newlyweds want to go back to bed, I’ll bring you a tray in just a few minutes. Coffee and bagels?”

“Perfect.” Sawyer tried to turn Honey around, but she wasn’t budging.

“Misty?” Honey looked oblivious to Sawyer’s efforts. “You were going to leave without telling me?”

There was no mistaking her hurt, and although Morgan wouldn’t have put Misty through such an ordeal, he decided it was probably best to get it all out in the open at once. The sooner Misty got through it, the sooner she could understand that she didn’t need to leave.

He was surprised and pleased when he felt Misty’s hand slip into his, and he squeezed her fingers tight, then answered for her. “Well, she’s not going anywhere right now because her car won’t start. You don’t have to worry.”

Honey’s brows shot up. “Her car won’t start?” She sent a suspicious look at Gabe. “Did you tamper with her car like you did mine?”

Gabe straightened from his sleepy, slouched position and crossed his heart with dramatic flair. “Never touched it. Hell, I just got up. I’m not awake enough to be playing with engines.”

Jordan spoke before Honey could turn her cannons on him. “Same here. I didn’t even know she was planning to leave until I saw her with her suitcase.”

Misty stared at her sister, and Morgan could feel her tensing. “They tampered with your car?”

Honey shrugged. “I wanted to leave, because I thought I was intruding and putting them all in danger. But they weren’t worried, and they thought it’d be better if I stayed here with them. They knew I couldn’t very well leave without transportation, so they kept my car disabled. I thought Gabe was fixing it for me, but instead he was making sure it wouldn’t run if I tried to sneak off.” Honey smiled at her husband, then added, “Their intentions were good, so I forgave them.”

Misty pulled her hand away and slowly turned to glare at Morgan. Her eyes were dark with accusation and anger. “Did you ..?”

Shrugging, he said, “You didn’t exactly leave me a lot of choice.”

Her gasp was so loud she sounded as if someone had pinched her. She drew back her arm and slugged him in the stomach, gasped again, then shook her hand and glared at him. “How dare you!”

He tried to rub the sting out of her hand, but she held it protectively away from him. Morgan frowned at that. “You wouldn’t listen,” he said by way of explanation. He was more than a little aware of their rapt audience, but saw no way around it. Damn it, she was Honey’s sister, and she’d been preparing to slip off without a job, without money….

He’d never heard a woman growl so ferociously before. Everyone was frozen, silent. Misty looked as if she might hit him again, then thought better of it. Her expression was angry but resolute. “Fine. I’m calling a cab. He can take me to the bus station.”

Morgan glared at her. “Don’t push me, Malone.”

“You’ve done all the pushing, you—you…!”

“Bastard?” he supplied helpfully.

She growled again. “Fix my car!”

“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Sawyer, ever the diplomat, cleared his throat. “Uh, Morgan…”

Still matching Misty glare for glare, Morgan shook his head. “She can’t leave, Sawyer, all right?”

“Why?”

Gabe spoke. “If she’s that set on going—”

“I’d prefer she stay, too,” Jordan added, “but—”

Morgan closed his eyes, trying to think of some way around the problems. Nothing too promising presented itself. When he met Misty’s gaze this time, he knew she could read his purpose.

“Don’t you do it, Morgan,” she warned.

He touched her cheek and gave her a small, regretful smile. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Then he turned to everyone else and announced, “I don’t want her to go, because she’s pregnant.”

The reaction wasn’t quite what he’d expected. Honey’s mouth fell open, Gabe and Jordan both became mute, Casey’s neck turned red, and Sawyer leaned on the counter with a sigh, holding tight to his share of the sheet.

Misty went ahead and hit him again. He took hold of her hands before she hurt herself. This time she didn’t pull away, but chose instead to stare at him with evil intent. He supposed she’d rather look at him than face everyone else. If he could have thought of a way to spare her, he would have.

Then Morgan realized no one was looking at Misty. They were all staring at him—with accusation. It was almost too funny for words.

“I’m not the father,” he said dryly. “Hell, I’ve only known her a couple of weeks, if you’ll recall.”

Sawyer coughed. “That’s actually quite long enough.”

“In this case, it wasn’t!”

Everyone relaxed visibly. Honey said to Morgan, “Well, of course she can’t leave, you’re right about that. Hang on to her until I get back, okay?” Then she took off like a shot, dragging Sawyer along with her, given that they shared the sheet and he didn’t want to be left bare-assed.

Gabe sat down at the table and relaxed, at his leisure. “All this excitement has made me hungry. Jordan, if you’re fixing breakfast, make some for me, too.”

Jordan nodded and began pulling out pans. “Might as well skip the bagels and go for pancakes. Casey, Misty? Either of you hungry?”

Casey glanced at Misty, then pulled out his chair. “I’m always hungry. You know that.”

Misty’s eyes were wide, as if she’d been prepared for an entirely different response to his statement, maybe something more dramatic than an offer of breakfast. Did she think he and his brothers were ogres? Morgan almost smiled at her. Had she expected to be stoned? To receive a good dose of condemnation? He chucked her chin, then said gently, “Didn’t I tell you it’d be all right?”

Misty didn’t bother answering. She looked like she’d turned to stone. Morgan held her gaze, trying to think of some way to smooth things over with her. “I don’t suppose you’ll believe me when I tell you that wasn’t intentional?”

Her eyes darkened to navy and her lips firmed.

“Okay, the car part was,” he admitted, just to rile her. He couldn’t bear seeing her look so lost. “And I admit I got Jordan and Gabe and Casey out of bed.”

She mumbled under her breath, no doubt something insulting, but he just pretended he hadn’t heard her. “I swear, I had no idea our newlyweds would be up. And I didn’t plan to let the cat out of the bag about your pregnancy, either.”

Her expression remained murderous.

Leaning close, crowding her against the cabinets so his brothers couldn’t see her or hear him, Morgan whispered, “I have no intention of sharing your other secrets, so you can rest easy on that score, okay?” They were so close, her scent filled him with every breath he took. He braced his hands beside her hips on the counter; she braced her hands on his chest. She didn’t quite push him away, and he saw her lips part. It amazed him the effect they had on each other. Even when she was likely thinking of ways to bring him low, she still responded to him. When they did finally come together—and he was certain it would happen sooner or later—he could only imagine how explosive it would be.

His heart thundered. “Misty?” She slowly looked up and met his gaze. “There’s no reason for anyone to know about the rest unless you want to tell them, okay?”

Misty shivered, but before she could answer Honey came whipping into the room in her robe and skidded to a halt when she saw Morgan’s nose practically in Misty’s ear. “Hey, now, none of that. Get away from her, Morgan. I want to talk to my sister without you trying to intimidate either of us.”

Morgan slowly straightened, wondering what Misty was thinking, if she’d believed him. “I’ve never intimidated you, Honey.”

“Not for lack of trying.” She caught Misty’s arm and pulled her aside.

Morgan lifted the suitcase. “I’ll just take this back to her room.”

Misty shook her head to refuse him, while Honey gave him her sweetest smile. “Thank you, Morgan. Misty and I will be in the family room, talking.”

“I’ll call you when breakfast is ready,” Jordan said, and Misty seemed unaware of the concern in his tone.

After the sisters left, Morgan felt both his brothers watching him. He turned to glare at them. “What?”

“Not a thing.”

“Didn’t say a word.”

Casey made a show of studying a bird outside the kitchen window.

“Damn irritants,” Morgan muttered. He lifted the suitcase and carried it out of the room. He knew his brothers each had at least a dozen questions, wondering what he was doing mixed up in the middle of Misty Malone’s affairs, and why he was the only one privy to her startling news. But he wasn’t about to betray her trust any more than he already had. They could just go on wondering.

When Morgan got to the room Misty had been using, he found the bed neatly made and everything very tidy. He pictured her sleeping in that bed last night, or rather, not sleeping. Just worrying. He’d told her she should leave, and this morning she’d been crying.

His stomach cramped and he idly rubbed his hand over it, but the ache continued. He could easily imagine what she’d been thinking, how she’d felt—how he’d made her feel—and he hated it. She probably hadn’t slept at all last night, worrying about what she’d do, worrying about finding a job and about the baby.

A baby, a little person that would look like Misty, with dark hair and big blue eyes…He smiled at the thought, then caught himself and scowled.

What kind of job could a woman with a record get? He didn’t know the terms of her probation—he’d have to ask her about that—but he knew it wouldn’t sit well with an employer, especially not when she’d supposedly stolen from the last guy who’d hired her. Would she be able to earn enough to take care of herself and a baby?

She was certainly stubborn enough to make it work somehow, but she had a hard road ahead of her. And that route wasn’t even necessary.

Morgan considered things for a moment, then came to some decisions. He opened her suitcase, emptied it on the bed, took the case to his room and shoved it under his bed. If she wanted to try sneaking out again, he wouldn’t make it easy for her. At least until he knew she had a decent plan. Then, he told himself, he’d let her go.

He also intended to do a little investigating. Getting the details of the theft wouldn’t be hard, and then he’d make his own conclusions.

He felt like a warlord, holding her against her will, but damn it, it was only stubborn pride that had her wanting to leave in the first place. That and his big mouth. He had the feeling if he hadn’t asked her about leaving, if he hadn’t pushed her, she’d have stayed on for a while, using the time to make new plans. She had a lot to deal with, and until he’d started harassing her, she’d probably seen this as an ideal situation, a place to regroup and be with her sister without anyone knowing what had happened.

Except that she’d told him everything. He took immense satisfaction in that small success, discarding the fact that he’d bullied the information out of her. Misty wouldn’t have told him if she hadn’t trusted him at least a little.

He remembered stories of her father that Honey had shared. That man wasn’t one to coddle or offer comfort, so Morgan had no doubt she hadn’t even tried going to him for help. According to Honey, neither of them was overly close to the man, and with good reason.

Everything would work out, he was certain of it.

On his way to the kitchen Morgan passed the family room and was brought up short by a disgruntled, “He hates me.”

Morgan stalled, his heart jumping, his muscles pulled tight. He waited, eavesdropping like a maiden aunt to hear what Honey would say in reply.

Her soft voice was soothing, just as Morgan had known it would be. “Morgan doesn’t hate you, Misty. He kept you here because that’s just how they all are. They’re a little on the gallant side, and Morgan wants to protect you.”

There was a rough, disbelieving laugh. “Right. If you say so.”

Morgan could tell she didn’t believe her sister and he pulled his hands into fists. Even his toes cramped. Hate her? Hell, no. What he felt was as far from hatred as it could get, and a whole lot steamier than that cold emotion. He wanted to devour her, to make love to her for a week so he could get her out of his system.

He hated the effect she had on him, but he didn’t hate her.

“I do say so,” Honey insisted. “I know them all better than you do.”

“It doesn’t matter what Morgan thinks or how he feels about me, Honey. The point is, I didn’t mean to intrude on you. The last thing you need right now is to start worrying about me.”

“There, you see? I won’t worry as long as you’re around so I can see you’re doing okay. Morgan probably knew that, too.”

Morgan lifted his brows. Sounded good enough to him, though thoughts of Honey hadn’t much entered into his mind while he was trying to think of ways to keep Misty around.

“But…” Misty floundered, then insisted, “I need to get back to work. I can’t just stay here indefinitely.”

Morgan hustled through the doorway before Misty could convince Honey that she should leave. He surveyed both women cozied up on the couch, and Misty’s eyes widened in alarm.

There was no way for him to reassure her right now, so he didn’t bother trying. He’d already given her his word that he wouldn’t tell about her stint with the law. It wouldn’t hurt her to trust him just a bit.

He got right to the point. “I heard you mention your job.”

“Morgan.” Her tone said she’d kill him if he said one more word.

The threat didn’t worry him. After all, the woman had hurt her hand just smacking him in the stomach. And she had shared her secrets with him, which he chose to see as a sign of trust whether she realized it or not. “I have a solution.”

Misty moaned again. He noticed she’d been doing a lot of that lately.

Undaunted, he held up his hands and pronounced, “You’re going to come to work for me.”

MISTY STARED at Morgan, wondering what he was up to now. Somehow, in the short time it had taken her to shower, he’d done something to her car so it wouldn’t start, shaved so that he looked refreshed and ready to take on the day instead of looking like a dark savage, and he’d pulled on more clothes.

She was eternally grateful for the clothes part.

Even when he made her so mad she wanted to club him on top of his handsome head, she couldn’t seem to ignore him. The man filled up the space around her with his size, his scent, his pushy presence. When he was there, he was really there, and she doubted any sane woman would be oblivious to him, especially not when he was flaunting his bare, muscled chest.

Morgan had the type of body that had always secretly appealed to her. He was tall and powerful and immeasurably strong—but he could be so gentle.

She shook her head. Just because he distracted her didn’t mean she’d let him off the hook. What she’d most wanted not to happen he’d made sure had happened. Never mind that she was now in the situation she’d originally wanted, with a safe place to stay, close to her sister.

How the circumstance had come about was totally unfair—and all Morgan’s fault. Honey deserved some carefree time, but now she’d worry endlessly. Honey had a horrible tendency to mother her, a habit she’d gotten into because their mother had died long ago and their father was so cold and undemonstrative. Though Honey was only slightly older, she’d taken the big-sister role to heart.

She’d have told Honey the whole story eventually, of course, because they didn’t keep secrets from each other. But not now, not when Honey had just gotten married and found so much happiness. It wasn’t fair to drop such a burden in her lap.

She should have choked Morgan instead of punching him in his rock-hard middle, she thought, surveying his dark frown. But judging by his thick neck, that wouldn’t have done him much damage, either. The man was built like a pile of bricks and was just as immovable.

And now he’d offered her a job. Or more precisely, he’d demanded she take a job. With him.

He hadn’t precisely told Honey that Misty didn’t have a job anymore. No, he’d made it sound as if he was only offering her an alternative so she could stick around. Did that mean he’d been sincere when he’d promised not to tell anyone about the rest of her troubles? God, she hoped so. It was all too humiliating, and though she knew Honey would believe her innocent, she had no idea how the others would feel.

Being pregnant was one thing; she wanted the baby and couldn’t really regret its existence. And the brothers had been very accepting about the whole thing—almost cavalier, in fact. But surely they wouldn’t want a jailbird in their home. She felt sick at the idea of them finding out.

“I already have a job,” she stated forcefully, when Honey gave her a nudge for sitting there and staring.

Morgan lifted one brow and proceeded to settle himself into the stuffed chair adjacent to the couch. Contrary to how Misty felt, he looked at his ease and without a care in the world. His dark blue eyes were direct, unflinching.

“Now Malone,” he said easily, “you were just telling me that you hate that job, that you planned to look for something else. Why not look here, so you can be close to your…family?”

“I never—” Misty bit her lip, stopping her automatic protest in mid-sentence. How could she dispute his enormous lie without telling the actual truth? He’d cornered her, and he knew it.

After clearing her throat, she smiled sweetly. It always worked for Honey. “I never meant to imply you should give me a job.”

Morgan waved his hand in dismissal. Apparently the big ape was immune to her smile. “Of course you didn’t. I know that. You’d never hint around that way. You’re much too…up-front and honest for that.” His eyes glittered at her and he added, “But I want you to take the job.”

She glanced at Honey, saw no help there and resolutely shook her head. “No.”

“How can you refuse when you don’t even know what the job is yet?”

Through set teeth, she growled, “What is the job?”

Morgan actually smiled, which put her even more on edge. “I need an assistant. Someone to act as sort of a secretary and a dispatcher, when necessary. No, don’t look like that. You won’t need special training. Buckhorn is a small county and we do things just a bit differently. You’d need to take calls, keep track of where I am and forward on the important ones, but make notes for the ones that can wait. Mostly just for mornings and afternoons. Your evenings will be free, and just think, you can spend more time with Honey.”

Honey leaned forward in her seat, already excited by the prospect. “Morgan, that’s a great idea!” To Misty, she said, “It only makes sense, Misty, for you to be with family now. This is no time to let your pride get in the way.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Morgan agreed.

Honey sighed. “Didn’t I tell you he was wonderful?”

Misty almost choked, especially when she glanced at Morgan and saw his amusement. She thought she might throw up again. She drew a deep breath and tried to sound reasonable. “I don’t know anything about working for a sheriff…”

“I’ll tell you everything you need to know, sweetheart.”

There was only so much she could take and remain composed. “I am not,” she said in lethal tones, “your sweetheart.”

Honey patted her hand. “They all use endearments, so you might as well get used to it. I swear, at first I thought they knew my name before I’d even given it to them. Then I realized everything female is a sweetheart or a honey to these guys, even the hodgepodge of animals Jordan keeps around.” Honey gave Morgan a fond smile. “They’re very old-fashioned in a lot of ways.”

Under her breath, Misty muttered, “You mean they’re overbearing, macho, autocratic—”

“What’s that, Malone? I couldn’t quite hear you.” Morgan looked ready to laugh.

“Not a thing.” She stood, and both Honey and Morgan came to their feet, too, as if they thought she might topple over at any moment. Good grief, she wasn’t even showing yet. “I’ll think about the job, Morgan.”

He gave her a slow nod, looking at her from his superior height in a way that made her feel downright tiny. “That’s fine. But make it quick, okay? I need you to start tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened. She didn’t want to start tomorrow! She didn’t want to start at all. If anything, she hoped to make some solid plans tomorrow that would appease everyone so she could be on her way. “But…”

“Will you, Misty? Please?” Honey hugged her close, and Misty had no choice but to return the embrace. Since meeting Sawyer, her sister was deliriously happy and she wanted everyone else to feel the same. Over Honey’s shoulder, Misty glared at Morgan. He winked at her, the obnoxious brute.

Misty pushed her sister away slightly and drummed up a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you go have breakfast with that new husband of yours? I want to discuss this…job, with Morgan.”

“But you haven’t even told me about the baby yet, or how far along you are, or anything!”

Misty thought about moaning again, but with Morgan watching her so closely, she held it in. To her surprise, he took Honey’s arm and said, “One thing at a time, hon, okay? If she takes the job and sticks around, you’ll have all the time in the world to chat.”

It was obvious Honey didn’t want to, but she finally agreed to leave. She gave Morgan a warning look on her way out that had Morgan chuckling in a deep rumble.

Misty saw nothing funny in the situation, but he didn’t give her a chance to light into him. No sooner was Honey gone from the room than he walked to her and said, “I told you I won’t say a word about the job or the conviction. You have my word on that.”

It was as if he’d deliberately taken away her steam. But Misty had more than one grievance and she was nowhere near ready to give up her anger. “Why should I believe you?”

His hesitation was plain before he lifted a hand and smoothed her cheek. He was so gentle, so warm, she couldn’t get her feet to step out of his reach. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Malone. You must know that.”

She managed a rude laugh. “You couldn’t hurt me.”

Her disdainful tone never fazed him. His mouth tilted in a wry, regretful smile. “I think you’re wrong about that. I think you’ve been through a hell of a lot and you’re vulnerable right now.”

Because he was right, she felt twice as determined to deny it. “Don’t get all mushy on me, Morgan. My stomach can’t take it.”

He lifted his other hand so that he framed her face. “You’re so tough, aren’t you, Malone? Ready to take on the world all alone. I admire that kind of courage, you know.”

“So my insults aren’t having the desired effect, huh? You must have a thicker skull than I figured.”

Morgan whistled. “You really are ticked, aren’t you?”

“Ticked? I’m a whole lot more than ticked. What you did was reprehensible.”

“What I did,” he said, his thumbs gently smoothing her cheeks, “was try to keep you here since I was the one who had run you off.”

Misty blinked at him. He felt guilty? Is that what this was all about? Caught between disbelief and annoyance, she struggled with her fading anger. She really hadn’t wanted to go, but neither had she wanted her personal business sallied about for the entire family to hear. Facing them again was going to be incredibly tough. She already knew there’d be dozens of questions, most importantly about the absent father.

As if he’d read her mind, Morgan made a tsking sound. “Come on, Malone, stop beating yourself up. There’s no reason to be embarrassed, you know. My brothers won’t judge you. If anything, they’ll rightfully blame the guy who got you pregnant and then walked away. Like Honey said, we’re old-fashioned about things like that. A guy should take responsibility for his actions.”

She appreciated the sentiment, if not the interference. “Yeah, well, this guy didn’t. And believe me, things are better with him out of the picture.”

Morgan laughed. “I’m not disputing that. If he was around, I’d be tempted to beat him into the ground.”

“Really?” That wasn’t an altogether unpleasant thought. She’d felt the same many times after the way Kent had reacted to her news.

Morgan nodded, then said gruffly, “He hurt you. The least he deserves is a good beating.”

Misty was speechless. Morgan had sounded almost like he cared, like he didn’t despise her, after all. She said facetiously, “How…sweet of you.”

Morgan’s look was stern. “Look, Malone. The last thing you’d want is to be married to a loser.”

“The last thing I want is to be married, period.” Misty stared at his chest and muttered, “I’ve had my fill of dealing with men, thank you very much.”

“I think you’ve just been dealing with the wrong men.”

“Such an obvious truth.” She looked at him pointedly.

He let her implication pass without comment, then leaned down until his forehead touched hers. She could feel his warm breath on her lips, his body heat seeping into her, his gentleness flowing over her. She sighed.

“It’s also obvious,” he said very softly, “that Honey loves you to death. Nothing will change that.”

Oh, how could he make her feel like this when she was rightfully angry? “I know my sister loves me, Morgan. But telling her wasn’t your decision to make.”

“Maybe, but it was the right decision. You were just being stubborn, admit it.”

“No, never.”

He laughed. “At least this way you’re with family, and I’m talking about all of us. We are family now, Malone, whether you like it or not. You don’t have a job, you don’t even have a place to stay.”

Alarmed, she finally managed to dodge his soothing hands and move out of reach. She tried for a credible laugh, but it sounded more like a weak snicker. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s no good, Malone. I know you too well.”

“You hardly know me at all!”

“But we’re getting there.” Then in a softer tone, “Just where the hell did you think you were going to go?”

The best she could come up with was a shrug.

“That’s what I figured. So why not stay here?”

Misty felt like screaming in frustration. “For crying out loud, Morgan, you told me to leave!”

He shook his head. “Damn it, that was before.”

“Oh, I see. A pregnant woman isn’t so risky. You’re no longer worried that I’ll seduce your brothers? After all, I thought that was your overriding concern.”

Morgan leaned against the wall by the fireplace and crossed his arms over his chest. Misty recognized that stance and the accompanying expression all too well.

“No, my overriding concern was the chemistry between us. And your pregnancy doesn’t change that much. You’re still too damn sexy, and only a dead man wouldn’t be tempted.”

She wished she hadn’t brought it up. “That’s ridiculous.”

He very slowly shook his head. “It’s true. You have to know how gorgeous you are, how you make a man feel. But I have an idea on how to handle that.”

The words, along with the way he’d looked at her as he spoke, made her skin flush and her belly tingle.

She didn’t want to be attracted to him! He was arrogant and stubborn, but he was also very dedicated to his family, protective and so incredibly good-looking she imagined women had been chasing him for most of his life.

She mustered up a bored look to hide her reaction to him and asked, “So what’s it going to be? Bundle me up in burlap? Paint a big red A on my forehead to ward off the innocent? What?”

“Nothing so drastic as that.” He paused for a long moment, as if measuring his words, then he met her gaze and his eyes were hard…determined. “I’ll just tell everyone that we’re involved, so you’re off-limits.”

“What?”

He smiled at her reaction. “Believe me, Malone, that’ll be enough to keep all other men away, which is what you wanted, right?”

MORGAN WAITED until Misty looked at him, then snagged her gaze and refused to let her look away. There was a soft blush to her cheeks that about drove him crazy. He had a gut feeling that blush was a combination of anger, embarrassment and excitement.

He understood the anger and wished for some way to spare her the embarrassment. The excitement he relished.

“It’s a good plan, Malone.”

“For me to pretend to…to be your…” Her stammering ceased, and she stared at him blankly.

“My woman. Yeah, that’s the plan.” He wanted to walk closer to her, to touch her again, but he didn’t dare. She looked skittish enough to jump out of her skin if he even breathed deeply. “Here’s how I see it,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. “You do need a job, but it won’t be easy to find one without employers knowing you were convicted of stealing from the last place you worked. And once they know that, they’ll be reluctant to hire you, right?”

“Maybe.”

“And you’re still on probation?”

She nodded hesitantly. “For a few more months.”

“That’s what I figured.”

She gulped, and her hands fisted. In shame? In regret? He just didn’t know, but he hated to see her feel either emotion. He intended to do what he could about her conviction as soon as possible. But for now, he had other things to contend with. “The job I’m offering gives county wages, which aren’t great but neither are they piddling. And the fact you worked for a sheriff’s office will have to look good on your résumé, and to your probation officer.”

She didn’t appear quite convinced. She stared at her feet in deep concentration.

A niggling sense of panic seeped in. Misty had been very clear about her feelings on involvement of any kind. The only way Morgan could see around that was to wrangle his way into her life. Keeping her here, hiring her on, showing her she could trust him and rely on him was part of a great plan. He’d just have to make damn sure it worked. “As I said, it’s not a hard job—”

Her head shot up and she glared at him. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”

“I didn’t mean that.” Sometimes Morgan wished he was as good at soothing frazzled nerves as his brother Jordan. Jordan could talk the orneriness out of a mule, whisper a baby bird to sleep. He was one hell of a vet, but his talents carried over to people, as well. Morgan, on the other hand, usually relied on rigid control to get his way. He managed things, taking on other people’s problems and resolving them so they didn’t have to worry. Most people appreciated that.

Only it didn’t work with Misty. She bucked him at every turn, refusing to accept what he was best at offering.

“All I meant,” he continued, “is that you could easily do the job. You don’t need any special training or skills. And by accepting it, you can stay here indefinitely, which rids you of the cost of room and board.”

She was already shaking her head before he’d finished. “I can’t just stay here free, Morgan.”

He straightened. “Why the hell not? You hadn’t been in a hurry to leave until I prodded you along.”

“That’s not entirely true.” She looked flabbergasted by his persistence, but he’d be damned if he’d back off. “Sure, I had hoped to hang out for a week or two more while I figured out what to do next, but then I’d have left. I never intended to stay here any longer than that.”

He scowled at her. Everything had changed the moment she’d dropped to her knees in front of those bushes. She should stay, which meant he no longer had to fight himself for wanting her to stick around.

She’d said she wasn’t as outgoing as she’d pretended. He wasn’t buying that for a single second. She might not be such a real flirt, only using that as a way to cover her worries. But she was brazen and outrageous and beautiful. She was also strong and proud, qualities he’d always admired in men and women alike. But for right now, he wished she wasn’t quite so proud.

“Honey wants you to stay.” That was the only argument he could think of that might convince her. Telling her he wanted her to stay didn’t seem to be such a great idea. She’d ask him why, and beyond telling her he wanted to ravish her senseless, he’d have no excuse. Even knowing she was pregnant by another man, now that she’d admitted she wouldn’t be marrying that man, hadn’t dampened his lust. In fact, he admired her courage, which seemed to add a keen edge to his feelings.

In a mumble totally unlike her usual decisive tone, Misty said, “My sister is new here. This is Sawyer’s house and—”

“Honey is new, but permanent. She can invite anyone here that she wants.” Misty had a lot to learn about them, first and foremost what family meant. When Honey became Sawyer’s wife, she became an equal member of that family.

Actually, Morgan thought, smiling a little inside, she’d been an accepted member of their family as soon as they’d all realized Sawyer loved her.

“But Sawyer might not care for—”

“Sawyer will love having you here. But truth is, the house belongs to all of us. My father built it back when he and my mother were married. When she and Gabe’s father retired, they decided to move to Florida, and we took over the upkeep of the house. Since grown men need some privacy, Gabe converted the basement into an apartment, and Jordan did the same with the rooms over the garage.”

She looked him over as if trying to figure him out. “But you still live in the house.”

“Yeah.” He could see the questions in her eyes and grinned. “I don’t, however, bring women here for overnight, if that’s what you’re asking. Casey is almost sixteen now, and he thinks he’s all grown up, but I still wouldn’t flaunt lovers in front of him. I remember being sixteen. Guys that age don’t need any help in the raging hormone department.”

She looked startled for a moment, then frowned. “Being raised in a house full of males must be ideal for a boy his age.”

Morgan shrugged. “We’ve done the best we could. But I know Casey loves the idea of having Honey around. Just as he’ll love the idea of you sticking close, too.”

“I don’t know, Morgan. I mean, the others…”

“It won’t be a problem. The only problem would be if I let you get away.”

She still didn’t look convinced, then she harked back to what he’d said earlier. “Gabe is your half brother?”

Morgan grinned, suddenly knowing how he’d reassure her. “Come here, Malone. I have a nice long tale to tell you.”

She snorted at that, but she did go ahead and seat herself—in a chair so he couldn’t sit beside her. He chose the couch, and realized they’d switched positions from earlier. He couldn’t remember ever grinning so much, but damn, she amused him with her constant advance and retreat. She was a mix of bravado and prudence, and he realized it was a potent combination, guaranteed to drive any man crazy.

“My father died when I was just a baby.” Her eyes widened and he laughed. “I know. Tough to imagine me as a squalling infant, huh?”

“The squalling part I can believe, but the idea of you ever being little boggles the mind. You’re just so—” her gaze skimmed his chest, his shoulders, then down to his thighs “—massive now.”

Because he had her attention, Morgan settled back and stretched out his long legs, then laced his fingers together on his stomach. Misty swallowed and slowly closed her eyes, so she didn’t see his grin. “I was still little when my mom remarried and had Jordan. But things didn’t work out and she divorced him.”

Her eyes snapped open. Looking more fascinated by the moment, Misty said, “After she had Gabe, you mean?”

“Nope.” He laughed outright at her confusion. “My father died in the war. He was my mother’s first real love, and she had a hard time getting over him. Then she met Jordan’s father. She was lonely and she had two sons to raise. She thought she loved him and married again. But not long after that he lost his job and started to drink. Things went from bad to worse. It wasn’t easy for her to work a job, care for three kids and put up with the small-town stigma of being a divorced widow with three sons.”

“I don’t imagine it would be.” Misty picked at a thread on her shorts, then admitted, “Even in this day and age, being a single mother has its problems. Not to mention being a mother of three. She must have a lot of courage.”

He said softly, “You have your own share of courage, sweetheart. Deciding to have the baby shows a lot of guts and determination.”

She changed the subject, or rather got it back on track. “Do you remember much of Jordan’s father?”

“Not really. I was only two when she married him, and I’ve never heard my mother complain much about those times. All she says is that he gave her Jordan, so she doesn’t regret a moment of it. But I’ve lived here my whole life and lots of people talk, mostly about how strong she was and how she’d gone off men completely after losing one and divorcing another.” He watched her closely. “I guess sort of like you claiming you don’t want anything to do with men now. A woman gets hurt like that, and it’s hard to ever trust again.”

He stared at her until she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

“I’m not hurt, Morgan. I keep telling you that. I’m just a little wiser, is all. My priorities right now are a job and security for the baby. I don’t need a man for that.”

But he wasn’t just any man, and he damn well wanted her to realize it. He went on with his story as if he hadn’t been sidetracked. “You know what I do remember? Sitting with her in the evening and reading books, coloring pictures or sometimes making cookies. She worked damn hard, but she was never too tired to talk with us or to give us hell if she caught us fighting.”

Misty gave him a pointed look. “Us, meaning you most likely. Somehow I don’t see the others getting into as much mischief as you likely did.”

Morgan shrugged. “True. I’ve always been a bit of a hell-raiser—something Mom claims I inherited from my father’s side of the family, though I’ve seen her riled a few times so I’m not buying it. As to the others, Sawyer’s always been serious and a bona fide overachiever. There aren’t too many men I know who could have cared for a baby and finished up med school without missing a beat. Even with our help, he had his hands full, but he never complained.”

Misty sighed. “Sawyer is the exception. Most men would run from that kind of responsibility.”

For some reason that observation irritated Morgan beyond all reason. “You haven’t known enough good men to make that judgment.”

Her laugh was a little sad. “That’s true enough, I suppose.” Then she smiled at him, a real smile that affected him like a stroke in just the right place. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re all so close. My father isn’t that way at all. If it wasn’t for Honey…”

“I know. She’s told me a lot about him, and about how close you both are because of it.” Morgan wished she’d open up a little with him, but her smile was gone and she now had that closed look on her face that he recognized all too well. He said carefully, “Being that you are so close, aren’t you just a bit pleased by the idea of having her nearby?”

She ignored his question to ask one of her own. “So what about Gabe? I gather he wasn’t found under a rock?”

“Sometimes I wonder. But my mother is still married to Brett Kasper, and he’s Gabe’s father.”

She studied him closely. “You all look different, but I never realized…. I mean, well, you and Sawyer do have similar looks, except that you’re an imposing hulk and he’s not.”

“Gee thanks.”

She waved that away. “You have the same dark hair, and there’s something about the shape of your jaws. Stubborn, you know?”

“I’ve heard that, yes.”

“But now Gabe, with that blond hair and those incredible electric blue eyes—”

“Malone,” he said in warning.

“And Jordan has brown hair and green eyes and his voice is so—” she shivered “—seductive.”

“You’re pushing me again, Malone.”

Misty started laughing, and Morgan realized she’d been deliberately baiting him. He smiled with her. “Do I need to start worrying about my brothers’ virtue again?”

“Ha! None of you have any virtue left, and you know it.”

“Not true. Virtue and chastity are not the same thing at all.”

She chuckled again, shaking her head in feigned disbelief. Whether she realized it yet or not, she liked him, and she’d like being with him. Morgan spoke his thoughts aloud without even thinking about it. “Hearing you laugh is much nicer than hearing you cry.”

Just like that, she stiffened up on him. Color darkened her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed. “If you hadn’t been sneaking around this morning, you wouldn’t have been subjected to hearing me cry.”

Embarrassing her hadn’t been his intent. He lowered his voice to a soothing growl. “I wasn’t complaining, Malone, except that I don’t like seeing you unhappy.”

She sat forward, her brows lifted in mock surprise. “Oh, I see. That’s why you announced to everyone that I’m pregnant, because you thought it would somehow make me happy?”

“No. But I knew going off on your own wouldn’t make you happy, either. If anything, it would’ve made you more miserable.”

“I am not miserable.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I stand corrected. And before you run away in a huff, do you want me to tell you the happy ending to my mother’s story?”

“With your idea of happy, I’m not at all sure.”

In a persuasive tone, he suggested, “Try trusting me just a little, Malone.”

“No, never.”

She was determined not to give an inch, and it frustrated him beyond measure. “You’re awfully fond of that particular saying.”

“Only when I’m around you.”

He gave a drawn-out sigh at her stubbornness, then went on. “It took a long time, and Brett Kasper had to work real hard to get around my mother’s resolve after losing one man and divorcing another, but he finally won her over. You never saw a more dedicated man than Brett. When my mom gave him the cold shoulder, he cozied up to us boys instead. Mom didn’t stand a chance.”

“You mean he manipulated events like you’re trying to do with me?”

“Whatever works, Malone.” When she growled, he gave her a small smile. His mother had supposedly been as against involvement as Misty, but she’d gotten turned around by the right man. He liked to think the same could be true of Misty. “I’ll have you know, they’ve been married for some time now. You’d have met them at the wedding except Brett had a few health problems and couldn’t travel, and my mom wouldn’t leave him. He’s okay now, nothing serious, but the doc still wants him to rest and Sawyer seconded that, so they missed the wedding. As soon as they can, though, they’ll come for a visit.”

“She sounds…incredible.”

“She’s as stubborn as a pit bull when you get her nettled, which luckily doesn’t happen often. But for the most part, she’s a woman who likes to laugh and isn’t afraid to show how much she cares. She’s going to love Honey. She’s been waiting for one of us to give her a daughter by marriage. I think she’s hoping for lots of granddaughters, too.” He grinned. “She says I was such a trial, she’s ready for something easier—like girls.”

“I can believe that!”

Morgan leaned forward and caught her hand. “Do you see the point, Malone? You aren’t the first person to make a mistake, but in time, you’ll forget your reservations about men.”

She started to speak, but he cut her off, already knowing what she would say. Her insistence that she wanted nothing to do with men was almost more than he could take. “So what do you say we join the others?”

She closed her eyes and groaned. “I don’t know. The thought of facing your brothers again is enough to make my stomach jumpy.”

Morgan considered that, then shrugged. “So don’t face them. At least, not for long, and not today. Tell me you’ll take the job, then we can go into town and get things set up for you. It’s a good excuse and you can have a few hours to get used to the idea before sitting down with them all at dinner tonight. I can show you around town, and all in all, we can waste most of the day.”

She bit her lip while scrutinizing him. “You don’t have anything else you need to do?”

“Nope. Sunday is my day off. If anything comes up, someone will call, otherwise I’m free.”

She still hesitated. “I don’t know. It seems pretty fishy to me that this job just suddenly came available.”

He still held her hand, and now he smoothed her knuckles with his thumb, marveling at how such a stubborn and defensive woman could feel so soft and delicate. He could just imagine those small hands on his body, and it made him crazy. He cleared his throat. “The job was always there, only I didn’t want to hire anyone for it.”

“Why?”

“Too many women were applying just to get close to me.” She laughed hilariously and he waited, pretending to be affronted. When she finally quieted, he cocked a brow. “It’s true. I’m considered something of a catch, only I’d rather do the catching for myself.”

“That’s right. You said you’re looking for a wife.”

Her bald statement gave him pause. She didn’t seem particularly bothered by the idea. “Not actively,” he muttered, “just giving it some thought.” The idea of a wife wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with Misty, especially since he’d all but forgotten that plan since meeting her. She kept him far too preoccupied for rational contemplation of the future. “And the last thing I need while I’m trying to work is a woman who’s set on seducing me.”

“I suppose if she breathes, you’d consider it a come-on?”

“Ah, you have no faith in me, Malone. I told you, the effect you have is totally unique. Contrary to your dirty little mind, I don’t run around jumping every woman in the area. Hell, I have to live here, and I’m the sheriff—a respected position, you know. I have to set an example.” He squeezed her hand. “Unfortunately I can’t seem to remember that around you.”

His honesty had her pink-cheeked again. He loved how she blushed, how her eyes turned bluer and her lips pressed together in a prim line. She was bold, and she gave as good as she got, but any talk of intimacy flustered her.

Damn, but he wanted to kiss her silly.

“If all that’s true, Morgan,” she fairly sputtered, “if I really affect you like that, why in the world would you want me around the office?”

“Because it solves a dilemma for both of us.” He used his in-command tone, the one that made people sit up and take notice of his official position as sheriff. “You need a job, and I need a worker who won’t be jumping my bones, interfering with my schedule and causing a scandal. You’ve made it pretty clear you plan to resist my bones, so…” He didn’t admit his hope that her resistance wouldn’t last long. “It’s an ideal trade-off.”

She considered that for a long moment, then finally nodded. “Okay. I can try the job, I suppose. On one condition.”

The restriction in his chest immediately lightened, though he hadn’t even noticed how tight it felt until she said she’d stay. “Let’s hear it.”

“I want you to fix my car. I will not be left here without transportation.”

She stared at him defiantly until he nodded. “I can do that, but I have a condition of my own.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

He tugged her slightly closer, holding her gaze. “I want your promise that if you decide to leave, you’ll tell me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t keep me here against my will, Morgan.”

“I’m all too aware of that unfortunate fact. And I won’t even try. But if you decide to leave I want to know it.”

“I wasn’t really sneaking this time—”

“Malone.”

“Oh, all right. I promise. But fix my car today.”

He nodded. “And my other suggestion?”

“What other suggestion?”

He looked at her mouth, so sweetly lush and very kissable, then at her full breasts pressing against the pale yellow camisole—just as kissable. He saw how she tucked her long slender legs beneath her, how smooth her thighs were, lightly tanned. Even her shoulders were sexy, making his tongue nearly stick to the roof of his mouth. “I’ll stake a claim for all to see, and that’ll keep interested males at bay.”

Dark lashes swept down over her eyes to avoid his gaze. She subtly tugged her hand away from his and stood. “I don’t know, Morgan.”

He got up and stood very close behind her. “We will be involved, Malone, in an arrangement.” She stiffened and he caught her shoulders before she could move away. “The type of arrangement is nobody’s business but our own. I’m not coercing you into bed.”

“As if you could.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No!”

He smiled at her anxious tone. “We’ll be partners of a sort. You said you were through with men.”

“Completely.”

“Well, pretending to be mine ought to take care of other men hitting on you, and I’ll have some much needed help at the office.”

She shook her head while he stared at her nape, exposed by her upswept hair. He imagined kissing her there, watching her tremble. He couldn’t push her now or she’d walk out the door, and she was right, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop her.

“That attitude is archaic, Morgan.”

His newfound possessive streak was archaic, but he was dealing with it. Barely.

He rubbed her shoulders, relishing the warmth of her skin. His thumbs brushed the back of her neck to the base of her skull, lulling her, soothing her. “Look at it this way, Malone,” he added in a whisper, “all your problems will be temporarily solved. And if you think this would be hard on you, just think of what it’ll do to me.”

“What?”

She sounded intrigued, and he hid his smile. “I want you, so you can figure it out, I’m sure. Given that you seem to take sadistic delight in making me miserable, the idea ought to appeal to you.”

The torment would be worthwhile, he thought. He could spend a good deal of his time shoring up their ruse by getting closer to her. He knew, even if she didn’t, that they’d eventually end up in bed. The chemistry between them was just too strong, no matter how hard she tried to deny it.

And he was tired of even trying.

With a wide, impish smile, she turned to face him. “Well, since you put it that way…” She patted his chest. “Making you miserable does hold a certain attraction.”

He caught her hand and flattened it against his body. “So you agree?”

“You’ve convinced me.”

Morgan stared at her, his heart thumping so heavily in his chest he thought for sure she’d felt it. He leaned toward her and saw her eyes widen. “Why don’t we seal it with a kiss?”

MISTY BRACED HERSELF for a sensual assault. The memory of his last kiss in the gazebo was still fresh in her mind. But instead of being overwhelmed, she felt Morgan’s mouth, warm and dry, brush very lightly over her own. She opened her eyes slowly and looked at him. His dark blue eyes were filled with heat, but also with tenderness, and she almost melted.

For a man of his size, he could sometimes be so remarkably gentle. She gave him a slight smile that he returned.

“Am I interrupting?”

They both jumped apart, she in guilty surprise, Morgan with a curse. He turned to face Jordan, leaning in the doorway with a contented smile.

Jordan tipped his head. “Breakfast is getting cold.”

“Did you ever hear of knocking?”

“What fun would that be?”

Morgan turned his back on his brother and faced Misty. His wide shoulders completely blocked her from Jordan’s view. Using the edge of his hand, he tipped up her chin, then asked, “What’s it to be, Malone? Breakfast with the family, or do you want to go into town?”

“I’m not really hungry.” She saw Morgan’s understanding and quickly added, “I’m not being a coward. I really just don’t have an appetite. I’ll go in with you, though. No reason you should do without food, and I have to face them all sooner or later. It might as well be now.”

“Get it over and out of the way, huh?”

His frown was back, but she had no idea why. “Something like that.”

He glanced at Jordan over his shoulder. “We’ll be right there.”

Accepting the dismissal, Jordan chuckled and ambled off. The moment he was gone, Morgan framed her face and kissed her again. Before she could say much about it, if indeed she could have gathered her scattered wits to offer a protest, he took her hand and hustled her from the room.

Everyone was in the kitchen when they strolled in, still hand in hand. Like the audience at a Ping-Pong match, all eyes moved in unison to their entwined hands, to their faces, then to each other. Brows climbed high.

Morgan shook his head. “The lot of you remind me of monkeys in a zoo—not you, Honey. The masculine lot.”

Honey frowned. “Is everything okay, Misty?”

“Everything is fine.” She tried subtly to take her hand from Morgan, but he wasn’t letting go, and shaking him off might bring on more speculation. She knew he intended to announce their involvement, but did he mean to do it right now? At this rate, no announcement would be necessary!

There was no way she could continue to stand there and let everyone stare at her with concern. She had to get hold of herself and the situation. She glanced at Sawyer, then Jordan and Gabe. “Morgan insists it’ll be all right if I stay here for a little while longer—”

“Absolutely.”

“Of course!”

“You know you’re welcome here.”

Misty smiled at their combined assurance and even felt a little teary over it. “That’s very generous of all of you.”

Sawyer, with his arm draped over the back of Honey’s chair, said, “You’re family now, Misty. Family is always welcome for as long as they want to be here. Remember that, okay?”

Honey squeezed him in a tight hug. “Didn’t I tell you they were all incredible?”

Gabe laughed. “Nothing incredible about welcoming beautiful women into your home.” He eyed their clasped hands and added, “In fact, if you want some privacy, Misty, I have extra room in the basement.” He bobbed his eyebrows at her.

Jordan looked mildly affronted. “I was going to offer to share my apartment with her. With Morgan always looming over her, it’s for certain she won’t get any peace and quiet around here.”

Casey, looking like an imp, turned to the side to face his uncles and said, “Hey, if you guys have extra room, I’ll move in with you.”

Sawyer reached over and clapped his laughing son on the back. “They’ll both strangle you for that, Case.” Then to Morgan: “Stop letting them bait you. You look ready to do bodily harm, and then what will Misty think of you?”

“She’ll think I’m possessive.”

“And you have the right to be?”

“Damn right.” Morgan released her hand and put his arm around her, hauling her up so close she felt her ribs protesting. “We’ve come to an agreement.”

She gave Honey a helpless look, but Honey just rolled her eyes, as if she’d expected nothing less from Morgan.

In between bites of pancake, Gabe asked, “Is the baby’s father aware of this agreement, or is he likely to show up here any time soon, demanding to know what’s going on?”

Jordan scoffed. “If he has any sense, he’ll show up. I know I would. ‘Course, I wouldn’t have let her get away in the first place.” Then he eyed Morgan, and added, “Not that it’s likely to do him any good if he does come here.”

Misty had never felt so overwhelmed in her life. Not only did they seem to accept her pregnancy without hesitation or condemnation, but they also championed her and complimented her and apparently welcomed her involvement with their brother. There were no prying questions.

She was totally speechless.

Morgan was not. “He’s out of the picture, and I say good riddance. But if he does ever show his face here, believe me, I’d love to have a minute or two alone with him.”

“He doesn’t know where I am,” Misty pointed out.

Morgan gave her a level look. “Perhaps you could tell him.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Honey shook her finger at Morgan. “You’re always looking for a reason to pound on somebody.”

“Sometimes you don’t have to look for a reason.”

Honey turned to Misty. “Don’t pay any attention to his threats. It’s like a dog growling, all for show. He’s actually very sweet.”

A round of masculine grunts disputed Honey’s description. Obviously nobody else thought Morgan to be sweet.

“He is!” Honey protested. “At least, once you get to know him better—” She stopped and laughed. “But I guess you know him well enough already, huh?”

Morgan paid them no mind. “I think I do a pretty good job of not pounding on people most of the time, which is why I was elected sheriff.” He grinned. “Total control of my temper.”

“As I remember it,” Jordan said, “it was your ability to take control of everyone else that gave the townsfolk assurance you could handle just about any situation.”

“I don’t seem to have control over your mouth, brother.”

“No.” Jordan chuckled. “But then, I’ve been fighting with you all of my life and lived to tell about it.”

“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Gabe asked. “What’s this agreement you two have? I’m dying of curiosity.”

Misty held her breath, uncertain as to what Morgan might come up with by way of explanation. None of them seemed particularly surprised that they were supposedly involved, which to her was no less than amazing. All they’d done since they first met was antagonize each other. Or at least that’s all any of his family had seen. If anything, they should have believed that they despised each other. But of course, his brothers knew Morgan better than she did, and maybe grousing and growling was part of his normal temperament.

Heaven knew, he seemed to wear a perpetual frown when he wasn’t laughing with her or trying to kiss her. She glanced at him and saw that indeed, his brows were pulled down and his expression was dark. It irritated her. She moved away from his side and gave him a look to let him know that if he spelled out their agreement completely, there’d be hell to pay.

To her surprise, he laughed, then kissed her loudly, right there in front of everyone. “Quit scowling, Malone. You’re going to get wrinkles.”

“Yeah. Or worse, you’ll start looking so forbidding, we’ll confuse you with Morgan.” Gabe ducked when Morgan reached for him, then laughed as he resettled himself in his seat and went back to work on his pancakes.

“Misty is going to help me out around the station.”

Sawyer sat back in his seat. “I thought you didn’t want to hire a woman because she might get ideas.”

“In this case, it’s a moot point. The ideas are mutual.” He looked at each brother in turn. “Any objections?”

Jordan lifted his glass of milk and said mildly, “With the two of you competing for the darkest frown, who would dare?”

Casey stood and took his empty plate and glass to the dishwasher. “I think it’s great. So can I be excused? I want to go into town today.”

Sawyer glanced at his son. “A date?”

“Sorta.”

Morgan snagged Casey and roughed up his hair. “You’re taking after your uncle, boy.”

With a twinkle in his eyes, Casey asked, “Oh, yeah? Which one?”

Gabe held out his arms. “If she’s gorgeous, then obviously me!”

Honey reached over and slapped Gabe’s arm. “Thanks a lot!”

The moment Misty had dreaded seemed to have come and gone without much notice. She was a tad bemused at that.

“No offense, Honey,” Gabe said after blowing her a kiss, “but you’re married into the family now so I can’t make lecherous jokes about you.”

Still holding Casey in a way that made Misty wistful over the easy familiarity, Morgan said, “We can give you a ride. Misty and I are going into town ourselves.”

Misty, a little surprised that he’d even suggest it, thought she’d have a slight reprieve from Morgan’s isolated attentions until Casey shook his head. “Thanks, but I’d rather ride Windstorm. Jordan said she needs the exercise and I was planning on cutting across the field.”

Morgan explained to Misty, “Windstorm is a new horse. Jordan brought her home not too long ago.”

“I’m meeting up with friends, then we’re all going to the lake for a little while.”

“Anybody I know?” Morgan asked.

Casey struggled to hide his grin. “Just some girls, mostly.”

Sawyer took one look at his son’s innocent expression and groaned. “Lord, he is like Gabe.”

At that, Casey laughed. “We’re just going to swim. We won’t get into any trouble.”

Gabe sent mock glares around the room. “I didn’t always get into trouble, you know.”

“Just often enough,” Jordan said with a raised brow, “to keep everyone on their toes.”

Sawyer raised a hand. But before he could interject anything into the conversation, Honey stood and took Casey’s arm.

“Never mind your overbearing, interfering uncles.” She slanted her gaze toward Gabe. “You’re nothing like them, except for the good looks, of course. Go and have a good time, but be careful, okay?”

Casey lifted her off her feet in a bear hug. “I’ll be home by three o’clock.”

“That’s fine.” And once he left the room, she glowered at Sawyer. “Quit comparing him to your disreputable brothers. You’ll put ideas in his head.”

“Would you all quit talking about me like I was the scourge of the area? Disreputable, indeed.”

Honey pointed at Gabe. “And proud of it, from what I can tell.”

To Misty’s surprise, Sawyer didn’t look at all put out by Honey’s audacity toward his son. Instead, he grinned. “You’re turning into a rather ferocious mother hen.”

“Oh, no,” Misty said, “she’s always been that way. Even when she was just a little girl.”

There was a round of laughing comments on that, all teasing Honey until she blushed.

Morgan pulled up a chair next to Misty and propped his head on his fist to stare at her. “You look a little numb, sweetheart. You okay?”

She shook her head, watching Sawyer nuzzle on Honey, then Jordan and Gabe roughhousing. She didn’t know what to think. “The way you all carry on, it amazes me, and now here I am right in the middle of it.”

Honey’s lips curled into a big smile. She said to the brothers, “It takes some getting used to, since we were from such a small family. And all our meals were very formal. No one gathered in the kitchen just to chat, and there was never this much joking around.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Misty said, not wanting them to misunderstand. “It’s…nice.”

“Of course it is.” Honey cuddled against Sawyer’s side, and he kissed her ear. “You know, you can’t get around it, so now I just chime in, too. You’ll get used to it.”

Misty hadn’t planned on being around long enough to get used to them. But now she was having fun. It had been a while since she’d felt the honest urge to laugh.

Morgan nudged her. “You want some pancakes or do you still want to head straight to town?”

Misty thought about it. Most of her anxiety was gone, and her stomach was starting to rumble. There was still a platter of lightly browned pancakes sitting in the middle of the table, with warmed syrup and soft butter beside it.

She grinned at Morgan, feeling more at ease than she had in ages. “Let’s eat.”

IT WAS ALMOST an hour before they finally left the house. Though she’d never have imagined it, she’d enjoyed breakfast immensely. No one said too much about her pregnancy other than to try to force an extra pancake on her along with a tall glass of milk. And no one pressured her for information on the father of the baby. They seemed to simply accept that she was there, unmarried, and that they wanted her to stay.

True to his word, Morgan played the part of an interested party, holding her arm, opening the door for her. But then she thought about how all the brothers did the same, for both her and Honey, and she realized Morgan likely wasn’t playing at all. He was flat out mannerly, no way around it, and she had to admit she rather liked it.

“Are you sure I don’t need to change clothes?” She wore her camisole and cut-offs, but Morgan had insisted she looked fine. The way he’d stared at her, though, giving her such a slow, thorough perusal, made her uncertain. She wore what most women wore on such hot days, but they were going to his office, and she’d likely meet a few townspeople.

“You look sexy as sin, which makes me nuts wanting to take you, but I can handle it. When you actually work tomorrow, you’ll need to wear something more…conservative. Maybe jeans and a plain blouse or something. And definitely a bra. I won’t get any work done if I know you’re not wearing a bra.”

Morgan took three more steps before he finally realized she’d stopped. He turned to face her, hands on his hips in an arrogant pose. He lifted one brow. “What’s the problem now, Malone?”

As if he truly didn’t know. Amazing. Even more amazing was that she felt equal parts furious and aroused. After all the condemnation she’d received from men of late, his open admiration was a balm, whether she admitted to liking it or not.

It was unnerving that of all the men she’d ever known, this particular man could make her feel such depths of excitement at such a rotten time. She didn’t want to want him. She didn’t want to want any man, but definitely not one who was so bold and…potent. There’d be no way to control Morgan Hudson, or to control her own erratic heartbeat in his presence.

“If this is going to work,” she said, carefully enunciating each word, hoping to hide her trembling, “you have to stop being so…outspoken.”

“Getting to you, is it?”

He blocked the sun with his big body, leaving long shadows to dance around her. “Annoying me, actually.”

His slow smile was provoking. He strolled over to stand directly in front of her. “Is that why you’re all flushed?” he asked. His gaze dropped to her chest and he groaned. Misty looked down, and she wasn’t surprised to see that her nipples were pressed hard against the soft material of her camisole. She ached all over, and she couldn’t stop her body from reacting.

Desperate, she turned to leave, and Morgan gently clasped her shoulders, halting her. They stood silent, motionless, for several heartbeats and then he sighed. “Give me a break here, Malone. I’m doing my best.”

His best to seduce her? His best was actually pretty darn good. She turned slowly to face him and stared him in the eye, refusing to let him intimidate her.

Morgan hesitated, then ran a hand over his face in frustration. He ended with a rough laugh, taking her off guard. “You want the truth?”

“No!”

“I’m not used to women pushing me away.”

“Oh, please.” But she could easily believe it. Morgan had an incredible body, sensual eyes and a devastating smile that he generally hid behind a frown. She imagined any woman he looked at was more than willing to look back—and more.

“I’ve never known such a contrary woman,” he muttered. “You want me, but you keep saying no. You make me crazy, Malone.”

He looked so endearing, as if he were baring his soul, she had to fight to keep from smiling at him. She huffed instead. “You were crazy long before I stepped into the picture.”

“Nope. I was in control, one hundred percent. Now I’m walking around with a semierection.”

She gave a groan of frustration. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Morgan. Your…masculine discomfort is of no concern to me.”

“Well, it should be since you’re the cause.” She would have groaned again, but Morgan added, almost to himself, “You’ve shot all my well laid plans to hell.”

Misty sputtered, both hurt and insulted. It was the hurt that made her sarcastic, because she knew exactly what plans he referred to. “Please, don’t let me get in your way! I’ll even help in the wife hunt if you want.” He looked surprised, then disgruntled.

“No.” He leaned over her. “I don’t need your help.”

“Why not? Tell me what qualities you’re looking for and I’ll keep my eyes open.”

Morgan leaned closer, then lifted her chin with the edge of his fist. “Right now, I don’t want a wife. I want you. And if you were honest, you’d admit you want me, too.”

She met his gaze just as intently, determined to make him understand before she broke down and proved him right. “Sorry, Morgan, but I’ve sworn off men.”

His hand opened, cradling her face. “That’s the hell of it, Malone. You’re not giving me a chance.” His gaze touched on her everywhere—her eyes, her lips, her breasts. His thumb moved softly over her bottom lip. “It could be perfect, sweetheart. I’d make sure of it.”

Misty wondered if she looked in the dictionary for the word temptation if it would feature a picture of Morgan Hudson. She could feel herself shaking inside, could feel her nerve endings all coming alive at his sensual promise—a promise she felt sure he could keep. The man was as seductive and searing as the bold stroke of a warm hand.

Wanting to give him equal honesty, she wrapped her hand around his wrist and shared a melancholy smile. “I have no doubt you…know what you’re doing, Morgan. But I already feel a little used. I don’t relish feeling that way again.”

His fingers slid over her head to the back of her neck, cupping her warmly. “Oh, babe.” His fingers caressed, kindled. His sigh was warm, his words soft. “I would never hurt you.”

When she started to speak, he hushed her. “No, don’t give me all your arguments. You’ll make me morose.”

She laughed at that. Morgan was so brutally honest, so different from the other men she knew. He didn’t try to whitewash what he wanted, which was sex. He made it clear he intended to find a wife soon and that she didn’t fit the role—a fact she knew only too well. He kept her aware of what he thought about things, and while she did consider him far too forward and pushy, it was nice not to have to guess about ulterior motives and hidden agendas.

Compared to Kent, a man who’d sworn undying love then dropped her the moment he found out she was pregnant, Morgan’s honesty was refreshing. It was still alarming, but she’d trust it over insincere promises any day.

He released her, then rubbed the back of his neck. “You should know I’m not going to quit trying. I figure sooner or later I’ll wear you down and you’ll admit you want me.”

“Why don’t you try holding your breath?”

He wagged a finger at her. “Play nice, Malone.”

“But you’re the one who told me I could make you miserable, right? That’s why I agreed to this farce in the first place.”

She grinned at him, which made him laugh and shake his head. “Witch.”

Misty wasn’t offended. Somehow he’d made the name sound like an endearment.

He took her hand and started them on the way again. “Speaking of this farce…I should also point out that the job has nothing to do with your continued rejection.” He glanced at her. “I’m not going to fire you if you keep saying no. I won’t like it, and I’ll do my damnedest to change your mind, but the job is yours as long as you’re fulfilling it.”

“No blackmail, huh?”

“No. I just wanted to make sure we understood each other.”

For some reason, she’d never once doubted that. The way Morgan interacted with his family, treating Casey almost like a son, Honey like a sister, she knew he was too honorable to try forcing her hand. And he’d already proven that night in the gazebo that all it took was a soft, simple no to make him back off. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was only afraid of herself when she was with him.

She was still pondering that when Morgan opened the garage door and she got a good look at the official car he expected her to ride in.

She backed up two steps. Granted it wasn’t a typical law enforcement vehicle, but it had the lights on the roof and the word Sheriff emblazoned on the side in yellow and blue. Memories flooded back, and she winced.

To stall, she asked Morgan, “What type of sheriff are you?”

He looked up, saw her expression, then glanced at the shiny black four-wheel-drive Bronco. “Just a regular run-of-the-mill county sheriff, why? You don’t like my transportation?” He wore a devilish grin.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” She walked around the truck, looking at it from all angles. “I thought officials drove sedans, not sport utility vehicles.”

“It’s for off-road driving, but there’s no sport to it. There’re a lot of hills in these parts. And though we don’t have much in the way of big crime, just about anything that happens involves those damn hills. Last fall, a little girl got lost and we spent two days on foot looking for her. A four-wheel-drive would have made all the difference on some of the off-road searches. After that, the townsfolk got together and donated the Bronco.”

Misty felt a little sick as she asked, “The child?”

“I found her curled up real tight under an outcropping of rock.” His hands curled into fists and his jaw locked. “Her father had given up looking and was back at the station, drinking coffee and letting people dote on him.”

He sounded thoroughly disgusted, not that Misty blamed him.

“Sawyer had rounded up about fifty people and we’d been at it all day and through the night. When I found her late the following afternoon, she was terrified, cold and crying for her daddy.”

Misty put her hand on his arm, aware of the bunched muscles and his tension. Knowing Morgan as well as she did now, she could imagine how difficult that would have been for him, trying to console a child, hurting when that wasn’t possible. “Her father should have been with you.”

“He was a damn fool, visiting these parts and camping out when he didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing. The weather was too cold for it and he didn’t exactly pick the best spot to pitch his tent. The little girl wandered off because he wasn’t watching her close enough.”

“But she was all right?”

“Other than being a little dehydrated and scared silly, she did great. Cutest little thing you’d ever seen. About five years old.” His eyes met hers, diamond bright, and he added, “I know if it had been my kid, I wouldn’t have quit looking until I found her.”

“I think,” Misty said, studying his intent expression, “you wouldn’t have let her out of your sight in the first place.”

Morgan kissed her nose. “No, I wouldn’t have.”

Misty wondered if he’d slept at all during those two days, and seriously doubted that he had. She gave him a tremulous smile. The man was proving to be entirely too easy to like.

Morgan stared at her mouth, groaned, then pulled the door of the Bronco open. “Let’s go, Malone, before I forget my good intentions.”

She clasped a hand to her heart. “You have good intentions? Toward me? I had no idea.”

Suddenly his eyes narrowed. “Why are you stalling? What’s up?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She eyed the truck again, then with a distinct feeling of dread, hefted herself into the seat. Morgan gave her a long look before he slammed the door.

When he climbed in on his own side, he said, “You wanna tell me about it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She stared with feigned fascination at the control panel, the radio. Behind her was a sturdy wire-mesh screen separating the cargo area from the front seat—for prisoners, she knew. Unable to help herself, she shuddered.

Morgan started the engine, then reached for her hand. “When you were arrested, they cuffed you?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” She tried to pull away, but he held her hand tight and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. He did that a lot, grabbing hold of her and not letting her go. This time she appreciated the touch. She curled her fingers around his.

“I imagine you were,” he said, speaking about the arrest in a matter-of-fact way. “It’s pretty much policy these days, for safety reasons.”

She chewed her lip, then slowly closed her eyes, giving up. “It was the most degrading moment of my entire life. It was bad enough when Mr. Collins accused me of stealing the money, and I couldn’t believe it when he actually called the cops.”

“Mr. Collins?”

“My boss at Vision Videos. I kept thinking somehow things would get straightened out, that they’d realize there’d been a mistake.”

“They didn’t find the money on you?”

“No, because I didn’t have it.” She glared at him, then asked, “You think I’m guilty, don’t you?”

Morgan was silent as they pulled onto the main road. He drove with one hand, still holding onto her with the other. Finally he muttered, “To be honest, I have serious doubts.”

“Really?”

He glanced at her. “But if you did do it, I’d understand, okay?”

There was that damn honesty again; he wasn’t convinced of her innocence, but he’d allow for the possibility. She almost laughed. For a man who wanted to get intimate with a woman, he wasn’t going about it in the usual way—with lies and deceptions that would soften her up. “Even the lawyer I hired didn’t believe me, not really.”

“The evidence must have been pretty strong.”

“Yeah, the fact that I’m a pregnant, supposedly desperate female was proof positive that I’d steal from a man I’d worked with for two years, even though I’d never been in trouble before in my life.”

“Your boss knew you were pregnant?”

“Morning sickness kind of gives you away. That and the fact that I suddenly had more nights free.” Misty was only vaguely aware of the beautiful scenery as they drove down the long road. The sun was bright, the day hot, but the air-conditioning in the truck had her feeling chilly.

Or maybe it was the dredging of memories that made her feel so cold inside. “I wasn’t dating Kent anymore, and I knew that with the baby coming I needed to save up more money, so I’d offered to work more overtime.” She slanted Morgan a look. “That made me seem guilty, too, by the way. My boss said small amounts of money had been missing several nights in a row, which was the first I’d heard of it, but he claimed that was why he’d come in unexpectedly to check on me that day, and found the money missing.”

“When exactly did this all take place?”

She told him the exact day she’d been arrested.

Morgan surprised her by lifting her hand to his mouth and then turning it to gently kiss her palm. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable riding with me.”

Misty held her breath as his mouth moved against the sensitive skin of her palm. That, added to the gentle way he had of speaking to her sometimes, left her feeling vaguely empty and jumpy inside.

She swallowed hard. “After everything I’ve been through, it’s silly to let a little ride get to me. But you just can’t imagine what it was like. There were tons of people gathered outside the video store when I was arrested. They led me out in handcuffs and I just wanted to die. I thought I’d be glad to get in the car, where people couldn’t see me, but instead, it seemed we hit every red light and folks in the other cars would stare.”

Morgan slowed for a deer that ran across the road, distracting Misty for the moment. He spoke quietly, holding her hand on his thigh. “Sweetheart, people are always going to stare at you, no matter what, because you’re beautiful. That’s something you just ought to get used to.”

Laughing helped to wash away the melancholy. “You may find this hard to believe, Morgan, but no one has ever carried on so much about my looks. Honey was the one the guys were always after. Men prefer blondes, you know.”

“Sawyer certainly does.” He turned to give her a lazy grin. “But I’m not Sawyer.”

“You’ve got me there.”

“You know what I prefer?”

She started whistling, which only made him chuckle. “I prefer dark-haired women with long sexy legs and incredible…”

“Morgan—” she warned.

“—smiles.” He laughed at her expression. “Such a dirty mind you have, Malone. What did you think I was going to say?”

She reached over and smacked him for that, then couldn’t help laughing again. “I figure I’m only slightly better than average looking—and I’m giving you the slightly better based on all this praise you’ve heaped on me lately.”

He didn’t look at her, just made a sound of disagreement. “You can ask any man and he’ll tell you the same. Hell, just hearing you talk makes me hard, even when I don’t like what we’re talking about.”

Of course she looked, then immediately jerked her gaze away. “If you don’t stop being so shameless—” She sighed, unable to think of a threat that might carry any impact. It annoyed her that he’d once again gotten her to stare at him in a totally inappropriate way.

“You’ll what? No, don’t answer that. And for your information, I can’t seem to help it.”

She tugged her hand free, tucking it close so he couldn’t retrieve it. “Keep your lips to yourself. That might be good for starters.”

“Malone, I swear, one of these days you’re going to take back those words.”

She laughed again. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And a distraction?”

She blinked, realizing that he had, indeed, distracted her. She nodded, giving him his due, but felt it necessary to point out the obvious. “My ride then was a little different. I was in the back, handcuffed, and the officers were in uniform—and armed.”

Morgan grinned at her. “The county insists the Bronco is partly for my personal use, sort of a perk, so you’re not the first woman to be seen in it.”

“Did I ask for that information?”

“I just wanted you to know that if anyone stares this time, it’ll be with a different kind of curiosity. And I do wear a uniform when I’m on duty, which I’m not right now. As to being armed, it’s a habit.” He made that statement, then shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Misty turned slightly in her seat to face him. “You carry a gun around with you?”

“All the time.”

Once again she looked him over, then cocked an eyebrow. “Must be a good hiding place.”

“Want to search me, Malone?”

Yes, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m waiting.”

“You’re no fun at all, but we’ll work on that.” He leaned down and lifted the hem of his jeans. “Ankle strap. I wear a belt holster when I’m on duty.”

She’d seen him in uniform, and the sight had been impressive indeed. He looked nothing like Andy Griffith, that was for sure. When Morgan got decked out in his official clothes, he looked like a female fantasy on the loose. His shirt fit his broad shoulders to perfection, and his slacks emphasized his long, strong legs. The holster around his waist gave an added touch of danger to his dark good looks.

She imagined the females of Buckhorn County would continue to elect him sheriff just to get to see him in uniform each day.

Not that he didn’t look great today in his jeans and soft T-shirt.

Misty eyed the small handgun in a leather holster. It was attached to an ankle cuff with a velcro strap. Despite herself, she was fascinated. “Do the good citizens of Buckhorn know about that gun?”

“You kidding? They insist on me holding up my image. Why, if they thought I wasn’t armed, they’d be outraged. They each consider me their own personal sheriff, you know.”

“Especially the women?” Ouch. She hadn’t meant to say that.

Morgan gave her a knowing look, but thankfully didn’t tease her. “Men and women alike, actually. Half my job is spent letting them bend my ear and reassuring them that the corruption of outside communities hasn’t infiltrated yet.”

“If corruption hasn’t infiltrated, then why do they want you to carry a gun?”

He shrugged a massive shoulder. “I told you. Image.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “And I have had occasion to use it now and then.”

He had her undivided attention. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope. Being that we’re a small town, a few of the more disreputable sorts thought it’d be the ideal hideout. To date, I’ve apprehended an escaped convict, caught a man wanted for robbery, and another for kidnapping.”

Her eyes were wide. “Did you…shoot anyone?”

His hands tightened on the wheel. “The kidnapper, in the knee. The son of a bitch held a gun to a woman. He’s lucky that’s all I did to him.”

Misty fell back in her seat, amazed. “I never would have imagined.” Morgan seemed dangerous in many ways, and he certainly held his own when it came to taking charge of any situation. But she’d never imagined him being involved in a possibly lethal situation. He could have been killed! “This is incredible.”

Again, he shrugged.

“What would the good citizens think if they knew you were consorting with a known criminal?”

“You?”

“Do you know any others?”

“Sure.” He didn’t allow her to question that. He gave her a speculative look, then suggested, “You could get your name cleared, you know.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible.” She bit her lip. “Once something is on your permanent record…”

“I could get it taken care of. It’s a lot of legal jumble, and I can explain it later, but if you really didn’t take the money…”

Misty felt her heart beating faster. “I didn’t take the money.” She waited for his reaction, her breath held. She wanted Morgan to believe her. It had suddenly become important to her, and not just because he wanted to help.

Seconds ticked by, and then he nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He said nothing else, and that, she supposed, was that.

They reached the center of town, which was really no more than a narrow street full of buildings. Misty hadn’t paid much attention to it when she’d been at the hall for Honey’s wedding. She’d still been too nervous about Morgan and too excited for her sister. But now she had the chance to take it all in, and she wasn’t going to miss a single thing.

There were two grocery stores at opposite ends of the street, a clothing store that looked as if it had been there for over a hundred years, a diner and a hairdresser, a pharmacy…She eyed the pharmacy as they drove past, wondering how awkward it might be to get her prenatal vitamin prescription filled; she’d run out of them yesterday.

One thing she didn’t see was a bus station, and she wondered just where the nearest one was. After her comment earlier that she’d take a bus home, she felt rather foolish to realize there wasn’t a bus around. You’d think one of the brothers could have mentioned that fact to her.

There were people sitting outside their shops, others lounging against the wall or standing close chatting. There were even some rocking chairs sitting under canopied overhangs, to invite loiterers.

“This is like going back in time,” she murmured as they drove to the end of the street then turned right onto a narrower side street. There were a few houses, a farm with some cattle moving around, and a funeral parlor, which was easily the biggest, most ornate structure she’d seen so far. Then Morgan pulled into the circular drive of a building that looked like an old farmhouse. It was two stories with a grand wraparound porch, white columns in the front and black shutters at every window.

“Why are we stopping here?”

“This is my office, darlin’.” He chuckled at her as he drove right up close to the front door and stopped. The double doors wore a professional sign that read: Enter at Right. Evidently that didn’t apply to the sheriff.

Morgan parked and turned off the engine. “The station used to be by the county courthouse, farther into town, but it was too small so years ago, long before I was elected, they moved it here. Makes for a bit of whimsy doesn’t it?”

Morgan climbed out, and at that moment two men came around from the side of the house to greet him. “Hey there, Morgan! Didn’t expect to see you today. Anything wrong?”

Morgan frowned, as if surprised to see them. “Nope, no problems. I was just showing the lady around.” He opened Misty’s door and handed her out of the vehicle. Close to her ear, he said, “Two of the biggest gossips around. They weren’t supposed to be here today, but that never stopped them before. And since they’re here, we might as well take advantage of it.”

Misty leaned away to look at him. “I don’t understand.”

“Anything they see makes the rounds of Buckhorn faster than light. This’ll be a good place to start letting folks know you’re off-limits.”

Misty froze just as her feet touched the ground. Surely, Morgan didn’t mean to do anything in front of these nice old men! But then she met his hot gaze and knew that was exactly what he intended.

She started to shake her head but he was already nodding. And darned if he wasn’t smiling again.

ALL IT TOOK, Morgan thought as he watched Misty’s eyes darken and her lips part, was a nice long look from him. She could deny it all she wanted, but her hunger was almost as bad as his own. When he felt it, she felt it, and right now was proof positive.

Well aware of Howard and Jesse closing in behind him, their curiosity caught, he leaned down and kissed her. It was a simple soft touch. He brushed his mouth over hers, once, twice. She drew a small shuddering breath, and her eyes slowly drifted shut, but she didn’t stop him. No, she’d raise hell with him after, he had no doubt of that, but for now, she was as warm and needy as he. Her small hand fisted in his shirt, trying to drag him closer, proved it.

“Misty?” He whispered her name, watching the way her eyelashes fluttered.

“Hmm?”

His own smile took him by surprise. All his life people had teased him about his ferocious frowns, but something about Misty made him feel lighthearted, joyful deep inside. He touched the tip of her nose. “Sweetheart, we have an audience, or I’d sure do better than one measly peck, I promise.”

Her eyes flew open, then widened. She peeked around his shoulder cautiously, saw the two men, and her own version of a fierce frown appeared. Her fisted hand released his shirt, and she thumped him in the chest. “Of all the—”

Morgan grabbed her hand, threw one arm around her shoulders and turned, taking her with him to face Howard and Jesse. “I thought I told you two not to work on the weekend.”

“Nothing better to do today. We figured we’d get it done and out of the way.”

Morgan gave Jesse a good frown to show him what he thought of that, but he knew better than to start debating with him now. “So how’s the work going?”

Jesse nodded quickly, a habit he had when he was nervous, and being around women always made him nervous, especially the really pretty ones. “It’s getting there. I’ll have the lot of it cleared out by midweek.” Though he spoke to Morgan, his eyes didn’t leave Misty’s face.

Howard scratched his chin, watching Misty with acute interest. “It’s looking real good.”

Amused by their preoccupation, Morgan nudged Misty slightly forward and said, “This is Honey’s sister, Misty Malone. She’s here for an extended visit and she’ll be helping out around the station. Misty, this is Jesse and Howard.”

Both men did a double take at that announcement, but Morgan ignored their reactions, knowing why they looked so shocked. They’d obviously jumped to the wrong conclusion. He hid his grin and decided to explain things to them later.

Jesse tipped a nonexistent hat and muttered, “Nice to meet you.”

Howard stuck out his hand, realized it was covered with dirt and pulled it back before Misty could accept it. With an apologetic shrug, he explained, “I’ve been digging out the weeds. Messy work, that. Nice to meet you, Miss Malone.”

Misty smiled. “Call me Misty, please. What exactly are you doing back there?”

It was Jesse who answered. “There’s been a ton of weeds growing in the gully out back for as long as the sheriff’s been stationed here. It draws mosquitoes and gnats and it’s just plain ugly. Morgan wants us to clear them out and plant a line of bushes instead. We don’t have the bushes in yet, but we will soon.”

“I love outdoor work.” Misty stepped away from Morgan and headed to the side of the house to check their progress. “I used to work with my father’s gardeners when I was younger. It’s hot work, especially on a day like today. But I always preferred that to being cooped up inside.”

Morgan could just picture her as a little girl, hanging out with the hired help because her daddy ignored her and she had nothing better to do. It made his stomach cramp.

Howard nodded. “Know what you mean. Fresh air is good for you. I used to farm in my younger days. There’s nothing like it.”

She went around the corner of the house, Howard and Jesse trailing her like she was the Pied Piper. She kept chatting and they continued to hang on her every word.

Morgan was left alone with his disgruntled feelings. Odds were, he told himself, Misty had been as endearing as a wide-eyed child as she was now. The gardeners had probably loved having her underfoot. He shook his head. Gardeners, for crying out loud.

She made one simple statement about her youth and he got melancholy. It wasn’t to be borne.

He heard Jesse’s cackling laugh from way out back and frowned. They’d only just met her and she already had them mesmerized. He considered waiting until they came back, then changed his mind. He unlocked the front door, which only he and the deputy used, closed and locked it, then went through the converted house to the back. In what used to be the dining room, a space now housing all his file cabinets, he stared out the large picture window.

He could see Misty standing just outside the line of displaced weeds and dirt, her hands on her rounded hips as she conversed with the men. Her dark shiny hair glinted in the sunlight, and her bare shoulders and thighs appeared sleek. She looked over the still-packaged bushes while the two old codgers looked her over, eyeing the long expanse of her legs. Morgan felt like growling.

He knew he was in a hell of a predicament when two elders made him jealous. What had happened to his acclaimed control?

He went to the soda machine in the hallway outside his office and fed in quarters. Seconds later he stepped into the yard with four icy cold cans numbing his fingers. Jesse and Howard accepted theirs with relish, popping the tops and guzzling the cola. Though he’d told the old men time and again to bring a cooler with drinks, they never remembered to do it.

Misty was more restrained, using the edge of her shorts to clean the top of the can then opening it cautiously and sipping. It was so hot and humid outside that the little wisps of her hair escaping her topknot had begun to curl around her face.

She squinted against the sun, wrinkling her small nose, and smiled at him. “The bushes will look great once they’re in. It’ll make the yard looked bigger, too, without the tall weeds breaking up the length.”

Morgan nodded, content just to look at her and drink his soda and enjoy the feel of the sunshine.

He loved the old farmhouse—and had since the moment he’d been elected and moved his things into the desk. He forced his gaze away from her and surveyed the back porch. “She’s a grand old lady, isn’t she?”

“She’s beautiful.” Misty, too, looked at the porch with the turned rails and ornate trim. “You don’t see that kind of detail very often any more.”

“It’s solid.” Morgan finished off his cola, then crushed the can in his fist. “This house is partly what inspired me to build my own home. I was forever doing improvements to the station and finally decided I needed my own place to work on. But even with my house almost complete, I still love it here.”

“Somehow, I think it suits you. Especially because you’re in charge.”

“It does,” he agreed, ignoring her teasing tone. “You want to see inside where you’ll be working?”

“Sure.” She turned to the men and smiled. “Howard, Jesse, it was nice meeting you.”

They each nodded, ridiculous smiles on their faces. Morgan could only shake his head in wonder. Was no man immune? As they walked through the back door, he saw her smile and raised a brow in question.

“They’re very sweet.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “Uh-huh. You go right on wearing those rose-colored glasses, sweetheart.”

She gasped at him in disapproval. “You’re such a cynic. They’re very nice men who are working hard for you. I’d think you’d appreciate that a little.”

Morgan led her into his office, which had once been the dining room. It had a large white stone fireplace, now filled with lush ferns instead of burning logs. He’d had the arched doorway framed and fitted so he could close the door for privacy. He’d never needed or wanted that privacy more than now.

He propped his shoulders against the mantel. “Jesse was picked up for fighting two weekends ago. He broke two pool sticks and several lights after a man accused him of cheating at a game. Jesse wouldn’t cheat, but he does have a terrible temper.”

Misty stared at him in blank surprise.

“Now Howard, he’s cooler than that. You won’t catch him causing a brawl.”

“You’re dying to tell me, so spit it out.” She mimicked his stance, leaning against the opposite wall.

Grinning, Morgan said, “He slipped into the theater without paying—five times in a row. He loves the movies, but says the prices have gotten too high. Arnold kept kicking him out and Howard kept creeping back in. No one would have known, but during the last movie, he tried stealing a bite of popcorn from the woman sitting next to him.”

“And she complained over that?”

Morgan winked at her. “The woman was Marsha Werner, and he’d recently broken off a relationship with her and was, I imagine, trying to worm his way back into her good graces. She wasn’t impressed, so she raised a ruckus and I finally had to arrest him. But it was Marsha who came and bailed him out, so who knows what’s happening there?”

Misty tried to stifle a smile. “It’s a little hard to imagine him in a relationship.”

“That’s only because you haven’t met Marsha. Things soured between them when she wanted to get married, but they were a good couple, like the best grandma and grandpa you’d ever met.” Morgan watched her smile widen and added, “Marsha’s real fond of the movies, too, but as she continually explains to me in rather loud tones, she’s an upstanding citizen and she pays for her entertainment.”

Misty lost control of her twitching smile and laughed out loud. Morgan watched her, seeing the way the heat and humidity outside had made her shirt stick to her breasts. She’d smell all warm and womanly now if he could just get close enough to her to nuzzle her soft skin.

“So what kind of sentence did each of them get?”

He held her gaze and murmured, “Community work. That’s why they’re fixing the yard. I bought the bushes and they agreed to do the work. In addition, of course, Jesse had to promise to stay out of the pool hall for a month, and Howard had to pay for the movies he’d seen.”

“Ah. They considered that a terrible punishment?”

“Not the yard work, but the other, yeah. With any luck, it’ll make an impression this time. But I hate to see them in any real trouble. They’re both pushing seventy, and even though they get around well enough to get into mischief, they don’t mean any real harm. I think they’re just lonely and a little bored, more than anything else.”

She twisted her mouth in a near grimace, then asked, “When you arrested them…”

“No, I didn’t handcuff them,” he answered gently, able to read her train of thought. It hurt him to see her so hesitant, to know that her own memories ate at her. He’d fix things for her one way or another, he vowed. “I didn’t stick them in back of the Bronco, either. They both rode up front with me. That way, I could give them a stern talking-to during the ride. They hate that.”

Misty smiled at him for a nearly endless moment, then turned up her can of soda and finished it off. She set the can on his desk. “I’m impressed, Morgan.”

“With what?”

“Your compassion. And the fact that you obviously have a soft side, which you hide pretty well, by the way.”

He wasn’t at all sure he wanted her noticing his soft side, not that he had one, anyway. He frowned at the mere thought.

Misty gave a loud sigh. “Now what are you scowling about? I insult you and you laugh, I compliment you and you start glowering at me.”

Morgan didn’t move. She had an impish look about her that intrigued him. “Come closer and I’ll tell you why I’m frowning.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.”

“Afraid of me, Malone?”

She made a rude sound, refusing to be drawn in by his obvious challenge. “Not likely. You’re as big as an ox and built like a ton of bricks, but you don’t beat up on women.”

He made his own rude sound. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He lowered his voice to a suggestive rumble. “You’re afraid if you get too close, you won’t want to move away again. But this is my office and I don’t do hanky-panky here. At least, not any serious hanky-panky. So you’re safe enough.”

“And what constitutes the serious stuff?”

He looked at her breasts and felt his heartbeat accelerate. “Anything below the waist?”

She swallowed and he could see the thrumming pulse in her throat. “Howard and Jesse are right outside.”

“Not for much longer. I only let them work for a few hours a day, mostly in the morning because the afternoon heat is too much for them.”

“Then why have them doing that job at all?”

She was bound and determined to distract him, so Morgan let her. The last thing he wanted was for her to be wary of him. “Their pride is important to them, and to me. Already they’ve told anyone who’d listen that I’ve given them such a hard, impossible job, then they come here and have a great time futzing around, proving that they can do it. In fact, they complain about the short days I insist on, because Jesse used to be in construction and Howard was a farmer. They say they’re used to the heat, but—” He realized he was rambling and ground to a halt.

“You’re pretty wonderful sometimes, Sheriff, you know that?”

He unfolded his arms, letting them hang at his sides. In a rough whisper, he said again, “Come here.”

She took one step toward him, then halted. “This is crazy.”

Morgan nodded in agreement. Crazy didn’t even begin to describe the way she made him feel.

She looked undecided and he held his breath, but she turned away. She pretended an interest in the office. Her voice shook when she started talking again. “This is your desk?”

She picked up a framed school picture of Casey and studied it.

“You know it is. My office is the biggest room. The cells are in the basement, though they seldom get used—and yes, I’ll take you on a tour in a bit. The kitchen has been rearranged into a lobby of sorts, and there’s always coffee there for anyone who wants it. The family room faces the kitchen through open doorways across the hall, and that’ll be where you work. There’s a lot of office equipment in there. I’ll have my deputy, Nate Brewer, show you where he keeps things and how to use the file system. The upstairs has been turned into conference rooms for different community events.”

He watched her inch closer to him to look at a plaque hanging on the wall. Not wanting to scare her off now that she was almost within reach, he said, “That’s my mission statement.”

“Mission statement?”

“My intent for holding office as sheriff. The community got to read it prior to the election.” He was thankful she didn’t read the whole thing. His patience was about run out and he just wanted to taste her.

“You had the plaque made?”

“Nope. The advisory board did.” He saw her start to ask and said, “They’re a group of citizens that bring concerns to me. Sort of a community awareness system.”

She leaned closer to the plaque. “It says here that you founded the advisory board during your first term in office.”

He shook his head. “I was the one who suggested a voice in the community, so they’d all feel more involved in decisions. But they’re the ones who organized the board and set up the structure for it. Now they have these big elections to decide who gets to serve in the various advisory board positions.”

She moved closer still, examining a trophy on the mantel beside him. Morgan tried to block it with his shoulders, but she inched around him until she could see it clearly. “What’s this for?”

Feeling uncomfortable with her inquisition, Morgan cleared his throat. “That was given to me by the student council at the high school.”

“It says, outstanding community leadership.”

“I know what it says, Malone.” He glared, but she glared right back, and he gave up with a sigh. “I started a program where the students can interact with the elders in the community, helping out with chores and such. I’d hoped to give the kids some direction and the elders some company, that’s all. But now participation is recognized by the governor for qualifications to state scholarships.”

She looked at him. “That’s remarkable.”

Morgan shifted to face her, determined to satisfy her curiosity so he could get her mind on more pleasurable topics. “Naw. The students took it a lot further than I did, making it a hell of a program. That’s why I thought it deserved to be brought to the governor’s notice.”

She glanced at the writing on the base of the trophy. “It says here that you help supply scholarship funds, as well.”

Morgan rubbed his ear and bit back a curse. “Yeah, well, that’s just something I sort of thought would help….”

Misty reached up and took his hand, enfolding it in both of her own. Her blue eyes were filled with amusement and something else. He was almost afraid to figure out what. “Don’t be modest, now, Sheriff.”

“I’m not!”

“And don’t be embarrassed, either.”

He gave her his blackest scowl. “That’s just plain foolish. Of course I’m not embarrassed. No reason to be. It’s all just part and parcel of my job.”

Misty shook her head as if scolding him, and it rankled. “I can’t quite figure you out, Morgan.”

Slowly, so she wouldn’t bolt, he slipped his hand free and trailed his fingers up her bare arm to the back of her neck. He’d always loved the feel of women, the smoothness compared to a man’s rough angles. But for whatever reason, he loved the feel of Misty more.

Just touching her arm made his heart race, his groin throb. He could only imagine how it would be once he had her naked beneath him, able to touch and taste and investigate every small part of her. He shook with the thought.

Goose bumps appeared where he’d touched her, and she gave a small shiver. “I’m as clear as glass, sweetheart.” He was aware of how husky his voice had gone, but damn, he felt like he was burning up. Gently rubbing the back of her neck, he urged her a tiny bit closer, then closer still. He stared at her thick eyelashes, resting against her cheeks, at the warm flush of her skin. “I’m just a man who wants you.”

She answered in a similar husky whisper. “That part has been plain enough.” Staring at his throat, her small hands restless, she refused to meet his gaze. “It’s the rest that confounds me.”

“But anything else is unimportant.” And then he kissed her.

MISTY KNEW her joke about making Morgan miserable had backfired in a big way. She was the one suffering, not him. She realized she actually liked the big guy, and almost cursed. He was so cavalier about all he did, all the responsibility he accepted.

And she seemed to have no control around him at all. He was just so big and so strong and so incredibly handsome. But it was more than that.

Morgan was a nice man.

He was also an honorable man who took his job very seriously and cared about people, not just the people he called family, but all the people in his community. Like an overlord of old, he felt responsible for their safety and happiness. And that made him almost too appealing to resist.

A soft moan escaped her when Morgan touched his mouth to hers and she felt his tongue teasing her lips.

“Open up for me, Malone.”

Her hand fisted in his shirt over his hard chest. She felt the trembling of his muscles, the pounding of his heartbeat—and her lips parted.

Morgan let out his own groan only seconds before his tongue was in her mouth. She’d never known kissing like this, so hot and intimate and something more than just mouth on mouth. Maybe it was because Morgan was unique, but being kissed by him seemed more exciting than anything she’d ever done.

Beneath her fingers she could feel his labored breaths, and she opened her palm, amazed by the way his hard muscles shifted and moved in response to her touch. She felt powerful—no man had ever made her feel that way before.

As if he’d known her thoughts, he caught her other hand, which had been idly clasped at his waistband, and dragged it up to his chest. “Damn, I love it when you touch me.”

Misty tucked her face beneath his chin and tried to take a calming breath. Instead, she inhaled his hot male scent and renewed desire. Rather than pushing his advantage, Morgan looped both arms around her and rocked her gently.

“It’s almost too much, isn’t it?” he growled against her temple.

Words were too difficult, so she nodded, bumping his chin. She felt like crying and hated herself for it. She’d never been a woman who wept over every little thing, so she assumed it must be the pregnancy making her so weak.

Then again, Morgan wasn’t a little thing. He was a great big hulking gorgeous thing, and how he made her feel was enough to shake the earth.

His fingertips smoothed over her cheek. “I’m trying to give you time, sweetheart. I know you’ve been through a lot and until this morning, I’ve done nothing but push you away. But it’s not easy.” He gave a shaky laugh and admitted, “It’s damn near impossible, if you want the truth.”

His words prompted a new thought, but there was no way she could look him in the eyes right now. Morgan would see everything she felt and he’d stop trying to be so considerate. If he pushed even the tiniest bit, she’d give in to him and she knew it. As much as she wanted him, she didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. She needed more time.

Hiding her face close to his chest, she did her best to sound casual when she spoke. “It was a rather quick turnaround for you.”

“No.” He kissed her ear, then nipped her lobe, making her jump. “I wanted you something fierce the first second I saw you. I just figured it’d be too complicated if we got involved.”

“Because you’re looking for a wife?”

He stiffened slightly, then deliberately began rubbing her back. “Because you’re Honey’s sister, so you were off-limits for a fling.”

It felt like her heart broke, his honest words hurt so much. Her throat was constricted, and she swallowed hard so he wouldn’t know how strongly he’d affected her. “But now, since it’s obvious what type of woman I am, my relationship to Honey no longer matters?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Morgan tried to tip her back to see her face, but she held onto him like a clinging vine and he finally quit trying. His mouth pressed warmly to her temple and his arms tightened. “I don’t think you’re easy, Malone, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“No?” She forced herself to unclench his shirt. The man would wear wrinkles all day thanks to her. And his brothers would probably take one look at him and know why. “I’m pregnant, with no husband, no job. I’m a convict, for crying out loud. What’s your definition of easy?”

He took her off guard, thrusting her back a good foot with his hands wrapped securely around her upper arms. His scowl was enough to scare demons back to hell. Misty held her breath, not afraid of him physically, really, but very uncertain of his mood.

He started to say something, then paused. “Damn it,” he growled, “don’t look at me like that. I would never hurt you.”

She nodded. “I know it.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

“You’re shaking me.”

He looked poleaxed by that observation, then dropped his hands to shove them onto his hips in a thoroughly arrogant stance. Misty wrapped her arms around herself and watched him cautiously.

He didn’t apologize. “And you deserve it, too.”

“For asking a question?” Now that he wasn’t touching her, she could regain her edge.

“For suggesting something so stupid.” He took a quick step toward her, leaned down in a most unnerving way and practically shouted, “I do not think you’re easy!”

Misty blinked.

“Hell, woman, you’re about the most difficult female I’ve ever run across. You fight me at every damn turn.”

For some reason, Misty felt like smiling. She bit her lip, knowing Morgan wouldn’t appreciate it one bit. “That’s not true.”

“No? I go crazy for you, and you ignore me, then flirt outrageously with every other male in the county.”

That got her good and mad. “I did no such thing! And you ignored me first.” She hadn’t meant to bring that up; it made her sound spiteful, as if she’d ignored him to get even. She frowned at him for making her say too much.

“I tell you to leave, you argue about it. I all but beg you to stay, you argue about it.”

“I did not argue about leaving.”

“You got snide, I remember that well enough.” He rubbed his neck and groaned. “Hell, it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself, to put up with having you in the house until Sawyer’s wedding, and you just kept sniping at me, and for some fool reason that only made me want you more.”

“How could I have ignored you and sniped at you at the same time? That doesn’t make sense, Morgan.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’d snipe with silence, by being there, making me want you, then chatting with one of my disreputable brothers as if I wasn’t in the room when I knew damn good and well you were aware of me. Admit it, Malone.”

This time she gave in to the grin; she couldn’t help herself. “Admit I was aware of you? Sure. You’re a mite hard to miss, Morgan, being so big and all.”

He took another step toward her, and she backed up. In soft tones that sounded like threats rather than compliments, he said, “I admire your pride, sweetheart, I really do. But that pride is misplaced when you cut off your nose to spite your face.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you wanted to stay here, but stubbornly refused just because I’d been a pigheaded fool and asked you to go.”

“I agreed to stay, Morgan,” she said, feeling it necessary to point that out.

“And you refused a good job, just because you thought it was created for you.”

“Uh…I took the job, too, remember?”

“I remember that I had to practically get down on my hands and knees, as well as resort to every lamebrained scheme around, to get your agreement! And you dare to say I think you’re easy?”

“Will you stop shouting at me?”

He halted. Misty had her back to a bookcase, and Morgan was only a scant inch away. “Yeah, I’ll stop shouting. As long as you promise to never again put words in my mouth.”

Because he looked so sincerely put out over it, she agreed. “I’m sorry.”

With his hands on the bookshelf level with her head, he caged her in. “Listen good, Malone, because I don’t want to have to repeat this.” His gaze dipped to her mouth, then came back to her eyes, pinning her motionless. “I do not think you’re easy. I think you’re a beautiful woman who got involved with the wrong guy and ended up in some trouble because of it. And no, I’m not talking about the pregnancy, because you’re right, that’s not real trouble. If you want the baby, then everything else will work itself out. I was talking about being blamed for the theft.”

He drew a long breath, then squeezed his eyes shut. “And I’ll have you know that even arguing with you makes me hot. I’m so damn hard right now I could be considered lethal.”

A startled laugh burst out of her, making Morgan scowl all the more. She looked at his face, then doubled over in laughter, making an awful racket but unable to help herself.

Morgan waited patiently, crossing his arms over his chest and blocking her so she couldn’t move away. His reaction made her laugh harder, and she fell against him until he was forced to prop her up.

When she finally quieted, Morgan was rubbing her back and smiling at her. “You want to tell me what brought that on?”

“You’re priceless, Morgan.”

“How so?”

He was such a reprobate. She smiled at him as she explained, aware of his hands drifting lower, almost to her behind. “You have absolutely no consideration for my modesty or my sensibilities. You talk about the most personal things—”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact you seem to have a problem with control.”

He shook his head very slowly. “Not usually. Everyone will tell you I maintain absolute control.”

She quirked a brow and stared at his fly.

With a grin, Morgan said, “That’s an aberration, an involuntary reaction that can’t be controlled around you.”

She almost started laughing again. “Well, whatever it is, you show no hesitation in talking about it, shocking me all the time, embarrassing me.”

His hands slid over her bottom completely, and he lifted her to her tiptoes so she fit against him. She caught her breath as his voice went husky and deep. “I want you to know how much I want you, sweetheart.”

Contentment swelled inside her. She knew it was dangerous to make herself vulnerable to him, but at the moment, she was too touched to care. “That’s just it,” she said softly, “you show no hesitation about making me blush, but you’re so considerate of my feelings otherwise. Thank you.”

Morgan’s fingers contracted on her backside, caressing and exciting. “You want to know how you can thank me?”

Misty was ready to start laughing again when a tentative knock sounded on the door. She jumped, bumped her head on the bookcase, then shoved him away. “Good grief, my first time in your office and look what happens.”

With a wry look, Morgan turned and headed for the door. “Unfortunately, not a thing happened.” He stepped into the hallway. Misty went to the office door to peek out and see who it was. When she saw Howard and Jesse stomping to remove the dirt from their boots, she stepped out to greet them.

“Are you all done for the day?”

Jesse shook his head. “Just taking off for lunch. Is this your first day?”

“No, Morgan was just showing me around today. I’ll start tomorrow.”

Jesse frowned at Morgan. “How long does she have?”

Misty didn’t understand the question, and Morgan didn’t help by grinning at her. “I’m not sure yet. What do you think?”

“I think it’d be nice to keep her on for good, but I don’t suppose that’d be fair.”

Howard agreed. “Can’t imagine what she could’ve done—not that I’m prying, you understand. But to be here in the first place…”

Misty frowned in confusion. “I’m here because Morgan said he needed someone to answer the phone and take messages.”

Jesse nodded. “That’s a fact. Just about every day one woman or another comes here insisting just that. But I always wondered if it’s really work they have on their minds.” He gave her an exaggerated wink. “Ought to put an end to that now, what with Misty here, though.”

“That,” Misty said while trying to hide her annoyance at the thought, “is entirely up to Morgan.”

“Yes, it is,” Morgan agreed, smiling at her, “but it so happens I think Jesse is right. One female in the office is more than enough.”

Misty clamped her lips together to keep from replying.

Morgan looked disappointed at her restraint. He turned his attention to the men. “You both have lunch with you?”

“Naw, we’re going to the diner. Ceily promised me meat loaf today.”

He glanced at his watch. “Is the diner open yet?”

“She’ll slip us in through the kitchen.”

Howard added, “You take it easy on the little lady, now, you hear?”

“I should explain something, here, guys—” Morgan began, and Misty knew he was going to blurt out something stupid, about how they were involved.

She rushed to his side and nudged him playfully with her shoulder, trying to act like a pal instead of an almost lover. “Morgan is a big pushover. Don’t you worry, I can handle him.”

Both the men stared at her in awe. Morgan rumbled, a sound between a laugh and a growl. “Malone—”

“Behave, Morgan,” she snapped, giving him a telling look before forcing a smile on the men. “They’re hungry. Let them go eat.”

“But—”

Misty ignored him. “Run on, now. You both look famished to me. Everyone knows big healthy men need to eat a lot to keep up their strength. Especially when they’re working as hard as you two are.”

Jesse and Howard puffed up like proud roosters.

Misty waved them off, and after Morgan had shut the door, he said with amusement, “You certainly wrapped them around your little finger.”

She didn’t appreciate that comment at all, considering she’d barely managed to keep him from embarrassing her again. “They’re very sweet men.”

Morgan choked on a laugh. “They feel the same way about you. That’s why they were trying to find out why you’re here.”

She didn’t understand his humor at all. “Is it so uncommon for you to hire someone?”

Morgan pursed his mouth, but ended up chuckling anyway. “Actually, yeah, it is. And Malone, they don’t think you were hired.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do they think I coerced the job out of you? I swear, Morgan, if people are going to talk because I’m working here…”

He leaned a shoulder against the wall, and even though his mouth wasn’t smiling, she saw the unholy glint in his blue eyes. “Oh, they’ll talk, all right. You see, at this moment Jesse and Howard are probably telling anyone they can find that you’re serving out your time working here—same as they are.”

She felt her eyes nearly cross. “That’s ridiculous!”

Shrugging, he said, “That’s usually why I bring someone in underfoot. Because they got into mischief and have to do community work.”

“But…” She couldn’t think of anything to say, then her temper flared. “You could have set them straight!”

“I believe I tried to. But you were too intent on telling them how you could handle me to let me finish.”

Misty moaned and covered her face. “So now, even though no one here knows I was actually arrested, they’re all going to think the same about me anyway.”

Morgan pulled her hands down and kissed the end of her nose. “Let me show you around the office, explain your duties, then we’ll go to the diner and set them straight.”

“We will?”

He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Believe me, Malone, no one is going to have any doubts as to why I’m keeping you close, I promise. So quit your worries.”

Misty followed him into the office, but his promise, and the way he’d given it, left an empty ache inside her.

Morgan was slowly getting under her skin, and that left her feeling far from reassured.

“OUCH.” Misty bumped her head as she knelt and crawled beneath the desk. “You’re sure she went under here?”

Jordan sounded slightly strangled as he said, “Yeah, she’s under there.”

In the farthest corner, against the back wall, Misty saw a curled calico tail. “Ah, I see her. She’s a little thing.”

“I found her abandoned.” Anger laced Jordan’s tone, and that was unusual because Misty had never heard this particular brother sound anything but pleasant. “I brought her home to heal, and your sister sort of bonded with her. Usually she’s in bed with Honey, but today, well, I think she knew it was a day for shots and that’s why she’s running from me.”

Misty bumped her head again when she tried to look at Jordan. All she could see was his feet. He’d been chasing the cat to take it to his clinic when they’d run into each other in the hallway. The cat had scurried away while Jordan kept Misty from falling on her behind.

Misty had been hoping to leave the house before Morgan. According to Honey, he’d been looking for her last night and had been disgruntled when he couldn’t find her. But she wasn’t yet ready to tell him where she’d been. Dodging him this morning was the only way she could think of to buy herself some time.

“So do you like your new job?” Jordan asked her as she crawled deeper beneath the desk.

“Actually, I do.” She reached out her hand and the small cat, hissing at her, managed to inch a little farther away.

“That’s good. I gather Morgan is behaving himself?”

“Morgan is Morgan. He never really behaves. You know that.”

“Uh, yes, I see your point.”

Morgan was the most forward, outspoken man she’d ever known, but he kept her smiling and sometimes even laughing. And he always made her very aware of her own femininity. The man could scorch her with a look, and in the short time she’d spent with him, she’d become addicted to the feeling.

But the entire week had been a series of near misses. Though she worked in his office, he was seldom there. She’d had no idea he kept such a horrendously busy schedule. After hours wasn’t much better. When Morgan was free, she was gone. When she was free, Morgan got called away. His plan to make them look like a couple wasn’t quite working out as she’d assumed. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she’d been looking forward to his outrageous pursuit. And she missed him.

Jordan coughed suddenly, then suggested, “Uh, maybe you should just come on out of there?”

“No, I’ve almost got her. She’s worked herself into a tiny little ball. Let me just scrunch in here a bit more.”

“No, wait. I’ll pull the desk out.”

Misty was sure she heard repressed laugher in Jordan’s voice, but the sound was muffled because most of her upper body was wedged into the seating area of the desk. “No, if you do that she’ll just run off again. At least this way I have her cornered.”

Jordan made a strangled sound.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Misty tried wiggling her fingers at the cat. She had hoped to be gone already, out the door before Morgan awoke. Working with him was more enjoyable than she’d thought it would be. She liked getting to know everyone in the town, and it was so obvious to her how they all adored their sheriff. He was treated with respect and reverence and a bit of awe.

“So your arrangement with Morgan is working out?”

She snorted, wondering which arrangement Jordan referred to. The work or the personal relationship. “Yes, things are fine. Although Morgan does like to complain a lot.”

“Well, as to that,” Jordan said cautiously, “I think he complains because things aren’t going quite the way he planned.”

“Things aren’t going quite how I planned, either.” She laughed, then added, “Morgan gripes because it’s a habit, just like scowling at everyone.” Misty thought of all she’d learned about Morgan in the past week, how he reacted with the various community members who liked to stop by and offer suggestions or complaints or idle chitchat. His patience was limitless, and why not? He usually controlled everything and everyone without anybody even realizing it. He was careful not to offend, strong and supportive, understanding. But the final word was his, and they all respected that about him. In fact, she often got the impression that they brought their minor gripes to him so he would take charge, saving them the hassle.

Overall, she admitted he made a pretty wonderful sheriff.

“You know, Jordan, Morgan would like the world to think he’s a real bear, but Honey’s right. Deep down he’s just a big softy.”

There was a choked laugh, then a loud thump. Jordan cursed under his breath.

“Now don’t tease, Jordan. You know I’m right. Even though you all harass each other endlessly, you know your brother is pretty terrific.”

Jordan’s voice was lazy. “I think you and Honey are sharing that particular delusion. She’s as misguided about him as you are.” Then: “Just think. With you two singing his praises, Morgan will be known as a real pussycat in no time at all.”

Laughing, Misty said, “I wouldn’t go that far!”

Her laugh startled the cat, and when she tried to run, Misty reached out and scooped her up. “I’ve got her.” She started crawling backward, inching her way out. The cat didn’t fight her. Instead, it purred loudly at the attention.

Misty held the small calico close to her chest and scooted until she bumped into a pair of hard shins. Startled, she turned and looked up to see what Jordan was doing, and was met with Morgan’s blackest look. He had his big feet braced, his hands on his hips and his jaw locked. He didn’t move.

Jordan stood behind him, grinning.

For some fool reason, Misty felt her face heating. How long had he been there? What had she just been saying about him? She pulled her gaze away from his and frowned at Jordan. “You could have warned me.”

“Warned you about what?” Jordan asked innocently.

Morgan reached down and caught Misty’s elbow. “Come on, Malone, quit abusing my brother.”

Judging by the way Jordan rubbed his shoulder, Misty had the suspicion Morgan had already done enough abusing, but she had no idea why. Jordan didn’t seem bothered by it, though. He looked entertained. She frowned at Morgan. “What do you want?”

He didn’t appear to like her question. “We need to get to work.”

Misty stood, attempting to ignore Morgan’s nearness and Jordan’s attentive presence. “We’ve got a few minutes.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Morgan said, “Is that so? Then why were you trying to hightail it out of here so early?”

She couldn’t very well explain with Morgan’s brother standing there, so she turned to Jordan and handed him the cat. “Hang onto her this time.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” Jordan leaned forward and kissed her cheek, grinned at Morgan one more time, then left them. Misty could hear his soft crooning voice as he spoke with the cat.

She had a feeling Jordan had kissed her just to provoke Morgan, and seeing the way Morgan clenched his jaw, it must have worked. They stared at each other for a long, silent moment. Finally, Morgan shook his head. “You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

“That’s not true! We’ve just had conflicting schedules, that’s all.”

“Your only schedule is working with me. Yet I haven’t had one single second alone with you. That’s avoidance.”

She didn’t want to admit that she’d missed him, too, or that she did, in fact, have another schedule. “It’s not my fault that you work all the time.”

“I knocked at your door at six yesterday.” His gaze softened. “I expected to find you in bed still, all warm and sleepy. But you were gone already.”

Misty wondered what he would have done if he’d found her in bed, and the thought wasn’t at all repulsive. She cleared her throat. “Maybe it was a good thing I wasn’t there.”

“There you go with those lecherous thoughts again, Malone. I was just going to offer to take you to breakfast.”

She winced at the very idea. “If you’ll recall, Morgan, mornings are a little rough for me. I like to walk down and sit by the lake. The fresh air settles my stomach some.”

He scowled over that, and his voice sounded gruff, more with concern than annoyance. “I’d forgotten. Has the morning sickness been bad?”

Oh, when Morgan was being so sweet, it was all she could do to resist him. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to anymore. Thoughts of being with him had consumed her lately. When he was around, she could barely take her eyes off him, and when he wasn’t, her thoughts centered on him.

Misty realized he was watching her, and she coughed. “Actually,” she said, deciding to give him a small truth, “it’s been better lately. Usually, as long as I don’t eat, my stomach settles down fairly quick.”

“So you’ve been skipping breakfast?”

“I was never much for big morning meals, anyway.”

His frown was back, more intense than ever. “You weren’t at dinner last night, either.” He looked her over, then shook his head. “You know how important it is for you to eat properly right now.”

“I have enough mothering from Honey. You don’t need to start, too.” And before he could protest that, she added, “Besides, I’m not starving myself. I ate in town last night.”

He went still, then he flushed and growled, “With who?”

This was exactly the subject Misty had hoped to avoid, but now it looked as if she had no choice but to tell him. Exasperated, she pushed past him and headed down the hall. Morgan followed. “If you must know,” she said over her shoulder, “I was working.”

“You got off work at three o’clock, Malone. I watched you leave.”

Yes, he had. She shivered just remembering. Morgan had been watching her with a brooding frown as she’d gathered her things. He was stuck talking with an elderly woman who claimed her neighbor mowed his grass too early in the morning to suit her. Misty had known by the look on Morgan’s face that his patience was about at an end. If she hadn’t been required to be elsewhere, she very well might have hung around just to see what he’d do. “I left the station at three o’clock. But then I went to the diner.”

“To meet someone?”

Her temper snapped. Did he always have to think the worst of her? “That’s none of your concern.”

She kept walking, but he had stopped. She didn’t mean to, but when she turned to face him and saw his expression, her heart almost melted. He looked angry and frustrated and…hurt.

She’d never thought she’d see a look like that on the inimitable sheriff’s face.

She didn’t like it at all.

She stomped down the hall to glare at him, thrust her chin up and said, “No, I wasn’t meeting anyone. I went there to work.”

His confusion was almost laughable. “You’re working at the diner? Since when?”

“Since yesterday. Ceily hired me.” His mouth opened and she said, “Before you ask, yes, I told her about my record.”

“Misty.” He said her name so softly, like a reprimand, and she felt a lump gather in her throat. He took both her arms, his thumbs rubbing just above her elbows. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Bull. You had that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one that’s full of doubt.”

“That was just me trying to figure you out.” His mouth tipped in a small smile. “What did Ceily have to say?”

“I told her the truth, that I was innocent but couldn’t prove it, and that the whole thing had cost a lot so I needed to save up more money now. She believed me.” Misty twisted her hands together, once again caught in a worry. Ceily was a very pretty, petite woman with long golden brown hair and big brown eyes. She looked to be around Gabe’s age. She’d been very warm and welcoming to Misty from the onset. “She didn’t strike me as the type to carry tales. She even warned me about telling any secrets to Howard or Jesse. She said they’re both horrible gossips.”

Morgan laughed. “She would know. Jesse is her grandpa.”

“I hadn’t realized. They don’t look anything alike.”

“Considering Jesse is old and cantankerous and Ceily is young and cute, I’m not surprised you didn’t see the family resemblance. But you’re right about Ceily, she doesn’t gossip. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Without meaning to, Misty frowned at him. “You know her well?”

He shrugged. “As well as I know anyone here. Ceily and Gabe went through school together, and she used to hang out at the house when they were younger. They’re both water fanatics. She’s a good kid.”

Misty relaxed the tiniest bit. It appeared her secrets were safe with Ceily, which had been her only concern.

Morgan asked, “Do you mind telling me how you figure on doing both jobs?”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” she muttered. He was strong and capable and respected…and it would have been so easy to lean on him and let him help her, to follow suit with the entire town and let Morgan handle her problems. But she wanted to regain what she’d lost on her own. It was the only way she could think of to restore her self-respect.

He let her go reluctantly and fell into step beside her as she headed for her room. “Tell me what I don’t understand, babe.”

She shook her head. “What I do for you can barely be considered part time, Morgan. It’s only six hours a day.”

“I didn’t want you to overdo.”

Why, oh why, did he have to say things like that? “I’m not breakable, you know.”

“I would never suggest such a thing.” He kept pace with her easily, then paused when she reached her door. “No one would ever doubt your strength or determination, Malone. If that’s what this is about…”

Flustered, Misty shrugged. “There’s no reason I can’t work for the diner in the evenings, right? Ceily agreed to put me on at four. That gives me time to grab a bite to eat and then get in four or five more hours. Last night, I made fifty bucks in tips. It’s a good job.”

Morgan propped his hands on his hips, dropped his head forward and paced several feet. When he finally faced her again, he looked grim. “I’m going to let all that go for now.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

He didn’t appreciate her dry wit. “I want to talk to you about something else. Will you ride into work with me?”

She regretted the need to refuse him. “I can’t. I’ll be going to the diner again after we finish at the station. I’ll need my car to get home.”

“I’ll pick you up when you get off.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Morgan. You never know when you might get a call, and I don’t want to interrupt things for you.”

He did a little more jaw locking. Misty wondered why he didn’t have a perpetual headache.

“All right. Then let me take you to my house tonight. I’ve been wanting to show it to you, anyway.”

The idea was tempting. From afar, his house looked wonderful. It wasn’t quite as large as the house he shared with his brothers, but it had just as much character. The exterior appeared to be cedar, and few of the mature trees had been displaced during the building. Every morning when she went to the lake, she looked at his house. Its position on the hill would prove a stunning view. “Why do you want to go there?”

He shrugged. “I just want your opinion, to see if you like it. No other woman has seen it yet, except for Honey. But the two of you are so different, I thought it’d be nice to get your reaction, too. The house will be done before much longer. Gabe works on it off and on, and I get up there whenever I can. All the major stuff is done, now it just needs the finishing touches.”

Misty chewed her bottom lip. She wasn’t stupid; she knew if she was alone with Morgan for any length of time, they’d probably end up making love. She’d honestly believed no man could ever tempt her again, but she hadn’t counted on a man like him. She’d thought him incredibly sexy from the moment she saw him, and since then, she’d also discovered what a wonderful man he was, inside as well as out.

He was always honest with her, and she knew deep in her heart she’d never meet another man like him. She was through with lasting relationships, and as soon as she could save up a little money, she was going to move away. By the time she returned for a visit, Morgan might well be married and on his way to having his own children.

She shook her head, saying mostly to herself, “I don’t know….”

His hands cradled her face. “I won’t lie to you, Malone. I want some time alone with you. I want to be able to talk to you without one of my damn brothers nosing in, or someone at the station staring at us.” He looked at her mouth. “And I want to kiss you again. We’ve barely seen each other all week. At this rate, no one is going to believe we’re involved. Already I’ve had people questioning our relationship.”

He said the last with a growl, and she almost laughed at him. “What people?”

His frown deepened. “No one you need to know about. I made it clear you weren’t free—like we agreed, right?”

“Uh, right.” Morgan was in a very strange mood, she decided. It was almost as if he was…jealous.

“It’s Nate’s fault. He’s running around telling people we hardly talk, much less act involved.”

“Nate, your deputy?”

“Yeah.” Morgan looked suspicious. “And that reminds me, has Nate been flirting with you?”

Startled, Misty shook her head. She’d met Nate her first day on the job. He was a good-looking young man, not a whole lot taller than she was, with brown hair and green eyes and full of smiles. He’d asked her to lunch during her break, but she’d declined, choosing instead to eat at her desk—an apple and a peanut-butter sandwich she’d packed. After that, Nate usually brought a bagged lunch, too, and visited with her while they ate.

Morgan generally had appointments during that time and ate on the road. The amount of community work he did astounded her.

Morgan gave her a long sigh. “Are you sure?”

She scoffed at him. “He’s only a boy, Morgan.”

“He’s twenty-two years old, Malone, old enough to be my deputy, and only two years younger than you.” Morgan’s tone was exasperated. “Would you even realize it if Nate was flirting?”

“Well, I assume so.”

Morgan put one arm on the wall beside her head. “For some reason, I think you’re just oblivious to the way you affect men.”

“Maybe that’s because, so far, you’re the only one claiming to be affected. That only makes you the oddity, Morgan, not the norm.”

He didn’t look at all insulted by her comment. His large hand spread out over her middle, making her suck in her breath as a shock of awareness rolled through her. His fingertips, angled downward, nearly touched her hipbones. His palm was hot and firm against her.

Very softly he asked, “Now, how can that be true, when I know for a fact at least one other man chased you down? You didn’t get pregnant all by yourself.”

She couldn’t reply. So many feelings swamped her at once, it was difficult to sort them out. In the past, every relationship she’d shared had started because she wanted someone to call her own, because she’d believed women were supposed to share their lives with men. It wasn’t because she found a man irresistible and craved his company.

She no longer felt she needed or wanted a man in her life, and she’d decided she was better off on her own. But how she felt around Morgan was so different from those other relationships. She did crave him, and ignoring Morgan was like trying not to breathe—impossible.

By reflex, she put her hand over his, intending to pull it away, but instead, she held it tighter to her. “Kent…Kent was like most men, saying the right things to get my attention. I wanted to believe that he cared, so I did. But he never really wanted me, not like—” She stammered into silence and blushed.

Morgan gave her a satisfied smile. “You mean, like I do?”

How could he expect her to answer that? “All he really wanted,” she said, ignoring his question and her embarrassment, “was the convenience of being with one woman. He never really cared about me.”

“He was obviously a goddamned fool.”

She looked up at him, then felt snared in his gaze. “Men flirt by nature. It doesn’t mean anything. And it doesn’t matter who the woman is or what she looks like.”

“There’s flirting, and then there’s flirting.” Morgan gave her a small smile. “You can believe I’ve never disabled another woman’s car, or dragged her into a gazebo.”

Misty managed a laugh. “No, probably it was the women dragging you into private places.”

Morgan’s fingers on her abdomen began a gentle caress that made it difficult for her to remain still. “Let’s try this from another angle, okay? Forget Kent—he’s not worth mentioning. And he’s hardly a good example of the male species. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“So. Has Nate been hanging around your desk? Talking to you a lot? Has he asked you out?”

She could barely think with his palm pressed so intimately to her body. Her khaki slacks weren’t much of a barrier. And she could feel his breath on her cheek, could smell the delicious scent of cologne and soap and man. His wrist was so thick where she held him, her fingers couldn’t circle it completely. “Um, yes, yes and no.”

He nuzzled his nose against hers. “Yes and no what?”

“Yes, he talks with me, and yes, he stops by my desk. Just about everyone who comes into the station does.”

Morgan dropped his forehead to hers. “I need to put a paper sack over your head. I hadn’t realized it, but I’d have been better off hiding you away here at the house.”

Misty couldn’t help but smile. “No, he hasn’t asked me out. He invited me to lunch once, but that hardly counts as a date. That was just a friendly visit between employees. I think he gets lonely at lunchtime, because now he usually eats at the station with me.”

Morgan looked at her like she was a simpleton. “He’s flirting, Malone.”

“No, he’s not.”

Morgan drew an exasperated breath and shook his head at her. “I’m going to put a stop to it.”

“Jesse and Howard are always there. And don’t you dare suggest they’re flirting, too.”

He tipped his head back and groaned. “I’m surprised every single male in the area isn’t there hanging on your damn desk. From now on, I’m going to make sure I’m around to take you to lunch. And stop shaking your head at me!”

“Morgan, you’re being unreasonable.” But deep inside, she was pleased by his jealousy. She had to admit that maybe, just maybe, she was fighting a losing battle.

“I want to make sure you eat right.”

“Uh-huh. I can tell that’s your motivation.” Misty quit denying him. “If you want to take me to lunch, that’s fine with me.”

“Then it’s settled.” Triumph shone in his gaze. “And about damn time, too.”

“You know, Morgan, if everyone found out I was pregnant, that’d likely put an end to any interest—imagined or otherwise.”

Morgan kissed her brow, then her nose. “Don’t count on it. It didn’t do a damn thing to make me want you less.”

He was about to kiss her again, and she was about to let him, when Sawyer emerged from his bedroom and glanced at them.

“A little rendezvous in the hall?” he asked.

Misty felt like kicking Morgan. How did she always end up in these awkward situations when he was around? “Did we wake you?”

“Nope, I had early appointments this morning. The honeymoon is over now that a flu bug has started making the rounds.”

That sounded innocuous enough, and Misty sighed. “Well, I need to get going, anyway. I was just on my way out.”

Morgan tipped his head. “Didn’t you need something from your room?”

She closed her eyes. She’d come to her room just to escape him, but she wouldn’t admit that in front of Sawyer, who showed no signs of giving them any privacy. With a weak smile, she said, “Whatever it was, I’ve forgotten.”

She darted around Morgan and made a beeline past Sawyer. She was almost out of hearing range when Sawyer said, “You’ve got her on the run, Morgan. I just wonder if that was your intent.”

MORGAN GLARED at his brother. “I know what I’m doing.”

“And what exactly is that?”

They both left the hall in the direction of the kitchen. The smell of coffee was tantalizing, and Morgan needed a shot of caffeine to boost him. Unfortunately, Jordan was still there, the cat on his lap.

“You,” Morgan said, effectively distracted, “were ogling Misty when I walked in.”

Jordan shrugged, then said to Sawyer, “She’d climbed under the desk to get the cat for me.” His grin was unholy. “She has a damn fine bottom.”

Morgan felt ready for murder. “Keep your eyes off her bottom.”

“Why? You sure didn’t.” He rubbed the cat and said in an offhand way, “Sawyer, I meant to mention it to you earlier. I think there’s something wrong with Morgan.”

Sawyer filled his coffee cup then sank into a chair. He blew on the coffee to cool it, showing no interest in Jordan’s gibe.

Which of course didn’t stop Jordan. “Yep, I think he must be sick. Half the time I see him, he’s got this glazed look in his eyes. And once or twice, I’ve actually caught him smiling.”

Sawyer laughed. “No! Morgan smiling? That’s absurd.”

Morgan came half out of his seat, and Jordan held up a hand, grinning. “No, don’t throttle me. I’m on my way out the door right now. I just hung around to tell you…goodbye.” He stood, the cat tucked under his arm, and grabbed his keys hanging by the door. “I’ll see you all later.”

As the door closed behind him, Morgan muttered, “Good riddance.”

“Quit being such a grouch, Morgan. I survived, so I’m certain you will, too.”

“Survived what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Falling in love.” Sawyer added quickly, “No, don’t give me all your excuses. I’ve heard them all and even made up half of them. It’ll do you no good.”

Morgan felt like an elephant had just sat on his chest. He wheezed, then managed to say, “I am not in love.”

“No? Then what would you call it? Lust?”

“What I’d call it is no one’s business but my own.”

“I think Honey might disagree with you there. She loves her sister more than you can imagine. I think they spent the longest time with no one but each other. Right now, Honey’s convinced you’re an honorable, likable gentleman. But if you hurt Misty, she’ll take you apart. And I can tell you right now, there’s not a damn thing I could do about it.”

“I keep telling you that you should control your wife.”

“Spoken like a true bachelor.”

“Besides, I’d never hurt Malone.”

“Oh? You think having an affair with you won’t hurt her? She’s been through enough, Morgan. Did you know she went to her father and he offered not an ounce of comfort? Honey told me about it. It seems he was more disappointed with her than anything else.”

Which, Morgan assumed, pretty much guaranteed she wouldn’t bother him with her arrest and conviction. She’d known without asking that her father wouldn’t assist her, or even take her side. Morgan shook his head, feeling that damn pain again. Misty had come to the only person she could really count on: her sister. And thank God she had.

Sawyer frowned at him. “She needs some stability, Morgan, not more halfhearted commitments.”

Morgan downed half his coffee, burned his tongue and cursed in the foulest of terms. Sawyer never said a word. “Look, Sawyer, she doesn’t want a commitment, all right? She told me that herself. She’s sworn off men.”

“Hate to break it to you like this, Morgan, but you’re a man.”

“That’s not what I meant! What we feel—well, it’s mutual. Only she doesn’t want to get overly involved.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Any more than I do.”

“I thought you wanted to get married?”

He shook his head, wondering if Sawyer was rattling him on purpose. “I want a wife like Honey.”

Sawyer spewed coffee across the table. Morgan gave him a look then handed him a napkin. “I said a wife like her, not Honey, herself. I want someone domestic and settled and sweet….”

“You don’t think Misty fits the bill? What, she’s not sweet? She’s got a nasty temper?”

“I never said that,” he ground out between clenched teeth. He thought Misty Malone was about the sweetest woman he’d ever met, even if her temper rivaled his own. Or maybe because of her temper. He almost grinned. “You keep forgetting, Misty doesn’t want to get married. She’s told me that plain as day.”

Suddenly Sawyer’s eyes widened. “Good God. You’re afraid.”

Morgan slowly stiffened, and he felt every muscle tense. In a low growl, he asked his brother, “Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?”

Sawyer waved a hand, dismissing any threat. “You’re afraid you’ll ask her and she’ll turn you down.”

Even his damn toes tensed. “You’re a doctor of medicine, Sawyer, not psychology. There’s a good reason for that, you know.”

Sawyer started to laugh. “I don’t believe this. Women have been chasing you for as long as I can remember, and now here’s one you’ve got cornered, keeping her as close as you can get her, but you’re afraid of her.”

“Honey’s not going to like you much with a bloody nose.”

Morgan hadn’t actually raised a hand in anger toward any of his brothers since his early teens. He assumed that was why Sawyer so easily ignored his warning.

Sawyer was still laughing, and Morgan decided it was time to change the subject. “She’s taken another job.”

That shut him up. “Misty quit working for you?”

“No, she took a second job. But should she be doing that in her condition?”

“Her condition isn’t exactly debilitating,” Sawyer pointed out, then with curiosity: “What job did she take?”

“She’s working at the diner.” Morgan knew he sounded disgruntled, but damn it, he didn’t want her working two jobs. And he sure as certain didn’t want her out there where anyone and everyone from town would be able to look her over. The woman didn’t know her own appeal. Before she’d even be aware of it, she’d find herself engaged again. Morgan wasn’t about to let that happen.

“From what she said, I gather she plans to work there an additional six or so hours, all in the evening. I think it’s too much.”

Sawyer frowned in thought. “She’s a healthy young woman, and her pregnancy is still in the early stages, so it probably won’t bother her right now. But when she gets further along, there’s a good chance her ankles will swell and her back will hurt if she stays on her feet for that long.”

“Maybe you should try talking to her.” Morgan thought it was a terrific idea, and his mood lightened. “You’re a doctor. She’d listen to you.”

“I’m not her doctor, so it’s none of my business. Come to that, it’s none of your business, either.”

“Hmm. She hasn’t mentioned seeing a doctor at all. And shouldn’t she be taking vitamins or something?”

Sawyer gave it up. “Why don’t you ask her about it. I can give her the vitamins, but she should have regular checkups with an obstetrician. Being she’s new in the area, I could recommend someone.” As an afterthought, Sawyer asked, “How far along is she?”

“I think she said around three months. Why?”

Sawyer finished his coffee and stood. “No matter.” He looked his brother over carefully. “I’ve got to get to work. Are you going to be okay?”

Morgan immediately frowned again. “I’m fine, damn it.”

“Just asking.” He turned to go, but hesitated. “Morgan? At least think about what I said, all right? If you wait too long to figure things out, you could blow it. And I can only imagine what a miserable bastard you’d be in that case.”

Morgan watched him go, thinking that marriage had made Sawyer more philosophical than usual. Then he thought of Misty at the office, with Nate and Jesse and Howard all sucking up to her. He saw red.

Howard and Jesse were old enough to be her grandfathers, and she was right when she said Nate wasn’t much more than a kid.

It was a sad day when he got jealous over the likes of them, but Morgan admitted the truth—he was jealous. Viciously jealous. He didn’t want anyone looking at her, because he knew good and well that any red-blooded male, regardless of his age, would be thinking the same erotic things he thought.

Jealousy was new to him. He’d been dating women since before he was Casey’s age, and never once experienced so much as a twinge. If a woman wasn’t interested, he moved on. If she was, they set up ground rules and had some fun. The twist with Misty was that she was interested, but she’d rather deny them both because she’d been burned and she didn’t want to get involved. Morgan had thought that the promise of an uninvolved relationship might suit her, but so far she’d turned that down, too.

Was Sawyer right? Was Misty only trying to protect herself from being hurt again? He knew having a record wasn’t something she’d ever be able to accept, so he’d set things in motion on that front. He didn’t believe she was guilty, but he had a hunch who was. He’d hired a few men to check into it, and now it was only a matter of waiting to see if he was right.

Maybe once that was taken care of, she’d stop holding back on him. If he could only get her to see how good things would be between them…. What? He’d get her to marry him?

Morgan thought about that, then nodded. Life with Misty would be one hell of a wild ride. He grinned with the thought. She was spicy and enticing and sweet and stubborn, and he wanted her so bad he couldn’t sleep at night.

Morgan stood and picked up his hat, then snatched his keys from the peg on the wall. It was well past time he got a few things clear with her. Tonight, when he took her to his house, he’d stake a claim. He’d show her that they were a perfect match and when she got used to that, he’d reel her in for the permanent stuff.

In the meantime, he’d shore up his cause by showing her how gentle and understanding he could be. He’d even make a point of not frowning and maybe, just maybe, she’d stop fighting him so hard and then he could quit feeling so desperate, because he sure as certain didn’t like the feeling one damn bit.

MORGAN’S better intentions were put on hold when he found a woman with a car full of kids and a flat tire waiting on the side of the road. She’d been on her way home from grocery shopping when the tire blew. Unfortunately, her spare wasn’t in much better shape. Morgan called in to Misty, told her why he’d be late and asked her to postpone his morning meeting with the town trustees.

She’d sounded a little frazzled when he called, but he didn’t have time to linger and find out why. He bundled the woman, her children and her flat, as well as her worthless spare, into the Bronco and drove to her house. The kids, ranging in age from one year to twelve, had screamed and yelled and generally enjoyed the excitement of being in the sheriff’s car. Morgan wondered if he ought to make that a regular part of the Blackberry Festival. He and his deputy could take turns giving the kids a ride around the town square.

His thoughts wandered from that as the woman tried to thank him in her driveway, obviously embarrassed that her children were loud and that he’d had his day interrupted. Personally, Morgan thought the kids were pretty cute, three of them girls, the youngest two boys, and he told her so even as he juggled a bag of groceries and a tiny three-year-old. The mother had positively beamed at him then.

All in all, they’d acted like children, which they were, so he saw no reason for her to be uncomfortable about a little noise.

After Morgan helped her get her groceries inside, he called Gabe. His brother met him at the garage where they got both tires repaired. After they’d driven back out to her car and changed the tire, Gabe drove the woman’s car to her house while Morgan took the Bronco. Finally, they both went back to the garage.

“I appreciate your help, Gabe. Could you believe those tires she’s driving on? And with five kids in the car.” Morgan shook his head, wondering if there was any way he could help her. She and her husband were both hard workers, but her husband had suffered an illness and missed a lot of work in the past year.

Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s her husband do for a living?”

“He’s a carpenter, I think.”

“Maybe we could barter with him. You still need some trim put on the back deck, and if he could—”

Morgan grinned. “—do the work on a weekend, I could give them some tires.” He clapped Gabe on the back, almost knocking him over. “Hell of an idea.”

Gabe shifted his shoulder, working out the sting of his brother’s enthusiasm. “If you want, I could get hold of the guy, tell him I’m not able to do the trim and see if he’d be interested. It’d probably sound more authentic coming from me.”

Morgan started to clap him again and Gabe ducked away. “I’ll take that as your agreement and get in touch with him tomorrow. I’ll let you know what he says.”

Morgan left Gabe with a smile on his face. But when he pulled into the station, Ms. Potter, the librarian, hailed him. She wanted to know if he’d agree to take part in their annual read-a-thon, where a group of leading citizens would each pick a day to read to the preschoolers and anyone else who wanted to listen in. Morgan agreed, though it wasn’t one of his favorite tasks. The books for that age group tended to rhyme, and his tongue always got twisted.

Next it was two shop owners who wanted to know if he was going to have the county take care of a massive tree limb that was likely to fall on their roofs if a storm hit. Morgan eyed the tree, agreed it needed a good trimming and made a note to get hold of the maintenance crew.

By the time he finally walked into the station he was hot and sweaty and frustrated. He looked forward to seeing Misty, to reassuring her, showing her what a great guy he could be and that she could trust in him. Little by little, he’d win her over. Then he’d talk to her again about her avoidance of commitments.

He walked into chaos.

The noise had reached him even before he opened the door. Laughter. Lots of male laugher and music and a banging noise. Morgan frowned and headed directly for the small desk that Misty occupied during her work hours. He found her sitting there—not in the chair, but on the edge of the desk, her long legs bare, crossed at the ankles. Casey was there, too, with a couple of his pals, and they had evidently supplied the music that was blasting from a portable CD player. Howard had pulled Misty’s chair to the side of the desk and was seated in it. Jesse had his bony butt propped on the arm of the chair. Nate stood in front of Misty, dancing while she cheered him on.

Her tailored slacks had been replaced with shorts. Her white blouse was gone in favor of a loose T-shirt. She was barefoot, and of all damn things, she was licking an ice cream cone.

Morgan saw red.

No one had noticed him, and he watched silently while his temper seethed. When Nate made a turn, Misty shook her head, swallowed a large lick of ice cream and then handed her cone to Casey. Casey, the traitor, just laughed and held it for her.

Misty stood in front of Nate and executed the dance step herself.

Lord, she looked sexy.

Morgan glanced around at the other men in the room and saw his thoughts mirrored on all their faces. The last thin thread of his control snapped. “What the hell is going on here?”

His roar effectively stopped the dance. Nate nearly jumped out of his skin, Casey quickly handed Misty back the cone, and both Howard and Jesse jerked to their feet. The loud banging noise continued.

Morgan stalked into the room. His gaze slid over Misty, then shifted to Casey. “Turn that damn music off.”

One of the kids with Casey hurried to obey. Nate stepped forward. “Uh, Morgan, we were just—”

Morgan cut him off with a glare. Nate stammered for a moment, then clicked his teeth together and went mute.

With a sound of disgust, Misty stepped forward. “For heaven’s sake, Morgan. Stop trying to terrorize everyone.”

Morgan stared at her and silently applauded her courage. No one else in the room would have dared call him to task. She obviously didn’t realize quite how angry he was.

Her hair was mussed, her skin dewy, her eyes bright. She looked like someone had just made love to her. And she dared to stand there giving him defiant looks in front of everyone.

“Is this what I pay you for, Malone? To have a party?”

Her eyes narrowed. “We weren’t having a party. If you’ll just listen…”

The T-shirt clung to her damp skin, emphasizing her breasts and distracting him. Her cuffed walking shorts showed off her long, sleek legs. A pulse tapped in his temple, making his head swim. “Employees of this office,” he said succinctly, “do not traipse around dressed like that.”

She took a step closer to him and stared up, her brows beetled. “I had to change.”

His gaze dropped to the large cone she held, now dripping on her hand. “Nor do they eat ice cream cones during business hours.”

“Morgan.” She said his name like a growl.

He ignored the warning, too angry to care that now she was angry, too. “I pay you to work, to answer the phone and take messages. It’s little enough to expect that you might take those duties seriously.”

Casey groaned, then mumbled, “Now you’ve done it.”

Morgan paid no attention to his nephew. He was too fascinated by the way Misty’s eyes darkened, turning midnight blue.

She went on tiptoe. “I’ll have you know, I’ve worked my butt off today!”

He leaned to look behind her. “Looks to me like you’ve got plenty of ass left.”

Her gasp was almost drowned out by the groans of the spectators. Misty turned around and snatched up a stack of notes scattered over the desk’s surface. “These,” she said, slapping them against his chest one by one, “are from your various girlfriends hoping for a date tonight.” They fluttered to the floor to land around his feet. “They’ve been calling all day, tying up the damn phone.”

“Malone—”

“And they were rather persistent that you reply right away.” She gave him a sarcastic-sweet smile. “Before I leave, I’ll be sure to let them all know you’re most definitely free!”

“Malone…”

“And this,” she said, throwing a yellow bill at his face, “is for the plumber, because everything backed up and soaked the floor. If it wasn’t for Howard and Jesse helping me mop we’d still be six inches under.”

He started to get a little worried. “Uh, Malone…”

“And that constant banging you hear,” she practically yelled, “is the repair man working on the cooling system. In case you missed it, it’s about ninety degrees in here.”

So that was why she was all warm and damp. Not because she’d been playing so hard? His brow lifted, but she wasn’t through yet. Morgan was aware of Howard and Jesse trying to slip out unnoticed. Casey’s two friends had already slunk as far as the door. Nate was openmouthed beside him, not moving so much as a muscle. Casey, the rat, whistled.

“And finally,” Misty snarled, in a voice straight out of a horror movie, “this is the first break I’ve had all day. The flooding water ruined my lunch, and with no air-conditioning I was too hot to eat, anyway, so Nate got me an ice cream cone to tide me over until dinner. But since you don’t think I should be eating it, why don’t you take it!”

And with that, she aimed the damn thing like a missile, ice cream first, into the middle of his chest. Morgan gasped as the chill hit him, then made a face when he felt the first sticky dribble soak under his collar and mingle with his chest hair.

Casey stopped whistling. “Uh-oh. The fat’s in the fire now.”

Howard and Jesse ran out the door, slamming it behind them.

Nate made a strategic turn and crept out.

Like a stiff, well-trained soldier, Misty tried to troop out after him. Morgan caught her by the arm, pulling her up short. “Oh, no, you don’t.” A clump of ice cream dropped to the floor with a plop. He dragged Misty closer.

He hated to admit it, but her temper turned him on.

He had an erection that actually hurt it was so intense, and every muscle in his body was pulled taut against the need to take her. He stared at her, aroused by the glitter in her eyes, by the way her chest heaved. “I think we should share the cone, Malone.”

Misty reared back, but he caught her other arm, pulling her up close. She stared at his chest, covered in goo, and her lips twitched.

“You think it’s funny?” But he fought his own smile. No, life with Misty would never be mundane.

“I think you got what you deserved.” Her bare heels slipped on the floor as she tried to dig in. She giggled as another plop of ice cream fell loose. “Morgan, no! I mean it, Morgan. Don’t you dare—”

Her words ended in a gasp of outrage as he squished her up against his chest. “Cold, isn’t it?”

She tried to twist free, which only made her breasts slip and slide over his chest. Morgan groaned.

“You…” she started to say breathlessly.

Morgan kissed her. It was a funny kiss, since she was struggling so hard against him, but laughing, too, and they had the damn cone crunching between them, the ice cream fast melting with their combined body heat.

Casey cleared his throat. “I’ll be on my way now. See you both later. No need to see me off.”

Morgan lifted his head. “Get out of here, will you?”

Casey laughed. “I’m going, I’m going.”

Morgan watched as Casey dragged his gawking friends out the door and quietly closed it behind them. Misty tried again to pull loose, and he tightened his hold. “Oh, no, you don’t. I have a few things to say to you.”

She twisted in his arms, realized she couldn’t get free, and stopped squirming. “What?”

He kissed her again. Then against her lips, “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“Mm.” With her mouth open he deepened the kiss, tasting her, making love to her. He groaned when the banging noise suddenly stopped.

As he gasped for breath, she muttered, “You ruined my T-shirt. Now what am I going to wear to work?”

Morgan cradled her head in his palms and asked, “You were going to go to the diner dressed like this?”

“I’m perfectly decent, Morgan, so don’t start again.”

“Dear God, you’ll start a riot.”

“It was your plumbing that ruined my other clothes. Casey was nice enough to bring these to me when I called.”

“I’ll run home and get you something else, okay?”

When she hesitated, he waggled her head. “Have some pity on me, Malone! I’m not used to being jealous, and it’s taking some getting used to here.”

“You really were jealous?”

“What did you think? That I just enjoy making an ass of myself?”

She mumbled, “Well, you do it often enough.” Then she glared at him. “You have some explaining to do, insulting me like that in front of everyone.”

He swallowed hard, still very aware of her soft body lined up along the length of his. “You’re not going to quit on me, are you, just because I yelled a little?”

“I can’t.” She gave him a sad smile. “I need the job.”

Morgan kissed her again, this time gently, because he hated to hear that, to be reminded of her position. “I’m sorry.”

“For embarrassing me?”

“Yeah, though you didn’t seem all that embarrassed to me. More like raging mad.”

“True. On top of everything else, I was suffering my own share of jealousy. I mean, eight calls from women, Morgan.”

“You were jealous?”

She frowned at him. “That, and annoyed. You have very pushy girlfriends.”

He tried to look innocent. “Some of them are probably just friends.”

“Probably? You don’t know?”

He bit his lip, then chuckled. “It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway. I swear. Now tell me you forgive me.”

“Are you sorry for what you said?”

“About your sweet tush? Hell, no. You do have a great—”

“Don’t say it, Morgan!” She laughed. “And about ruining my clothes?”

“Come into the bathroom and I’ll help you clean up.” Then he frowned. “I gather we do have running water now?”

“Yes, but I can clean up without your help. You,” she said, pointing to all the paper littering the floor, “have a lot of calls to return.”

Morgan looked down and saw that he’d stepped all over the message slips.

“You know, Morgan, it suddenly occurs to me.” Her frown was back, her mouth set in mulish lines. “You’re running around insisting every male in the area believes we’re involved, even to the point of putting on this caveman routine. But there seems to be an awful lot of females who don’t know a thing about it.”

“I’ve been too busy mooning over you to give other women a thought. And that includes thinking about them long enough to update my status from available to unavailable.”

He loved how quickly her moods shifted, from mad to playful, from brazen to shy. Right now she looked uncertain. She stared at his chocolate covered chest. “Are you considered unavailable now?”

Morgan tipped her chin up. “For as long as you’re willing to put up with me.”

She stared at him a moment, then pulled him down for a hungry kiss. Her hands were tight on his shoulders, her mouth moving under his. Morgan felt singed. It was the very first time she’d ever initiated anything, and he wanted so badly to strip her naked and sate himself on her, he was shaking with need.

A sudden hum and the kick of cool air let him know the repairs on the system were complete. And just in the nick of time. A few more seconds and he’d have burned up.

“Tonight, will you let me make love to you, Malone?”

She touched his mouth, gave him a small smile, then nodded. “I do believe I’d like that.”

His heart almost stopped. He reached for her, but the repairman gave a brief knock and stepped in.

“All done.” He drew himself up short as Morgan stepped away from Misty and he got a good look at the ice cream mess on their clothes.

Morgan grinned. “Just leave me a bill.”

IT SEEMED TO BE Morgan’s day for chaos.

The rain was endless, coming down in sheets, and he was relieved and thankful when he saw that Misty’s car was already parked around back by the kitchen door, as was her habit. He’d worried endlessly about her driving home in the pouring rain. She’d worked all day and had to be exhausted. He’d hoped to follow her home, then immediately sweep her off to his house. But then he’d gotten held up and the storm had started. He put the truck in park, close to where she’d left her car. Normally he would have driven the Bronco into the garage, but he wanted to be as close to the back door as he could, so Misty wouldn’t have as far to run in the rain.

He sighed as he picked up his small bundle in the front seat beside him, wrapping his rain slicker around it to keep it dry, then dashed the few feet through the downpour.

The kitchen door opened before he reached it, so he figured someone had been watching for him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Misty. No, she was engaged in what appeared to be a heated argument with Sawyer. It was Honey who had opened the door.

He kissed her cheek to thank her, then turned to see what the hell was going on.

Misty went on tiptoe and said to Sawyer’s chin, “If you don’t take the money, I can’t stay!”

Sawyer threw his arms into the air, spotted Morgan and let out a huge sigh of relief. “She’s worse than Honey, I swear.”

Rain dripped down the end of Morgan’s nose. His shirt stuck to his back. He glanced around the kitchen and asked, “Where’s Jordan?”

Sawyer looked surprised by his question, then said, “In his rooms, why?”

Slowly, so as not to startle the creature, he unwrapped his burden. A fat, furry, whimpering pup stared at them all, then squirmed to get closer to Morgan. He said to Honey, “Can you get me a towel? I found the damn thing under the front steps of the gym. He’s been abandoned awhile, judging by how tight his rope collar was.”

Morgan was still so angry he could barely breathe. Cruelty to an animal sickened him, and it was all he could do to hold in his temper, but he didn’t want to scare the poor pup more than it already was.

Sawyer picked up the phone and called Jordan while Misty inched closer. Her eyes were large, and she was looking at him in that soft, womanly way she had. He’d get her alone tonight if he had to carry her through the damn storm.

Honey skittered into the kitchen with a towel.

The back door opened, and both Gabe and Jordan came in. They wore rain slickers that did little enough to keep them dry. Jordan was all business, taking the pup without asking questions, ignoring his own damp hair and shirt collar. Gabe shook his head. “It looks pretty young. What kind of dog do you think it is?”

Jordan murmured to the frightened animal as he gently toweled it dry. “A mixed breed. Part shepherd by the looks of him, maybe with some Saint Bernard. He’ll be big when he’s full grown.” Jordan investigated the pup’s throat and scowled where the too small rope collar had rubbed off much of the fur. “I’ll need my bag.”

Gabe turned to the door. “I’ll get it.” He pulled the hood of his slicker over his head and stepped into the rain without hesitation.

Misty started unbuttoning Morgan’s shirt as if she did so every day. “You’ll catch a cold if you don’t get some dry things on.”

Sawyer nodded. “Go change, Morgan. And take Misty with you. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”

Morgan stood still while Misty peeled off his wet shirt. “What have you been up to now, Malone?”

Sawyer didn’t give her a chance to answer. He waved a few bills under Morgan’s nose. “She wants to pay for staying here.”

Morgan scowled. “I thought we had all that resolved.”

Taking his hand, Misty tugged him from the room. “I won’t be a freeloader. If I stay I have to contribute. I’ve been eating here almost every day….”

Morgan allowed her to lead him away from the others, but the second they were out of sight he pulled her around and pinned her to the wall, then gave her a deep, hungry kiss. Against her lips, he whispered, “Damn, I missed you.”

She looped her arms around his neck and smiled. “I was starting to wonder. I thought you’d be home hours ago.”

“I had to do a class, and one of the women got hurt, and then I found the pup.” He groaned. “God, it’s been a hectic day.”

He knew his wet slacks were making her damp, too, but he couldn’t seem to let her go. He’d thought about her all day long.

“What kind of class?”

Oh, hell. He hadn’t meant to say that. He took her hand and now it was he leading—straight into his bedroom. He closed the door and turned the lock. “Let me change real quick and we’ll run up to the house. I’ll drive you straight into the garage so you won’t get wet.”

“Morgan.” She crossed her arms and leaned against his door while he hunted for a towel to dry himself. “What class?”

Trying to make light of it, he said, “I teach some of the women self-defense two Fridays of the month. Especially the women who work as park guides for the mountain trails. Sometimes they end up alone with a guy, so they need to know how to defend themselves.”

Eyes soft and wide again, Misty asked, “You said one of them got hurt?”

“Yeah, but not in the class. I’m careful with them, and the high school gym lets us use the mats. But she slipped on the front steps when she was leaving and twisted her ankle. She couldn’t drive, so I took her to the hospital and then had to go fetch her husband because they only have the one car and it was still at the high school. The only good part is that I found the pup when she fell. If I hadn’t bent down to lift her, I’d never have heard it whimpering.”

“So you bundled them both up and did what you could?”

“Don’t get dramatic, Malone. Anyone would have done the same.”

“Obviously not, or that poor little puppy wouldn’t have been there in the first place.” She sauntered over to him and touched his bare chest, smoothing her hands over his wet skin. “I don’t think you control things so much as you try to take care of everyone.”

Morgan kicked off his wet shoes even as he bent to kiss her again. Her hands on his flesh were about to make him nuts. “Let me change,” he growled, “so we can get out of here.”

She nodded and stepped away, then sat on the edge of his bed. If she had any idea what that did to him, seeing her there, she wouldn’t have dared test his control. Morgan opened a drawer and pulled out dry jeans and socks. He was just about to unzip his slacks when she asked, “Morgan, am I just another person you’re trying to take care of?”

He halted, unsure of her exact meaning, but angry anyway. “You want to explain that?”

She shrugged, then quickly looked away when he jerked his pants open. Hands clasped in her lap, she said, “You wanted me gone until you thought I needed to stay. And you not only try to coddle me, you said you’re trying to prove me innocent of stealing. I just wondered if I was…I don’t know. Another project of sorts. Like the scholarship at the school, the puppy you just brought home, that other woman you helped today.”

“What other woman?”

“Gabe told me about the woman with the flat. He said you do stuff like that all the time.”

She looked at him with deep admiration again, when what he wanted was something altogether different. “Gabe has a big mouth.”

His dry jeans in place, Morgan sat beside her on the bed. He bent to pull on socks and shoes, his thoughts dark. He could feel her looking at him as he hooked his cell phone to his belt and clipped his gun in place.

“You might as well save it, you know.”

Startled, Morgan glanced at her. “Save what?”

“The look. I’m immune to it. You’re not nearly as much of a badass as you let everyone believe. Ceily told me you haven’t even been in a fight in ages, and the last one was over too quick to count.”

Displeasure gnawed at his insides. “You were talking about me with Ceily?”

“Oh, quit trying to intimidate me.” She waved a hand at him. “You got a reputation when you were a hotheaded kid, but even then, you were never a bully. I’ve heard plenty, and any fights you got into were because you were defending someone else. The last fight was in a bar in the neighboring town. Ceily said some guy tried to drag his girlfriend out of there and you stopped him. Rather easily, as a matter of fact, which I suppose only added to your reputation, right?”

Morgan decided that when he got hold of Ceily he’d strangle her. “Did she also tell you how that woman was most…grateful?”

Misty snorted. “Yeah, she did. But that’s not why you did it, so don’t even bother running that by me. You’re the sheriff now because you hate injustice and abuse and you take a lot of satisfaction in setting things right and taking care of others. Admit it.”

The hell he would. His reputation had worked to his advantage for most of his life, and he’d damn well earned it. He pulled a loose black T-shirt over his head then twisted to face her. “You still going to the house with me?”

Her dark, silky hair swung forward and hid her profile as she stared at her hands. She looked a tiny bit nervous. “If you want me to.”

Morgan caught her chin and turned her face toward him. “What do you want?”

She bit her lip, took a deep breath, then smiled. “To be with you.”

His heart punched up against his breastbone and his vision blurred. He stood up before he decided to forget about the tour and took her right now. They needed privacy, not for what he wanted to do, but for all the things he wanted to say. “C’mon.”

Her hand caught securely in his, he led her out of the room. She looked cuddly in a soft, oversize sweatshirt and worn, faded jeans. Unfortunately, she wore sneakers, but he’d keep her feet dry. He looked forward to holding her close. When they got into the kitchen, everyone leaned over watching Jordan and the pup. Now that it was dry, the dog resembled a round matted fur ball with a snout and paws. A stubby tail managed to work back and forth, and it gave a squeaky bark at Morgan.

Morgan grinned. The dog was incredibly cute in an ugly, sort of bedraggled way. “Is it going to be okay?”

“It is a he, about three months old, I’d say, and yeah, he’ll be fine. He just needs to be cleaned up and loved a little.”

Morgan nodded. It was obvious the poor thing had been abandoned, and if he ever found out who’d done it, a very hefty fine would be presented. “I’ll keep him. I was thinking of getting a dog anyway, for when I move into the house. This one’ll do as well as any.” At his pronouncement, Misty squeezed his hand.

Honey predictably grumbled about him moving out. She protested any time he mentioned it, saying she wanted him to stay, then went on to tell him how wonderful his house was and offered to help him decorate. He adored her.

Jordan watched as Morgan pulled two raincoats off the hooks. “I can keep him with me tonight if you want, since you appear to have plans to brave the storm again.”

“Misty hasn’t seen my house yet.”

The brothers all grinned and cast knowing looks back and forth.

Sawyer handed Morgan the money Misty had tried to give him. “Make her take this back.”

Misty held up her hands, palms out. “I can’t continue to eat here if you won’t let me pay for my share of the food and stuff. That’s just tip money—I can afford it. Honest.”

Sawyer’s eyebrows shot up. “Tips? You made this much in tips already?”

“According to Ceily,” Morgan grumbled, “every male that came in wanted to show her his gratitude, even if she hadn’t done a damn thing for him. She said Misty kept the restaurant packed most of the night.”

Misty blinked at him. “You talked to Ceily? When?”

He flicked the end of her nose. “Before I came home. She felt the need to page me and let me know how…successful you were. She even suggested she might want to lure you away from the station so you could work more hours for the diner. She claims she wouldn’t even need to show up with you there drawing in customers and raking in the dough.”

Gabe laughed, Jordan bit his lip and Sawyer rolled his eyes. Morgan didn’t think it was the least bit amusing. “I told her you were going to continue working for me. That’s right, isn’t it, Misty?”

Her eyes narrowed. “As long as you all let me pay my way.”

She was the most cursed stubborn woman he’d ever met. He caught her chin on the edge of his fist. “Most of the time, the food is given to us.”

With a wholly skeptical look, she murmured, “Uh-huh.”

“It’s true, damn it. Sawyer barters with his less fortunate patients. Hell, he gets paid more often with food than with money. That’s why we’re always overloaded with desserts and casseroles.”

“You’re serious?” When he nodded, she said, “I had no idea.”

Sawyer looped one arm around Honey and added, “I have vitamins I can give her, too, so she won’t have to go to the pharmacy, but of course she refused them.”

And Honey piped in, saying, “I know for a fact she’s embarrassed about getting them in town. Everyone will know she’s pregnant if she does. Make her accept them, Morgan.”

Morgan took one look at Misty’s inflexible expression and laughed out loud. Were they all under the misguided notion that he had some control over the woman? Hell, she butted heads with him more than anyone else!

Knowing it would only prompt her stubbornness more, he said, “Yeah, sure, I’ll take care of it.”

Her brows snapped down, her mouth opened to blast him with invective, and Morgan kissed her—a quick, grinning smooch. She gave him a bemused look, and he dropped the coat over her head, then lifted her in his arms.

She fussed and wriggled, but he contained her with no effort at all and when she saw all the brothers watching intently, she made a face at them, but at least stopped struggling. “You have the worst habit of hauling me around.”

“I don’t want your feet to get wet going out.”

“Oh.”

Sawyer said, “Finally, he’s listening to me.”

Honey acted as if it was all par for the course. “Here, Misty, I packed a basket so you could both eat. I doubt if either of you have had dinner yet. Take your time. You’ll love Morgan’s house and maybe the rain will have stopped by the time you head back.”

Morgan watched Misty balance the large basket with one arm while looping the other around his neck. “Don’t wait up for us,” he said to the room at large.

He darted out the door and made his way cautiously to the Bronco. Misty opened the car door, and he slid her inside. The rain wasn’t coming down quite so fiercely now, and Morgan hoped Honey was right, that it would stop soon. Too many wrecks happened in weather like this, and he didn’t look forward to his evening getting interrupted. Already his anticipation was so keen he had to struggle for breath. He was semihard and so hot the windows started to steam the second he got behind the wheel.

“Will you accept the vitamins?” He drove from the driveway to the main road, hoping the conversation would work as a distraction. “Sawyer offered them because he wants to, you know.”

With her arms around the basket, she grumbled, “He offered because I’m Honey’s sister.”

“Bull. If you’d just stumbled into our lives the way Honey did, he’d do the same. Sawyer cares about people and likes doing what he can. It has nothing to do with you being related. Except that he takes it more personal when you refuse.”

She shook her head. “All right, fine. I’ll take the vitamins, but I insist on paying my own way. I won’t be swayed on that. Regardless of where the food comes from, I’m still staying there and taking up room.”

Morgan smiled at her. “Stubborn as a mule.” He pulled up in front of his garage and hopped out to open the door, then drove inside. “I’m going to have the driveway poured soon, and then we’ll install a garage door opener, but that’s stuff I can take care of after I move in.”

Misty didn’t wait for him to open her door after he’d turned off the engine. She hefted the heavy basket in her arms and climbed out. “I want to see the outside of the house, too. From down the hill, it looks gorgeous.”

Morgan felt like a stuffed turkey, he puffed up so proud. “Let’s go through the inside first and maybe the rain will let up.” He opened the door leading into the house and reached in for a light switch. The first-floor laundry looked tidy and neat, a replica of the one in the house where he’d grown up, with pegs on the wall for wet coats and hats, a boot-storage bench and plenty of shelving. “All the fixtures aren’t up yet, but there’s plenty of light.”

He turned to look at Misty and caught her wide-eyed expression of awe as she stared from the laundry room into the kitchen. “Oh, Morgan.”

Like a sleepwalker, she went through the doorway and turned a circle. “This is incredible.”

The kitchen had an abundance of light oak cabinets, high ceilings with track lighting and three skylights. Right now, the rain made it impossible to see anything but the blackness of the sky, but Morgan knew on a sunny day the entire kitchen would glow warmly, and in the evening, you’d feel like the stars were right on top of you.

“C’mon. I’ll show you around.” He took the basket from her and set it on the counter.

She kept staring at his cathedral ceilings. “I love the design. It’s like you’re in a house, but not, you know? Everything is so open.”

“I don’t like closed-in spaces.” He laced her fingers with his own and said casually, “I figure it’s easier to keep an eye on kids when they aren’t behind doors getting into mischief. Other than the four bedrooms and the two baths, all the doorways are arches.”

She stalled for a moment inside the dining room. He turned to look at her, and she shook her head. “How many kids do you plan on having?”

He held her gaze and said, “Three sounds about right. What do you think?”

Her fingers tightened on his and she said quietly, “I think I’ll worry about raising this one before I even contemplate adding any more.”

He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to worry, that she wouldn’t need to raise the baby on her own, but he had to bide his time. He didn’t want to scare her off. “I don’t have the dining-room furniture yet. I’m still working on that.”

She went to a window and looked out. “The view of the lake is gorgeous.”

“Yeah. Back here in the coves the lake is almost always calm, not like farther up where all the vacationers keep it churning with boats and swimming and skiing. It’s peaceful, nothing more disturbing than an occasional fishing boat.”

“I bet in the fall it’s really something to see.”

“Yeah. And in the winter, too, when everything is iced over. I figure I’ll need to hire someone to keep all the windows clear, but what’s the point of living on a hill with great scenery if you can’t see it? The view from the master bedroom is nice, too.” He slipped that in, then added, “The deck runs all the way around the house.”

The next room was the living room and he watched her inspect his choice of furniture, wondering if she’d like it.

“Everything looks so cozy, but elegant, too.”

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck. When he’d chosen the blue-gray sofa and two enormous cranberry-colored chairs, elegance hadn’t entered his mind. It was the saleslady who’d suggested the patterned throw pillows to “pull it all together.” He’d been going strictly for comfort. The softness and large dimensions of the furniture had appealed to him. “I’m glad you like it.”

“You could fill this place up with plants. You know, like you did around the fireplace at the station.”

Morgan watched her closely as he admitted, “One of the women I used to see on occasion brought in those plants. I’d never have thought of it. It’s the cleaning lady that keeps them watered and healthy.”

She sent him a narrow-eyed look over the mention of a girlfriend. “Well, I can just imagine a lot of plants really blending in here. With the stone fireplace and the light from the windows, it’d be great. What do you think?”

“I think maybe you should help me pick some out.”

She blinked at him in surprise, then smiled. “I’d love to.”

Satisfied on that score, he took her hand and continued on the tour. He opened the first door they came to. “This is the hall bath.”

Misty stuck her head in the door, and her mouth fell open. “It’s…decadent.”

Grinning, Morgan gently shoved her the rest of the way in. “Yeah. I kinda like it. Other than my bedroom, it’s my favorite room. It turned out just the way I wanted.”

Morgan watched her run her hand over the cream-colored tiled walls, the dual marble vanity. A large, raised tub took up one entire corner, looking much like a small pool. You could see the water jets inside the tub, and all the fixtures were brass. There was a skylight right above it and a shelf surrounding it for lotions and towels and candles—things he’d noticed Honey was partial to, so he assumed other women would be, too. In the adjacent corner was a shower with two showerheads, one on either side of the stall.

Honey was a hedonist when it came to her baths—the woman could linger for hours. He’d assumed most women were the same, but Misty tended to take quick showers, just as he did. He frowned with that thought, until he considered showering with her, and then his breath caught. He eyed the shower. It was plenty big enough to make love in….

“It’s beautiful, Morgan.”

He shifted his shoulders, trying to ease the sexual tension that had invaded his muscles. “I still have to get towels and stuff, but I figured there was no rush on that.”

Tentatively, without quite looking at him, she said, “I could help with that, too, if you want.”

Morgan stared at her, then swung her around and gave her a hard, quick kiss. “Thanks,” he said in a gruff tone, his throat raw with some unnamed emotion that he didn’t dare examine too closely. It was based on sexual need, but there was a lot of other more complicated stuff thrown in that he didn’t understand at all.

Misty looked at his mouth, drew a slow broken breath and then licked her lips. Morgan was a goner. Backing her into the cool tile wall, he took her mouth again, this time more thoroughly, then didn’t want to stop kissing her. She felt perfect, tasted perfect. She made him feel weak when that had never happened before, but she also made him feel almost brutal with driving need. He wanted to devour her, and he wanted to cherish her.

She arched against him and he cupped her rounded backside with a groan. “Damn, Malone.”

In a husky, laughing tone, she asked, “Are you ever going to use my first name?”

She sounded a bit breathless, and he forced himself to loosen his hold. Sawyer was right; she’d been through a lot, and even the strongest woman in the world needed time to adjust. “Malone suits you. It sounds gutsy and sexy and a little dangerous.”

She allowed him to lead her from the room, but she asked, “Dangerous? Me?”

With his arm around her shoulders, his heart still galloping wildly, he steered her to the first empty bedroom. “To my libido, yeah.”

The first three bedrooms were empty, but still Misty oohed over the tall windows and the ultrasoft carpet and the oak moldings. Morgan felt as if he might explode by the time he got her to his room. There were no curtains yet on the French doors that flanked the tall windows, almost filling an entire wall. The doors led to a wide, covered deck. The overhang wasn’t quite sufficient to shield them from the wind, and the rain blew gently against the glass. “Let me show you something.”

Without hesitation she came into the room and went to the wall of windows with him. “Look at the lights on the lake. Isn’t it beautiful?”

She stared into the darkness for long minutes, then finally nodded. “Yes.”

“I’ve always enjoyed the lake, the way sunlight glints on every tiny ripple, and how the evening lights along the shore turn into colored ribbons across the water. Even on stormy days, it’s great to watch. The waves lap up over the retaining wall and every so often the lake swells enough to cover my dock. The fish get frisky on those days and you can see them leaping up into the air and landing again with a splash. On my next day off I’ll take you boating and we can swim in the cove. Would you like that?”

She continued to gaze into the rainy night. “I’ve always loved being outdoors, and around water. When I was younger, we had a sailboat. My dad would take us out about twice a year, but mostly he used the yacht for entertaining his guests or business associates.”

Morgan hugged her from behind, knowing her relationship with her father had been far from ideal. “I don’t have a yacht, but I think you’ll like our boat. Or rather boats—we have three. An inboard for waterskiing, which Gabe uses more than anyone else. He’s as much fish as man. And a fishing boat with a trolling motor, which is so slow you could probably paddle faster. And a pontoon. My mother bought the pontoon and left it here, but whenever she visits she takes it out.”

Misty leaned her head back to look at him. “I didn’t know you had a gazebo.”

The gazebo was only barely visible in the darkening sky, a massive shadow on the level ground fifteen feet off the shore of the lake. He’d had electricity run down there so a bug light could hang inside the high ceiling, though it wasn’t lit now.

Morgan kissed her temple and looped his arms around her middle so that his hands rested protectively over her belly. “I had Gabe build it for me.” His fingers contracted the tiniest bit, fondling her gently.

She sucked in her breath, and her hands settled over his. “When?”

In a hoarse tone, he explained, “After that night I kissed you at the wedding. In the gazebo.”

She twisted in his arms. “But…you’d asked me to leave then.”

He searched her gaze. There was no accusation there, just confusion. “I wanted you to stay.” Very gently, he pulled her closer. “Damn, I wanted you to stay.”

Her smile was shaky, and then she touched the side of his face. “I have to tell you something about me.”

Morgan leaned forward and nuzzled the soft skin beneath her chin. He felt wound too tight, edgy and aroused and full to bursting. He tasted the silky skin of her throat, her collarbone. He didn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue.

He felt the deep breath she took. “You’re a special treat for me, Morgan.”

He grinned at that and continued to put soft, damp kisses on her throat, beneath her chin, near her shoulder. He felt her tremble and held her closer.

“I want you to understand what this means to me.”

He leaned back to look at her. She appeared far too serious and solemn to suit him.

“I know that an unwed pregnant woman sort of gives the impression of being experienced—”

“Damn it, Misty, I didn’t—”

She pressed her fingers to his mouth. “Just listen, okay?” He nodded reluctantly and she continued. “Truth is, I haven’t had much experience at all. Back in high school I got very curious, and we experimented a little. Very little, actually. Things didn’t last long with him, but it was no big heartbreak.”

Very carefully, Morgan pulled her earlobe between his teeth. She shuddered.

“And then there was Kent. I’d only been with him a few times, but we were careful. It’s just that the condom broke—”

He squeezed her tight, cutting off her spate of confessions. “Enough.”

Jealousy washed through him. The idea of her with a kid in high school was bad enough; his brain nearly overflowed with visions of her being groped in the back seat of a car, making him hazy with anger. But to think of her as a grown woman with a man she’d thought she loved…A man who had gotten her pregnant, then turned away from her. He could barely tolerate the idea.

“I don’t need to have an accounting for past lovers, Malone.” He growled those words against her ear, then added, “I don’t care about any of that.”

She wriggled loose so she could see him. “But that’s just it. I don’t have much of an accounting to give. Not because I’m so particular, and not because I think it’s wrong. It’s because no one ever really made me want him. Not the way you do.”

Emotion nearly clogged his throat. Morgan hugged her right off her feet. “You don’t have to worry, baby. I’ll take care of you. I won’t hurt you.”

She pushed against his shoulders. “Morgan, you don’t understand.”

Morgan lowered her to the floor with him so that they faced each other on their knees. Misty’s eyes were dark and wide and even in the dim light he could see her excitement. He slipped his hand under the hem of her sweatshirt and stroked her bare waist. Very softly, he said, “Explain it to me then.”

Morgan hoped she was about to give him a clue to her feelings. She hadn’t balked at the idea of helping him decorate, but neither had she seemed to realize why he wanted her help. And his comment about kids had gone completely over her head: in order for him to have those three kids, he’d need her cooperation, because no other woman would do.

She hesitated, her chest rising and falling in fast breaths, then she blurted, “I want to get my fill of you.”

A wave of lust washed over him, making him tremble. That was not what he’d been expecting, or even hoping for. But it might do.

“You’re so open about sex and how you feel,” Misty explained, “that I don’t have to worry about my old inhibitions or any of that stuff. I don’t have to worry about what you’ll think of me, or if I’ll offend you.” She touched his face with a trembling hand. “I want to do everything to you that I’ve been imagining doing. I want to let go completely.”

Morgan swallowed hard, struggling to come up with a coherent reply.

It wasn’t necessary. Misty launched herself at him, her hands holding his ears while she kissed him hungrily. He felt her small tongue in his mouth, felt her sharp little teeth nip his bottom lip. With a harsh groan, he rolled to his back, keeping her pinned against his chest, and she touched him all over, her hands busy and curious and bold.

He thought of all the things he’d meant to say to her, but at the moment, none of them seemed important.

Morgan made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh. She didn’t care if she amused him. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” she told him between kisses. “It’s awful to want someone that bad.”

“Tell me about it.” He worked her sweatshirt up until he could pull it over her head. She lifted her arms to help him, not feeling a single twinge of shyness. Not with Morgan.

As soon as the shirt was out of the way, Morgan reached for her. His hands were so large and rough and hot, and she moaned as he cuddled her breasts in his palms. His thumbs stroked over her nipples and she felt wild at the sweet ache his touch caused. “This is almost scary.”

“No.” Morgan brought her back down for another kiss, but she dodged him.

“I want your shirt off, too.” He was such a big hulk that there was no way she could get his clothes off him without his cooperation. She slid to the side and tugged his shirt free of his jeans. Morgan curled upward, making the muscles in his stomach do interesting things, and he threw the shirt off. She’d seen his chest many times, but now was different. Now she was allowed to touch and taste and have her way with him.

Misty attacked the snap on his jeans.

“Slow down, babe.”

“No, I don’t want to. I kept telling myself I couldn’t do this, but then I realized there was no way I could not do it. I want you too much. I doubt I’ll ever meet another man who makes me feel this way.”

“Damn right you won’t.” Morgan caught her hands and pulled them away from his zipper. “Kiss me again.”

She gladly complied. And while she was kissing him, licking his mouth, tasting his heat and feeling the dampness of his tongue, the smoothness of his teeth, Morgan rolled her to her back. The plush carpeting cushioned her.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Malone.”

She pulled him closer, breathing deeply of his scent. “You won’t.”

“The baby…”

Everything seemed to go still with his words. Morgan loomed over her, heat pulsing off him, his dark blue eyes burning hot, his hair mussed. There was so much concern and tenderness in his gaze that she felt tears well in her eyes. Misty touched his cheek, then his wide, hard chest. She let one finger drift over a small brown nipple and heard his sharp intake. “I want you naked, Morgan.”

His head dropped forward and he labored for breath.

“You won’t hurt me, I promise.” She watched the way his wide shoulders flexed, how the muscles in his neck corded. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, and if I’m going to do this—”

His gaze snapped to hers. “You are.”

“—then I want to do everything. Why take a risk unless you make it worthwhile?”

The look on his face was almost pained before he deliberately wiped it away. “I’m not a risk, babe.”

Misty didn’t want to tell him that he was the biggest risk she’d ever taken. She loved him so much, even more than she desired him. Around him her heart felt vulnerable and soft and a little wounded because she wished so badly she could have met him months ago. He could break her so easily.

She shook her head, willing to tease him to chase her dark thoughts away. This wasn’t a time for wariness, but a time to break free. “I’ve never had an excellent lover, Morgan.” She slipped her fingers down his side, over his hip. “I want you to be excellent.”

His teeth flashed in the darkness and his hand smoothed over her hair, then tucked it behind her ear. “You know how to put on the pressure, don’t you?”

“Are you intimidated?”

He snorted. After staring at her for a long moment, he shifted to sit up. His gaze strayed to her body again and again while he pulled off his shoes and socks and laid his cell phone aside. “So you want to see all of me?”

“Yes.”

“Should I turn on some lights?”

Misty laughed. How she could recognize humor while burning up with need was amazing. Morgan made her hungry, and he amused her, and he made her feel special and cherished in so many ways.

But then, he did that for a lot of people.

“With no curtains on the windows?” she asked. “Don’t you think that might be unwise? What if someone is out there and they see you prancing around in the buff?”

He chuckled, but the sound was strained as he stared at her breasts. “I don’t prance, Malone. And there’s no one out there on a night like this.”

She pretended to consider his offer, then said, “No, let’s leave the lights off.” She’d definitely be more daring without too much illumination. She needed the shadows to enjoy herself fully. At least this first time.

Morgan shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

“That’s the spirit.” Her laugh ended on a gasp when he came to his knees and carefully pulled down his zipper, easing it around a rather large, hard erection. She didn’t want to laugh now. No, she just wanted to watch. And touch.

And taste.

Without any signs of modesty, Morgan slowly shucked his jeans and underwear down his hips, then sat back and pulled them the rest of the way off. “Now you,” he rumbled, and leaned forward to do the job himself.

Misty stared at his naked body and felt the warmth build beneath her skin, felt her womb tighten, her breasts ache. His hips were a shade lighter than the rest of his sun-darkened skin, the flesh looking smooth and hard, taut with muscle. Crisp curling hair covered his chest and tapered into a downy line on his abdomen. She felt a little lecherous eyeing his swollen erection and wondered how it would feel to touch him there.

Belatedly, Misty remembered that she wanted to be a full participant, not a passive one. She toed off her sneakers, then came up onto her elbows as Morgan worked the button of her pants loose and started on her zipper. “Would you rather I strip? It’ll be easier.”

Morgan froze for a heartbeat, then shook his head. “I’d never live through it. The fact you’re not wearing a bra is already more than any man should have to deal with.”

“You wanted me to wear a bra.”

His hand opened over her belly and caressed her lightly, smoothing over her skin, dipping quickly into her belly button, then sliding beneath her open jeans to palm her buttocks. She reached for his erection and wrapped her hand around him.

He was hard and hot and silky. He flexed in her hand, and she tightened her hold.

With a groan, Morgan hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans. His voice was gravelly and low when he spoke. “Unveiling you slowly would have been better for my system. Saving me the shock, you know?”

Misty ignored his words, enthralled with the velvety feel of him. “Do you like this, Morgan?” She squeezed him carefully, heard his rough gasp. “You’ll have to give me some direction, okay?”

He had her jeans as far as her knees and he paused to tilt his head back and suck in deep breaths. “Harder.”

Misty’s heartbeat drummed at his growled command. She tightened her hand and stroked him again. “Like this?” she whispered.

Morgan suddenly caught her wrist and pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take it.” He kissed her knuckles and placed her hand next to her head on the floor. “You need to do some catching up, sweetheart, so keep those soft little hands to yourself for a few minutes, okay?”

Nodding, Misty lifted her hips so he could pull her jeans the rest of the way off. Morgan pushed them aside, and immediately bent down to kiss the top of her right thigh. “Damn, you smell good,” he muttered as he nuzzled her hipbone, her belly, leaving warm damp kisses on her skin.

Misty shifted, not sure if she should protest or not. He’d taken the lead, but she loved how he looked at her, the husky timbre of his voice.

“Open your legs.”

“Morgan…”

“Shh. Trust me, okay?”

It seemed as though her heartbeat shook her entire body. Around her nervousness, her excitement, she whispered, “I do trust you. I always have.”

Morgan looked down at her, making her feel exposed and agitated and eager. He wedged her thighs apart and settled between them. He stared into her eyes and cupped her breasts. His solid abdomen pressed warmly against her mound, making her arch the tiniest bit. Her thighs were opened wide around his waist.

Misty nearly choked on a deep breath when he lowered his head and sucked one nipple deep into his mouth. Her back arched involuntarily, but Morgan took advantage of the movement to slip his arm beneath her, keeping her raised for his mouth. He shifted to her other breast, making her moan with the sharp tingle of a gentle bite.

“I could spend an hour,” he whispered, “just on your breasts.”

Misty tangled her fingers in his hair. “I told you I wanted to do some things.”

“We’ll take turns.”

He went back to her nipple, and true to his word, he seemed insatiable, tasting her, licking her, sucking her deep. Each gentle tug of his mouth was felt in her entire body. His tongue was both rough and incredibly soft on her aroused flesh. When he finally lifted himself away from her, she could barely keep still. Her nipples were swollen and wet, and she covered them with her own hands, trying to appease the throbbing ache.

Morgan growled at the sight of her touching herself and began kissing his way down her abdomen. When he reached her belly, he paused, then rested his cheek there. “I can’t believe there’s a baby in here,” he whispered. “You’re so slim.”

Misty choked on an explosion of emotion, so touched by the way he accepted her and her condition. “I…I’m bigger than I used to be. I’ve gained seven pounds.” It amazed her that he didn’t seem the least put off by her pregnancy. Kent had been disgusted and repulsed by the idea, but Morgan seemed more intrigued and concerned than anything else.

He placed a gentle kiss on her navel, then slipped his hands under her thighs and opened her legs wide. “Bend your knees for me, sweetheart. That’s it. A little wider.”

She felt horribly exposed with her legs sprawled so wide, his warm breath touching her most sensitive flesh. He was looking at her, studying her, and it embarrassed her even as it excited her almost unbearably.

Knowing what would happen, overcome with curiosity and carnal need, Misty dropped her head on the carpet and stared at the heavily shadowed ceiling.

The first damp stroke of his hot tongue felt like live lightning. She jerked, but he held her still and licked again. She groaned. Morgan used his thumbs to open her completely and tasted her deeply, without reserve.

“Oh God.”

“So sweet,” he murmured, and anything else he said was lost behind her moans.

She couldn’t hold still, couldn’t think straight. His fingers glided over her wet swollen tissues, dipping inside every now and again, but not enough to make the building ache go away. His tongue did the same, lapping softly, then stabbing into her.

“Morgan, please…”

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he murmured hotly, and even his breath made her wild.

But then she gasped as he began working two fingers deep into her. Moving against him, she tried to make him hurry, tried to make him go deeper.

“You’re so tight,” he murmured and she heard the repressed tension in his voice.

“Morgan.”

His mouth closed over her throbbing clitoris, sucking gently while his fingers stroked in and out, and she was lost. She cried out, thankful that they were alone, that he’d had the sense to insure their privacy, because she wanted to yell, needed to yell. Nothing had ever felt like this, so powerful and sweet and so much pleasure it was nearly too much to bear.

Morgan moved up over her, settling his hips gently against hers. His hands cupped her face until her eyes opened. “I’m going to come into you now.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me if I—”

“You won’t hurt me.” If he didn’t get on with it, she might be forced to rape him. A gentle pulsing from her recent climax still shook her, but she wanted more, she wanted it all, she wanted Morgan.

“Put your legs around me.”

As soon as she’d gotten her shaky limbs to work, he smothered her mouth with his own and pushed cautiously into her. Her body bowed, trying to accommodate him, then wilted as he sank deep, entering her completely. His raw groan echoed her own.

A moment of suspended pleasure and building anticipation held them both, then he began moving in deep, gentle thrusts. He stayed slightly propped up on his elbows rather than giving her his weight. Misty tried to protest, wrapping her arms tight around him and doing her best to bring him to her.

“No, sweetheart. I’m too heavy,” he panted, his jaw tight, his shoulders bunched. His eyes blazed at her and he kept kissing her, as if he couldn’t get enough; deep, hungry kisses and gentle, tender kisses.

Even now, he was being so careful with her. Her heart swelled painfully. “Please, Morgan.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched, and the sight of him, so strong, so powerful, and so gentle, added to the physical pleasure and made her climax again with a suddenness that took her breath away. She strained against him, her thighs tightening, her fingers digging into his powerful shoulders. The second her muscles tightened around his erection, Morgan cursed, then gave up the struggle.

He allowed her to pull him down and pressed his face into her throat, hugging her closer still, his big body straining and shuddering as he came.

For long moments he rested against her, dragging in air, his body gradually relaxing. She felt him kiss her throat…and she felt his smile.

Misty squeezed him again. She didn’t know what she had expected, but the contentment, the happiness, the peace nearly overwhelmed her. “That was wonderful,” she whispered to him, needing to say the words. “You were wonderful.”

As though it took a great effort, Morgan slowly struggled up onto his elbows and smiled down at her. “So you’re satisfied?”

She bit her lip, then slowly shook her head. “No, never.”

Morgan blinked at her, then threw his head back and laughed. “Damn, Malone, I never thought I’d like hearing those two words leave your lips.”

She touched his mouth with a finger. She no longer vibrated with need, but the curiosity was still there, and the love. “What you did to me, Morgan? I want to do that to you, too.”

Morgan jerked. He breathed deep and he cursed and he shuddered. Finally he just laughed again, the sound low and rough. “From the moment I met you I knew on a gut level exactly how things would be with you.”

“Did you?” When Morgan smiled, he made her want to smile, too.

“Yeah. Why do you think I’ve been going so crazy? I’m glad to see I wasn’t wrong.”

He rolled onto his back so that she was perched above him. His grin was so wicked and so lecherous, she almost blushed. “Now,” he said.

And before she could ask him, “Now what?” his cell phone rang.

IT WAS ALMOST two in the morning by the time he got home, and he felt exhausted down to his soul. A three-car mishap had dragged him out of Misty’s arms. Luckily no one was seriously hurt, but he was still pissed off. A few idiots from the next county over drank too much and tried joyriding over their deeper roads. They’d taken out not only a length of fence along Carl Webb’s property, but they’d also knocked over a telephone pole. Cows had wandered loose in the road and into the neighboring field, Carl had been infuriated—and rightfully so—and many people had been without phone service.

In the pouring rain, it was damn inconvenient trying to sort everything out. One of the fools had a concussion, the other a broken nose. Morgan thought they deserved at least that much, though they’d both whined and complained endlessly.

He hadn’t had a chance to say anything to Misty. He’d made love to her, and he’d made her laugh, but he hadn’t told her that he wanted her to stick around as a permanent member of the family. He hadn’t told her that he wanted her to be with him forever.

And she hadn’t said a thing about how she felt, other than that she’d enjoyed making love with him. That was just dandy, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close.

He kicked off his muddy boots just inside the kitchen doorway and made his way through the silent house to his room. His wet clothes went into a hamper and a warm shower helped to relieve his aching muscles, but not his aching head. He needed some sleep, but as he threw back the top sheet, the thought of climbing into his big bed all alone didn’t appeal to him one bit. He glanced at the door, thought of Misty all warm and snuggled up in her own bed, and it felt like that fat elephant was on his chest again.

He stood there undecided, at the side of the bed for a full three minutes before cursing and pulling on underwear. Grumbling all the way down the hall, he got to Misty’s room and started to knock, then changed his mind. The doorknob turned easily and the door swung open on silent hinges. He could barely see Misty curled on top of the mattress, her room nothing but shifting moon shadows as the trees swayed outside with the wind. But he could hear her soft, even breathing. She was likely exhausted and he promised himself he wouldn’t keep her awake, but he wanted to hold her and there was no longer any reason to deny himself.

When he stood next to her bed she shifted and yawned, then opened her eyes to look at him. Immediately she sat up, shoving her silky hair out of her face. “Morgan? What’s wrong? Did you just get in?”

Her normally deep voice was even rougher with sleep, and sexy as hell. “Yeah.” He bent and scooped her out of the bed, lifted her up against his bare chest, and started out of the room. She had on a thin knee-length cotton gown, and her warm, sweet scent clung to her skin, making him regret his resolve to let her rest.

She tucked her face under his chin. “Where are we going?”

“To my room. I want to hold you while I sleep.”

She made a soft, humming sound of pleasure and curled closer. As he toed her door closed from the hallway, he heard another door open. He turned, Misty held tight in his arms, to see Casey leaving the bathroom.

Casey blinked, then quickly averted his gaze. “I didn’t see a thing.”

“Make sure you don’t repeat a thing, either.”

Casey waved him off, too sleepy to care. Misty groaned. “How do you always embarrass me like this?”

“Why would you be embarrassed?” He went down the hall to his room and once inside he nudged the door closed. He didn’t immediately put her in the bed; he liked the feel of her in his arms, the trusting way she accepted him.

“What will Casey think?”

“That I’ve got too much sense to sleep alone with you nearby.” When she didn’t comment on that he turned her slightly to see her face. Her eyes were closed, her expression relaxed. Not really wanting to, he gently lowered her to the mattress and climbed in beside her. “Sleep, sweetheart. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Before he could pull her against him, she had her arm around his waist, her head on his shoulder and one thigh covering his. And damn, it felt right. He wanted to sleep this way every night for the rest of his life.

Misty kissed his chest. “I’m awake now, you know.”

Her voice was even huskier, and he eyed her in the darkness. “Shh. Don’t tempt me. It’s late and we both need some sleep.” And he fully intended to explain a few things to her before he made love to her again.

Her soft little hand slipped down his stomach, making him suck in a deep breath. “Malone,” he growled in warning. “Behave yourself.”

She sat up, and he expected her to start arguing. He grinned, wondering what she would say, if she’d come right out and admit that she wanted him enough to force the issue.

Instead, she shifted around, and when she curled up against him again, she was naked. She shimmied onto his chest, cupped his face in both hands and said teasingly, “Don’t make me get rough with you, Morgan.”

He stroked the long, silky line of her back to her lush bottom and gave up. “All right, but be gentle with me. I’ve had a trying night.” She laughed at that, her first kiss kind of ticklish and silly. But he had both hands on her bottom now and the second his fingers started to explore she groaned, and for the next hour neither one of them thought of sleep.

MORNING SUNLIGHT nearly blinded him when he heard Misty’s soft, pain-filled moan. He immediately sat up to look at her. She had both hands holding her middle, her mouth pinched shut and her eyes closed. She looked pale. He said very quietly, “Morning sickness?”

She gave a brief nod. “It hasn’t been this bad lately. But I don’t usually wake up with a hairy thigh over my belly, either.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Morgan shifted away from her, trying not to shake the bed overly, then said, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “Malone?”

“All right.”

He pulled on jeans and darted into the kitchen. Honey was there, and Casey and Gabe. They all smiled at him and treated him to a round of inanities. He grumbled his own greetings, then stuck bread in the toaster and water on to boil. He glanced at Casey, who pursed his mouth, silently assuring Morgan he hadn’t said a word about Misty.

Not that it mattered now, anyway. The world would soon know how he felt about that woman.

“What exactly are you doing?” Gabe asked as Morgan dug out a tea bag. Everyone in the family knew for a fact he wasn’t a tea drinker.

“Misty has morning sickness. Mom said nibbling on dry toast and sipping sweet hot tea before she got out of bed would help.”

“Ah.”

Honey started to rise from her chair. “If Misty’s sick—”

Gabe caught her arm, earning Morgan’s gratitude. “It’s nothing Morgan can’t handle. Isn’t that right, Morgan?”

“It’s under control.” He set the toast and tea on a tray and left the room. He heard Gabe chuckling, then some whispering, but he didn’t care. He was going to ask Misty to marry him, so they could gossip all they wanted.

Misty was still flat on her back in the bed when he reached her side. “I have a remedy here. First, nibble a few bites of toast…that’s it. No, don’t argue. I promise, it’ll help.”

Crumbs landed on her chest, and he brushed them away. He imagined he’d have to change his sheets more often if this ritual continued, though his mother had claimed the morning sickness usually didn’t last that long. Generally not past the first trimester, and Misty should be about through that.

“Now some hot tea.”

“I hate tea.”

“Tough. It’ll help. And I made this real sweet.”

She sipped carefully while he held her head, then sighed. “Not bad.”

After several minutes of repeating the procedure, she cautiously sat up and smiled. “You’re a miracle worker. I won’t even need to sneak off to the lake.”

Morgan smoothed her hair, thinking she was about the most precious-looking woman first thing in the morning, with her eyes puffy, a crease on her cheek from the pillow. He frowned at himself. “If you ever do want to go to the lake, let me know and I’ll keep you company, okay?”

Instead of answering him, she asked, “You’ve taken care of a lot of pregnant ladies, huh?”

“No, you’re my first. Why?”

“How’d you know the toast and tea would help?”

She was naked under the sheet, which barely kept her nipples concealed. Now that she no longer felt sick, talking required major concentration on his part. “I asked my mother.”

She jumped so hard she spilled her tea. Yep, his sheets were in for a lot of washing.

He eyed the spill on the top sheet and started to pull it away from her before she got soaked, but she gripped it tightly to her chin and glared at him. “You did what?”

She sounded like a frog. “I asked my mother. I figured she had four kids so she had to have had morning sickness, right? She told me what worked for her. And by the way, she sends her love.”

Misty pulled her knees up and dropped her head. “I don’t believe this,” was her muffled complaint.

Morgan smoothed her hair again. He loved her hair, shiny black and silky. Between the two of them, they’d likely have dark-haired children. He wondered if their eyes would be dark blue like his, or vivid blue like Misty’s. It didn’t matter to him one whit. “Will you marry me, Misty?”

She jerked upright and thwacked her skull on the headboard. With a wince, she rubbed her head, then eyed Morgan. “What did you say?”

Damn. Morgan took in her expression of stark disbelief and faltered. Her eyes were narrowed, her pupils dilated. Her soft mouth was pinched tight.

And he was hard again.

“I said,” he muttered through his teeth, “will you marry me?”

“Why?”

Morgan stiffened, and he knew his damn face was heating. He hadn’t blushed since sixth grade! “What the hell do you mean, why?”

She didn’t blink, didn’t look away from him. As if talking to a nitwit, she asked slowly, “Why do you want to marry me?”

A knock on the door saved him from trying to give a stammering reply. He sure as hell hadn’t expected her to answer his proposal with an interrogation. He gave her a glare, waited until she’d pulled the sheet higher, then called out, “Come in.”

Gabe stuck his head in the door. He kept his gaze resolutely on Morgan, and not on Misty. “You have a phone call.”

“Take a message.”

“Uh, Morgan, it’s from out of town. I think you’ll want to take it.”

He could tell by Gabe’s tone who the caller was. Hating the interruption, even while he was relieved by it, he stood. “I’ll be right back.”

Misty nodded, her face almost blank.

He put his hands on his hips. “We’ll finish this conversation when I get off the phone.”

“All right.”

She sounded far from enthusiastic, and he wanted to demand to know how she felt, but knew he’d do better to bide his time. Patience, more often than not, wasn’t his virtue.

He didn’t look at her again as he left the room.

Twenty minutes later he was lounging against the wall outside the hall bathroom when Misty finally emerged, fresh from her shower. She put on her brakes when she saw him and stared at him warily without saying a word.

Morgan noticed her wet hair, her pink cheeks, her bare feet. She had on a T-shirt and loose cotton drawstring pants. “You going somewhere?”

“I have to be at the diner in about an hour.”

He wanted to curse, to insist she skip work today, but he knew without even asking that he’d be wasting his breath. The woman was bound and determined to make all the money she could. Well, that’d be over with soon enough.

“All right. Then I guess we ought to get right to it.”

“You’re going to tell me why you want to marry me?”

There was no one else in the hallway, but he’d definitely prefer more guaranteed privacy. He took her arm and led her to his room. When he closed the door, he leaned against it and watched her. “Do you remember a woman named Victoria Markum?”

Misty backed up until her knees hit his mattress, then dropped onto it. “Yes. She was Mr. Collins’s girlfriend.”

He nodded. “Well, I hired some people to talk to her.”

She frowned in confusion. “You hired people?” At his nod, she asked, “But why?”

“To prove your innocence. And don’t give me that look, Malone. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to start squawking about me spending my money. This is something I wanted to do, all right?”

“I’ll pay you back—”

“The hell you will.” Morgan went to her and sat beside her, then took her hands. “Can’t you just accept that I care and I want to help?”

She searched his face for a long time before she grudgingly said, “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“You could ask me what I found out.”

“All right.” She bit her lip, her face filled with anxiety. “I hope, judging by the way you’re acting, it’s good news?”

“As a matter of fact, it is. You see, Malone, I believed you when you said you hadn’t taken the money. That meant someone else did, of course. I wondered if perhaps Ms. Markum might have done it.”

Misty squeezed his fingers; her hands were ice cold. “I never even considered that. I kept wondering if someone had managed to slip into the store and open the register while I was in the rest room, or if maybe the money had just been miscounted, but…Victoria didn’t seem like a thief to me. She was…I don’t know. Too ditzy. And I think they were planning on getting married, so she’d have been sort of stealing from herself, right?”

Morgan held both her hands between his own to warm them. “Actually, they were planning on marrying, or at least, Ms. Markum was. But we found out that Ms. Markum and your boss had a falling out. He, it seems, took the money she’d been holding for him in her own savings account, and ran with it, so she was more than willing to talk to us. It didn’t even take much prodding, from what the investigator told me. You see, she didn’t steal the money…but he did.”

“What?”

“Collins had been skimming from himself. Ms. Markum may be a ditz, but she has facts and dates and exact amounts that should corroborate her testimony. All we need to do now is contact your lawyer, who can file for a motion for the first trial to be declared a mistrial, based on the new evidence. The second trial should be scheduled quickly, probably within a month, because they won’t want you serving more of a sentence than you’ve already had to.”

She shook her head. “It can’t be that easy.”

“Actually it is.” He smiled, trying to reassure her. “Well, you’ll have to see the judge again, of course, but this time I’ll be with you.”

She stared at him in amazement, her bottom lip starting to quiver.

“Now, Malone,” he said uneasily, “don’t cry. I can’t stand it.”

Big tears welled in her eyes anyway. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

He pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose, which was starting to turn red. “I want you to be happy.”

She launched herself against him, knocking him back on the bed. She kissed his face, his throat, his ear. Morgan laughed even as he felt himself harden. There was no way Misty Malone could crawl all over him without turning him on. He caught her mouth and held her still for the deep thrust of his tongue, but pulled back slowly before he completely lost control.

He held her head to his shoulder and smiled. “That’s one problem taken care of.”

She squeezed him tight. “You are the most amazing man.”

Laughing, Morgan growled, “So you keep telling me. Now answer my other question. Will you marry me?”

She went still. Very slowly she raised her face. “You still haven’t told me why you want to marry me.”

Because he’d had a few minutes to come up with a reply, he said easily, “You’re sexy and beautiful.”

Her smile was radiant. “You’re sexy and beautiful, too, but that’s not a good reason to tie yourself to someone for life.”

He snorted at her compliment. “We have great sex together. Hell, I still feel singed.”

Her smile melted away and her eyes darkened. “Me, too. It was the most incredible thing. I’d never imagined sex could be like that.” She brushed a kiss over his jaw, then added, “But we don’t have to get married to have great sex. For as long as I’m here, I’m willing, Morgan.”

His stomach started to cramp. She wasn’t saying yes, and in fact, she was making a lot of excuses to cancel out every reason he gave her. But there was one reason she couldn’t refute. “You’re pregnant.”

“The baby isn’t your responsibility.”

“It is if I want to make it my responsibility.”

“Oh, Morgan. You’re not thinking straight. You can’t really want to be a fill-in for another man’s child.”

“The baby will be mine if you marry me.”

She touched gentle fingers to his mouth and her expression was one of wonderment. “You say that now because you’re feeling protective of me, just like you feel about everyone. But I don’t need you to take care of me, Morgan. I can take care of myself, and the baby.”

Morgan moved swiftly, rolling her beneath him before she could draw a deep breath. “Let me tell you something, Misty Malone. What you know about men doesn’t add up to jack. And for your information, I don’t care that the baby isn’t mine. It’s yours, and that’s all that matters to me.”

She shook her head, making him curse. He caught her hands and raised them over her head. “I’m going to tell you a little story.”

“I have to be at work soon.”

“Tough. Don’t rush me.” She wisely didn’t push him on that score. Morgan drew a deep breath, then admitted, “Sawyer isn’t Casey’s natural father.”

Misty’s eyes widened and her mouth opened twice before she sputtered, “That’s ridiculous!”

“No, it’s true. If you want all the details, you can ask Honey. I’m sure Sawyer told her the whole story.”

“But…” She searched his face, then looked away. “She’s never said a word.”

“Likely because it doesn’t matter. Not to Sawyer, and sure as hell not to the rest of us. No one could love that boy more than we do. Sawyer knew all along that Casey wasn’t his. But he’d been married to Casey’s mother, and she didn’t want him. So he brought Case home, a squalling little red-faced rodent, and we all went head over heels. Hell, a baby is a baby. It doesn’t matter who planted the seed. All that matters is who loves him and cares for him and shelters him. I want to do that with you, Misty.” He swallowed hard, his hands gripping her shoulders. “Marry me.”

He could feel her shaking beneath him, saw the tears gathering in her eyes. She bit her lip and sniffed.

“Malone?”

“I…I can’t.”

Never in his life, Morgan thought, had anything hurt so much. He’d been in brawls, he’d been injured by cars and animals. He’d had broken limbs and a broken nose and more bruises than he could count. But nothing had ever hurt like this.

He stared at Misty, not wanting to believe that she’d refused him. She’d told him all along that she didn’t want commitment, that she was through with involvement. But he hadn’t believed her, not really. He hadn’t wanted to believe her.

His head throbbed and his blood boiled. He wanted to rage, he wanted to shout. But he’d made a big enough fool of himself already.

He rolled to the side of the bed and stared at the ceiling. He started to ask her why, but wasn’t at all sure he wanted to know the answer. Misty scampered off the bed, and her bare feet made no sound on the carpet. His door closed very quietly.

By the time he followed her, she’d already left for work.

Gabe gave him a questioning look, but Morgan didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. He left for work and didn’t come home until late that night. He didn’t see Misty at all.

MISTY WAS SITTING by the lake when Honey found her. She glanced at her sister, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Hey. What’s up?”

“That was my question.” Honey lowered herself onto the edge of the dock beside Misty. She pulled off her sandals and dangled her feet in the water. “Morgan has looked like a thundercloud all day, growling at everyone, ready to spit nails. We’re all avoiding him. The only one not afraid is the puppy.”

Misty looked at the dark lake water and promised herself she wouldn’t cry. “The dog has really taken to him, then?”

“Amazing, isn’t it? Do you know what he named that little wad of fur? Godzilla. And the dog seems to like it.”

Misty summoned up a smile, when in truth, it was all she could do not to bawl like a baby.

Honey made an exasperated sound. “So Morgan is more feral than ever and you’re so morose the sun won’t even shine on you. What’s going on?”

Misty turned her face away, resting it on her bent knees. Hoping Honey couldn’t hear the strain in her voice, she said, “Nothing. I just wanted some peace and quiet.”

“Funny. That’s just what Morgan said.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He sent Gabe and Jordan running, and Sawyer was ready to hit him in the head, but I insisted he talk to me. He won’t growl at me, you know. I think he’s afraid it’ll break me or something.”

Funny. Morgan had never hesitated to shower her with his bad moods, not that she’d minded. He hadn’t scared her at all, because she’d seen through him.

Honey cleared her throat. “He told me he just wants to finish up the house so he can get moved out. He’s been spending every spare minute up there.” Honey hesitated, then said with a dramatic flair, “Tomorrow he’s moving in.”

Her stomach cramped, because she knew she’d chased him away, but what else could she do? Marry a man who didn’t love her?

“I hate to see him go,” Honey admitted softly. “The house won’t seem the same without him.”

Misty didn’t reply to that. What could she say? She’d barely seen Morgan in two days. Even today, at the station, he’d not taken much notice of her. When he had looked at her, his expression had been flat. There’d been no teasing, no lust, no tenderness, none of the things she was used to and that she had begun to expect. Oh, he’d still been courteous, telling her to go to lunch, to take her time, to make sure she ate right. It was as if what had been between them was no longer there.

Misty couldn’t bear to think about that, so she decided to do something she should have done already. “I have a confession.”

Honey’s arm slipped around her shoulders. “I’m still a good listener, you know.”

“You’re going to be angry,” Misty warned her.

“I doubt it.”

But when Misty explained all about the theft, how she’d been found guilty, Honey was absolutely livid. Not at Misty, so much, but that her boss had dared to accuse her and that the judge hadn’t believed her.

It took some fast talking on Misty’s part to make Honey understand that all was well now, or at least on the way to being well, thanks to Morgan, and to explain why she hadn’t told her sooner.

“So Morgan is the one that got it all straightened out?”

Misty nodded, once again confounded by his generosity. “He’s pretty wonderful, isn’t he?”

“I’ve certainly always thought so.”

She’d always thought so, too, but what she felt wasn’t enough to make a marriage work. Misty heaved a sigh. “I have to leave tomorrow morning. I might be gone overnight. I’m not sure.”

Honey stiffened. “Leave where?”

“My lawyer needs to see me. There’re some things that have to be done to set up the new trial. Everything should go well, so I’m not worried about that. I already told Ceily, and I told Nate. I know I should have told Morgan that I wouldn’t be in, but I just couldn’t. Things aren’t great between us right now.”

Very gently, Honey asked, “Why not?”

Misty squeezed her hands into fists. “He asked me to marry him.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Honey gasped theatrically. “Well, that bastard! How dare he?”

Shaking her head at her sister’s mocking outrage, Misty said, “You don’t understand.”

“I understand that you love him, sis. Isn’t that what’s most important?”

“No.” Misty dropped her feet into the water with a splash, then watched the ripples fan out until they disappeared. “What’s important is that two people love each other. But Morgan doesn’t love me. He likes to take care of people, and he thinks I need a husband because I’m pregnant. You’ve said yourself how old-fashioned he is. But that’s not good enough anymore. I’ve learned a lot through all this, most importantly that you can’t cut corners. If there isn’t love, then there’s nothing.”

“And you think Morgan doesn’t love you?”

Misty lifted one shoulder, not sure what to say. “I asked him why he wanted to marry me. He gave me a lot of good reasons, but not once did he say he loved me.”

“So ask him outright.”

Misty stared at her, appalled. “I can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Honey kicked her feet, too, splashing them both. “Morgan is a hard-headed man. Actually, he’s just hard, period. All over.”

“I know, I know.” Misty hadn’t been able to sleep at night, remembering how wonderfully hard Morgan was. She loved everything about him, but she was crazy nuts about his big, solid body. And after only making love with him twice, she was addicted. She didn’t think she could have ever gotten enough of him.

“Hard men are usually sensitive men.”

Misty snorted over that bit of nonsense. “Morgan is about as blunt as they come. He always tells me what he’s thinking or feeling, even if it embarrasses me to death.”

Honey looked at the sky and pondered that. “Well, then, don’t you think you owe him the same courtesy?”

She shuddered at just the thought. “I’m a horrible coward. Morgan’s made it clear from the first that he’s attracted to me. But that’s all.”

“How can you say that?” Honey frowned at her. “Morgan’s done everything he could to keep you close by. He even made up that ridiculous story about the two of you having an agreement.”

“You knew that wasn’t real?”

Honey smiled. “It was plain on your face.”

Bemused for a moment, Misty wondered if all his brothers had known he was just making up their involvement. Then she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He kept me here because he was trying to take care of me—whether I wanted him to or not. He does that for everyone, Honey.” She turned to face her sister, wanting her to understand. “Morgan is about the most giving, caring man I’ve ever met. That’s why being a sheriff is so perfect for him. He loves taking care of other people’s problems. He’s a natural caregiver—though he’d choke if he heard me say that, and probably frown something fierce. He tries to hide his gentleness behind a big tough exterior.”

Honey waved that away. “I know. But still—”

“No. If he loved me, surely he would have said so.”

“Will you at least think about it? Maybe he’s not quite as tough or as confident as you think he is.”

The idea of Morgan being insecure would take some getting used to, but to appease her sister, she agreed to think it over. What would Morgan say if she blurted out that she loved him? Would he be embarrassed? Would he lie and say he loved her, too, just to keep her from embarrassment? She closed her eyes, not sure at all what his reaction would be.

“I was looking for you for another reason, too.”

Honey’s serious tone pulled Misty out of her contemplation. “What’s wrong?”

After a deep breath, Honey said, “Father wants to visit us. He called a few minutes ago.”

That was the very last thing Misty had expected to hear. Incredulous, she stared at her sister. “You must be kidding.”

“Unfortunately…no.”

Misty narrowed her eyes. “He wants to come here? To Kentucky?”

“Yes. That’s what he said. I’m supposed to call him back and tell him when it’d be convenient.”

A summons from her father wouldn’t have thrown her so badly. But a visit? It didn’t make any sense. Unless…“What are we being accused of now? Is he mad about something?” Then a horrid thought intruded. “Oh, God. He found out I’d been arrested, didn’t he?”

“I don’t think so. Actually, he told me he wants to meet my husband. Sawyer is afraid he’s going to bring up his will again, and you can just imagine how that’d go over.”

Misty nodded. All her life, her father had claimed to want a son to carry on the family name. Since their mother had died without giving him one, he’d decided that Honey, as the oldest child, would have to supply a husband to fill the role of masculine heir.

Sawyer had flatly refused to accept anything from him. And their father had been peeved ever since. He hadn’t even attended the wedding.

“Father said he was intrigued by the notion of men who would blindly turn down money and power. When I mentioned to him that he should have come to the wedding, he actually said he regretted missing it. Can you believe that?”

“Uh…no.”

Honey softened her tone. “He also said he was worried about you.”

“Since when?” Misty couldn’t help but feel bitter over her last conversation with her father. He’d been very disappointed that she’d gotten pregnant, and he hadn’t bothered to try to hide that disappointment.

“Here’s what I think.” Honey pulled her feet from the water and stood, then looked at Misty. “I think I’m so happy that I don’t mind hearing him out, seeing what he has to say. Sawyer told me that not everyone is as capable of expressing love as we are. He asked me about Father’s upbringing, our grandparents, and you know, I think he might be onto something there. Father was always a cold, detached man, just as his parents were and as they expected him to be. After Mom died, he was all alone. That couldn’t have been easy for him, Misty. I’m not saying we have to be all loving and hugging.” She shuddered, then laughed. “That would be too weird after all this time. But I’d at least like to make my peace with him. And you’re going to be giving him a grandchild. Maybe he’ll look at things differently, but either way, I want to know that I gave our relationship every chance.”

Honey walked away, leaving Misty to think things over. True, her father had never been the type to hug or even give a quick compliment. But he’d made certain they were always well dressed and well fed, and they’d never wanted for anything material. Just the fact that he wanted to meet Sawyer and the brothers showed a bending on his part, a sort of olive branch. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to listen to him.

As she walked up to the house, dodging stones on the ground and the occasional bee feasting on clover, she smiled. She couldn’t begin to imagine her father’s reaction to the brothers. They were overwhelming and dominating and they spoke their minds without hesitation.

Her father would be in for a surprise.

EARLY the next morning, Morgan stared at his bedroom ceiling, a habit that had replaced sleeping in the past few days. No matter how hard he worked, no matter how he exhausted himself, he couldn’t sleep. He was so damn tired he could barely see straight, but when he closed his eyes, all he could think of was Misty.

Hell, even with his eyes open, she was all he could think of. He alternated between fantasies of making love to her until she begged him to marry her and throttling her for turning down his proposal in the first place. Not that he would ever really hurt her, he thought with disgust. Hell, no.

There was one bright side to all his recent labors; his house was done. He could now move in and live in comfort—and solitude. But he didn’t want to. He’d come to think of the house with Misty in it. Without her, it didn’t seem complete no matter what he did to it.

Sawyer was right, he was a miserable bastard. He never should have given in to his needs. He should have avoided her instead of finding out for a fact how sweet she was, how right it felt to be inside her, holding her, talking with her, loving her. Now she was still here, a damn relative, and he had to look at her and know she was close, but she didn’t want him.

He closed his eyes and groaned.

Two seconds later his bedroom door flew open and bounced off the wall. Morgan leaped out of bed, automatically reaching for his gun. The overhead light came on, nearly blinding him in the gray morning shadows, but showing his brother’s angry face clear as day. Sawyer stalked in, grabbed Morgan’s discarded jeans and flung them at him.

“Get dressed.”

Morgan began pulling on his pants without hesitation. It wasn’t often Sawyer issued commands that way. “What’s wrong?”

“You blew it, that’s what.”

He stumbled, his jeans only to his knees. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means Misty is gone.”

Forget the elephant, it felt like his heart was smashed flat. Wheezing, a little light-headed, he asked, “Gone where?”

Sawyer jutted his chin toward Morgan and growled, “She left, Morgan. What did you expect her to do with you moping around, ignoring her, acting like she didn’t exist? I thought you loved her!”

Morgan dropped onto the edge of the bed. “I asked her to marry me,” he said, feeling numb. “She turned me down.”

“You must have misunderstood.”

Sawyer and Morgan both turned to see Jordan standing in the doorway. Morgan shook his head. “No, I asked and she flatly refused.”

Jordan crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “I can tell she cares about you.”

Gabe walked in. “She’s crazy about him, if you ask me.”

“Oh, for the love of—” Morgan stood and finished pulling on his pants. “If that’s true, why wouldn’t she marry me?”

Honey pushed Gabe out of her way and glared at all of them. “Because she said you didn’t love her.”

“What?”

“She said you were just trying to take care of her, but without love, it wasn’t worth it.”

Morgan cursed so viciously that Gabe backed up and Jordan rolled his eyes. Sawyer pulled Honey protectively to his side. “Get a grip, Morgan. Are you going to go after her or not?”

His head shot up. “Go after her? When did she leave?”

Honey tapped her foot. “About two minutes ago.”

Before she had finished, Morgan had snapped his jeans, shoved his gun in his pocket and started out of the room. But his brothers had all congregated inside, blocking his path at the end of the bed, so he bounded over it instead, bouncing on the mattress as he dodged past them. He ran out the doorway, not bothering with a shirt or shoes. Gabe trotted after him, waving a shirt. “Wait! Don’t you want to finish dressing?”

Morgan ignored him, but he couldn’t ignore the loud guffaws from his other brothers. He snatched his keys from the peg by the back door and ran into the yard.

“Damn irritants,” he muttered, then winced as his bare feet came into contact with every sharp stone on the dewwet grass. He slipped twice, but within thirty seconds he had the Bronco out, lights flashing and sirens blasting. When he caught up to her…

Morgan filled the time it took to get to town by plotting all the ways he’d set her straight.

She was in front of the sheriff’s office when he spotted her. She slowed when she noticed his flashing lights, and after a few seconds she pulled over.

Unfortunately, Ceily was just coming to the diner to start preparing the food, and she paused on the front stoop to watch as Morgan climbed out of the Bronco and slammed the door. Nate was at the station already, and he and Howard and Jesse also walked out to see what was happening. It wasn’t often that Morgan pulled anyone over with so much fanfare.

By the time he’d circled the front of the Bronco, Misty had already left her car. She gaped at him, then demanded, “What in the world is wrong with you? Has something happened?” She gazed at him from his shaggy hair, his bare chest, to his naked feet.

Morgan stomped up to her, ignoring the sting to his feet and the way the sidewalk was quickly beginning to crowd with curious onlookers. He hooked his hand around the back of her neck and drew her up to her tiptoes. “Where in hell do you think you’re going?”

She blinked at him. “I have to meet with my lawyer today.”

Morgan prepared to blast her with his wrath—and then her words sank in. “You’re not leaving?”

“Leaving, as in for good?”

He nodded.

“Why would you think that?”

He seriously considered going home and choking Sawyer. But first, he had a few things to straighten out. “You should have told me you were leaving.”

“You,” she said, beginning to show her own pique, “haven’t shown the slightest interest in talking to me lately!”

“Because I asked you to marry me and you had the nerve to say no.”

A loud gasp rose from their audience.

Morgan pretended he hadn’t heard them. “Do you know how many other women I’ve asked to be wife? Do you? None!”

“Well, I’m honored,” Misty sneered, then poked him in the chest and her own voice rose to a shout. “But I’m not marrying a man who doesn’t love me.”

He sputtered in renewed outrage. “Who the hell says I don’t love you?”

Misty caught her breath, panting, then said with deep feeling, her gaze intent, “Who says you do?”

Morgan growled, ran a hand roughly through his hair, then he picked her up. He held her at eye level and said, “Damn woman, I asked you to marry me! Why would I do that if I didn’t love you?”

Someone on the sidewalk—it sounded like Ceily—called out in a laughing voice, “Yeah, why would Morgan do that?”

Morgan jerked his head around to face them all. “Can’t you people find something to do?”

“No!” was the unanimous retort.

Morgan growled again. “Nate, arrest anyone who doesn’t scatter.”

Nate promptly looked dumbfounded. “Uh…”

Misty regained his attention by saying softly, “You just want to help me, like you helped that woman with the flat tire, and the dog, and the school kids and the elderly.”

Morgan walked to her car and plunked her down gently on the hood. He braced his hands on either side of her hips, then leaned in so close his nose touched hers. “Listen up, Malone. I didn’t ask the damn dog to marry me. I didn’t ask Howard or Jesse to marry me.”

Jesse shouted, “He’s speakin’ the truth there.”

Misty opened her mouth twice before she got words to come out. She spoke so softly, Morgan could barely hear her. “You said…you said you were looking for a wife.”

He gave a sharp nod. “You.”

“But…” Her voice faded to a shy whisper. “You said you wanted three children.”

“Three total.” His hand covered her belly, and he smiled. Breathing the words so no one else would hear, he explained, “This one and two more. I was trying to hint to you that I’d be a good father.”

“Oh, Morgan.” She cupped his face, and tears filled her eyes. “I already know you’d be an excellent father.”

He straightened and put his hands on his hips. “I swear, if you start crying again, Malone, I won’t like it.” He drew a breath and added, “Hell, it just about kills me to see you unhappy.”

She sniffed loudly. “I’m very happy.”

“So you won’t cry?”

“I won’t cry.”

A fat tear rolled down her cheek, making him sigh in exasperation. The woman was forever turning him in circles. But since she seemed in an agreeable mood for a change…“Tell me you’ll marry me.”

She nodded. “I’ll marry you.”

She started to put her arms around his neck, but he held her off. “Not so quick, Malone. I told you I love you. Don’t you have something to say to me?”

With everyone on the sidewalk cheering her on, she grinned around her tears and said, “Morgan Hudson, I love you so much it hurts.”

He scooped her into his arms for a fierce hug, then turned to the crowd, laughing out loud. “You heard her. Consider me an engaged man.” Then to Misty, “Damn. Do you think we have time for me to go home and get dressed before we go see your lawyer? I’d probably make a better impression that way.”

Epilogue

MORGAN HAULED MISTY into his lap after her father had left. She protested, saying, “No, Morgan, I’m too fat now!”

Three months had passed. She was rounded with the child growing inside her, but still so sexy he could barely keep his hands off her. Every day he loved her more.

He kissed her cheek and smiled. “I promise to bear up under the weight.”

Honey, a little subdued and cuddled up against Sawyer’s side, said, “Misty, you look wonderful. Not at all fat.”

Gabe laughed. “When I start looking like you two did, you’ll have to give me some pointers so I can find my own beauty.”

Sawyer blinked. “I wasn’t looking. That’s why Honey sort of…blindsided me.” Honey playfully punched him for that remark, making Sawyer laugh.

Shrugging, Morgan added, “I wasn’t looking, either.”

The feminine weight in his lap gasped over his statement. “What an outrageous clanker! You even told me you wanted a wife.”

Morgan shook his head. “That was just lip service. Sawyer seemed so tamed, I thought I should give it a try, too. But I wasn’t putting much effort into it, not until I saw you.”

Gabe nodded. “As I said, they’re both gorgeous.”

“Looks don’t matter, Gabe.” He tilted Misty’s chin up and kissed her lips. “It was Misty’s mouthy bluster that reeled me in.”

Gabe made a face. “You can say that now.”

Jordan shook his head. “Your day will come, Gabe.”

“Ha! But not before yours, old man. If we’re going in order, you’re doomed.”

Jordan made a face at him. “If you keep using words like ‘doomed,’ Misty or Honey are going to flatten you.”

Casey flopped down on the sofa. “So, Dad, what do you think about me visiting Mr. Malone?”

Morgan hid a smile. Mr. Malone had surprised them all. True, the man was so rigid he bordered on brittle. But he had made the effort to unbend a little more on each visit. His first had been horribly strained, but with all the ribald teasing going on, he could hardly stay puckered up indefinitely. This time, he’d actually kissed each daughter’s cheek.

And rather than trying to offer his money to Sawyer again, he’d asked—actually asked—if he could put a good portion of it in a trust for the baby. Morgan and Misty had discussed it, then agreed, as long as equal money was put in for each child either of the sisters had.

That had settled one problem, but then the man had fixated on Casey. All along, he’d seemed very impressed by Casey’s manners, his maturity, and within a few hours of this visit, he’d damn near adopted him as a pseudo heir. None of them were overly pleased by it, especially not Honey, but when the man had invited Casey to visit, to look over his enterprises, Casey had shown some interest.

Sawyer pursed his mouth, then hugged Honey closer so she wouldn’t protest. Morgan knew Honey hated to let Casey out of her sight. She had a hard time thinking of him as a young man, despite the fact he was exactly that. “I suppose we could all make a trip up there. If after that you want to hang around for a short visit, it’d probably be all right.”

“Great.” Casey didn’t seem overly enthusiastic either way, and when he said he had a date, Morgan understood why. The male brain had a hard time focusing when females were being considered.

They all watched Casey leave with indulgent smiles. Seconds later, Honey and Sawyer left to begin dinner. Jordan had a few calls to make, and when Morgan started kissing his wife, Gabe left the room whistling.

“You about ready to head home?” Morgan asked.

“I thought we were staying for dinner.”

“We’ll come back,” Morgan promised, then gave her a lecherous grin. He picked her up in his arms and suffered through her complaints.

“I’m too heavy now for you to keep doing this!”

Morgan just grinned at her. “Do you know, you’re the only one who’s ever doubted my strength.”

“That’s not true.” She kissed his chin. “I just like to match it.”

Gabe

by Lori Foster

Contents

“ISN’T HE JUST the absolute sexiest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Hmm. And thank heavens for this heat wave. I love it when he leaves his shirt off.” A wistful, feminine sigh. “I swear, I could sit here all day and look at him.”

“We have been sitting here all day looking at him.”

Gabe Kasper, pretending to be asleep, had to struggle with a small smile. Life was good. Here he was, sprawled in the warm sun, letting the waves from the weekend boaters gently rock the dock, with a fishing pole loosely held in one hand, a Van Halen hat pulled low over his eyes and a gaggle of good-lookin’ women ogling him. He had not a care in the world. Man couldn’t ask for much more satisfaction out of living.

“He is so gorgeous.”

“And wicked lookin’. I dearly love those whiskers on his chin.”

Aha. And here his brother Jordan had sworn the whiskers looked disreputable and tried to convince him to shave. Jordan could be such a stuffed shirt sometimes.

“I like that golden hair on his body, myself.”

Gabe almost chuckled out loud. He couldn’t wait to tell his brothers about this. Now that the two eldest were married and off-limits, Gabe and Jordan, the only two single ones left, got even more attention. Not that he was complaining. Female adoration was one of those things that couldn’t really go to excess, at least, in his opinion.

“I don’t mind tellin’ you, Rosemary, it made me nervous when the first two brothers got married off. I cried for two days, and I was so afraid they’d all end up doing it. Heck, besides dying to have one of them to myself, those brothers were the biggest tourist draw we had here in Buckhorn.”

Gabe bit the side of his lip. He’d just keep that little tidbit to himself when he did the retelling. Hell, his brothers’ egos—Morgan’s especially—were big enough as it was. No need adding to them. No, he’d just stick to sharing the compliments about himself.

“And Gabe is the biggest draw my boat dock has. With him sitting there, no one wants to get their gas or bait anywhere else. I keep thinkin’ I ought to pay him or something.”

“Ha! You’re just hoping to get a little closer to him.”

“No, I just wanna make sure he doesn’t take his sexy self off to some other dock.”

“Amen to that!”

Giggles erupted after such a heartfelt comment and Gabe sighed. He had no intention of switching loyalties. Hell, Rosemary’s daddy had been letting him hang out on his docks since he was just a grasshopper and had first noticed what a pleasing thing it was to see females in bikinis. This place felt almost like a second home now. And since Rosemary’s daddy had passed away, he felt honor bound to stick around and help out on occasion. The trick was to keep Rosemary from getting marriage minded, because that was one route his brothers could travel alone, thank you very much.

“It amazes me that those brothers aren’t full related. They all look different—”

“But they’re all gorgeous, I know. And they’re all so…strong. My daddy used to say it took a hell of a woman to raise boys like that. I just wish they didn’t live so far out on that land. Thinking up a good excuse to visit isn’t easy. Not like accidentally running into the other men here in town.”

Gabe did smile at that, he couldn’t help himself. He and his brothers—he refused to think of them as half brothers—had often joked about going into town to see who was looking for them. Usually some female or another was. But by living out a ways, they could always choose when and if they wanted to get friendly. It had been helpful, because once they’d hit their teens, the females had come on in droves. His mother used to claim to keep a broom by the front and back doors to beat the women away. Not that any of them minded overmuch, though his two new sisters-in-law were sure disgruntled over all the downcast female faces since the two weddings had taken place.

Gabe was just about to give up feigning sleep when a new female voice joined the others over by the gas pumps.

“Excuse me, but I was told Gabriel Kasper might be here.” It was more a statement than anything else, and rather…strident to boot.

Female, but not at all local.

This new voice wasn’t soft, Southern or sweet. She’d sounded almost impatient.

Gabe decided just to wait and see what the lady was up to. It wasn’t unusual for someone female to be looking for him, and most everyone in these parts knew that in the summer, you could find him by the lake more often than not. He resisted the urge to peek at the owner of the voice and kept his body utterly relaxed.

“Whatdya want Gabe for?” That suspicious tone was from Rosemary, bless her sweet little heart, and Gabe vowed to take her to dinner real soon.

There was a beat of silence, then, “I have personal business to discuss with him.”

Oh, great, Gabe thought. That’ll get the gossip going. What the hell kind of personal business could he have with a woman he didn’t know? And he was certain he didn’t know her. She didn’t sound at all familiar.

“Well, he’s right there, but he’s relaxin’, and he won’t thank you none for disturbing him.”

“I appreciate your warning.”

Well used to the soft thud of sneakers or bare feet on the wooden planks of the dock, Gabe almost winced when the clack of hard-soled shoes rang over the water. He ignored it, and ignored the woman he could feel hesitating next to his lawn chair. The breeze stirred and he caught a light feminine scent, not really perfume, but maybe scented shampoo. He breathed deeply, but otherwise remained still.

He heard her clear her throat. “Uh…excuse me?”

She didn’t sound so confident, and he waited, wondering if she’d shake him awake. He felt her hesitate, knew in his gut she was reaching for his naked shoulder…

And the fishing pole nearly leaped out of his hand.

“Son of a bi—” Gabe jolted upright, barely managing to hang on to his expensive rod and reel. His feet hit the dock and he deftly maneuvered the rod, going with the action of the fish. “Damn, it’s a big one!”

Rosemary, Darlene and Ceily all ran over to his side.

“I’ll grab the net!” Rosemary said.

Ceily, who usually worked the diner in town, squealed as the fish, a big ugly carp, flipped up out the water. Darlene pressed to his back, peering over his shoulder.

Gabe slid over the side of the dock to the smooth, slick, moss-covered concrete boat ramp, bracing his legs wide to keep his balance while he struggled with the fish. Rosemary, a fisherwoman of long standing, didn’t hesitate to slip in beside him. She held the net at the ready. Just as Gabe got the carp close enough, she scooped him with the net. The fish looked to weigh a good fifteen pounds, and she struggled with it while Gabe tried to reach for the net and hold onto his pole.

But then Rosemary lost her footing and Gabe made a grab for her and they both went down, splashing and cursing and laughing, too. The rod jerked out of his hands and he dove forward to grab it, barely getting ahold and soaking himself thoroughly in the process. The other two women leaped in to help, all of them struggling to keep the fish and the rod while roaring with hilarity.

When the battle was over, Gabe had his fish, and a woman, in his lap. Rosemary had settled herself there while Darlene and Ceily hung on him, both struggling to control their raucous laughter. He’d known all three of them since grade school, so it wasn’t the first time they’d played in the water; they felt totally familiar with each other and it showed. Along string of seaweed clung to the top of Gabe’s head, and that started the women giggling again.

Gabe, enjoying himself, unhooked the big fish, kissed it—making the women smack at him—then tossed it back.

It was then they heard the tap, tap, tap of that damned hard-soled shoe.

Turning as one, they all peered at the woman who Gabe only then remembered. He had to shade his eyes against the hot sun to see, and it wasn’t easy with three women draped over his body.

Silhouetted by the sunshine, her long hair looked like ruby fire. And he’d never in his life seen so many freckles on a woman before. She wore a crisp white blouse, a long jean skirt and black pumps with nylons. Nylons in this heat? Gabe blinked. “Can I help you with somethin’, sugar?”

Her lips tightened and her arms crossed over her middle. “I don’t think so. I was looking for Gabriel Kasper.”

“That’d be me.”

“But…I was looking for Gabriel, the town hero.”

Darlene grinned hugely. “That’s our Gabe!”

Ceily added, “The one and only.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “That’s nonsense and you all know it.”

The women all started in at once, Ceily, Rosemary and Darlene assuring him he was all that was heroic and wonderful and more.

Little Red merely stared in absolute disbelief. “You mean, you are the one who rescued those swimmers?”

He gently lifted Rosemary off his lap and cautiously stood on the slick concrete. The women had gone silent now, and Gabe could see why. While they looked downright sexy in their colorful bikinis, loose hair and golden tans, this woman looked like the stern, buttoned-up supervisor of a girls’ prep school. And she was glaring at them all, as if she’d caught them having an orgy in the lake, rather than just romping.

Gabe, always the gentleman, boosted each woman to the dock, then deftly hauled himself out. He shook like a mongrel dog, sending lake water flying in cold droplets. The woman quickly backed up two steps.

Rosemary plucked the seaweed from his hair and he grinned at her. “Thanks, sweetie. Ah, would you gals mind if I talk to…” He lifted a brow at Red.

“Elizabeth Parks,” she answered stiffly. She clutched a notepad and pencil and had a huge purselike bag slung over one shoulder, stuffed to overflowing with papers.

“Yeah, can I have a minute with Ms. Parks?” He had the sneaking suspicion Ms. Parks was another reporter, and he had no intention of chatting with her for more time than it took to say thanks but no thanks. “I won’t be long.”

“All right, Gabe, but you owe us for rescuing your fish.”

“That I do. And I promise to think up some appropriate compensation.”

Giggling again, the women started away, dragging their feet every step, sashaying their sexy behinds. But then two boats pulled in and he knew that would keep them busy selling gas and bait and whatever other supplies the vacationers wanted. He turned to Red.

“What can I do for you?”

Now, without the sun in his eyes, Gabe could see she had about the bluest blue eyes he’d ever seen. They stood out like beacons among all that bright red hair and those abundant freckles.

She flipped open her bag and dragged out a folded newspaper. Turning it toward him, she asked, still with a twinge of disbelief, “Is this you?”

She sounded suspicious, but Gabe didn’t even have to glance at the paper. Buckhorn, Kentucky was a small town, and they looked for any excuse at all to celebrate. The town paper, Buckhorn Press, had used the changing of a traffic light for front-page news once, so it was no wonder they’d stuck him in there for a spell when he helped fish a few swimmers out of the path of an unmanned boat. It hadn’t been even close to an act of heroism, but if changing traffic lights was important, human endangerment was outright momentous.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Gabe reached for his mirrored sunglasses and slipped them on, then dragged both hands, fingers spread, over his head to smooth his wet hair. He stuck his cap on backward then looked at the woman again. With the shades in place, he could check her over a little better without her knowing.

But the clothing she wore made seeing much impossible. She had to be roasting in that thick denim and starched cotton.

She cleared her throat. “Well, if it’s really true, then I’d like to interview you.”

Gabe leaned around her, which made her blue eyes widen, and fetched a can of cola from the cooler sitting beside his empty chair. “You want one?”

“Uh, no, thank you.” She hastily stepped back, avoiding getting too close to him. That nettled.

After popping the tab on the can and downing half of it, Gabe asked, “What paper do you write for?”

“Oh. No, I don’t—”

“Because I’m not interested in being interviewed again. Every damn paper for a hundred miles around picked up on that stupid story, and they blew it all out of proportion. Folks around here are finally about done razzing me, my damn brothers included, and I’m not at all interested in resurrecting that ridiculous business again.”

She frowned at him, then snapped the paper open to peruse it. “Did you or did you not dive into the water to pull three people, a woman and her two children, out of the lake when a drunken man fell out of his boat, leaving the boat unmanned?”

Gabe made a face. “Yeah, but—”

“No one else did anything, they just sort of stood there dumbfounded while the boat, without a driver, began circling the hapless swimmers.”

“Hapless swimmers?” He grunted at her word usage. “Any one of my brothers would have done the exact same thing, and in fact—”

“And did you or did you not then manage to get in the boat—” She glanced up. “I’d love for you to explain how you did that, by the way. How you took control and got inside a running boat without getting chewed to bits by the prop. Weren’t you at all scared?”

Gabe stared at her. Even her lashes were reddish, sort of a deep auburn, and with the sun on them, the tips were turned to gold. She squinted against the glare of the sunshine, which made the freckles on her tipped-up nose more pronounced. Other than those sprinkled freckles, her skin was smooth and clear and…

He shook himself. “Look, sugar, I said I didn’t want to do an interview.”

She puckered up like someone had stuck a lemon between her lips. “My name is Ms. Parks, or Elizabeth, either will do, thank you.” After that reprimand, she had the audacity to say, “All the others wanted to be interviewed. Why don’t you?”

She stood there, slim brows raised, her pencil poised over that damn notepad as if she expected to write down his every profound word.

Gabe cursed. Profound words were not his forté. They took too much effort. “What others?”

“The other heroes.”

He could see her long hair curling in the humidity even as they spoke. It hung almost to the top of her behind, except for the front which was pulled back with a huge barrette. Little wispy curls, dark with perspiration, clung to her temples. The longer hair was slowly pulling into corkscrew curls. It fascinated him.

The front of her white blouse was beginning to grow damp, too, and Gabe could detect a plain white bra beneath. Damn, it was too hot to be all trussed up like that. What the hell kind of rigid female wore so many clothes to a vacation lake during the most sweltering heat wave of the summer season?

He didn’t care what kind of female. “All right, first things first. I’m not doing any interview, period. Two, I’ll admit I’m curious as to what the hell you’re talking about with this other heroes business. And three, would you be more comfortable in the shade? Your face is turning berry red.”

If anything, her color intensified. It wasn’t exactly a pretty blush, more like someone had set a fire beneath her skin. She looked downright blotchy. Gabe almost laughed.

“I, ah, I always turn red,” she explained, somewhat flustered. “Sorry. Redheads have fair skin.”

“And you sure as certain have redder hair than most.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

She looked stiff, as if he’d insulted her. It wasn’t like her red hair was a state secret! A body could see that hair from a mile away.

He had to struggle to keep from grinning. “So whatdya say? You wanna go sit in the shade with me? There’s a nice big piss elm hanging over the water there and it’s cooler than standing here on the dock in the sun, but not much.”

She blinked owlishly at him. “A what elm?”

“Piss elm. Just sorta means a scraggly one. Come on.” She looked ready to expire on him, from flustered embarrassment, heat and exasperation. Without waiting for her agreement, he grabbed his cooler, took her arm in a firm grip and led her off the dock, over the rough rock retaining wall and through the grass. One large root of the elm stuck out smoothly from the ground and made a nice seat. Gabe practically shoved her onto it. He was afraid she might faint on him any minute. “Rest there a second while I get you a soda.”

She scrambled to smooth her skirt over her legs, covering as much skin as possible, while trying to balance her notepad and adjust her heavy purse. “No, thank you. Really, I just—”

He’d already opened a can. “Here, drink up.” He shoved the drink into her hand and then waited until she dutifully sipped. “Feel better?”

“Uh, yes, thank you.”

She acted so wary, he couldn’t help but be curious about her. She wasn’t his type—too pushy, too prim, too…red. But that didn’t mean he’d let her roast herself in the sun. His mother would hide him if she thought he’d been rude to a lady, any lady. Besides, she was kinda cute with her prissiness. In a red sort of way.

Gabe grabbed another cola for himself, then sat on the cooler. He looked at her while he drank. “So, tell me about these heroes.”

She carefully licked her lips then set the can in the grass before facing him. “I’m working on a thesis for college. I’ve interviewed about a half dozen different men who were recently commended for performing heroic acts. So far, they’ve all had similar personality types. But you—”

“No fooling? What type of personality do heroes have?”

“Well, before I tell you that, I’d like to ask you a few questions. I don’t want your answers to be biased by what the others have said.”

Gabe frowned, propping his elbows on his knees and glaring at her. “You think I’d lie?”

She rushed to reassure him. “No! Not consciously. But just to keep my study pure, I’d rather conduct all the interviews the same way.”

“But I’ve already told you, I don’t want to be interviewed.” He watched her closely, saw her frustration and accurately guessed that wasn’t typical behavior of a hero. What nonsense.

After a long minute, she said, “Okay, can I ask you something totally different?”

“Depends. Ask, then I’ll see if I want to answer.”

“Why’d you throw the fish back?”

Gabe looked over his shoulder to where he’d caught the carp, then back. “That fish I just caught?”

“Yes. Why fish if you’re not going to keep what you catch.”

He chuckled. “You don’t get out by the lake much, do you?”

“I’m actually not from around here. I’m just visiting the area—”

“To interview me?” The very idea floored him, and made him feel guilty for giving her such a hard time.

“Yes, actually.” She took another drink of the soda, then added, “I rented a place and I’m staying for the month until school starts back up. I wanted to have all my research together before then. I’d thought I was done, and I was due a short vacation, but then I read the papers about you and decided to add one more interview.”

“So you’re working during your vacation?” He snorted. That was plain nuts. Vacations were for relaxing, and the idea of wasting one to pester him didn’t make sense.

“Yes, well, let’s just say that, hopefully, I’m combining my vacation with an interview. I couldn’t resist. Your situation was unique in that every time you were quoted, you talked about someone else.”

“I remember.” The people he’d talked about were more interesting than anything he had to say about himself.

“You went on and on about how brave the two little kids were…”

“They were real sweet kids, and—”

“…and you lectured something fierce about drinking and water sports.”

“This is a dry lake, which means no alcohol. That damn fool who fell out of his boat could have killed someone.”

She gave him a coy look, surprising the hell out of him with the natural sensuality of it. She was so starchy, he hadn’t been at all prepared. “But you keep saying the situation wasn’t dangerous.”

“It wasn’t. Not to me.” She looked smug, and she wrote something on her paper, making him frown. He decided to explain before she got the wrong idea. “Hell, I’ve been swimming like a fish since I was still in diapers. I was in this lake before I could walk. My brothers taught me to water-ski when I was barely five years old, and I know boats inside and out. There was no risk to me at all, so there’s no way anyone in their right mind can label me a hero.”

“So you say. But everyone else seems to disagree.”

“Sweetheart, you just don’t know Buckhorn. This town is so settled and quiet, any disturbance at all is fodder for front-page news. Why, we had a cow break out of the pasture and wander into the churchyard sometime back. Stopped traffic for miles around so everyone could gawk. The fire department showed up, along with my brother, who’s the sheriff, and the Buckhorn Press sent all their star reporters to cover the story.”

“All their star reporters?”

He grinned. “Yeah. All two of them. That’s the way things are run around here. The town council meets to vote on whether or not to change the bulbs in the street lamps and last year when Mrs. Rommen’s kitty went missing, a search party was formed and we hunted for three days before finding the old rascal.”

She wrote furiously, which annoyed the hell out of Gabe, and then she looked up. “We?”

He tilted his head at her teasing smile, a really nice smile now that he was seeing it. Her lips were full and rosy and…He frowned. “Now, Ms. Parks, you wouldn’t expect me to avoid my civic duty, would you? Especially not when the old dear loves that ugly tomcat something fierce.”

She grinned at him again, putting dimples in those abundant freckles, making her wide mouth even more appealing, before going back to her writing. Gabe leaned forward to see exactly what she was putting on paper, and she snatched the paper to her chest.

“What are you doing?” She sounded breathless and downright horrified.

Gabe lifted a brow. “Just peeking at what you consider so noteworthy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She lowered the paper, but the damage had been done. Dark smears of pencil lead were etched across the front of her damp white blouse.

Gabe nodded appreciatively at her bosom while sipping his cola. “Looks like you’ll need to be cleaned up.” He said it, then stood. “You should probably head on home to do that.”

She quickly stood, too. “But I haven’t asked you my questions yet.”

“And you won’t. I don’t want to be interviewed. But just for the hell of it, I turned the fish loose ‘cause it’s a carp, not that good for eating and a real pain to clean being as they have a mud vein. Bass is more to my tastes. Which doesn’t matter any when you’re fishing just for the fun of fishing, which is usually how I do it. You should try it sometime.” He looked her over slowly. “Cuttin’ loose, I mean. It’s real relaxing.”

He turned to walk away and she trotted to keep up with him. “Gabriel…Mr. Kasper…”

“Gabe will do, unless you’re thinking to ask more questions.” He said it without looking at her, determined to get away before he noticed anything about her besides her lips, which now that he’d noticed he couldn’t stop noticing, or how nicely that starched shirt was beginning to stick to her breasts in the humidity. He still couldn’t tell for sure, but he suspected a slight possibility that she was built rather nice beneath all the prim, stiff clothing. And that was the kind of suspicion that could distract a man something awful.

Only she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted to be distracted by. She had an obvious agenda, while he avoided plans and merely enjoyed each day.

“Gabe, really, this isn’t a lengthy interview. There’s no reason for you to be coy.”

He had to laugh at that. Shaking his head, he stepped on the dock and looked at her. He could have sworn he saw another long red tress snap into a curl right before his eyes. Her whole head was beginning to look like corkscrews. Long, lazy, red corkscrews. It was kinda cute in a way…Hell, no. No, it was not cute.

“I’ve never been called coy in my life. I’m just plain not interested in that foolishness.” He skimmed off his sunglasses and hat, and placed them on his chair, then tossed a fat inflated black inner tube into the lake. “Now, I’m going to go cool off with a dip. You can either skim out of those clothes and join me before you expire from the heat, or you can go find some other fool to interview. But no more questions.” He started to turn away, but belatedly added, “Nice meeting you.” Then he dove in.

He was sure his splash got her, but he didn’t look to see. At least not at first.

She stood there for the longest time. He was strangely aware of her presence while he hoisted himself into the center of the inner tube and got comfortable. Peeking through one eye, he watched her stew in silence, then glare at him before marching off.

Finally. Let her leave.

Calling him a hero—what nonsense. His brothers were real heroes; even those kids that had kept their cool and not whined could be considered heroic little devils. But not Gabe Kasper. No, sir.

He started to relax, tipping his head into the cool water to drench his hair and lazily drifting his arms. But his neck snapped to attention when he saw Little Red stop beside Rosemary. She pointed at Gabe, then pulled out her damn notepad when Rosemary began chattering. And damn if Ceily and Darlene didn’t wander closer, taking part.

Well, hell. She was gossiping about him!

When he’d told her to interview someone else, he meant someone else who wouldn’t talk about him. Someone not on the lake. Hell, someone not even in Buckhorn—not even in Kentucky!

Rosemary’s mouth was going a mile a minute, and he could only imagine what was being said. He ground his teeth in frustration.

A couple of women in a docked boat started flirting with him, but Gabe barely noticed. He stared at Rosemary, trying to will her to clam up, but not wanting to appear too concerned about the whole thing. What was it with Red, that she’d be so damn pushy? He’d explained he wasn’t a hero, that she didn’t need him for her little survey or whatever it was she conducted. But could she let that go? Hell, no.

One of the women from the docked boat—a really nice inboard that cost more than some houses—dove in and swam over to him. Gabe sent her a distracted smile.

It was in his nature to flirt; he just couldn’t seem to help himself, and he’d never yet met a woman who minded. This particular woman didn’t. She took his smile as an invitation.

Yet anytime he’d gotten even remotely close to Red, she’d frozen up like he was a big water snake ready to take a bite. Obviously she wanted into his head, but nowhere else.

Strange woman.

She walked away from Rosemary with a friendly wave, and Gabe started to breathe a sigh of relief—until she stopped a few yards up the incline where Bear, the repairman who worked on boat engines for Rosemary, was hanging around. Gabe helped the man regularly, whenever things got too busy, but did Bear remember that now? Gabe snorted. The old whiskered cuss looked at Red warily, then glanced at Gabe, and a smile as wide as the dam spread across his wrinkled face. Just that fast, Little Red had her pencil racing across the paper again.

“Damn it.” Gabe deftly tipped the inner tube and slid over the side into the water. The sudden chill did nothing to cool his simmering temper. Keeping his gaze on the meddling female, he swam—dragging the inner tube—to the dock. But just as he reached it, so did the woman from the boat.

“Ah, now you’re not planning to leave just when I got here, are you?”

Gabe turned. He’d actually forgotten the woman, which was incredible. She stood waist deep in the shallow water and from what he could see, she was built like a Barbie doll, all long limbs and long blond hair, and so much cleavage, she fairly overflowed her skimpy bikini bra. She should have held all his attention, but instead, he’d been thoroughly distracted by an uptight, overly freckled, redheaded wonder of a woman who jumped if he even looked at her.

Gabe glanced at Red, and their gazes clashed. He’d thought to go set the little darling straight on how much prying he’d put up with, but he reconsidered.

Oh, she was in a hot temper. Her blue-eyed gaze was glued to him, and her pencil was thankfully still. It was then Gabe realized his female swimming companion had caught hold of his arm—and Red disapproved mightily. She was looking like a schoolmarm again, all rigid, her backbone straight. Well, now. That was more like it.

Gabe turned to the blonde with a huge smile. This might just turn out to be fun.

ELIZABETH narrowed her eyes as she watched Gabriel Kasper fairly ooze masculine charm over the woman draped at his side. And the woman was draped. Elizabeth snorted in disgust. Did all women want to hang on him? Rosemary, Darlene, Ceily and this woman. They seemed to come from all around just to coo at him. No wonder he seemed so…different from the others.

The men she’d interviewed so far had been full of ego over their heroics and more than willing to share their stories with any available ear. They were rightfully proud, considering they’d behaved in a brave, out of the ordinary way that had directly benefited the people around them. Some of them had been shy, some outrageous, but not a one of them had refused her an interview. And not a one of them had so thoroughly ignored her.

No, they’d hung on her every question, anxious to share the excitement, thrilled with her interest, but in a purely self-satisfying way. They certainly hadn’t been distracted with her as a woman, eyeing her up and down the way Gabriel Kasper had. She wondered if he thought she was stupid, or just naive, considering the way he’d looked at her, like he thought she wouldn’t notice just because he wore sunglasses. Not likely! She’d felt his gaze like a tactile stroke, and it had unnerved her. The average man just didn’t look at her that way, and men like Gabe never gave her a thought.

But then Gabe had dismissed her, and that she was more than used to. Except with the heroes she’d interviewed, the men who wanted their unique stories told.

Damn, Mr. Kasper was an enigma.

“Don’t mind that none, miss. Gabe always gets more’n his share of notice from the fillies.”

Elizabeth snapped her attention to Bear. His name suited him, she thought, as she looked way, way up into his grizzled face. “I beg your pardon?”

He nodded toward the docks, where Gabe and the woman were chatting cozily. Elizabeth curled her lip. It was disgusting for a woman to put on such an absurd display, especially right out in the open like that. And for Gabe to encourage her so…Good grief, he had a responsibility to the community as a role model after all the attention they’d given him.

“Has he acted any different since becoming a town hero?” During her research, Elizabeth had discovered that people heralded for valor quickly adapted to all the fanfare and added interest thrown their way.

Bear chuckled. “Not Gabe. Truth is, folks in these parts have pretty much always looked up to him and his brothers. I don’t think anyone doubted Gabe would do something once he noticed what had happened. Any one of his brothers would have done the same.”

“He mentioned his brothers. Can you tell me something about them?”

“Be glad to!” Bear mopped a tattered bandanna around his face, then stuck it in his back pocket. “The oldest brother, Sawyer, is the town doc, and a damn good one to boot. He takes care of everyone from the newborns to the elders. Got hisself married to Honey, a real sweet little woman, about a year back. And that cut his patient load down considerable like. Seems some of the womenfolk coming to see him weren’t really sick, just ambitious.”

Bear grinned, but Elizabeth shook her head in exasperation.

“Right after Sawyer is Morgan, the sheriff, who generally looks like he just crawled right off a cactus, but he’s as nice as they come as long as you stay on his good side.” He leaned close to whisper, “And folks in these parts definitely stay on his good side.”

“Lovely.” Elizabeth tried to picture these two respectable men related to Gabe, who looked like a beach bum, but she couldn’t quite manage it.

“Morgan up and married Honey’s sister, Misty, just a bit after Sawyer married. He smiles more these days—that is, when she doesn’t have him in a temper. She does seem to enjoy riling that boy.”

It was a sure sign of Bear’s age that he’d call a man older than Gabe a boy.

“Then there’s Jordan, the best damn vet Buckhorn County has to offer. He can sing to an animal, and damned if it won’t sing back! That man can charm a bird out of a tree or lull an ornery mule asleep. He’s still a bachelor.”

Good grief. Elizabeth could do no more than blink. Doctor, sheriff, vet. It was certainly an impressive family. “What does Gabe do for a living?”

Bear scratched beneath his chin, thinking, and then he looked away. “Thing is, Gabe’s the youngest, and he don’t yet know what it is he wants to do. Mostly he’s a handyman, sort of a jack-of-all-trades. That boy can do just about anything with his hands. He’s—”

“He doesn’t have a job?” Elizabeth didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but Rosemary had told her Gabe was twenty-seven years old, and to Elizabeth’s mind, that was plenty old enough to have figured out your life’s ambition.

“Well…”

She shook her head, cutting off whatever lame excuses Bear was prepared to make. “I got the impression from a few things Rosemary said that he worked here.”

A cold, wet hand clamped onto her shoulder, and Elizabeth jumped, then whirled to see Gabe, dripping lake water, standing right behind her. His grin wasn’t pleasant, and she wished that she hadn’t gotten engrossed in what Bear had to say, that she’d kept at least part of her attention on Gabe.

She looked around him, but his newest female companion was nowhere to be found. Which, she supposed, accounted for his presence. Surely if any other woman was available he’d still be ignoring her.

Gabe nodded to Bear, more or less dismissing him, then pulled Elizabeth around and started walking a few feet away. In a voice that only barely bordered on cordial, he said, “Well, Miss Nosy, I do work here, but I’m not employed here. There’s a definite difference. And from now on, I’d appreciate it if you kept your questions to yourself. I don’t much like people prying into my personal life, especially when I already told ’em not to.”

Elizabeth gulped. No amount of forced pleasantness could mask his irritation. She tried to inch away from his hot, controlling grasp, but he wasn’t letting go. So she simply stopped.

Gabe turned to face her. They were once again standing in the bright sun, on a gravel drive that declined down the slight hill, used to launch boats into the lake. The glare off the white gravel was blinding. She had to shield her eyes with one hand while balancing her notepad, pen and purse with the other. Looking directly at him both flustered and annoyed her. He was an incredibly…potent male, no denying that. Standing there in nothing more than wet, worn, faded cutoffs—and those hanging entirely too low on his lean hips—he was a devastatingly masculine sight. A sparse covering of light brown hair, damp from his swim, laid over solid muscles in his chest and down his abdomen, then swirled around his navel. He was deeply tanned, his legs long, his big feet bare. He seemed impervious to the sharp gravel and the hot sun. And as she watched, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You be sure and let me know when you’re done looking so I can finish telling you what I think of your prying ways.”

The heat that washed over her face had nothing to do with the summer sun and everything to do with humiliation.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that you don’t look like the other men.”

He sighed dramatically. “I take it we’re talking about the other supposed heroes?”

“Yes.”

“And how did they look?”

Elizabeth hesitated, wondering how to explain it. She couldn’t just say they had all been fully dressed, because thinking it made her blush more. At the moment, Gabe Kasper looked more naked than not, and even the jean shorts didn’t help, considering they were soaked and clinging to his hard thighs, to his…Don’t go there.

She cleared her throat. “They were all more…serious. They have careers they take great pride in, and they enjoyed telling their stories.”

“But I told you, I don’t have a story to tell.”

“Your friends disagree.”

His arms dropped and he scowled at her. Strangely, Elizabeth noticed he was watching her mouth instead of looking into her eyes. It made it easier for her because staring directly at him kept her edgy for some reason. There was so much expression in his eyes, as if he wasn’t just looking at her, but really seeing her. It was an unusual experience for her.

But with him looking at her mouth, she felt nervous in a different way, and without thinking, she licked her lips. His gaze shot to hers, and he stared, eyes narrowed, for two heartbeats while she held her breath and felt faint for some stupid reason. She gulped air and fanned her burning face.

Relaxing slightly, he shook his head, then said, “Look, Lizzy—”

“Don’t call me that. My name is Elizabeth.”

“And as long you’re disregarding my wishes, I think I’ll just disregard yours. Besides, Lizzy sorta suits you. It sounds like the proper name for a red-haired girl.”

Elizabeth wanted to smack him. But since he’d come right out and all but admitted he wanted to annoy her, she decided to deny him the satisfaction. When she remained silent, he smiled, then continued. “This is all foolishness. Now I’m asking you nicely to let it drop.”

“I can’t. I’ve decided you’ll make a really good contrast to the other men in my study. See, you’re very different, and I can’t, in good conscience, leave out such an important factor in my study. In order for the study to be accurate, I need to take data from every angle—”

He raised a hand, looking annoyed enough for his head to explode. “Enough of that already. This is your summer break, right?”

She watched him cautiously. “Yes.”

“So why work so damn hard on summer break? Why not just cut loose a little and have some fun before going back to school?” He looked her over again and judging by the tightness of his mouth and the expression in his eyes, obviously found her lacking. “You’re so prissed up, you have to be sweltering. No one puts on that many clothes in this heat.”

Her shoulders were so stiff they hurt, and her stomach was churning. How dare he attack her on such a personal level? “Obviously someone does. I consider my dress totally appropriate.”

“Appropriate to what?”

“To interviewing a hero.”

His head dropped forward and he groaned. “You are the most stubbornest damn woman….”

“Me? You’re the one who refuses to answer a few simple questions.”

Their voices had risen and Gabe, with a heartfelt sigh, took her arm again and started farther up the gravel drive.

“Where are we going?” She had a vague image of him dragging her off and wringing her neck. Even a hero could only be pushed so far, and with the way everyone worshiped him, she didn’t think she’d get much help.

“We’re drawing attention and it isn’t the kind of attention I like.”

With a sneer she couldn’t quite repress, she asked, “You mean it isn’t purely female?”

Glancing her way, he grinned. “That’s right.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

“Here we go. Have a seat.”

Luckily, this time it wasn’t a root he wanted to perch her on. The rough wooden picnic table was located beneath a tree—not an elm—and though it was partially covered with dried leaves, acorns and twigs, it was at least shaded.

Elizabeth had barely gotten herself settled before Gabe blurted, “Okay, what is it going to take to get you to back off?”

He wanted to bargain with her? Surprised, but also hopeful because she really did want to add his story to the others—he was proving to be the exception that broke the hero mold she’d mentally formed—Elizabeth carefully considered her answer. Finally, she said, “If you’d just answer five questions…”

“I’ll answer one. But it’ll cost you.”

Her relief died a short death. “How much? I have a job, but it’s barely enough to pay my tuition so I couldn’t offer you anything significant—”

He looked so totally and utterly appalled, she knew she’d misunderstood. His expression said so, but in case she hadn’t caught on, he leaned close, caging her in with one arm on the picnic table, the other on her shoulder, and said through his teeth, “You actually think I’d take money from you?”

Elizabeth tried leaning back, but she didn’t have much room to maneuver, not without toppling over. “You…you said you don’t have a job.”

“Wrong.” He looked ready to do that neck wringing she’d worried about. “I said I’m not employed here. For your information, Red, I more than pay my own way. Not that my financial situation is any business of yours.”

“But…” It was one of the questions in her survey, though luckily this time she had the good sense to forfeit it. “Of course not. I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“If you want me to answer a question, you’ll have to loosen up. And before you start widening those big blue eyes at me again, I’m not suggestin’ an illicit affair.”

Her heart almost stopped, but for the life of her she wasn’t entirely sure if it was relief or disappointment she felt. No one had ever offered her an illicit affair, and the idea held a certain amount of appeal. Not that she’d ever accept, of course, but still…“What, exactly, are you suggesting?”

“A swim. In the lake. Me and you.”

The big green murky lake behind her? The lake he’d pulled that enormous fish out of—then thrown it back so it was still in there? The lake where any number of things could be living? Never mind that she didn’t even own a bathing suit, the thought of getting into that lake positively terrified her. Hoping against hope, she said, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s easy, Lizzy. I want you here tomorrow, same time, wearing a swimsuit instead of all that armor. And I want you to relax with me, to take a nice leisurely swim. Maybe if you loosen up a bit, I won’t even mind so much answering a question for you.”

To make certain she understood before she agreed to anything, she asked, “And in exchange, you’ll answer my questions?”

“No, I’ll answer one question. Just one. Any question you like. You can even make notes in that damn little book of yours.” He eyed her mouth again, then shook his head. “And who knows, if all goes well, maybe we can work out another deal.”

“For another question?”

He shrugged, looking reluctant but strangely resigned.

Elizabeth had the sneaking suspicion he was trying to bluff her, to force her to back out. But she was fascinated. Such unusual behavior for a hero! She could almost imagine the response she’d get from this thesis—if anyone even believed it. But there had to be some redeeming information there, something that would make her research all that more complete, valuable and applicable.

In the end, there was really only one decision she could make. She held out her hand, and after a moment, Gabe took it.

His hand was so large, so tanned. And he felt hot. She gulped, shored up her courage, and with a smile that almost hurt, she said, “Deal.”

HE COULDN’T BELIEVE he was running late.

If anything, he’d planned to be on the dock, sunning himself, a man without a care, when she arrived. Truth was, he felt strangely anxious. He grinned at the novelty of it.

“You’ve been doing a lot of that this morning.”

Gabe turned to his brother Sawyer. “What?”

“Smiling like a fool.”

“Maybe I have good reason.”

“And what would that be?”

“None of your business.” Gabe, still grinning, finished running caulk around the windowpane then wiped his hands on a small towel. “That should do you, Sawyer. From now on, don’t let kids play baseball in your office, hear?”

Honey hustled up to his side with a tall glass of iced tea. Bless her, he did like all the doting she felt compelled to do. Having a sister-in-law was a right nice thing. “Thanks, Honey.”

“What are you so happy about, Gabe?”

Uh oh. He glanced at Sawyer, saw his smirk and concentrated on drinking his tea. Sawyer knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t even consider telling Honey to mind her own business. By virtue of being female, she was due all the respect his brothers didn’t warrant. He just naturally tempered himself around women—well, all but Red. She seemed to bring out the oddest reactions from him. Damned if he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her again.

What would she look like in a bikini?

“There he goes, grinning again.”

“Actually,” Gabe said, ignoring his brother, “I was just thinking of a woman.” That was true enough, and not at all uncommon. In fact, Honey gave him a fond look of indulgence, patted his shoulder, then went to her husband’s side. Sawyer sure was a lucky cuss. Honey was a sexy little woman—not that he thought of her that way, her being in the family and all. But he wasn’t blind. She was a real looker, and best of all, she loved his brother to distraction.

Sawyer gave a grievous sigh. “He’s in lust again. Just look at him.”

That drew Gabe up short. Lust? Hell, no, he didn’t feel lust for Little Red. Amusement maybe, because she was unaccountably funny with her freckles and her red corkscrew curls that hung all the way down to her fanny.

And frustration, because she simply had no idea how to accept no for an answer and she trussed herself up in those schoolmarm clothes, to the point a guy couldn’t even tell what he was seeing.

Maybe even annoyance, because her stubbornness rivaled his brother Morgan’s, and that was saying a mouthful. But not lust.

He grunted, earning an odd look from Sawyer.

His invitation for a swim was simply his way of keeping the upper hand. And thinking that, he said to Sawyer, “If a funny little red-haired woman tries to talk to you about me, don’t tell her a damn thing, okay?”

Sawyer and Honey blinked at him in confusion, but he didn’t bother to explain. He hurried off. Knowing Red, if he was too late, she’d give up on him and go home. She wasn’t the type of woman who’d wait around, letting a guy think she’d be happy to see him when he did show up. No, Red would probably get her back all stiff and go off asking questions of every available body in the area.

And he really didn’t want anyone filling her head with that nonsense about heroes. Best that he talked to her himself. And that was another reason he’d engineered the date. No, take that back. Not a date. An appointment. Yeah, that sounded better. He’d arranged an appointment so that at least she’d get her stupid story straight.

Hell, he had plenty of reasons for seeing her again, and none of them were about lust.

He did wonder what she’d look like in a bikini, though.

SHE WAS STILL in full armor.

Gabe frowned as he climbed out of his car and started down the hill. Judging by the color of that long braid hanging almost to the dock, the woman with her back to him was one Miss Elizabeth Parks. And she wasn’t wearing a bikini. He consoled himself with the fact that at least she was waiting for him. There was a certain amount of masculine satisfaction in that.

The second he stepped on the dock, she turned her head. He noticed then that she was sitting cross-legged instead of dangling her feet in the water. She had her shoes and frilly little white socks on. Socks in this heat? He stopped and frowned at her. “Where’s your swimsuit?”

She frowned right back. “I have it on under my dress. Surely you didn’t think I’d drive here in it? And you’re late.”

She turned away and with her elbows on her knees, propped her chin on a fist and stared at the lake.

Gabe surveyed her stiff back and slowly approached. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect of her, so he said carefully, “I’m glad you waited.”

With a snort, she answered, “You made it a part of the deal. If I want to ask you one measly question, I had to be here.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I figured you’d show up sooner or later.”

Not exactly the response he’d hoped for. In fact, she’d taken all the fun out of finding her still here. “Well, skin out of those clothes then, so we can get in. It’s hot enough to send a lizard running for shade. That water’s going to feel good.”

She didn’t look at all convinced. Peering at him with one eye scrunched against the sunshine and her small pointed nose wrinkled, she said, “The thing is, I’m not at all keen on doing that.”

“What?”

“The swimsuit thing. I’ve never had much reason to swim, and this boat dock is pretty crowded….”

“You want privacy?” Now why did that idea intrigue him? But it was a good idea, not because he’d be alone with her. No, that had nothing to do with it. But that way, if she asked her dumb hero question, no one else would be around to contradict him.

He liked that idea. “We can take a fishing boat back to a cove. No one’s there, at least, not close. There might be a few fishermen trolling by, or the occasional skier, but they won’t get near enough to shore to look you over too good.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Your modesty will be preserved.” Except from me.

Her face colored. “It’s not that I think I’d draw much attention, you understand. It’s just not something I’m used to.”

With the way she managed to cover herself from shins to throat, he didn’t doubt it. “No problem. The cove is real peaceful. I swim there all the time. Come on.” He reached down a hand for her, trying not to look as excited as he suddenly felt. “Do you know how to swim?”

She ignored his hand and lumbered to her feet, dusting off her bottom as she did so. “Not really.”

Rather than let her get to him, he dropped his hand and pretended it didn’t matter. But he couldn’t recall ever having such a thing happen in his entire life, and he knew right then and there he didn’t like it worth a damn. “Then you’ll need a flotation belt. There’s some in the boat. You got a towel?”

“My stuff is there.” She pointed to the shore where a large colorful beach towel, a floppy brimmed hat and a pair of round, blue-lens sunglasses had been tossed. Next to the pile was her infamous notepad, which made him frown.

Gabe had his towel slung around his neck, his mirrored glasses already in place and his hat on backward. He carried a stocked cooler in his free hand. “Let’s go.”

He led her to a small metal fishing boat, then despite her efforts to step around him, helped her inside. The boat swayed, and she nearly lost her balance. She would have fallen overboard if he hadn’t held on to her.

He managed not to smirk.

He tossed her stuff in to her, then said, “Take a seat up front and put on a belt. If you fall in, it’ll keep you from drowning until I can fish you out.”

“Like you did the carp?”

Her teasing smile made his stomach tighten. “Naw, I kissed the fish and threw him back in for luck.” He glanced at her, then added, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Her owl-eyed expression showed her confusion. Let her wonder if he meant he wouldn’t kiss her or he wouldn’t throw her back. Maybe keeping her guessing would take some of the edge off her cockiness. He hid his satisfaction as he stepped into the boat and tilted the motor into the water. He braced his feet apart, gave the rip cord a tug, and the small trolling motor hummed to life.

After seating himself comfortably, he said, “We won’t break any speed records, but the ride’ll be smooth.”

“Is this your boat?”

“Naw. Belongs to Rosemary. But she lets me use it whenever I want.”

“Because you do work around the dock for her?”

Tendrils of hair escaped her long thick braid and whipped into her face. She held them back with one hand while she watched him. The dress she wore was made like a tent—no shape at all. From what he could see, it pulled on over her head, without a button or zipper or tie anywhere to be found. The neck was rounded and edged with lace, and the sleeves were barely there. But at least it was a softer material, something kind of like a T-shirt, and a pale yellow that complemented her red hair and bright blue eyes.

Gabe pulled himself away from that distraction and reminded himself that lust had nothing to do with his motivation today. He smiled at her. “Is that your question?”

“What?”

“Your one allotted question. You want to know about me working at the boat dock?”

Her frown was fierce. “Just making conversation.”

“Uh-huh. You know what I think? I think you figured you’d sneak a whole bunch of questions in on me and I wouldn’t notice.”

She bit her lips and looked away. Gabe couldn’t help but laugh out loud, it was so obvious she’d been caught. Damn, but she was a surprise. She sat there with her little feet pressed primly together—those damn lacy ankle socks somehow looking kind of sexy all of a sudden—while her snowy white sneakers got damp with the water in the bottom of the boat. Her hands were clasped together in her lap, holding onto her big floppy hat, her eyes squinted against the wind and sun. Her freckles were even more noticeable out here on the lake. She wasn’t exactly what you’d call a pretty woman, certainly not a bombshell like Sawyer’s Honey or Morgan’s Misty. But there was definitely something about her….

“Where are we going?”

She sat facing him in the boat, so he pointed behind her to where the land stretched out and the only living things in sight were a few cows grazing along the shoreline. The man-made lake was long and narrow, shaped a lot like a river with vacation cabins squeezed into tight rows along both sides. Several little fingers of water stretched out to form small coves here and there, only a few of which were still owned by farmers and hadn’t been taken over by developers. The land Gabe lived on with his brothers had a cove like that, a narrow extension of the main lake, almost entirely cut off from the boating traffic since it was so shallow. But it made for great swimming and fishing, which was what the brothers used it for.

Though they didn’t have any cows there, it was peaceful and natural and they loved it, refusing to sell no matter how many times they were asked and regardless of the offer. They jointly owned a lot of property, and in two spots runoff from the main lake had formed a smaller lake and a pond. Gabe intended to build a house on that site some day.

“We’re going there?” Lizzy asked, interrupting his thoughts. She sounded horrified.

Gabe bobbed an eyebrow. “It’s real private.”

“Are the cows friendly?”

“Most bovines are. You just don’t want to walk behind them.”

“They kick?”

She sounded appalled again, so he had to really struggle to keep from laughing. “Nope. But you have to be real careful where you step.”

“Oh.”

Slowing the motor, Gabe let the boat glide forward until they’d rounded the cove and nudged as far inside as possible. Someone in years past had installed a floating dock, but it had definitely seen better days. It tended to list to one side, with three corners out of the water and one corner under, covered by moss. But at least it was a good six feet square and didn’t sink if you climbed on it.

Gabe threw a rope around a metal cleat on the side of the dock. It was strange, but his heart was already pounding like mad—he had no idea why—and he had to force himself to speak calmly.

He looked at her, saw her shy, averted gaze and felt the wild thrum of excitement. He swallowed hard. “This is as far as we get, so you can skin out of that dress now.”

She peeked at him, then away. “Why don’t you go ahead and get in, then I’ll…inch my way in?”

“Have you ever driven a boat?”

“No.”

“Do you know how to start it?”

She glanced dubiously at the pull start for the motor, then shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

He nodded. “So at least I know you’re not plotting on getting me overboard then taking off.”

Her eyes widened. “I wouldn’t do that.” She chewed her lip, looking undecided, then admitted, “It’s just that I hadn’t figured on how to go about stripping off my clothes out here in the open.”

“With me and the cows watching?”

“Right.”

He could have offered a few suggestions, but that would be crass. Besides, he was afraid his suggestions would offend her. Likely they would.

Oh, hell, he knew damn good and well they would.

“All right. I’ll turn my back. But don’t take too long. You can put your folded things on the cooler so they won’t get wet.” Before he could change his mind, he turned his back, stepped on a seat and dove in. He heard her squeal as the small boat rocked wildly.

The water was shallow, so he made the dive straight out, and seconds later his head broke the water. He could easily stand, so he waded to the dock, keeping his head averted, then rested his folded arms over the edge of the aged wood. He could hear her undressing.

“The water feels great.” His voice shook, damn it.

“It’s…green.”

He cleared his throat. “Because of the moss.” She probably had her shoes off already, and those ridiculous, frilly, feminine little socks that looked like they’d come from a fetish catalogue, though he doubted she knew it. He pictured her wearing those socks—and nothing else. The picture was vague because he had no idea what the hell her body looked like, but the thought still excited him. Dumb.

Did she only have on the dress, or was she wearing other stuff over her suit? He cleared his throat and mustered his control. “Aren’t you done yet?”

“Well…yeah.”

His head snapped around, and he stared. She stood there, pale slender arms folded over her middle, long legs pressed together, shoulders squared as if in challenge. And her suit wasn’t a bikini, not that it mattered one little bit.

“Damn, woman.” The words were a choked whisper, hot and touched with awe. It felt like his eyes bugged out of his head.

She shifted nervously, uncrossing and recrossing her arms, taking her weight from one foot to the other, making the supple muscles in her calves and thighs move seductively.

Gabe had no idea if she blushed or not because he couldn’t get his gaze off her body and onto her face.

The one-piece suit was simple, a pale lime green, and it covered enough skin to make a grandma happy. But what it left uncovered…

Her plump breasts made his mouth water with the instinct of Pavlov’s dog. High, round…he wondered for a single heartbeat if they were real or enhanced. He stared, hard, unaware of her discomfort, her uncertainty. Nothing in the suit suggested it capable of that incredible support. There were no underwires, no lined bra cups. The suit was a sleek, simple design, and it hugged her like her own skin.

The visible outline of soft nipples drew him, making his imagination go wild. He wanted to see them tight and puckered, straining for his mouth.

Breathing deeply, he traced her body with his gaze, to the shaping of her rib cage, the indention of a navel, the rounded slope of her mound.

Heat rolled through him, making his nostrils flare. He could easily picture her naked, and did so, tormenting himself further.

Surely even the cows were agog. She had the most symmetrically perfect feminine body he’d ever seen, and the lake water no longer felt so cool. His groin grew thick and heavy, hot. It was unexpected, this instantaneous reaction he had to her. Women didn’t affect him this way. He’d learned control early on and hadn’t had an unwanted erection since his teens. He chose when to be involved; he did not get sucked into a vortex of lust!

But there was no denying what he felt at this moment. It annoyed him, with himself, not her. She did nothing to entice him, other than to stand there and let him look his fill.

Just as he’d suspected, her freckles decorated other parts of her body, not just her face. Her shoulders were lightly sprinkled with them—and her thighs. His heartbeat lost its even rhythm. Damn. He hadn’t known freckles could be so incredibly sexy.

One thing was certain, he was sure glad he’d brought her here so that every guy on the lake wasn’t able to gawk at her.

Hell, he was doing enough gawking for all of them.

Pulling himself together, he cleared his throat again and looked at her face. Her head was down, her long braid hanging over a shoulder, touching a hipbone. He bit his lip, feeling the heavy thumping of his heart, the tautness of his muscles. “Lizzy?”

Her arms tightened around herself. “Hmm?”

Belatedly he understood her anxiety at being on display. He felt like a jerk, and tried for a teasing tone despite the urgency hammering through him. “You comin’ in or not?”

“Do I get a choice?”

He didn’t hesitate. “No.”

Slowly her gaze lifted to his. “You’d better be worth this.”

Oh, he’d show her just how worthwhile he could—No, wait. Wrong thought. He hadn’t brought her here for that. He’d brought her here to convince her to forget about her silly ideas of heroism.

He scowled with determination, but his carnal thoughts seemed less and less wrong with every second she stood there, her small body the epitome of sexual temptation. He unglued his tongue and said, “Come on. Quit stalling.”

She licked her lips and he groaned, practically feeling the stroke of her small pink tongue.

She glared at him suspiciously, then looked over the side of the boat, looked at him and licked her lips again. “How?”

Without even thinking about it, he found himself wading to the boat, holding up his arms and inviting her into them.

And just like that, she closed her eyes, muttered a quiet prayer and fell in against him.

GABE FOUND his arms filled with warm, soft woman. It wasn’t the first time, of course, but it sure felt different from any other time. Unexpectedly, her scent surrounded him. Lizzy smelled sweet, with a unique hint of musk that pulled at him. Her fingers were tight in his hair, her arms wrapped around his head in a death grip. His mind went almost blank. He could feel her firm, rounded bottom against his right forearm where he’d instinctively hooked her closer, to keep her from falling when she’d jumped in against him. His left arm was around her narrow waist, his large hand splayed wide so that his fingers spanned her back.

More momentous than that, though, was the fact that his face was pressed between her breasts. They certainly felt real enough. Jolted by the sexual press of her body, he froze, not even breathing. She was wrapped around him like a vine, but she didn’t seem to notice the intimacy of their position.

Gabe noticed. Damn, but he noticed.

He shifted the tiniest bit so that his hand could cuddle a full, round cheek, and felt the shock of the touch all the way to his throbbing groin. She panted, but not with excitement.

“Lizzy?” His voice was muffled, thanks to having his face buried in lush breasts. His hand on her bottom continued to caress her, almost with a will of its own.

Her arms tightened, her legs shifting to move around his hips in a jerky, desperate attempt to get closer to him. The movement brought the open, hot juncture of her thighs against his abdomen, and he sucked in a startled, strangled breath. If they were naked, if he slipped her down just a few inches, he could be inside her.

He was losing his grip on propriety real fast.

“Lizzy,” he said, speaking low to keep from jarring her, “you’re afraid of the water?”

Her growled, “No…yes,” almost made him smile. Even now, she tried to hide behind her prickly pride.

“It’s okay. There’s nothing in here to bother you.” Nothing but him, only she didn’t need to know that.

“I’ve never…never swam in a lake before.”

Her lips were right above his ear. She sounded breathless, and her voice trembled. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he crooned, and then, because he couldn’t help himself, he turned his face slightly and nuzzled his nose against the plump, firm curve of her breast.

She screamed, making his ears ring. In the next instant, she launched herself out of his arms and thrashed her way wildly to the floating dock. The back view of her awkward, hasty climb from the water didn’t do a thing to cool his libido. She seemed to be all long legs and woman softness and enticing freckles. The suit, now wet, was even more revealing. Not more revealing than a bikini, but that didn’t seem to matter to his heated libido. He watched her huddle on the dock, wrapping her arms around herself, then hurriedly survey the water.

He owed her an apology. That made him disgruntled enough to grouse, “I’ll be deaf for an hour. You screech like a wet hen.”

Lizzy shook her head, and her teeth chattered. “Something touched me. Something brushed against my leg!”

Gabe stalled. So she hadn’t screamed over his forwardness? From the looks of her, he thought, seeing how wild-eyed she appeared, she probably hadn’t even noticed that he was turned on, that he’d been attempting to kiss her breast. Making a small sound of exasperation, Gabe said, “It was probably just a fish.”

She shuddered in visible horror. “What kind of fish?”

He looked around, peering through the water, which was stirred up from her churning retreat. “There.” Pointing, he indicated a small silvery fish pecking at bubbles on the surface of the lake.

Lizzy carefully leaned forward on her hands and knees, making her breasts sway beneath the wet green suit. “Is it a baby?”

He kept his gaze glued to her body. His tongue felt thick and his jaw tight. “No. A bluegill. They don’t get much bigger than that.”

Her gaze lifted and met his, forcing him to stop staring at her body. “What’d you expect,” he asked, “Jaws?”

Her face heated. To Gabe, she looked sexy and enticing and adorable, perched on the edge of the floating dock, her bottom in the air, her eyes wide and her cheeks rosy. Her brows angled. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Nope.” He waded over to her then leaned on his forearms. No way could he join her on the dock. His wet cutoffs wouldn’t do much to hide his erection. “I didn’t realize you were afraid of the water,” he told her gently. “You should have said something.”

After a deep breath, she sat back. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “I was embarrassed,” she admitted with a sideways look at him. “I hate being cowardly.”

“It’s not cowardly to be unsure of things you’re not familiar with.”

“Will you still answer my question?”

Annoyed that she wouldn’t forget her purpose for even a minute, he shrugged. “Get it over with.”

Her blue eyes lit with excitement, and she dropped her arms to lean toward him. Her nipples, he couldn’t help noticing, were long and pointed.

She smiled. “What were you thinking when you went into the water to save those kids?”

“Thinking?”

“Yes. You saw they were in trouble, and you wanted to help. What did you think about? How you’d get them out, the danger, that your own life wasn’t important…”

“Oh, for pity’s sake. It wasn’t anything like that.” Forgetting that he needed to stay in the water, he levered himself up beside her on the dock in one fluid movement. The dock bobbed, making her gasp and flatten her hands on the wood for balance. Water sluiced off his body as he dropped next to her then shook his head like a wet dog. Lizzy made a grab for him to keep from getting knocked in, but she released him just as quickly and frowned at him.

“So what was it like?”

He leaned back on his elbows and surveyed the bright sun, the cloudless sky. “Hell, I don’t know. I didn’t think anything. I saw the boat, saw the kids—and just reacted.” Before she could say anything about that, he added, “Anyone would have done the same.”

“No one did do the same. Only you.”

He shrugged. “I’d already gone in. There was no reason for anyone else to.”

“You were quicker to react.”

“Maybe I just noticed the problem first.”

When she shifted to face him, Gabe again eyed her breasts. He felt obsessed. Would her nipples be pink or a rosy brown?

She touched his arm. “Were you afraid?”

Annoyed by her persistence, he leaned back on the dock, covering his eyes with a forearm. “That’s another question.” Gabe wondered if she even realized he was male. He had a raging hard-on, he’d been staring at her breasts with enough intensity to set her little red head on fire, and she hadn’t even noticed. He snorted. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Maybe she found him so lacking, so unappealing, he could be naked and it wouldn’t affect her.

Her small hand smacked against his shoulder. “Not fair! You didn’t even really answer the first question.”

He lowered his arm enough to glare at her. “You didn’t really swim, so we’re even.”

Mulish determination set her features, then she turned to the water. Distaste and fear stiffened her shoulders and, amazed, Gabe realized she was going to get in.

“Lizzy…” He reached for her shoulder.

“If a snake eats me, it’ll be on your head!” She stuck a toe in the water.

Smiling, Gabe pulled her back. “All right. I’ll answer your question.”

The tension seemed to melt right out of her. “You will?”

He sighed long and loud to let her know she was a pest. Yeah, right. “It beats seeing that look of terror on your face.” He flicked her nose as he said it, to let her know he was teasing.

She paid him no mind, speaking to herself in a mumble. “I wish I had my notebook.”

Gabe came to his knees, caught the line holding the boat secure and pulled it in. It was a stretch, but he was able to reach her bag and hand it to her. “There you go.”

Her smile was beatific. “Thank you.”

He gave her a gentlemanly nod. She didn’t notice his body, but at least she appreciated his manners. “No problem. Not that I can tell you anything interesting enough to write down.”

The look of concentration on her face as she pulled out her notepad told him she disagreed. Gabe thought how cute she was when she went all serious and sincere.

Not that a cute, redheaded virago should have interested him. Beyond making him unaccountably hot, that was.

Nose wrinkled against the glare of the sun, she looked at him and said, “I’m ready.”

She looked ready, he thought, unable to keep his mind focused on the fact that he wasn’t interested. Posed on the dock as she was, she made a fetching picture. Her long legs were folded to the side in the primmest manner possible, given her body was more bare than not. She tilted her head and pursed her lips in serious cogitation. The bright sunshine glinted off her hair, showing different colored strands of gold and amber and bronze. Midway down, her braid was darker from being wet, and it rested, heavy and thick, along her side. Her skin shone with a fine mist of sweat, intensifying her sweet scent so that with every small breeze he breathed her in.

His skin felt too hot, but not because of the sun.

Gabe wondered what she’d do if he eased her backward and covered her with his body. Would she scream again? He groaned, causing her to lift one brow. She hadn’t screamed last time because of him. No, she hadn’t even noticed his attention.

“What’s wrong?”

Other than the fact he was attracted to a woman who shouldn’t have appealed to him and didn’t return the favor? He groaned again. “Not a thing.” Once again he reclined on the small dock, crossing his arms behind his head. He was too long for the thing, so he let his knees stick over the side and hung his feet in the water. “Let’s see. What did I think? Well, I cursed. I know that.”

Pencil to paper, she asked, “What did you say?”

“It’s not something to be repeated in front of a lady.”

“Oh. I understand.”

She scribbled quickly across her paper, making Gabe curious. But he already knew she wasn’t about to reveal her words to him. “Thing is,” he admitted, “I don’t really remember thinking anything. I saw the kids and the woman, saw the boat, and I just dove in. I knew they could get hurt, and I knew I could help.” He shrugged, not looking at her. “It’s no more complicated than that.”

“So,” she said, her eyes narrowed in thoughtful speculation, “your heroism was instinctive, like a basic part of you?”

“It wasn’t heroism, damn it, but yeah, I guess it was instinctive to just dive in and do what I could.”

“Did you even think about the danger to yourself?”

Here he was, Gabe thought, lounging in front of her, half naked, and she hadn’t even looked at him once. He knew, because he’d been watching her, waiting to see what she’d do when she saw he was aroused. She’d barely noticed him at all except to give him her disapproving looks.

It nettled him that she was on this ridiculous hero kick. He was a man, same as any other, but that obviously didn’t interest her at all. He wanted her interest, though he shouldn’t have. But looking at her made him forget that she wasn’t his type, that he didn’t care what she thought, that he was only here today on a lark, as a way to pass the time and have some fun.

He wasn’t used to a woman being totally oblivious to his masculinity, and he damn sure didn’t like it.

He wouldn’t, in fact, tolerate it.

Speaking in a low, deliberately casual tone, he reminded her, “That’s another question. I told you I’d answer one.”

“But…”

“We could make another deal.” He closed his eyes as he said it, as if it didn’t matter to him one way or the other. The ensuing silence was palpable. He felt the dock rock the tiniest bit and knew she was shifting. In nervousness? In annoyance? If he looked at her, he’d be able to read the emotions in her big blue eyes. But he didn’t want to see if it was only frustration that lit her gaze. He waited, held his breath.

And finally she said, “All right. What deal?”

He opened his eyes and pinned her, his heart pumping hard, his muscles twitching. “I’ll answer another question—for a kiss.”

She blinked at him, her long, gold-tipped lashes lazily drifting down and up again, as if she couldn’t quite believe what he’d said. “A kiss?”

“Mm.” He pointed to his mouth. His gaze never left her face, watching her closely. Anticipation, thick and electric, hummed in his veins. “Right here, right now. One question, one kiss.”

She shifted again. The lake was still, the only sounds those of a cow occasionally bawling or the soft splash of a frog close to shore. Lizzy nibbled her lips—lush, wet lips. Her gaze, bright and direct, never left his face. She drew a deep breath that made her breasts strain against the clinging material of the suit.

Her blue eyes darkened and her words, soft and uncertain, made him jerk in response.

“What…” she whispered, her breath catching before she cleared her throat and started again. “What if I kiss you twice?”

AT LEAST he was smooth-shaven today, Elizabeth thought as she watched Gabe’s face, saw his eyes glitter and grow intent. She felt tense from her toes to her eyebrows, struggling endlessly to keep her gaze on his face and off his lean, muscled body. He was by far the most appealing man she’d ever known—and the most maddening.

When he continued to watch her, his eyes heavier, the blue so hot they looked electric, she made a sound of impatience. “Well?”

In husky tones, he asked, “Two kisses, hm?”

Much more and she’d be racing for the shore. She couldn’t take his intensity, the way he stared at her, stroked her with his gaze. Her breasts felt full, her belly sweetly pulled with some indefinable ache. What could he possibly hope to gain with his present attitude? She didn’t for a minute think he was actually attracted to her. For one thing, men simply didn’t pay that much attention to her. More often than not, she could be invisible for all the notice they took. Secondly, she still remembered his reaction when they’d met. Gabriel Kasper had found her amusing, annoying and, judging by the way he’d looked her over, totally unappealing.

Perhaps, she continued to reason, he only hoped to intimidate her! That would certainly make sense. She swallowed hard and refused to back down. She needed his knowledge. She craved the information that would make her understand what special qualities created a hero. Or a heroine.

His mouth, firm and sensual, wholly masculine, twitched slightly. “Two kisses, two questions.”

It was what she’d wanted. And then he added, “Ten kisses, ten questions—but understand, Lizzy, I’m only a man. Kisses are all I can barter and remain a…gentleman.” He turned his head slightly toward her, and his voice dropped. “Or does that matter?”

She stiffened. Did he suggest her kisses could make him lose control? Not likely! Mustering her courage, she asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“This…what?”

She waved a hand at his lazy form. “This game. Why trade for kisses? Why trade at all? Is it really so hard to answer a short interview?”

His jaw tightened, and he shut his eyes again. After a moment, still looking more asleep than alert, he said, “You need to loosen up a little, Red. It’s a nice afternoon, the sun is warm, the water’s cool. We’re all alone. Why not play a little?” He looked at her, his gaze probing. “Is the idea of kissing me so repulsive?”

She filled her lungs with a deep breath. So she was just a game, a way to pass the time. The arrogant jerk. She’d have to remember to make a note of that, that some heroes were not always perfect in their behavior, some of them enjoyed toying with women.

She straightened her shoulders, refusing to let him intimidate her. “No, not at all.”

“Then we don’t have a problem, do we?”

The only problem, evidently, was her inhibition. But in the face of all she could learn from him, did her reserve really matter? Suddenly determined, she squelched her nervousness and said with firm resolve, “Okay, a kiss for a question.”

She waited, braced for his sensual assault, but Gabe simply continued to watch her. Not by so much as the flick of an eyelash did he move. Her stomach cramped the tiniest bit and she lifted an eyebrow.

She was both disappointed and relieved when she asked, “You’ve changed your mind?”

With one indolent shake of his head, Gabe crooked a finger at her. “C’mere, Red. You’re going to do the kissing, not me.”

In reaction to his potent look, more than her stomach cramped, but the feeling wasn’t at all unpleasant.

“Oh.” She looked at his gorgeous body stretched out in front of her—and started shaking. His shoulders were wide and bunched with muscles, as were his biceps. The undersides of his arms were smooth, slightly lighter than the rest of his skin. She’d never considered a man’s armpits sexy before—just the thought was ludicrous—but she’d never seen Gabriel Kasper’s. Seeing the hair under his arms was somehow too intimate, like a private showing. She looked away from that part of him.

His chest, tanned and sprinkled with golden brown hair, had the lean hard contours that spoke of a natural athlete. Her pulse fluttered.

His abdomen was flat, sculpted, and if his underarms were too personal, his navel was downright sexual. The way his body hair swirled around it, then became a silky line that disappeared into the very low waistband of his shorts…Her eyes widened.

With his wet cutoffs clinging to his body, there was no way to miss his obvious arousal. Fascinated, she couldn’t help but stare for a moment. Never, not in real life, anyway, had she seen an erection. Heat exploded inside her, making her cheeks pulse, her vision blur.

Her gaze flew to his face, desperate, confused, excited. His grin, slow and wicked, taunted her. He didn’t say a word, and she knew he was waiting for her to back down.

She couldn’t. Not now, not with him challenging her. But…

Licking her lips, Elizabeth croaked, “Are you sure we should do this?”

He shrugged one hard shoulder in a show of negligence. “No one will see. Don’t be a coward, Lizzy. It’s just a kiss.”

Just a kiss. She remembered how those women on the dock had hung on him, how every woman who passed in a boat had stared at him with hunger. He was used to kissing, used to so much more. She couldn’t recall any other man in all her acquaintance ever demanding such a thing from her. No wonder she was at a loss as to how to proceed. She preferred to arm herself with knowledge, to learn from a book what she didn’t understand. But she hadn’t known to research this particular theme. She frowned with that thought. Were there books to help you bone up on kissing a sexy-as-sin, half-dressed reclining man?

She eyed him warily. “Why don’t you…sit up?” The idea of leaning over him, of being that close to so much masculine flesh, flustered her horribly.

Without hesitation, Gabe shook his head. “Naw, I’m already comfortable. So quit stalling.”

He was right; the quicker she got it over with, the better. Like getting a tooth pulled, it meant just a flinch of pain, and then you were done.

Not giving herself time to think about it, she slapped one hand flat on the dock beside his head, bent down and brushed her mouth over his in a flash of movement. She straightened just as quickly and, avoiding his gaze, put her pencil to paper. Her voice shook slightly, but she ignored the tremor as she asked, “Now, when you leaped into the water with the runaway boat, were you afraid?”

“No.”

She waited, her pencil ready, but he said no more. Elizabeth rounded on him, her nerves too frazzled for more games. “That’s an awfully simplified answer.”

He gave her a wry look. “It was an awfully simplified kiss.”

Unable to help herself, she looked at his mouth. Her lips still tingled from the brief contact with his. It took all her concentration not to lick her lips, not to chew on them. Her heartbeat was still racing too quickly, her stomach was in knots of anticipation…no! Dread, not anticipation. She had to be philosophical. “You mean, if I made the kiss longer…”

So softly she could barely hear him, he said, “Why don’t you give it a try and see?”

She could do this! She was not a fainthearted ninny. Determination stiffened her spine. Sensual awareness sharpened her senses. She gave one quick nod.

Laying the pencil and paper aside, she bent, clasped her palms over his ears to anchor both him and herself, then kissed him for all she was worth.

Never having done much kissing, she had no idea if she was doing it right. But she mashed her mouth tightly to his, turned her head subtly so their lips meshed, and sighed. Or maybe it was more a growl filled with resolution.

His lips felt firm, warm. This close, his scent was stronger, drifting over her, making her insides fill with a new and unexpected need. He was so hot, his skin where they touched almost burning her. Her chin bumped his, their noses rubbed together, and her wrists rested on his silky hot shoulders. She stopped moving her mouth and simply breathed deeply.

Gabe groaned, then promptly laughed, startling her enough that she sat up and stared at him in hurt and confusion.

With a small smile, using only one rough finger, he stroked her bottom lip. His words were as gentle as his touch, and just as devastating. “You haven’t done much kissing, have you, Lizzy?”

Indignation would be misplaced; obviously, he could already tell she was inexperienced, so why should she deny it or be embarrassed? He could see what she looked like, had even used the same insulting taunt of Red she’d heard in grade school. He could probably guess at the other names—freckle face and scarecrow. And no doubt he understood the way she’d been ignored in high school, when all the boys were chasing cheerleaders with bubbly personalities and model faces.

None of that hurt her anymore. She had found more important things to do with her time. With an accepting shrug, she agreed. “Pitifully little, actually.” And even that was an exaggeration.

Amazingly, his smile turned seductive. He came up on his right elbow, wrapped the fingers of his left hand around her nape and pulled her close. Against her mouth, he whispered, “Then allow me.”

His tongue…Oh gracious. His mouth opened hers with almost no effort. His tongue touched, teased, not really entering her mouth, but making her crazed with small licks and tastes, softly, wetly stroking. She held herself very still so as not to disturb him or interrupt his progress.

Slowly, in infinitesimal degrees, he pulled his mouth away. His hand still held her neck, his fingers caressing, and he stared at her mouth. “You’re not kissing me back, Lizzy.”

“I…” She hadn’t realized he wanted her to. All her senses had been attuned to what he was doing, not what she might do. “Sorry.”

With a groan, he took her mouth again, not so gently this time, a hungry greed coming through to curl her toes and make her fingers go numb. Elizabeth leaned into him, tilted her head the tiniest bit to better accept his mouth. She braced her hands against his chest, then jerked at how hot his skin was, the way his chest hair felt on her palms. Her breasts tingled, and below her stomach an insistent tingling demanded her attention.

She panted, and this time when his tongue touched her mouth, she captured it, stroking her tongue against him.

She wasn’t sure if it was her heartbeat or his that rocked her. His hand left her head and captured her elbow. She found herself being slowly lowered to the dock, but she didn’t care; she just wanted him to go on kissing her like this, creating the overwhelming turmoil inside her. She liked it. She liked him—his taste, his hardness, his scent.

His chest crushed her breasts, but not uncomfortably. It helped to ease the ache there, but then the ache intensified, especially when he moved, abrading her taut nipples. She gasped.

He was braced over her with his elbows on either side of her head. Tentatively, uncertain how far she should go, Elizabeth placed her hands on his back. His tongue stroked deeply and she moaned, arching into him.

Gabe pulled away with a curse. He stared into her eyes, his face so close she could see his individual lashes, and then with another soft curse he sat up and gave her his back.

She struggled for breath, not certain what had happened, if she’d done something wrong. She pressed her palms flat on the rough wooden dock and tried to secure herself. Her head was spinning, her heart beating so wildly she thought it might punch right out of her chest. Her lungs felt constricted, and she couldn’t get enough air, which forced her to pant. And there was the most delicious tingling sensation deep inside her.

Gabe ran a hand though his hair, but he kept his back to her. She could see the straight line of his spine, the shift of his muscles as he, too, breathed deeply, quickly. With his attention elsewhere, she devoured him with her eyes. His skin was bronzed, testimony to how much time he spent on the lake, and a striking contrast to his fair hair and burning blue eyes. His damp shorts rode low on trim hips, but all she could see was tanned flesh.

Abruptly he shifted and speared her with a look, as if he’d sensed her regard. Over his shoulder, his eyes razor sharp, he growled, “Ask your damn question.”

Still gasping, Elizabeth tried to gather her wits. Question? Her muddled mind came up with one reply. “Are you tanned all over?”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she realized her mistake. Gabe’s eyes widened comically. There was a moment of startled hesitation, then he threw his head back and laughed, the sound bouncing off the placid surface of the lake to return to her again and again, making her brain hurt and her face throb with heat.

Appalled, she started to sit up, but just that quick, Gabe caught her shoulders and pinned her in place.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice a husky rumble. His mouth was still slightly curled in amusement.

Elizabeth tried to think. “I…I meant to ask you—”

“I know what you meant,” he growled around another smile. “You want me to skin off my shorts so you can get a good look at my backside, just to appease your curiosity?”

Yes. “No, of course not!” He loomed over her, making rational thought impossible. But then, everything about Gabriel Kasper, from their first meeting to now, had been impossible.

“Liar.” There was no insult in the accusation. In fact, he said it with amused affection, like an endearment. Then he kissed her again, softly, slowly. Elizabeth felt a constriction in her chest that had nothing to do with the way he held her and everything to do with the realization of all she’d missed in life.

The kiss wasn’t consuming, but sweetly sensual. As Gabe lifted his head, he looked at her breasts, gently crushed against the hard planes of his chest. A slight tremble went through him as he swept one fingertip over the upper swell of each breast. “Are these real, sweetheart?”

Her breath strangled at the feel of his hot, rough finger stroking her there, in a place no man had ever touched. Eyes wide, she muttered, “What are you talking about?”

“You have such a sexy body.” That taunting fingertip dipped slightly into her cleavage, causing her heart to pick up a quick, almost frantic beat. “And these breasts…so plump when you’re so trim everywhere else. So soft when you’re mostly firm. I just wondered if Mother Nature had really been so generous, or if you’d had a little help.”

She stared at him, her mind blank, unable to think while he was touching her. She was aware of the sun hot against her skin, of the slight breeze that stirred the humid air, of the gentle lapping of the lake on the shore. But all of it was overshadowed by Gabe and the blue flare of his eyes.

Grinning, Gabe murmured, “Maybe I should just find out on my own?” His fingers spread over her chest, just below her collarbone, and jolted her into awareness.

She caught his wrist and stared at him hard. “They’re real!” Then, because she was embarrassed over his attention, she muttered, “What a stupid question.”

Gabe easily freed his hand from hers and wrapped his fingers around her skull, stroking her hair, smoothing it. “You must have never gone braless in your life.”

Heat washed over her face, then down to her breasts. “Of course I haven’t.”

His thumb rubbed her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth. He shifted, his chest moving over hers, pressing. “Such a little innocent. Such a surprise.” He looked at her mouth.

“Gabe?”

“Just one more,” he whispered, husky and deep.

She thought to tell him that he’d owe her a lot of conversation for this, that she had plenty of questions he was going to have to answer, but the moment he took the kiss, she forgot all that.

His hand slid down her side to her waist, shaping her, measuring her, it seemed, then drifted to her hip. His touch was sure, his fingers rough, callused. He met bare skin on her upper thigh and made a raw sound of pleasure, causing her to quiver in response.

“So soft,” he growled, his mouth against her throat, leaving damp kisses, sucking softly. Overwhelmed, alive, she tipped her head back to make it easier for him. His grip on her thigh tightened, and with little direction from him, she bent her knee and lifted one leg alongside his. The position neatly settled him into the cradle of her hips. She vaguely wondered why she didn’t feel crushed, because he was so big, so hard.

He pushed, nestling closer, and his erection rubbed her in the most intimate spot imaginable. She gasped; he groaned.

She’d never felt a man on top of her before. The sensation was…wonderful. Scorching, enveloping, gratifying and at the same time stirring new needs.

Gabe dipped the tip of his tongue into her ear. That sensation, too, was astounding. How could such a simple act be so incredibly erotic? She heard his harsh breathing, felt his hot, moist breath and the hammering of his heart. He licked her ear. Stunned for just a moment, she froze, trying to take it all in.

He kissed her again. His mouth ate at hers, his teeth nipping, his tongue stroking. She melted, no longer capable of rational thought, simply reacting to what he did and how he did it.

In the next instant he was gone, sitting up beside her.

Elizabeth blinked in shock, uncertain what had happened or why he had pulled away so abruptly. She lay there, her eyes open but unseeing, trying to assimilate her senses. Gabe never hesitated. He caught her arms just above her elbows and jerked her upright so that she, too, was sitting, although not quite as steadily as he. It took a lot of effort not to flop down. She felt boneless and flushed and limp. Mute, she stared at him.

He gave her a grim, somewhat apologetic look and then she heard the motor. They both turned to stare at the entrance to the lake.

Seconds later a small fishing boat similar to the one they had used rounded the bend into the cove. Two older men, goofy hats hooked with a variety of lures perched on their heads, concentrated on the long fishing lines they had dragging in the water. Their voices were barely audible over the steady drone of the trolling motor.

They looked up in surprise when they noticed Gabe. Almost as one, their gazes turned to Elizabeth, and she felt herself turning pink with embarrassment. Good grief, could they tell what she and Gabe had been doing? Would they be able to look at her face and see it all?

Gabe moved, leaning forward to block her from view. He waved at the men, who waved back and continued to stare at them until their boat nearly went aground. With a disgruntled curse, the man in the back redirected their course and they puttered out of sight.

Gabe turned to her. His eyes were probing and direct. Unable to look away, Elizabeth thought how unfair it was that he could completely snare her with just a look. Eyes so light and clear a blue should have appeared cool, not fiery and passionate.

His fair hair shimmered beneath the sunshine, mussed from his swim—and from her fingers. Every muscle in his tensed body was delineated, drawing her eyes. He watched her so intently, she almost flinched.

Swallowing hard, Elizabeth tried to think of what to say. It was nearly impossible to muster a straight, businesslike face after that…that…She didn’t know what to call it. It was certainly far more than a mere kiss. Admittedly, she lacked experience, but she was certainly not stupid. She knew the difference between kissing and what they’d just done.

It wasn’t easy, but she reminded herself of her original purpose, her continued purpose. All her life she’d struggled to deal with the idiosyncrasies of heroism, why some had those qualities and some did not. Having heroism gave you the ability to change lives, lacking it could leave you forever empty.

She met Gabe’s eyes and cleared her throat. “Well, after that, I expect an entire explanation for my thesis.”

She hadn’t meant to sound so cold and detached; what she really felt was far different from those simple emotions. She’d only meant to stress the point of what they were doing and why.

Gabe’s eyes darkened, narrowed, the heat leaving them as if it had never been there. His jaw flexed once, then stilled. He stared at her mouth and said, “You’ll get it.”

HE WANTED to shake her, to…God, he’d never had the inclination to do any more than make love with a woman, laugh with her, tease. But Lizzy had him crazed.

He’d all but taken her on the damn dock, out in the open, on the lake, for crying out loud.

And she’d have let him.

He sensed it in his bones. He knew women, knew how they thought, what they felt, when they were turned on and how to turn them on. Little Red had been wild. She’d bit his bottom lip, sucked on his tongue, lifted her hips into the thrust of his…She’d strained against him, trying to get closer, and her fluttering heartbeat had let him measure each new degree of her excitement. She’d been on the ragged edge. He could have slipped his fingers past the leg band of her suit and stroked her over the edge with very little effort.

But now she watched him as though it had never happened, demanding answers to questions that were beyond stupid.

“I need to cool off.” With no more warning than that, Gabe went over the side of the dock. He swam down until he touched the bottom, feeling around for a shell. When he surfaced, Lizzy was hanging over the edge, watching for him anxiously. He pushed wet hair from his face and forced himself not to eye her breasts.

“You scared me!” She stared at him in accusation, looking like a wild woman. Thanks to his hands, long strands of hair had escaped her thick braid in various places, giving her a woolly-headed look, like a damn red thistle. Her smooth cheeks were flushed, making the freckles more pronounced. Her lush mouth, which had felt so hot and hungry under his only moments before, was pressed into a severe line.

Gabe almost laughed. Hell, she wasn’t even pretty, not really, and she sure as certain didn’t have the right temperament to lure a man. So why had he reacted so strongly?

“Here.” He handed her the shell, watched her sit back, bemused, to look it over. “It’s just a mussel. The bottom of the lake is littered with them. I dated a girl for a while who used to find live ones and eat them raw.”

Lizzy’s head jerked up, and she dropped the shell. Her lip curled in a way that made her look ready to vomit. No, she looked far from pretty right now.

Gabe laughed out loud. “Gross, huh? I couldn’t quite bring myself to kiss her again after that. I kept thinking of what had been in that mouth. Have you ever seen a live mussel? They’re sort of slimy and gray.”

She covered her mouth with a hand, swallowed hard, then sat back and glared at him some more. “Are you going to stay in there, or will you get out and answer my question?”

“Answer one for me first, okay?”

Her blue eyes widened, and he had to admit that they, at least, were beautiful. No matter her mood, her eyes were a focal point in her face, vivid and filled with curiosity and intelligence. He liked the color, dark and deep, unlike his faded, washed-out color. With the sun reflecting off the lake, he could see green and black and navy striations in her irises, lending richness to the unique color. As he studied her eyes, her pupils flared, reminding him how quickly she’d gotten aroused with him.

Arousing Little Red was fun, indeed. And from what he could tell, she could use a little fun in her life. Maybe it’d take some of the starch out of her spine and some of the vinegar out of her speech.

He propped his crossed arms over the edge of the dock, facing her and smiling into her stern face. “Where’d you get that suit?”

Bemused, she looked at herself, then at him. She plucked nervously at the material by her waist. “I…well, I hadn’t owned a suit before this. You insisted we needed to swim, so I had to go get one last night. But I couldn’t see spending a lot of money on one when this would likely be the only time I wore it. So I grabbed the cheapest one I could find.”

“The cheapest one-piece?”

Her lips trembled, fascinating him. “I’m not exactly the type to wear a bikini.”

“Why not?” His voice dropped despite his effort to sound dispassionate. “You have an incredible body, Lizzy.” He was serious, but he could tell by the way her eyes darkened and she looked away that she didn’t believe him.

“Lizzy?” She wouldn’t look at him. His heart softened, felt too thick in his chest. Very gently he asked, “When was the last time you looked at yourself naked?”

Her head snapped up, her cheeks hectic with hot color. Her mouth opened twice, but nothing came out. Finally she glared and said with acerbity, “Why do you deliberately try to embarrass me? Is that your idea of fun, to make me feel…feel…”

“Feel what, sugar?” His hand was a scant inch from her small foot, and he caught her ankle, using his thumb to caress her arch. “Shy? You shouldn’t. There’s not a woman on this lake that looks better in her suit than you. Why don’t you know that?”

Her auburn brows snapped down so fiercely, he expected her to get a headache. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Gabriel Kasper, but I’m not blind. I’m well aware of how I look, and if it wasn’t for you and your ridiculous stipulations, I wouldn’t be here now, sitting in this ridiculous suit!”

“You’ve enjoyed yourself,” he felt compelled to remind her, then held on tight when she tried to draw her foot away.

“It was…unexpected.” She looked prim and righteous, and he felt his blood heating in masculine reaction to her silent challenge. “As you’ve already surmised, I haven’t done much kissing in my lifetime. I looked at this as sort of a…a learning experience.”

Gabe grinned, his thumb still brushing sensually over her foot, making her stiffen. “So I’m sort of a class project, huh? Will you write another thesis? What I did over the summer vacation?”

Like a small volcano erupting, she jerked away and scrambled out of his reach. Her hands flattened on the dock to push herself upright, then she squealed and lifted a finger to her mouth.

Gabe watched her antics with curiosity. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving,” she grumbled, still looking at her finger. “I realize now that you have no intention of answering my questions, and I can’t afford to waste the time with you otherwise.”

So he was a waste of time? Like hell! He’d make her eat those words. Gabe levered himself onto the dock, and his weight set it off kilter, causing Lizzy to tilt into him. Her attention was still on her finger.

“I’ll answer your damn question, so quit frowning.”

She gave him a skeptical, disbelieving look, then went back to frowning.

“What’s wrong with you? Did you hurt yourself?” He leaned over her shoulder to see her hand, and as usual, she pulled it close to her chest as if protecting it from him.

“I have a splinter, thanks to you.” As an afterthought, she added, “It hurts.”

Gabe wrested her hand away from her body and looked at the injured finger. A jagged piece of wood was imbedded under the pad of her middle finger. “Damn. That sucker is huge.”

She tried to pull her hand free. She did that constantly, he realized, always pulling away from him. Well, not constantly. When he’d been kissing her, she’d strained against him.

“I can get it out.”

“No!” She tugged again, finally gaining her release. “I can take care of it after I get home. If you’re ready to leave?”

Gabe chewed the side of his mouth. “Actually, no, I’m not ready to leave. You have a question for me, and I’ll answer it. But first let me take care of this.”

“Gabe…”

“Stop being such a sissy. I won’t hurt you.”

Her chin firmed, her lips pursed, and then she thrust her hand toward him. “Fine. Do your worst.”

Without hesitation, Gabe lifted her finger to his mouth. He heard Lizzy gasp, felt her tremble. Probing with his tongue, he located the end of the splinter, then carefully, gently closed his teeth around it. It pulled out easily.

He smiled at her, still with her hand close to his mouth. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She had that glazed look in her eyes again, like the one she’d had before the fishing boat had interrupted. Unable to help himself with her looking so flustered and shivering, he held her gaze and kissed her fingertip. Her pupils dilated, her lips parting. Damn, but she was quick to react—which made him react, too.

It was if they were connected by their gazes, an intimate hold that he’d never quite experienced before. Gabe touched the tip of his tongue to her finger and heard her inhalation of breath. Her eyes grew heavy, her lashes dipping down. He drew her finger into his mouth and sucked softly. With a moan, she closed her eyes.

Damn, it was erotic. She was erotic. Moving her finger along his bottom lip, he said, “Being in the water is second nature to me. It never scares me.”

He was shocked by how husky his voice had become, but still, it jarred her enough that her eyes opened. Gabe dipped his tongue between her fingers, licked along the length of one. “I’m as at home in the water as I am on land. Especially this lake. I never once considered there was any danger to me, because there wasn’t, so I wasn’t afraid.”

“Oh.”

He moved to her thumb, drawing it into his mouth and tugging gently, just as he might with a breast. The thought inflamed him.

“After the kids and their mother were out of the way, I didn’t have time to think or be afraid. I just reacted.”

“I…I see.”

Her voice was so low and rough he could barely understand her. She watched him through slitted eyes, her body swaying slightly. “I learned to drive boats when I was knee-high to a grasshopper. I started working on boat motors when I was ten, knew more about them than most grown men by the time I was fourteen.”

He licked her palm, then the racing pulse in her wrist.

“Because I knew what I was doing, there was no danger, no reason to be afraid.”

“I see.”

Her eyes were closed, her free hand curled into a fist, her breasts heaving.

“Therefore,” Gabe added, as he started to lower her once again, “I’m not what you’d call a hero at all.”

Her back no sooner touched the dock than she bolted upright. Her head smacked his chin with the force of a prizefighter’s blow. She blinked hard, rubbed her head and scowled at him.

After working his jaw to make certain she hadn’t broken anything, Gabe asked, “Are you all right?”

“You’ve given me a concussion.”

He smiled. “I have not.” Then: “Why’d you get so jumpy?”

“I need to write everything down before I forget it.”

Rolling his eyes, Gabe said, “So you’re finally satisfied?” No sooner did the words leave his mouth than he looked at her spectacular breasts, saw her pointed nipples and knew true satisfaction was a long way off. Not that she’d ever admit it.

Her gaze downcast, she said simply, “I’m satisfied—for that question. But I have so many more.” Looking at him, a soft plea in her gaze, she asked, “Will it really be so difficult to let me get some answers?”

Damn, he wanted her. He wanted to see that look on her face when she was naked beneath him. It defied reason and went against everything he knew about his preferences and inclinations. She was so far from the type of woman who usually caught his eye that it was almost laughable.

But it didn’t change the facts.

Gabe chucked her chin. “I’m willing if you are.”

“Meaning?”

There was a note of caution in her tone that made him smile with triumph. “Meaning as long as we stick to our original bargain, I’ll answer your questions. One kiss per question.”

Lizzy turned her head to stare at the lake. There was a stillness about her that he hadn’t seen before, and it made him uneasy.

“Because this is important to me,” she said without inflection, “I’ll agree if you insist. But what we’ve just been doing…that was more than kissing.” She turned her big blue eyes on him and added, “Wasn’t it?”

Sure felt like more to him! But he’d never admit that to her. He had a feeling that if she knew how she’d turned him on, how close he’d gotten to losing all control, she’d never agree to see him again, much less let him kiss her. “It’s not a big deal, Lizzy. You don’t have to worry for your reputation or your chastity.”

Her lips tightened, giving her a wounded look. Gabe cursed. He’d wanted to reassure her, not make light of their mutual attraction. “I didn’t mean…”

“Why?” She turned to face him. “Why is it so important to you to toy with me?”

“I’m not toying with you, damn it.”

She obviously didn’t believe him. “Do you enjoy seeing me flustered, embarrassed? Do you enjoy knowing this is all very strange to me?”

A direct attack. He hadn’t been expecting it, no more than he’d anticipated her vehemence. He watched her, but she once again avoided his gaze. After some thought, Gabe said honestly, “I like you. And it’s for certain I like kissing you.” She made an exasperated sound, but he continued. “You’re different from the women I know around here.”

“You mean I’m odd?”

He laughed at the suspicious accusation in her tone and look. “No, that’s not what I mean. I’ve known most of the women in these parts for all of my life. They’re entirely comfortable with me and with their own sexuality.”

She slanted him a look. “I’m odd.”

“No, you are not!” He tucked a long tendril of hair behind her ear, still smiling. “You’re a…contradiction. Sweet and sassy—”

“What a sexist remark!”

“—and pushy but shy. You intrigue me. I guess it’s tit for tat. Just as you seem to want to know what makes me tick, I want to know what makes you tick. It’s as simple as that.”

“It doesn’t feel simple.”

“That’s because you’re evidently not used to men paying you attention.” She didn’t answer his charge, and he frowned. Catching her chin and bringing her face around to his, he asked the question uppermost in his mind. “Why is that, Lizzy?”

She shook her head, her lips scrunched together.

“I figure you must be…what? Twenty-two?”

She looked at the sky. “Almost twenty-three.”

“Yet you had no idea how to kiss. What girl gets through high school these days, much less college, without doing some necking?”

She glared at him and growled, “Redheaded, freckled, gangly girls who are shy and bookish, apparently.”

Gabe took a telling perusal of her body. “Sweetheart, you’re not gangly. Far from it.”

She stared at him hard for at least three heartbeats, then asked with endearing caution, “Really?”

Tenderness swelled over him, taking him by surprise. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that you’d filled out real nice?”

She clasped her hands in her lap and shook her head. “My mother died when I was twelve.”

Gabe scooted closer to her and put his arm around her sun warmed shoulders. He didn’t question his need to hold her, to touch her. “Friends? Sisters?”

Shaking her head, she explained, “I’m an only child. And I didn’t really have that many friends in school.” As if admitting a grave sin, she added, “I was always very backward until recently.”

Gabe squeezed her gently. “You’re hardly a robust conqueror now.”

“I know. It’s not easy for me to do all these interviews, but they’re important, so I do them.” Her expression turned mocking. “Most of them have been fairly quick and simple.”

“Then it’s a good thing you ran into me, huh? Because lady, if anyone ever needed shaking up a little, it’s you.”

“I need to complete my thesis.”

“You have the rest of summer break, right?”

She nodded warily, obviously uncertain of his intent.

“So why don’t we indulge each other? I’ll answer any questions you have, and in return, you’ll let me convince you how adorable you are in that bathing suit.”

Her chin tucked in close to her chest. “Convince me…how?”

“By what we’ve already been doing. I won’t ever push you further than you want to go, you have my word on that. But I can promise there’ll be more kissing.” His hand cradled her head. “You won’t mind that so much, will you, Lizzy?”

She didn’t reply to that, and she didn’t look convinced. In a slightly choked voice that gave away her tension, she said, “I need you to be more specific than that.”

Gabe chewed it over, trying to think of how to couch his terms so she would be reassured. “Okay, how’s this. I’ll answer a question and you’ll cut loose a little, my choice of how. And before you start arguing, first I want you to go to a drive-in with me. You ever been to the drive-in?”

“With my father when I was young. I didn’t even know they still had them.”

“You’re in for a treat!” And I’m in for a little torture. “We can go over to the next county, to the Dirty Dixie.” He bobbed his eyebrows. “They play fairly raunchy movies—which will probably be another first for you, right?”

Looking dazed, she nodded.

“Perfect. How about this Friday? That’s two days away, plenty of time for you to get used to the idea.” And plenty of time for him to get a better grip on himself.

She hesitated once again and Gabe held his breath. Then she nodded. “All right. Where should I meet you?”

“Ah, no,” he told her gently, knowing she wanted to keep him at a distance and knowing, too, that he wouldn’t allow it. “You’ll give me your address and phone number. I pick up the women I take on dates, Lizzy, I don’t meet them.”

She seemed to consider that, then shrugged in feigned indifference. Taking up her pencil, she jotted her address and phone number. Gabe accepted the scrap of paper, then slipped off the edge of the dock and waded to the boat to put it in his cooler for safekeeping.

Lizzy, watching him in the water, said, “I’m renting the upstairs from this nice single mother. She has two young children and needed the extra money.”

Gabe knew she was prattling out of nervousness. He hated to see an end to the day, but he checked his waterproof watch and saw it was time to go. “We’d better head back. I have some work to do.”

“I thought you didn’t have a job.”

Looking at her from the other side of the boat, he gave her a wide grin. “Angling for another question? All right, I can be generous.” He propped his forearms over the metal gunwale and explained, “I don’t have a regular job, but I have more work than I can handle. I’m sort of a handyman and this time of year everyone needs something built, repaired or revamped. And that’s all I’m telling you, so get that look out of your eyes.”

“Spoilsport.”

Gabe maneuvered the boat close to the dock. “Since I now know you’re afraid of the water—something you should have told me right off—I’ll be gallant and hold the boat steady for you to climb in.”

“You won’t expect me to get in the water again?”

He shook his head at her hopeful expression. “Oh, I imagine we’ll get you used to it little by little. After all, what’s the use of taking a vacation near a lake if you don’t want to get wet? But for today you’ve had enough.”

She couldn’t quite hide her relief. “Thanks.”

Using exaggerated caution, she scooted off the dock and into the boat. Gabe watched the way her long legs bent, how her breasts filled the snug suit, how her bottom settled neatly on the metal seat, heated by the sun.

Damn, he was in deep. And he couldn’t even say why. In the normal course of things, a woman like Ms. Elizabeth Parks shouldn’t have appealed to him at all. She was uptight, pushy, inexperienced…but she was also funny and curious and she had about the sweetest body he’d ever seen.

With a muttered curse against his fickle libido, Gabe hauled himself over the side of the boat, which made her squeal and grab the seat with a death grip. “You can thank me Friday night,” he told her, and wondered if he’d be able to keep his hands off her even then. Two days didn’t seem like near enough time to get himself together.

But it did seem like an eternity when already he wanted her so bad his hands were shaking.

GABE FELT THE SUN on his shoulders, smelled the newly mown grass and breathed a deep sigh of contentment. Or at least, he’d be content if he could get a redheaded wonder out of his head. He steered the tractor mower toward the last strip of high grass by rote. He and his brothers had so much property, they only kept up the acres surrounding the house. Beyond that, the land was filled with wild shrubs and colorful flowers and mature trees of every variety. It was gorgeous in the fall, when the leaves changed color, but Gabe liked summer best.

His mother used to accuse him of being part lizard, because the heat seldom bothered him, and he was always drawn to the sunshine.

Life had been different since his two oldest brothers had married. Different in a very nice way. He enjoyed having Honey around. She made the house feel homier in some small indefinable ways, like the smell of her scented candles in the bathroom after she’d been indulging in a long soak, or the way she always hugged him when he left the house, cautioning him to be careful—as if he ran around risking his neck whenever he went out the door.

Gabe grinned. He could still recall how Honey had cried when Morgan had moved to his own house. Never mind that it was just up the hill; she liked having all the brothers as near as possible. It was a huge bonus that Morgan had married her sister, Misty. The two women were very close and managed to get together every day, especially since Misty had given birth to an adorable little girl seven months ago. Amber Marie Hudson was about the most precious thing he’d ever seen. And watching his brother fuss over the baby was an endless source of entertainment.

Females flat-out fascinated Gabe, whether they were seven months, twenty-seven or seventy. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of learning more about them.

He was pondering what he might learn from a certain redhead when he saw a car pull into their long drive. Gabe stopped the tractor and watched, a feeling of foreboding creeping up his sweaty back. The car, a small purple Escort, looked suspiciously like the one he’d seen Lizzy park at the docks. He’d noticed because the purple clashed so loudly with her hair.

And sure enough, even from this distance, when she stepped out of the car, there was no mistaking the fiery glint of the sun off her bright head.

Scowling, he put the tractor in gear and headed toward the house. He was aware of a strange pounding in his chest, hoping to intercept her before any of his brothers saw her. Or worse, before Honey or Misty saw her.

But his hopes were vain. Just as he neared the drive the front door opened and there stood Honey, her long blond hair moving gently in the breeze, her killer smile in place.

Oh, hell.

He watched in horror as Lizzy was evidently invited in, as she accepted and as the door closed behind her. The tractor was too damn slow so he stopped it, turned it off and ran the rest of the way.

His chest was heaving and he was dripping sweat by the time he bolted through the front door. No one was in sight. He hurried down the hallway to the family room, finding it empty. He stopped, trying to listen. A feminine laugh caught his attention, and he raced for the kitchen. He had to stop her before she said too much, before she started in with her questions—before anyone found out he’d been kissing her….

He skidded to a halt on the tile floor. The kitchen was crowded, what with Honey and her sister and Amber and Sawyer…Gabe stared at Lizzy, seated at the table with her back to him.

Sawyer was looking her over—not politely, but in minute detail. He leaned over Lizzy with his fingers grazing her cheek, so close to her she could probably feel his breath, for God’s sake.

Gabe’s brows snapped down to match Sawyer’s frown, and he demanded, “What the hell is going on?”

Everyone looked up. Honey was the first to speak, saying, “Gabe. I was just about to come get you.”

Misty shook her head at him in a pitying way, as if he’d gotten himself into trouble somehow, and Amber cooed at the sound of his voice. Gabe ignored them all to stare at his oldest brother.

Of course Lizzy would have to call at lunchtime, he thought darkly, when everyone was bound to be around. Normally Sawyer would have been in his office at the back of the house, treating patients. Luckily, to his mind, Jordan always ate lunch in town. Morgan used to, too, until he married Misty. Now he was likely to show up any minute. Gabe needed to get Lizzy out of the house before she said too much about their association. He could imagine the ribbing he’d take if his brothers knew he was interested in—as in majorly turned on by—a prickly little redheaded witch with freckles!

His face heated at the mere thought.

Then Lizzy turned to look at him, and he knew the heat in his face was nothing compared to hers.

His frown intensified, but for different reasons, as he drifted closer, studying her every feature. “Damn, Lizzy, what happened?”

She was bright pink with sunburn, her nose red, her soft mouth slightly puffy. Without thinking about his rapt audience, he knelt in front of her chair and smoothed a wayward tendril of hair gently behind her ear. God, even the tops of her ears were red!

She licked her lips, looking horribly embarrassed and glancing around at the others. “I’m fine, Gabe,” she murmured, trying to get him to stand up while sneaking glances at his family. “There’s no reason for this fuss.”

He paid no attention at all to her words, too intent on discovering every speck of skin that had been reddened. “I thought you had sunscreen on yesterday.”

“I did,” she assured him, looking more wretchedly miserable by the minute. “I guess it wasn’t strong enough, or maybe it washed off in the water.”

Sawyer made an impatient sound, recalling Gabe to the fact that he was on his knees in front of Lizzy, treating her like the most precious woman in the world. He jerked to his feet, but he still couldn’t take his concerned gaze off her. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” She tried a weak smile, then flinched. “Truly. I’m fine.”

Sawyer rudely pushed Gabe aside. “I’m going to give you some topical ointment for the sting. In the meantime, stay out of the sun—” and here he glared at Gabe “—and wear very loose clothes. It doesn’t look like you’ll blister, but I’d say you’re going to be plenty uncomfortable for the next few days.”

Honey stepped up with some folded paper towels soaked in cool tea. “This’ll help. I’m fair-skinned, too, and it’s always worked for me.”

Misty leaned close to watch as Honey patted the towels gently in place on Elizabeth’s bare shoulders. Gabe realized that Lizzy wore a shapeless white cotton dress, so long it hung to her ankles. He looked closely and could see by the soft fullness beneath the bodice that she wasn’t wearing a bra. His heart skipped a beat.

She’d said she never went braless, and her breasts were so firm and round, he believed her. The sunburn must indeed be painful for her to go without one.

To distract himself, he looked around the room and settled on smiling at the baby. At his attention, Amber flailed her pudgy arms from her pumpkin seat on the table, gurgling and blowing spit bubbles. Gabe laughed. “Sorry, kiddo. I’m too sweaty to hold you right now.”

Elizabeth watched as he reached out and tweaked the baby’s toe, and he knew she was planning on putting that into her little notebook, too. He scowled.

Morgan stepped in through the kitchen door and went immediately to Misty, lifting her into a bear hug that led to a lingering, intimate kiss. The way Misty continued to flush at her husband’s touch always tickled Gabe. Morgan had been well and fully tamed.

He turned and hauled Amber out of her chair and against his chest, then nuzzled the baby’s downy black hair. Amber squealed as he settled her in the crook of his arm.

Only then did Morgan notice Elizabeth. One dark brow shot up. “Hello.”

Misty shook the dreamy look off her face and smiled. “Morgan, this is Elizabeth Parks, a friend of Gabe’s.”

Morgan’s enigmatic gaze transferred to Gabe, and Gabe felt his face heat again. “She looks done to a crisp, Gabe. I suppose you weren’t…ah, paying attention to the sun? Had your mind on…other things?”

Gabe stiffened and said, “You know I can’t hit you while you’re holding the baby. Care to give her to her mother?”

“Nope.” He kissed the baby’s tiny ear and with a grin turned to Elizabeth. “Nice to meet you, Elizabeth.”

She nodded. “And you, Sheriff.”

“You’re joining us for lunch?”

“Oh. No, please. I just…I’m sorry to impose. Really.” Her attention flicked nervously to Gabe as all his interfering relatives assured her she was no imposition at all. “I just had a few questions, if you have the time.”

Morgan pulled out a chair. “Questions about what?”

Gabe stepped forward before she could answer. “Lizzy, I’d like to talk to you. In private.”

She stalled, staring at him with a guilty expression.

Sawyer nudged him aside. “I’ve only got fifteen minutes left before I have to see a patient. You can wait that long, can’t you, Gabe?”

He wanted to say no, he damn well couldn’t wait, but he knew that would only stir up more speculation. So instead he took the cool towels from Honey and began placing them on Lizzy’s shoulders. A thought struck him, and he looked at her feet, set together primly beneath the long skirt. She wore thick white socks and slip-on shoes.

He gave her an exasperated look. “Your feet are burned, too, I suppose?”

Not since he’d met her had Lizzy been so withdrawn. She kept her wide eyes trained on him and nodded. In a tiny voice, she admitted, “A little.”

Gabe knelt and very carefully pried off her loose loafers, then peeled the socks off her feet. Like a wet hen, Lizzy fussed and complained and tried to shoo him away. He persisted, despite Morgan’s choked laugh and Sawyer’s hovering attention.

Her feet were small and slender. Looking at how red they were, Gabe had the awful urge to kiss them better, and instead looked at her with a warning in his gaze. “You should be at home, naked, instead of running around all over the place, asking your crazy questions.”

Honey gasped. Morgan guffawed, making Amber bounce in delight. Misty smacked Gabe’s shoulder.

But Sawyer agreed. “He’s right. Wearing clothes right now is just going to aggravate the sunburn. Taking cool baths and using plenty of aloe, and some ibuprofen for the pain, is the best thing you could do for yourself right now.” He glared at Gabe. “Of course if baby brother here had remembered that not everyone is a sun worshiper with skin like leather, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

Gabe gritted his teeth. “I’m well aware of how delicate a woman’s skin is. I thought she had sunscreen on. Besides, we weren’t really out in the sun that long.”

Lizzy stirred uncomfortably. “Gabe’s right. This is my fault, not his. I guess I hadn’t counted on the sun’s reflection off the lake being so strong.”

“Water does magnify the sun,” Sawyer agreed, then propped his hands on his hips and asked in his best physician’s voice, “Are you burned anywhere else?”

Lizzy shook her head and at the same time said, “Just my legs.” But as Gabe started to lift her skirt she slapped his hands away. Her tone was both horrified and embarrassed. “Don’t even think it!”

He grinned. She was behaving more like herself, and he was vastly relieved. He didn’t like seeing her so quiet and apprehensive. “Sorry. Just trying to see how bad it is.”

She scowled. “Mostly on my knees, and you can just take my word on that, Gabriel Kasper.”

Morgan leaned back in his seat, both brows lifted. Everyone stared at them, transfixed. Gabe remembered what he was doing and came to his feet again. How the hell did he keep ending up on his knees in front of her?

After setting a platter of sandwiches on the table, Honey said, “Join us for lunch, okay? What would you like to drink? I have tea and lemonade and—”

“Oh, no. Really, I didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time.” Lizzy reached for the towels on her shoulders, meaning to remove them. “I can just come back another time if you agree to a short interview.”

Gabe let out a gust of relief. “That’s a good idea. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

But Lizzy hadn’t even gotten the first towel removed before everyone rejected her intentions and insisted she stay. Hell, they begged her to stay, the nosy pests.

Well, they could do as they pleased, Gabe decided, but that didn’t mean he had to stick around and take part in it. “I’m going to go shower,” he announced, and of course, that was just fine and dandy. No one begged him to stick around! Irritated, he stomped out of the room, but before he’d even rounded the corner, he heard Morgan start chuckling, and before long, they were all laughing hysterically.

Everyone but Lizzy.

ELIZABETH BIT her lip, not sure what was so funny. She hoped they weren’t laughing at her, but then Honey gave her a big smile and said, “Gabe is so amusing sometimes.”

Elizabeth had no idea how she meant that, and she didn’t ask. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m doing a thesis on heroes for my college major. I’ve been working on it for some time, and I’d just about finished, then I heard about the boating incident here last summer and decided to add Gabriel to my notes.”

Morgan tilted his head. “What boating incident?”

That set her back. His own brother wasn’t aware of what had happened? But Misty waved a hand and explained to her husband, “I’m sure she’s talking about Gabe saving that woman and her children, right?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“That was right after our wedding. Morgan wasn’t paying much attention to what happened around him back then.”

Morgan gave his wife a smoldering look. “You’re to blame for that, Malone, not me. Can I help it if you’re distracting?”

Honey laughed. “Stop it, you two, or you’ll embarrass our guest.” She sat herself on her husband’s lap, and Sawyer wrapped his arms around her. “Gabe is a real sweetheart, Elizabeth. We just enjoy teasing him a little.”

Elizabeth could attest to the sweetheart bit. From what she’d found out so far, there didn’t live a finer example of the term lady’s man. She cleared her throat. “So you do remember the event?”

“Sure.” Honey settled comfortably against her husband’s wide chest. To Elizabeth’s amazement, Sawyer Hudson managed to eat that way, as if having his wife on his lap was a common occurrence. He quickly devoured three sandwiches, which was one less than Morgan ate. Misty and Honey each nibbled on a half. Since they were insistent, Elizabeth took a bite of one herself. She hadn’t realized she was hungry until then.

The sunburn had made her so miserable she’d only wanted to find something to do, to keep her mind off it. Her skin felt too tight, itchy and burning. Clothes were a misery—Sawyer Hudson was right about that. But she simply wasn’t used to parading around naked and had decided to take her mind off it by finding out more about Gabe before their trip to the movies.

“Can you tell me about it?” Elizabeth asked after a large drink of icy lemonade. With the cool towels on her shoulders and the uncomfortable shoes off her feet, she felt much better.

“Sure.” Honey looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned to Morgan. “You ended up arresting the driver of that boat, right?”

Morgan growled, his tone so threatening that Elizabeth jumped. “The fool was drunk and could have damn well killed somebody. If it had been up to me, he’d have lost not only his boating license, but his driver’s license, as well. As it turned out, though, he was banned from the lake, got a large fine and spent a week in jail. Hell, that poor woman was so shook up, Sawyer had to give her a sedative.”

Sawyer nodded and his tone, in comparison to Morgan’s was solemn. “She thought one or both of her kids would be hurt. She was almost in shock.” Then he smiled. “When I got there, I found Gabe with a kid in his arms, one wrapped around his leg, and the woman gushing all over him. The look of relief on Gabe’s face when he spotted me was priceless.”

Elizabeth reached for her bag on the floor by her chair and extracted her notebook and pencil. “Can you describe it for me?”

“What?”

“The look on his face.”

Sawyer appeared startled by her request, then shrugged. “Sure.”

IT WAS ONLY fifteen minutes before Gabe rejoined them, his shaggy blond hair still wet and hanging in small ringlets on the back of his neck, his requisite cutoffs clean and dry. Elizabeth had already taken page after page of notes, supplied by all the family members, and she was ecstatic to finally have someone agree with her that Gabriel Kasper’s actions had, in fact, been heroic.

When Gabe saw her notebook out, he glared and stomped over to snag the last sandwich on the platter.

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath as he leaned past her, but all she could smell was soap. When Gabe had entered earlier, the earthy scent of damp male flesh warm from the sunshine had clung to him—an enticing aphrodisiac. That wonderfully potent scent, combined with the sight of him, had made her nearly too breathless to talk. She hadn’t thought she’d see him today. When she’d called the number Bear gave her, Honey had told her Gabe would be working all day. Elizabeth hadn’t realized she meant working around his own home.

She also hadn’t realized they’d all make such a fuss about her sunburn. She felt like an idiot for getting burned in the first place. She, better than anyone, knew how easily the sun affected her. She’d even brought along the sunscreen to apply often, keeping it in her bag. But she’d been sidetracked by Gabe and kissing and the erotic feelings he’d engendered. She hadn’t thought once about overexposure.

Honey stood to make more sandwiches since Morgan had started prowling around for a cookie and Gabe had only gotten one sandwich. Once his lap was vacated, Sawyer excused himself, saying he’d go fetch the aloe cream he wanted Lizzy to use.

Gabe downed a tall glass of iced tea, and Elizabeth watched his throat work, saw the play of muscles in his arms and shoulders as he tipped his head back. He lowered the glass, caught her scrutiny and frowned at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, Morgan thrust the baby into Gabe’s arms and he got distracted by a tiny fist grabbing his chest hair.

The contrast between Gabe, so big, so strong, golden blond and tanned, and the tiny dark-haired baby held securely in his arms made Elizabeth’s chest feel too tight. She’d have thought a man like him, a Lothario with only hedonistic pleasures on his mind, wouldn’t have been so confident while holding an infant. But Gabe not only held the baby without hesitation, he blew raspberries on her soft belly and nibbled on her tiny toes.

Elizabeth decided it was time to make a strategic retreat. She knew, despite his gentle touch with the baby, that he was angry with her. She supposed that negated her deal with him; there’d be no movies at the drive-in. But at least, she told herself, trying to be upbeat instead of despondent, she’d gotten what she wanted. She had an entire notebook full of details, and hadn’t that been her single goal all along?

Sawyer reappeared with a large tube of ointment and handed it to Elizabeth. “Put that on every hour or so, or whenever your skin feels uncomfortable. It’s mostly aloe. You can keep it in the refrigerator if you like. Drink as much water as you can—rehydrating your skin will help it feel more comfortable. Oh, and take cool baths, not showers. Showers are too stressful to the damaged skin. If it doesn’t feel better by tomorrow evening, give me a call, okay?”

Feeling horribly conspicuous, Elizabeth nodded. “How much do I owe you for the cream?”

“Not a thing. I’ll take it out of Gabe’s hide later.”

Since Gabe smirked at that, Elizabeth assumed it was a joke. “Thank you.” She glanced at Gabe, then away. “For everything.”

Sawyer kissed his wife, his niece and his sister-in-law, then went off to work again. They were a demonstrative lot, always hugging and patting and kissing. It disconcerted her.

Misty and Honey and Gabe all walked her to the door. Gabe was deathly quiet, which she felt didn’t bode well since he was usually joking and teasing. As she stepped onto the porch, Honey said, “Misty and I are having lunch in town tomorrow. Would you like to join us? The restaurant where Misty works part-time has fabulous beef stew on Friday afternoons. And afterward, we can all go to the library. I know they must have kept records of the local paper there on file. You could see the firsthand reports of Gabe’s—” she glanced at her brother-in-law with a wicked smile “—daring feat.”

Gabe gave Honey a look that promised retribution, but she just laughed and hugged him.

Misty added, “It’ll be fun.”

Aware of Gabe spearing her with his hot gaze, knowing he expected her to turn the women down, Elizabeth nonetheless nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

She could have sworn she heard Gabe snarling.

Misty took the baby from Gabe’s arms. “Great. If you know where the diner is, we could meet you there at eleven.”

“That’ll be fine.”

“Perfect. We’ll see you then!”

Misty and Honey retreated together, and suddenly Elizabeth wished they were still there. Gabe looked ready for murder.

It was his own fault, she decided, refusing to cower. She raised her chin, gave him a haughty look and turned toward her car. Gabe stalked along beside her.

“What are you doing here, Red?”

Uh-oh. He really was angry. “In each of my studies, I’ve included the accountings of family members whenever possible.”

“But you and I had a deal.”

Had. She was right, the deal was no longer valid. Disappointment swamped her, but she fought it off. It had been foolish to look forward to her time with Gabe. He was the epitome of a town playboy. He’d amuse himself with her while she was in town, and when she left he’d never think of her.

But she knew already she’d never be able to forget him. Pathetic, she decided, and deliberately tamped down her regret. She opened the car door and tossed in her bag. She hadn’t been able to carry it with the strap over her shoulder because of the burn. She was anxious to follow Sawyer’s advice and get naked. Her clothes felt like sandpaper against her sensitive skin.

Gabe watched her closely and she managed a shrug. “You never told me I couldn’t talk with your family.”

“Bull.” He leaned closer, crowding her by putting one hand on the roof of her car, the other at the top of the door frame. “You knew damn good and well I didn’t want you snooping around. That’s why I agreed to answer your questions myself.”

With him so close, her heart thundered. Memories washed over her and her belly tingled in response. She couldn’t seem to stop staring at his mouth and swallowed hard. “I understand. If…if you want to cancel the rest of it, I won’t argue with you.”

Gabe stiffened. “Cancel the rest of what?”

The hair on his chest was still slightly damp, as if he’d dried in a hurry. She’d never in her life known a man who paraded around in such a state of undress almost continually. She didn’t think he was deliberately flaunting himself for her benefit so much as he was totally at ease with his own body, aware he had no reason for shame or reserve. She curled her hands into fists to keep from touching him.

“The…the drive-in, the…having fun and loosening up.” Pride made her add, “I thought it was a dumb plan all along.”

He tipped up her chin with an extremely gentle touch. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he growled. “You’re not backing out on me, Lizzy.”

“But…” She faltered, caught by the intensity in his gaze. “You’re angry.”

“Damn right. And we’ll discuss my anger tomorrow. At the movies. If you think I’m going to let you breach our deal now, especially after all your damn snooping, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth couldn’t think of anything else to say. Relief was a heavy throbbing in her breasts. “Okay.”

Once again she stared at his mouth and felt her lips trembling in remembrance of how he’d kissed her, how he’d tasted, how hot his mouth had been.

Breathless again, she whispered, “Gabe?” and even she could hear the longing in the single word.

Gabe’s nostrils flared and suddenly he cursed. He leaned forward and took her mouth with careful hunger, that single rough finger beneath her chin holding her captive. The kiss was long and deep and Elizabeth grabbed his shoulders, though he didn’t return the embrace. His tongue thrust in, hot and wet, and she accepted it, stroking it with her own, moaning softly.

When Gabe lifted his head a scant inch, she said, “Oh, my.”

He smiled. “Yeah.” There was a husky catch in his voice.

She realized she was practically hanging on him and jerked back. “I didn’t mean—”

Again Gabe touched her chin, making her meet his eyes. “You can believe I’d have had you close, Lizzy, if I wasn’t afraid of hurting you.” His voice dropped and he asked, “Are your thighs burned?”

She couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen into her lungs. “A little.”

“Your arms?”

“Some.”

His mouth barely touched hers. “Your breasts?”

She drew a shuddering breath. “Just…” She sounded like a bullfrog and cleared her throat. “Just the very tops, where the suit didn’t cover.”

“Want some help with that cream?”

New heat washed over her, making her light-headed. “No! I can manage just fine on my own.”

His mouth twitched with a grin. “Spoilsport.”

“I should go.” She should go before she begged him to help her with the cream, before she attacked his mostly naked body. Before she made a total fool of herself. She had to remember that to Gabe, this was just a game, a way to pass the time while indulging her curiosity. He wasn’t serious about any of it. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t overly serious about anything.

“All right.” Gabe straightened, then gave her another frown. “Don’t think I’m not mad over you showing up here. But we’ll talk about it when I pick you up for the drive-in, when I’ll be assured of a little privacy.”

No sooner did he say it than he looked struck by that thought and twisted to look behind him. Elizabeth peered over his shoulder just in time to see a curtain drop and several heads duck out of sight. Gabe cursed.

Unable to believe what she’d seen, Elizabeth asked, “They were spying on you?”

Gabe looked livid but accepting. “Don’t sound so incredulous. I’d have done the same.”

“You would have?”

“Sure.” Then he laughed and scrubbed both hands over his face. “Oh, hell, the cat’s out of the bag now. I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

“The end of what?” Surely he wasn’t embarrassed because he’d been a hero. That didn’t make any sense at all.

“Never mind.” He turned to her, shaking his head. “Maybe I should just do like Morgan and build my own place. ‘Course, Honey’d probably have a fit.”

Elizabeth had a hard time keeping up with his switches in topic.

Gabe pointed toward a spot on a hill overlooking the main house. “See that house up there? That’s Morgan’s. He and Misty moved in there last year. Until then, we all lived in the house together. Morgan lived in the main part of the house with Sawyer and his son, Casey. Have you met Case yet? No? Well, you’re in for a treat. Hell of a kid.”

She reached for her notebook to jot down the name, but Gabe caught her wrist with a sigh. “Forget I said that. Leave Casey alone.”

“But you said…”

“You’ve done enough meddling, Red.”

There was definite menace in his tone. Elizabeth committed the name to memory, determined to write it down as soon as she was away from Gabe. To distract him, she said, “Tell me about these living arrangements.”

He gave her a narrow look, then shook his head. “Why not? There’s no secret there. I live in the basement. I have my own entrance and it’s nicer than most apartments. Jordan lives in the rooms over the garage.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Four grown men all live together?”

“Yeah.” Gabe squinted against the sun, then his eyes widened and he cursed. “Damn it, here I am, keeping you out in the sun again! Woman, don’t you have any sense at all? Get on home.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ll give you a family history on Friday. After I explain how disgruntled I am with you for trespassing with my family.”

Elizabeth huffed. “I didn’t trespass. Honey invited me over.”

“Yeah, I just bet she did.”

Elizabeth sat carefully in the car, trying not to scrape her tender flesh on the seats. Gabe closed her door for her, then leaned in to give her another quick kiss. “Drive careful. And when you get home, get naked.”

“Gabe,” she admonished, embarrassed by his frank suggestion. She wondered if she’d ever get used to him.

She started the engine and put the car in reverse. Gabe leaned in the window once more. “And Elizabeth?”

She paused. Gabe stared at her unconfined breasts in the loose dress, then whispered, “When you’re naked, think of me, okay?” He touched the end of her nose and sauntered away.

Elizabeth stared after him, goggle-eyed and flushed, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it—and dead certain that she’d do exactly as he had asked her to.

GABE CURSED HIMSELF the entire way there, but he couldn’t make himself not go. He tried to talk himself out of it. He’d even made other plans—then had to cancel them.

He was worried about her, and damned if that wasn’t a first. He’d never had a woman consume his thoughts so completely.

But the sunburn was his fault and he felt responsible. Plus he’d yelled at her and she was so sensitive, so inexperienced, she probably felt bad because of it. Besides, he wanted to know what his damn meddling brothers had told her, because they hadn’t given him so much as a clue. Even Misty and Honey were staying mum, refusing to reveal a single word.

Gabe squeezed the steering wheel tight and called himself three kinds of a fool, because the bare-bones truth of it was that he wanted to see her. There. He’d admitted it. He liked her and he wanted her.

He pulled into the driveway on the quiet suburban street just outside of Buckhorn County and turned off the ignition. The house was an older redbrick two-story with mature trees and a meticulously trimmed lawn. As he got out of the car, Gabe wondered if Elizabeth had done as ordered and stripped down. Was she naked right now? Maybe lounging in a soothing tub of cool water?

He shoved his hands into his pockets and climbed the outside stairwell to the upper floor at the side of the building. Miniblinds were pulled shut over the only full-size window. That was good, he thought, just in case she was naked.

Gabe rocked on his heels, took a deep breath and knocked. There was no answer. Briefly he considered turning away in case she was asleep. But it was still early, not quite nine o’clock, so he knocked again, harder.

A muffled sound reached him from the other side of the door, and then he heard Lizzy call, “Who is it?”

She didn’t sound as if she’d just awakened, but she did sound wary. Probably she didn’t get that many callers, especially not at night.

He felt a curious satisfaction at that deduction. “It’s me, Red. Open up.”

There were more muffled sounds, and finally the door opened the tiniest bit. One big blue eye peeked at him through the crack in the door. “Gabe. What in the world are you doing here?”

Rather than answer that, because he had no answer, he said, “Did I wake you?”

“Oh. No, I was just…Is anything wrong?”

“Yeah.” He pushed against the door, and she hastily stepped out of the way. “I wanted to check…on…you.” Gabe stared. His gut clenched and his toes curled. Lizzy had her hair all piled up on top of her head, and she wore only a sheet wrapped around her breasts. Loosely. Very loosely. In fact, if it wasn’t for one small, tightly clenched fist, the sheet would have fallen. And good riddance, Gabe thought.

He shoved her front door shut with his heel. He knew he should say something, but he just kept staring.

Lizzy cleared her throat. “I was getting ready to put on some more of that ointment your brother gave me. It helps a lot, but it doesn’t last all that long.”

Gabe looked past her to the open kitchen nook. On the table sat a bowl of water and the tube of ointment Sawyer had given her. “I’ll help you.”

Her eyes flared wide. She shook her head, making that huge pile of hair threaten to topple. Her shoulders were bright pink, but just on the top, thank goodness. Most of her back, from what he could tell, was fine. But her breasts…Gabe swallowed. The sheet was white and damp in places around her chest; she must have been putting on cool compresses, he decided.

He was a man. He’d act like a man. Gabe put his arm around her sheet-covered waist and steered her toward the tiny kitchen. Her living room was minuscule, holding only a sofa, a single chair and some shelves. A thirteen-inch television was centered on the shelves and around that were some plants. The only other things in the spartan rented room were a few books and two photos. He’d check out the photos later, but for now he wanted to help ease her discomfort.

Her feet were bare and looked adorable peeking out from beneath the sheet. Pink, but adorable. Gabe looked at her breasts again, surreptitiously, so she wouldn’t notice. The tops of her breasts, from just beneath her collarbone to somewhere beneath that white sheet, were sunburned.

“Here, sit down.”

She remained standing. “Gabe, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of this myself.”

“But why should you when I can help? I know it can’t be easy to reach your shoulders.”

Her mouth twisted, her eyes downcast. Her long auburn lashes left shadows on her cheeks from the fluorescent light overhead. He wanted to kiss her.

“I’ll get dressed.”

“Don’t.”

She stared at him, unblinking.

“Please, Lizzy?” He kept his tone cajoling, soothing. “Sit down and let me help, okay? It’ll make me feel better, I promise.”

Still she hesitated, and finally she heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right.” She lowered herself carefully into the straight-back chair. “But if you hurt me,” she warned, “I’m going to be really angry.”

His hands shook as he stared at her shoulders. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

He lifted the tube of cream and realized it was cool. Lizzy must have been keeping it in the refrigerator, just as Sawyer had suggested. He squeezed a large dollop onto his fingertips, then very carefully began smoothing it over her skin. Her head dropped forward and she shivered.

“Cold?”

“It’s supposed to be.”

“I’m not hurting you?” Her skin was so delicate, even without the sunburn.

“No.”

There was a tiny quaking to her voice that made everything masculine in him sit up and take notice. Velvety soft curls on the back of her neck got in his way, and he used one hand to lift them while spreading the cream with the other. Her neck was long and graceful, her hair somewhat lighter here, more like a golden strawberry blond. “Feel better?”

“Mm. Yes.”

Gabe looked at her arms, saw they were pink and stepped to her side. He lifted her arm and said, “Brace your hand on my abdomen.”

She jerked her hand as if he’d suggested she cut it off. She held it protectively to her chest so he couldn’t take it again.

Gabe smiled. “C’mon, Lizzy. Don’t be shy. I just want to put the cream on you, and I’m even wearing a shirt. There’s no reason to act so timid.”

Her spine stiffened. “I am not acting timid! I’m just not used to how you…how you constantly…”

He could imagine what she’d eventually come up with, so he decided to help her. “How informal and comfortable and at ease I am? Yeah, that’s true. Touching someone isn’t a sin, sweetheart.” He pried her arm loose, being careful not to hurt her, then pressed her hand to his abdomen. His muscles were clenched rock hard, not on purpose, but in startling reaction to the feel of her small hand there. “See. That’s not so bad, is it?”

A tiny squeak.

Gabe lifted a brow, still covering her hand with his so she couldn’t retreat. “What was that?”

Lizzy glared at him and said, “No. It’s not…awful.”

Laughing, Gabe released her and reached for the cream. “Now just hold still.”

He could feel her trembling as he spread the sticky aloe cream up and down her slender arm. She felt so soft, so female, which he supposed made sense. It even made sense that his overcharged male brain immediately began to imagine how soft she was in other, more feminine places, like her inner thighs, her belly and lower.

He felt himself hardening and wanted to curse. Like a doomed man, he continued with his ministrations, torturing himself, but enjoying it all the same.

With only one hand to hold it, her sheet started to slip. Gabe froze as she made a frantic grab for it, his breath held, but she managed to maintain her modesty.

Sighing, he went to her other side, determined to behave himself. He was not a boy ready to take his first woman. He was experienced, mature…There was absolutely no reason for all the anticipation, all the keen tension.

His voice gruff, he said, “You know the drill.”

She looked away from him even as she thrust out her arm. Nervously, she said, “I have to admit I’m a little surprised to see you so fully dressed. I was beginning to think you didn’t own any shirts or slacks.”

He looked at his white T-shirt and faded jeans. The jeans were so old, so worn, they fit like a second skin—which meant that if she bothered to look at all, she’d see he had an erection. Again.

But of course she didn’t look. Gabe studied her averted face and smiled. “Are you disappointed that I came fully clothed, Lizzy?”

In prim tones, she replied, “Not at all.”

He didn’t quite believe her. Sure, he felt the tension, but then, so did she. She was practically vibrating with it. Yet she’d deny any attraction. Most women came on to him with force; this tactic was totally unusual…and intriguing.

She turned her face even more, until her chin almost hit the chair back. Gabe bit his lip to keep from laughing. Elizabeth Parks was about the most entertaining woman he’d ever met. It was probably a good thing she wouldn’t be here long or he’d get addicted to her prickly ways.

But until she left, he told himself, he might as well put them both out of their misery.

ELIZABETH DIDN’T quite know what to think when Gabe moved in front of her, insinuating his body into the small space between the Formica table and the chair where she sat. Every one of her nerve endings felt sensitized from the way he’d so gently stroked her. And now his lap was on a level with her gaze.

Her eyes widened. He was turned on! It wasn’t just her feeling so sexually charged. But unlike Gabe, she was the only one uncertain how to continue, or if she even should.

Gabe leaned very close and gripped the seat of the chair in his large hands. Elizabeth yelped when he lifted it and moved it far enough for him to kneel in front of her. Her heart beat so hard she felt slightly sick, her vision almost blurring.

He smelled of aftershave mingled with his own unique scent. Never in her life had she noticed a man’s smell before. She wished she could bottle Gabe’s particular aroma—she’d make a fortune. There couldn’t be a woman alive who wouldn’t love his enticing scent.

His lips grazed her ears and he said softly, “I’m going to finish putting the cream on you, then we’re going to do a little experimenting, all right?”

The soft, damp press of his mouth on her temple served as a period to his statement. He phrased his comment as a question, but given the heat suffusing her, it had to be rhetorical.

Her hands opened and closed fitfully on the sheet. “What exactly do you mean?”

Leaning back on his haunches, Gabe stared at her and caught the hem of the sheet. “Your legs are burned, too.” His rough palms slid up the back of her calves all the way to her knees, baring them as the sheet parted.

Elizabeth pressed herself back in the chair, her legs tightly clenched together, her toes curled. Good Lord, surely he didn’t mean…

The sheet fell open over her thighs, barely leaving her modesty intact. She tried to hold it closed at her breasts and still push his hands away, but Gabe wasn’t having it.

“Shhh. Shh, Lizzy, it’s all right.” He held perfectly still, not moving, not rushing her, waiting for her to calm down and either acquiesce or reject him.

“You’re looking at me!” she said, not really wanting him to stop but unable to contain her embarrassment.

“Just your legs, sweetheart. And I’ve already seen them, right?”

She sucked in a quick, semicalming breath. He was right, in a way. “It just…it feels different.”

“Because you’re naked beneath the sheet?” His fingers continued to stroke up and down her calves, pausing occasionally to gently explore the back of her knees with a touch so gentle, so hot.

She’d had no idea the back of a knee could be an erogenous zone!

Gabe watched her, waiting for an answer. She forced the words past the constriction in her throat. “Yes, because I’m naked beneath the sheet.”

“Am I hurting you, Lizzy?”

She shook her head, heated by the tone of his voice, the careful way he was treating her.

“Do you like this?” He began stroking her again, avoiding her sunburned areas while finding places that were ultrasensitive but nonthreatening.

His hands were so large, so dark against her paler complexion. Working hands, she thought stupidly, rough and callused. She gulped. Words were beyond her, but she managed a nod. She did like it. A lot.

Gabe met her gaze with a smoldering look, his eyes blazing, his tone low and soothing and seductive. “Relax for me, sweetheart. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do.”

Relaxing was the absolute last thing she could accomplish. Her thoughts swirled as he reached for the cream and squeezed a large dollop into his palm. She had no real idea what he intended, but the look on his face told her it would be sensual and that she’d probably enjoy it a great deal.

Should she allow this? How could she not allow it? Never in her entire life had a man pursued her. Certainly not a man like Gabe Kasper. She could do her thesis and indulge in an episode that might well prove to be the highlight of her entire life. Who was she kidding, she thought. It was already the highlight of her life!

She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, trying to order her thoughts, and suddenly felt his fingertips stroke up the inside of her thigh.

She moaned long and low, unable to quiet the sound. It came as much from expectation as from his touch.

“Look at me, Lizzy.”

He was asking a lot, considered how tumultuous her emotions were at the moment. It took several seconds and the stillness of his hand on her leg for her to finally comply.

Gabe was breathing roughly. His mouth quirked the tiniest bit. “I don’t know what it is about you, Red, but you make me feel like I’m going to explode.” His fingers moved in a tantalizing little caress that made her breath catch. “Have you ever played baseball?”

She blinked, trying to comprehend the absurd question. “I…no.”

Gabe nodded. “I’ll teach you baseball. But probably not the kind of sport you think I mean.” Still holding her gaze, he bent his golden blond head and pressed a soft, damp kiss onto her burned knee. “Much as I’d like to do otherwise, I think we’ll just try first base tonight. If you don’t like it, say stop and that’ll be it. If you do like it, then tomorrow at the drive-in, we’ll go to second base. Do you understand?”

He continued to place soft, warm kisses on her skin. Seeing his head there, against her legs, when no man had ever even gotten within touching distance before, was a fascinating discovery. She couldn’t have conjured up something so hot, so erotic, in her wildest dreams.

“I think so.” Her throat felt raw, but then she had an absolutely gorgeous hunk of a man kneeling at her feet, staring at her with lust, his hot fingers stroking her leg. “Is what you’re doing now considered first base?”

Very slowly, Gabe shook his head. “No, this is just torture for me.” He gave her a rascal’s grin, and his blue eyes darkened. “For right now, I’m going to just finish putting on the cream. I want you as comfortable as possible. But to keep us both distracted, I’d like to learn a little more about you, okay?”

She probably would have agreed to anything in that moment. She was equally mesmerized and frantic and curious. “All right.”

On his knees, Gabe opened his legs so that they enclosed her; his chest was even with her lap. He scooped more of the cream from his palm and began applying it in smooth, even strokes that felt like live fire. Not painfully, but with incredible promise.

“Tell me why you chose heroism for your thesis.”

Oh, no. She couldn’t explain that, not right now, not to him. She cleared her throat, trying to disassociate her mind from his touch so she could form coherent words. “I’m majoring in psychology. Most of the topics have been done to death. This seemed…unique.”

Gabe tilted his head. “Is that right? What gave you the idea for heroism?”

She bit her lip, trying to sort out what she could tell him and what she couldn’t. “I’ve always been fascinated by the stories of people who managed to muster incredible courage or strength at the time of need.”

“Like the adrenaline rush? A woman who lifts a car to free her trapped child, a man who ignores burns to rescue his wife from a house fire. Those types of things?”

“Yes.” The adrenaline rush that made saving someone important possible. Her throat tightened with the remembrance of how she’d failed, how she’d not been able to react at all, except as a coward.

“Hey?” Gabe finished her legs and carefully replaced the sheet, surprising her…disappointing her. “Are you all right, babe?”

His perceptiveness was frightening, especially when it involved a part of herself she fully intended to keep forever hidden. She went on the defensive without even stopping to think what she was doing or how he might view her response. Meeting his gaze, she said, “I’m not sure I like all these endearments you keep using. And especially not ‘babe.’ It sounds like you’re talking to an infant.”

Rather than hardening at her acerbic tone, his expression softened. “There’s something you’re not telling me, Lizzy.”

Panic struck; she absolutely could not bear for him to nose into her private business. He was everything she wasn’t, and she accepted that. But she didn’t want her face rubbed in it. “I thought you were going to teach me about baseball!”

One side of his mouth kicked up, though his eyes continued to look shadowed with concern. “All right.” He touched her chin with a fingertip. “Baseball is something we play in high school, but somehow I think you missed out on that.”

His searching gaze forced her to acknowledge that with a nod. “I was very shy in high school.”

“There was just you and your father, right?”

“Yes. But we were very close.”

Gabe looked at her chest and she felt her breasts tighten in response. “That’s good. But it can’t make up for all the shenanigans and experiments and playfulness that teenagers indulge in with each other.”

“My father,” she admitted, willing to give him some truths, “tried to encourage me to go out more often. He was more than willing to supply me with the popular clothes and music and such. On my sixteenth birthday he even bought me a wonderful little car. But I wasn’t really interested.”

Talking was becoming more difficult by the moment. She knew Gabe was listening, but he was also caressing her with his eyes, and she knew what he saw. Her nipples were peaked, pressing against the white sheet almost painfully. But she liked the way he looked at her and didn’t want him to stop.

With a bluntness that stunned her, Gabe suddenly said, “I’m going to touch your breasts. That’s first base. All right?”

He didn’t wait for her permission, but got more of the cooling cream and prepared to apply it her chest. Elizabeth held her breath, frozen, not daring to move for fear he’d stop—and for fear he wouldn’t. She was excited, but also cautious. Whenever she’d imagined getting intimate with a man, she hadn’t envisioned all this idle chitchat. She’d always assumed things would just…happen. She’d pictured getting carried away with passion, not having a man tease and explain and ask permission.

With the cream in one palm, Gabe closed his free hand around her wrist and gently pried her fingers from the sheet.

“Breathe, Lizzy.”

She did, in a long choked gasp. The sheet slipped, but not far enough to bare her completely. Gabe’s nostrils flared and his cheekbones flushed. He carried her shaking hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss into her palm, then placed her hand on her lap.

She tried to prepare herself but when she felt the cream on her skin she jumped. Again, Gabe whispered, “Shh…” in a way that sounded positively carnal. She was oblivious to the sting of her burned skin as his fingers dipped lower and lower. The edge of his thumb brushed her nipple.

His gaze leaped to hers, so intense she felt it clear to her bones. He leaned forward to blow on her skin. “I should be shot,” he whispered, “for letting your sweet hide get burned like this.”

His breath continued to drift over her, making goose-flesh rise, making her shiver in anticipation. His lips lightly touched the upper swell of her right breast. But that wasn’t the only touch she was aware of. His hair, cool and so very soft, brushed against her and his hard muscled thighs caged her calves. Against one shin, she felt his throbbing erection.

She moaned.

Gabe nuzzled closer to her nipple, very close, but not quite touching her there. “I like that, Lizzy, the way you make that soft, hungry little sound deep in your throat. It tells me so much.”

His lips moved against her skin, adding to her sensitivity. She wasn’t used to playing games, and she sure as certain wasn’t used to wanting something so badly that her entire body trembled with the need. It wasn’t a conscious decision on her part, but her hands lifted, sank into his hair and directed his mouth where she wanted it most.

Gabe gave his own earthy, raw groan just before his mouth clamped down on her throbbing nipple, suckling her through the sheet. Her body tensed, her back arching, her fingers clenching, her head falling back as her eyes closed. It was by far the most exquisite thing she had ever experienced. With her eyes closed, her senses were attuned to every rough flick of his tongue, the heat inside his mouth, the sharp edge of his teeth. She wanted to savor every sensation, store them all away to remember forever. Breathless, she whispered, “It’s…it’s not like I thought it’d be.”

Gabe stroked with his tongue, soaking the sheet and plying her stiff nipple. “No?” His voice was a rough rasp and he sat back to view his handiwork, eyeing her shimmering breasts with satisfaction.

She didn’t care. He could look all he wanted as long as he kissed her like that again. Shaking her head, Elizabeth ignored the way some of her hair tumbled free. “No,” she admitted. “I used to daydream about a man doing that some day.” She stroked his head, luxuriating in the cool silk of his thick hair. “But never a man like you, and it never felt quite that…deep.”

His hands settled on either side of her hips, his long fingers curving to her buttocks. Heavy-lidded, he watched her. “What do you mean by deep?”

Elizabeth placed her hand low on her belly. “I feel it here. Every small lick or suck…I feel it inside me.”

Gabe groaned again, then feasted on her other nipple. Elizabeth let her hands drift down his strong shoulders, then farther to his upper arms. She felt half insensate with the pleasure, half driven by curiosity to explore his pronounced biceps. His arms were rigid, braced hard on the chair and her behind.

He leaned back again, his breath heavy, his mouth wet. Still he looked at her body, not her face. “What did you mean, a man like me?”

Elizabeth had to gather her wits, had to force her eyes open. Gabe lifted one hand and, with the edge of his thumb, teased a wet nipple. The sheet offered no barrier at all, and when she looked down, Elizabeth could see that the sheet was all but transparent.

She wanted his mouth on her again.

“I always thought…” She swallowed hard, trying to form the correct words. “I’d hoped that some day I’d get intimate with a man, but I assumed he’d be more like me.”

Slowly, Gabe’s gaze lifted until he was studying her intently. But his hand was still on her breast, still driving her to distraction. “Like you, how?”

She shook her head. “Boring. Introverted. Something of a wallflower. Homely.”

She gasped as Gabe lurched to his feet and glared at her. Her mouth open in a small O, her eyes wide, she watched him, uncertain what had caused that sudden, heated reaction.

Gabe propped his hands on his lean hips, and his chest rose and fell with his labored efforts to gain control. His eyes were burning, his brows down, his mouth a hard line.

He shook his head and made a disgusted sound. “Damn it, Red, now you’ve gone and made me mad.”

GABE WATCHED HER struggle to follow his words. She looked like sin and temptation and sweetness all wrapped together. Her heavy dark red hair was half up, half down, giving her a totally wanton look. Her skin was flushed beyond the sunburn, her eyes heavy lidded with sensuality but somewhat dazed by his annoyance.

It made him unreasonably angry for her to put herself down, though what she’d said had mirrored his earlier thoughts. Looking at her, he doubted any man could think her unattractive. He sure as hell didn’t.

Reminded of that, he stalked a foot closer and grabbed her wrist, carrying her hand to his groin. Her mouth fell open as he forced her palm against his erection. “You know what that means, Red?”

She nodded dumbly, so still she wasn’t even breathing.

“What? Tell me what it means?”

Her eyes left his face to stare at her hand, then to his face again. “That you’re excited.”

“Right. Do you think I’d get excited over a homely woman?”

She didn’t answer.

He moved her hand, forcing her to stroke him, driving himself crazy. “The answer is no,” he said with a rasp. “Now here’s another question.” The words were forced out through his teeth because Lizzy was no longer passive. Her hand had relaxed, opened, and her fingers curved around him. In a moment of wonder, Gabe realized he was the first guy she’d ever touched.

It was a heady thought.

He wasn’t having an easy time controlling himself, but two deep breaths later, he finally managed to say, “Do you think, Red, that this happens to me often?”

“Yes.”

That one breathy whispered word nearly made his knees buckle. He released her wrist and stepped back, but she leaned forward at the same time, maintaining the contact. “Well, you’re wrong.” He nearly strangled when she licked her lips in innocent, unthinking suggestion, her gaze still glued to his crotch. Gabe growled and said, “If you stroke me one more time you’re going to see the consequences.”

He clenched his fists, tightened his thighs, and luckily she let him go. When he could focus again, Gabe looked at her. Blinking rapidly, Lizzy continued to study his body. Suddenly aware of his renewed attention, she looked him in the eyes and asked, “Can I feel you some more?”

Yes. “No, not right now.”

“When?”

He nearly choked on a laugh. “You persistent, curious little witch,” he accused.

“You…you don’t want me to?”

“I want you to too much.”

Her tongue came out to stroke her lips again, making his blood thicken. “Then…”

“Tomorrow,” he said quickly, before she could push him over the edge with her wanton questions. Knowing she wanted him, knowing he’d be the first man she’d ever explored, that she’d learn from him, was possibly the strongest aphrodisiac known to man. “At the drive-in. We’ll go to second base, remember?”

Her eyes were dreamy. “You promise?”

Gabe gave one sharp nod while stifling a reflexive groan. He’d never survive. Was she wet right now? He’d be willing to bet she was, wet and hot, and he knew in every fiber of his being that she’d be so tight she’d kill him with pleasure. “I should go.”

She came to her feet so fast she nearly stumbled over the sheet. Gabe caught her by the upper arms, heard her sharp intake of breath as his hands closed tightly on her burned skin, and he cursed himself. He released her, but she didn’t step away; she stepped closer.

He felt like a total cad. “I can’t believe I’m here seducing you when you’re in pain.” He’d aroused her, but there wasn’t much chance of satisfying her without also causing her a lot of discomfort. She was so sunburned that just about any position would be impossible.

Her big eyes stared at him with wonder. “You were seducing me?”

Gabe stared at the ceiling, looking for inspiration but finding none. “What the hell did you think I was doing, Lizzy?”

She said simply, “Playing with me.”

“Oh, yeah.” A fresh surge of blood rushed to his groin, making him break out in a sweat. He felt every pulse beat in his erection, and ground his teeth with the need to finish what he’d started.

He was so hard he hurt and he knew damn well he’d have a hell of a time sleeping tonight. “I’ll play with you, all right. Playing with a woman’s body is about the most pleasure a man can expect. And when a woman has a body like yours…I’m not sure I can live through it.”

She stared at him while she chewed on her lips, and he could almost see the wheels turning. Gently, he touched a finger to her swollen mouth. “No, sweetheart, we can’t tonight. You’re in no shape to tussle with a man, and I’m too damn horny to be as careful as I’d need to be.”

Her eyes flared over his blunt language, but he was too far gone to attempt romantic clichés. She touched his chest tentatively. “Would…would you like to just stay and talk for awhile?”

So you can work on seducing me? He knew he should say no, should remove himself from temptation, but he couldn’t. She looked so hopeful, so sweet and aroused, he nodded. “Sure. Why don’t you go get a dry sheet and I’ll pour us some drinks. Sawyer did say you should have lots of fluids.”

Her smile was beatific. “Okay.”

Gabe watched the sassy sway of a perfect heart-shaped bottom and groaned anew. Damn, she was hot, and her being unaware of it only made her more so.

He found two tall glasses in the cabinet and opened the tiny apartment-size fridge. There was orange juice, milk and one cola. He poured two glasses of orange juice and carried them into the living room. When he set them down, he again noticed the pictures on the shelves and walked closer to examine them.

One was of a much younger Lizzy. Her red hair gave her away, although in the photo she wore long skinny braids and had braces on her teeth. Gabe grinned, thinking she looked oddly cute. An older woman with hair of a similar color, cut short and stylish, smiled into the camera while hugging Lizzy close. Her mother, Gabe decided, and felt a sadness for Lizzy’s loss. No child should ever lose a mother at such a young age.

The other picture was of her father, sitting in a straight-backed chair, with Lizzy behind him. She had one pale hand on his shoulder; neither of them were smiling. Her father looked tired but kind, and Lizzy had an endearing expression of forbearance, as if she’d hated having the picture taken. She was older in this one, probably around seventeen. She was just starting to grow into her looks, he decided. Her freckles were more pronounced, her eyes too large, her chin too stubborn. Added years had softened her features and made them more feminine.

As Gabe went to replace the framed photograph on the shelf, he caught sight of an album. Curious, thinking to find more pictures of her and her life, Gabe picked it up and settled into the sofa. A folded transcript of her grades fell out. As he’d suspected, Lizzy was an overachiever, with near perfect marks in every subject. She’d already received recognition from the dean for being at the head of her class. He shook his head, wondering how anyone could take life so seriously. Then he opened the album.

What he found shocked him speechless.

There were numerous clipped articles, all of them focusing on her mother’s death. They appeared to be from small hometown papers, and Gabe could relate because of all the fanfare he’d gotten in the local papers when he’d stopped the runaway boat.

Only these articles didn’t appear to be very complimentary. Keeping one ear open for signs of Lizzy’s return, Gabe began to read.

Girl fails to react: Eleanor Parks died in her car Saturday night after being forced off the road by a semi. The overturned car wasn’t visible from the road, and while Elizabeth Parks escaped with nonfatal injuries, shock kept her from seeking help. Medical authorities speculate that, with timely intervention, Mrs. Parks may well have survived.

Appalled, Gabe read headline after headline, and with each word, a horrible ache expanded in his heart, making his chest too tight, his eyes damp. God, he could only imagine her torment.

Daughter Slow to React: Mother Dies
Unnecessary Death—The Trauma of Shock
Daughter Stricken with Grief—Must Be Hospitalized
Father Defends Daughter in Time of Grief

What could it have felt like for a twelve-year-old child to accept the guilt of her mother’s death? Not only had she lost the one person she was likely closest to, but she’d been blamed by insensitive reporters and medical specialists.

Feeling a cross between numbness and unbearable pain, Gabe carefully replaced the album beneath the photos. He thrust his fisted hands into his pockets and paced. So this was what had her in such an all-fire tizzy to interview heroes. He grunted to himself, fair sick of the damn word and its connotations. How could an intelligent, independent woman compare her reactions as a twelve-year-old child to those of a grown man? It was ludicrous, and he wanted to both shake her and cuddle her close, swearing that nothing would ever hurt her again.

He swallowed hard against the tumultuous, conflicting emotions that left him feeling adrift, uncertain of himself and his purpose. When he heard her bedroom door open, he stepped away from the shelves and crossed the carpeted floor to stare at her with volatile feelings that simmered close to erupting. They weren’t exactly joyous feelings, but feelings of acute awareness of her as a woman, him as a man, of the differences in their lives and how shallow he’d been in his assumptions.

Lizzy, wrapped in a very soft, pale blue terry-cloth robe, widened her eyes at him and asked carefully, “Gabe? What’s wrong?”

It felt like his damn heart was lodged in his throat, making it hard to swallow, doubly hard to speak. He hated it, hated himself and his cavalier attitude. Gently he cupped her face in his palms and bent to kiss her soft mouth, which still trembled slightly with the urges he’d deliberately created. He’d thought to say something soothing to her, something reassuring, but as her mouth opened and her hands sought his shoulders, Gabe decided on a different approach.

He’d get Lizzy over her ridiculous notions of guilt. He’d make her see herself as he saw her—a sexy, adorable woman filled with mysteries and depth. And he’d make damn sure she enjoyed herself in the bargain.

ELIZABETH FELT like she was floating, her feet never quite touching the ground. She said hello to the people she passed on the main street while heading to the diner to meet Misty and Honey Hudson. She hadn’t had much sleep the night before, having been too tightly strung from wanting Gabe and from the slight lingering discomfort of her sunburn.

Today it was a toss-up as to which bothered her more. Gabe had stayed an additional hour, but he hadn’t resumed the heated seduction. Instead, he’d been so painstakingly gentle, so filled with concern and comfort, it had been all she could do not to curl up on his lap and cuddle. He’d have let her. Heck, he’d tried several times to instigate just such a thing.

By the time he’d left and she’d prepared for bed, she’d been tingling all over, ultrasensitized by the brush of his mouth, the stroke of his fingertips, his low husky voice and constant string of compliments.

He thought her freckles were sexy. He thought her red hair was sexy. Oh, the things he’d said about her hair. She blushed again, remembering the way he’d looked at her while speculating on the contrast of her almost-brown brows and the vivid red of her hair, wondering about the curls on the rest of her body.

He was big and muscular and outrageous and all male. She’d already decided that if he was willing to begin an involvement, she’d be an utter fool to rebuff him. The things he made her feel were too wonderful to ignore.

When she entered the small diner, several male heads turned her way. They didn’t look at her as Gabe did, but rather with idle curiosity because she was a new face. She located the women, talking to a waitress at the back of the diner in a semiprivate booth. They all had their backs to her as she approached.

She was only a few feet away when she heard Misty say, “I think he’s dumbstruck by his own interest. She’s not at all the type of woman he usually goes after and he doesn’t know what to make of that.”

Honey laughed. “That’s an understatement. Sawyer told me Gabe started chasing the ladies when he was just a kid, and he usually caught them. By the time he was fifteen, they were chasing him.”

The waitress shook her head. Elizabeth recognized her as one of the women who’d been at the docks the day she’d first tracked down Gabe.

“That’s nothing but the truth,” the woman said. “Gabe can sit on the dock and the boats will pull in or idle by just to look at him. He always accepts it as his due, because it’s what he’s used to. I remember how he reacted when Elizabeth first showed up there. He didn’t like her at all, but then she didn’t seem to like him much, either, and I sorta think that’s the draw. He’s not used to women not gushing all over him.”

“I just hope he doesn’t hurt her. Gabe is a long way from being ready to settle down for more than a little recreation. But every woman he gets together with falls in love with him.”

Misty agreed with her sister. “He’s a hedonistic reprobate, but an adorable one.”

Elizabeth was frozen to the spot. She wasn’t an eavesdropper by nature, but she hadn’t quite been able to announce herself. In love with Gabe? Yes, she supposed she was halfway there. How stupid of her, how naive to think he’d be truly interested in her for more than a quick tumble. As the women had implied, he evidently found her odd and was challenged by her.

The differences between her and Gabe had never felt more pronounced than at that precise moment. Because she was so inexperienced, not just sexually but when it came to relationships of any kind, she knew she’d be vulnerable to a man’s attention. And Gabe wasn’t just any man. His interest in her, no matter how short-term, was like the quintessential Cinderella story. Gabe was more than used to taking what he wanted from women, not in a selfish demand, but in shared pleasure. He’d assumed Elizabeth understood that, and that the enjoyment of playtime would be mutual. And it would be. She’d see to it.

A short, humorless laugh nearly choked her…and drew the three women’s attention. Elizabeth mentally shook her head as she stepped forward with a feigned smile. None of it mattered; she still wanted him, wanted to experience everything he could show her, teach her. She wanted to really truly feel once again. Since her mother’s death and the appearance of the harsh, dragging guilt, it seemed as if she hadn’t really been living, that anything heartfelt or lasting had been blunted by the need to make amends, to understand her weakness.

Her heart hurt, but pride would keep her from showing it. She’d accept Gabriel Kasper on any terms, and he’d never know that she dreamed of more. She’d enjoy herself, without regrets, without demands.

Despite her past, she deserved that much.

The waitress, looking cautious, indicated a chair. “Hey, there, Elizabeth. Remember me?”

Again, Elizabeth smiled. “Ceily, from the boat docks, right? Yes, I remember. I hadn’t realized you worked here.” She carefully lowered herself into her seat and nodded at both sisters. Honey and Misty looked guilty, and Elizabeth tried to reassure them by pretending she hadn’t heard a thing. “I hope I’m not too late?”

“Not at all,” Misty said quickly. Her baby was sitting beside her in the booth on a pumpkin seat. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought Amber along.”

Elizabeth leaned over slightly to peer at the baby. “How could anyone ever object to that darling little angel?”

When she’d been a young girl, still fanciful and filled with daydreams, Elizabeth used to imagine someday having a baby, coddling it as her mother had coddled her, but she’d set those fantasies aside when she’d accepted her shortcomings.

Misty beamed at the compliment. “Strangely enough, she looks just like Morgan.”

Ceily snorted at that outrageous comment. “Come on, Misty. I’ve never seen that little doll manage anything near the nasty scowl Morgan can dredge up without even trying.”

Honey laughed. “That’s true enough. But if Misty is even two minutes late to feed her, she has to contend with scowls and grumblings from both father and daughter. And I have to admit, they do resemble each other then. It sometimes seems to be a competition to see who can complain the loudest.”

Misty slid a gentle finger over her sleeping daughter’s cheek. “Morgan can’t stand it if she even whimpers, much less gives a good howl. I swear, he shakes like a skinny Chihuahua if Amber gets the least upset.”

Ceily made a sound of amused disgust. “I never thought I’d see the day when the brothers started settling down into blissful wedlock.”

Honey nudged Elizabeth, then quipped in a stage whisper, “Not that Ceily’s complaining. I think she’s the only female in Buckhorn County who isn’t pining for our men.”

Being included in that “our men” category made Elizabeth blush, but no one noticed as Ceily broke loose with a raucous laugh. “I know the brothers far too well. We’ve been friends forever and that’s not something I’d ever want to screw up by getting…romantic.”

“A wise woman,” Honey said, between sips of iced tea. “I think they all consider you something of a little sister.”

Ceily bit her lip and mumbled under her breath, “I wouldn’t exactly say that.” But Elizabeth appeared to be the only one who’d heard her.

Ceily took their orders and sauntered off. Elizabeth watched her surreptitiously, wondering just how involved the woman had been with the brothers. She was beautiful, in a very natural way, not bothering much with makeup or a fancy hairdo. She looked…earthy, with her light tan and sandy-brown hair. And Elizabeth remembered from seeing her in her bathing suit at the boat dock that Ceily was built very well, with the type of lush curves that would definitely attract the males.

She was frowning when Honey asked, “How’s the sunburn?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth drew herself together and shrugged. “Much better today. Your husband’s cream worked wonders. Would you thank him again for me?”

Honey waved away her gratitude. “No problem. Sawyer is glad to do it, I’m sure.”

Misty looked at her closely. “You don’t look nearly as pink today. I guess it’s fading fast.”

Forcing a laugh, Elizabeth admitted, “I can even wear my bra today without cringing.”

“Ouch.” Misty looked appalled by that idea. “Are you sure you should? This blasted heat is oppressive.”

It was only then that Elizabeth realized she was trussed up far more than Misty and Honey were. While they both wore comfortably loose T-shirts and cotton shorts with flip-flop sandals, Elizabeth had put a blouse under her long pullover dress and ankle socks with her shoes.

Deciding to be daring, she asked, “Does everyone dress so casually here? I mean, do you think anyone would notice if I wore something like that?” She indicated their clothes with a nod.

Honey laughed out loud. “Heck, yes. Gabe would notice! But then I get the feeling he’d notice you no matter what you wore. Watching him blunder around yesterday like a fish out of water was about the best entertainment we’ve had for awhile.”

Misty bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle a laugh. “Gabe teased both Sawyer and Morgan something terrible when they got involved with us. Now he’s just getting his due.”

“But we’re not involved.” Even as she said it, Elizabeth felt her face heating. She hoped the sisters would attribute it to her sunburn and not embarrassment.

“Maybe not yet, but Gabe’s working on it. I’ve gotten to know him pretty good since Sawyer and I married. He dates all the time, but he never mentions any particular woman. You he’s mentioned several times.”

Elizabeth didn’t dare ask what he’d said. She could just imagine. “I think I’ll buy myself some shorts today.”

“Good idea. This is a vacation lake. Very few people bother to put on anything except casual clothes.”

Ceily sidled up with Elizabeth’s drink and everyone’s food. Misty was having a huge hamburger with fries, but Honey and Elizabeth had settled on salads.

Misty made a face at them. “It’s the breast-feeding, I swear. I never ate like a hog before, but now I stay hungry all the time. Sawyer says I’m burning off calories.”

Honey pursed her lips, as if trying to keep something unsaid, then she appeared to burst. “I wonder if it’ll affect me that way.”

Misty froze with her mouth clamped around the fat burger. Like a sleepwalker she lowered the food and swallowed hard. “Are you…?”

Honey, practically shivering with excitement, nodded. Elizabeth almost jumped out of her seat when the two women squealed loudly and jumped up to hug across the table.

“When?” Misty demanded.

“In about six months. Late February.” Honey leaned forward. “But keep it down. I don’t want anyone else to know until I tell Sawyer.”

“You haven’t told him yet?”

“I just found out for sure this morning.” She turned to Elizabeth. “We hadn’t exactly been trying not to get pregnant, if you know what I mean, so it won’t be a shock. But I still think he’s going to make a big deal of it.”

Wide-eyed, Elizabeth had no idea what to say to that. She was…stunned that the sisters had included her in such a personal, familial announcement. She’d never in her life had close female friends. She’d always been too odd, too alone, to mix in any of the small groups in school.

But as it turned out, Elizabeth didn’t need to reply. Honey and Misty went back to chattering while they ate, and Elizabeth was loath to interrupt.

Finally, they wore down and simply settled back in their seats, smiling. The silence wasn’t an uncomfortable one, and Elizabeth found herself wondering about several things.

Trying to shake off her shyness, she asked, “Do you hope it’s a boy or a girl?”

Honey touched her stomach with a mother’s love. “It doesn’t really matter to me. Amber is so precious—a girl would be nice. But then, Casey is such an outstanding young man that I think a son would be perfect, too.”

Using that statement to lead into another question, Elizabeth pulled out her paper and pencil. “Do the brothers have any sisters?”

“Not a one. They only have male sperm, to hear them tell it.” Misty had a soft, almost secret smile on her face. “Morgan calls Amber his little miracle.”

Honey sighed. “Sawyer even warned me before we were married that I should resign myself to baby boys. The way they dote on Amber, as if none of them had ever seen a baby girl before, is hysterical. I keep telling them she’s no different from Casey when he was an infant, but they just look at me like I’m nuts.”

Elizabeth grinned at that image. “In a nice sort of way,” she ventured cautiously, so she wouldn’t offend, “they seem a bit sexist.”

“Oh, they’re sexist all right! And very old-fashioned, but as you said, in a nice way. They insist on helping a woman whenever they can, but they’d refuse to admit it if they needed help.”

“Not that they ever do,” Honey added. “They’re the most self-reliant men I’ve ever seen. Their mother made sure they could cook and clean and fend for themselves.”

Misty leaned forward to speak in a whisper. “Morgan says all he needs me for is to keep him happy.” Her eyebrows bobbed. “You know what I mean.” Then she settled back with a blissful sigh. “But then he’ll show me it’s so much more than that. We talk about everything and share everything. He unloads his worries at night over dinner and he says he misses me all day when he’s working.”

“Do you still work here in the diner?”

“Part-time, just for the fun of it. It keeps Morgan on his toes. He has this absurd notion that every guy in town comes here to eat just to ogle his wife.” She laughed. “In truth, there’s not a guy around who would look for more than two seconds for fear of incurring Morgan’s wrath.”

“He has a temper?”

“No, not really.”

Honey choked, accidentally spraying iced tea across the table. Alarmed, Elizabeth quickly handed her a napkin. Biting back a laugh, Honey mumbled, “Sorry.”

But Misty wasn’t offended. “You should talk,” she said primly. “Morgan is still bragging about that fight Sawyer had over you.”

“What about Gabe?” Elizabeth asked. “Is he a hell-raiser?”

“Gabe? Heck, no, Gabe’s a lover, not a fighter. Not that I doubt he could handle himself in any situation.”

Elizabeth tried to sound only mildly curious as she pursued that topic. “He has himself something of a reputation, doesn’t he?”

Misty shrugged. “I suppose, but it’s not a bad one. Folks around here just love him, that’s all.”

“You know,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully as she set aside her pencil and propped her elbows on the table, “I think it’s amazing that he did something so heroic and yet he shrugs it off as nothing.”

Honey waved her fork dismissively. “They’re all like that. They’re strong and capable and well-respected and they don’t really think a thing of it. To them, it’s just how things are—they’re nothing special. But I know not a one of them would sit on the sidelines if someone needed help. That’s just the way they are.”

For over an hour, the women talked, and Elizabeth took page after page of background notes on the brothers, Gabe specifically. If some of her questions had nothing to do with her thesis…well, that was no one’s concern but her own.

When the lunch ended and she was ready to go, Elizabeth thanked both women. Misty had her wide-awake daughter cradled in her arms, cooing to her, so it was Honey who touched Elizabeth’s arm and said, “I hope we’ve been some help.”

Elizabeth could read the look in Honey’s eyes and understood her meaning. She smiled in acknowledgment. “You don’t have to worry. I know Gabe is still sowing his wild oats, so while I’m enjoying interviewing him, I’m not going to expect undying love. I’m a little more grounded in reality than that.”

Honey bit her lip then shared a look with her sister. Misty sighed. “He really is a doll, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is. But he’s a rascal too, and I’m well aware of just how serious he is, which isn’t very. Besides, I’m only here for the summer. I have another semester of college to go and then job hunting before I can ever think of getting attached to anyone. Gabe is fun and exciting, but I know that’s where it ends.”

Misty slid out of the booth to stand before Elizabeth, her brow drawn into a thoughtful frown. “Now, I’m not sure you should rule everything out.”

Honey agreed. “He is acting darned strange about all this.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Elizabeth knew they wanted to be kind, to spare her. “I’m not letting anything or anyone get in the way of my goals.”

“What are your goals? I know you said you’re doing your thesis on the mystique of heroes, but why?”

“I’m hoping to go into counseling. Too often the ordinary person tries to compare herself to the true heroes of the world and only comes up lacking, which is damaging to self-esteem. I’d like to be able to prove that there are real, tangible differences to account for the heroes.”

Before either sister could remark on that, Elizabeth asked for directions to Jordan’s veterinary office. He was the only brother she hadn’t spoken to yet. From what she’d heard, this particular brother was vastly different in many ways, but still enough to melt a woman’s heart.

She looked forward to grilling him.

GABE WRAPPED HIS ARM around Ceily from behind, then gave her a loud smooch on her nape. “Hey, doll,” he growled in a mock-hungry voice.

Jumping, Ceily almost dropped the tray of dirty dishes loading her down, and would have if Gabe hadn’t caught it in time.

Rounding on him, Ceily yelled, “Don’t do that, damn it! You about gave me a heart attack.”

“Shh.” Gabe grinned at her. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”

Ceily seemed to think that was very funny, judging by her crooked grin. “If you’re looking for your newest girlfriend, she already left.”

Disappointment struck him, and he muttered a low curse that made Ceily’s grin widen. “Do you know where she went?”

She took the tray from him and set it in the sink. “Maybe.”

“Ceily…”

With a calculating look, she said over her shoulder, “I need a leaking faucet fixed. I can talk while you repair.”

Gabe didn’t want to waste that much time, but he reluctantly agreed. Ceily was one of his best friends, and she made one hell of a spy. Though she didn’t gossip, she always seemed to know anything and everything that was said in her diner. “All right. Show me the sink.”

Five minutes later Gabe was on his back, shirtless to keep from getting too dirty, trying to tighten a valve. The job was simple, but Ceily needed new plumbing in a bad way. “I can fix it for now, hon, but we’re going to need to make major repairs soon. When’s good for you?”

Ceily was at his side on a stool, taking a quick break while business was slow. “You just give me the word and I’ll make the time.”

Seconds later, Gabe shoved himself out from under the sink and sat up. “All done. So start talking.”

Ceily checked the sink first, saw it was dry and nodded. “She went to see your brother Jordan, but she said she’s also going to do some shopping.” Ceily gave an impish smile. “She wants to dress more casual, like Misty and Honey.”

Gabe groaned. Misty and Honey had chic comfort down to a fine art. The women could wear cutoffs and T-shirts and look like sex personified. “I’ll never live through it.”

Ceily thought that was about the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Gabe used her knee for unnecessary leverage and came to his feet. “You care to share the joke?”

“You don’t think it’s amusing that the mighty Gabe Kasper, womanizer and renowned playboy, is being struck down by a prim little red-haired wallflower?”

Anger tightened his gut for an instant before Gabe hid it. He didn’t like anyone making fun of Lizzy, but he knew Ceily hadn’t meant to be nasty. She, like him, was merely surprised at his interest in a woman who was so different from his usual girlfriends.

But then, that was precisely why he felt so drawn to her.

He began lathering his hands in the sink while he gathered his thoughts. Ceily tilted her head at his silence, then let out a whistle.

“Well, I’ll be. You really are smitten, aren’t you?”

“Smitten is a stupid word, Ceily,” he groused. “Let’s just call it intrigued, okay?”

“Intrigued, smitten…doesn’t matter what you call it, Gabe, you’ve still got it bad.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Care to tell me why?”

Gabe lifted one shoulder in a shrug as he dried his hands on a frayed dish towel. “Lizzy is different.”

“You’re telling me!”

Gabe snapped her with the towel. “You are feeling sassy today, aren’t you?”

She yelped, then rubbed her well-rounded hip. There was a time when Gabe would have helped her with that, but he had no real interest in touching any woman, even playfully, except Lizzy. She had invaded his brain, and it was taking a lot of getting used to.

Ceily was still frowning when she said, “It’s not every day I get to witness the fall of the mighty Gabe.”

Lifting one brow, Gabe announced, “I didn’t fall, I jumped.”

“So it’s like that, huh?”

Gabe propped one hip on the side of the sink and watched Ceily. She was his friend and he’d always been able to talk with her. He loved his brothers dearly, but he could just imagine how they’d react if he started confessing to them. He’d never hear the end of it.

“It’s damn strange,” he admitted, “if you want the truth. One minute I didn’t like her at all, then I was noticing all these little things about her, then I was lusting after her….”

“Uh, I hate to point this out, Gabe, but you tend to lust over every available, of-age woman you meet.”

“Not like this.” He shook his head and considered all the differences. “You know as well as I do that most of the women have come pretty easy for me.”

Her look was ironic. “I have firsthand knowledge of that fact.”

Gabe looked up, startled. A slow flush crept up his neck. “I wasn’t talking about you, doll.” He reached out and flicked a long finger over her soft cheek. “We were both too young then to even know what we were doing.”

Ceily’s smile was slow and taunting. Despite the fact they’d once experimented a little with each other, their friendship had grown. Gabe was eternally grateful for that.

“As I recall,” she purred, teasing him, “you knew exactly what you were doing. And it was nice for my first time to be with someone I trusted and liked.”

Gabe felt as though he was choking. Ceily hadn’t mentioned that little episode in many years. And never would he point out to her exactly how inept he’d been back then. When she found the right guy, she’d realize it on her own. Curious, since she had brought it up, he asked, “Did you ever tell anyone?”

“Nope. And I know for a fact you haven’t, so don’t get all flustered. Besides, I’m not carrying a torch for you, Gabe. It was fun, but I want more.”

Gabe slid off the sink to give her a bear hug. Ceily was a very special person. “I know. And you’ll find it. You deserve the very best.”

She returned his hug and said with a hoity-toity accent, “I tend to think so.” Then she shoved him back a bit. “But I know what you mean. All the women for miles around come running when you crook your little finger.”

“Not all.” Gabe almost chuckled at the image she described, but felt forced to admit the truth. “I have been turned down a time or two, you know.”

Ceily scoffed. “Never with anyone who mattered.”

Gabe stared at her, and her eyes widened. “Oh, wait! Are you telling me Elizabeth Parks turned you down?”

Scowling, Gabe shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not telling you anything about Elizabeth. My point was just that most women want me because of my reputation, because they think I’m good-looking or sexy—”

Ceily bent double laughing.

Gabe glared. “Oh, to hell with it. There’s no talking to you today.”

He started to skirt around her, but she caught him from behind and held on to his belt loops, getting dragged two feet before he finally stopped. Still chuckling, she gasped, “No, wait! I want to hear what it is that she wants from you.”

Gabe heaved a deep sigh, then without turning to look at her, he admitted, “She thinks I’m some kind of damn hero and she wants to learn more about me, about my character and my family. She looks at me with this strange kind of excitement and…almost awe. Not for what we might do, or for what I might do to her, but for who she thinks I am. Damn, Ceily, no woman has ever done that before. And she hasn’t pursued me at all for anything else. If I’d be willing to go on answering her damn questions, she’d be happy as a lark to leave it at that.”

Last night, Gabe reminded himself, she’d been more than willing to do other things. But she hadn’t come to him, he’d gone to her. He’d set about seducing her when he hadn’t found it necessary to seduce a woman in ages.

And even then, he had the feeling that if he’d stuck her damn pencil in her hand, she’d have stopped cold in the middle of his sensual ministrations to start taking notes on his character. Now that he knew why it was so important to her, he not only felt turned on by her physically, he felt touched by her emotionally.

Seduction was a damn arousing business.

Ceily let go of his belt loops and smoothed her hand over the breadth of his back. “Poor Gabe. You really are adrift, huh?”

“I’m gonna turn you over my knee, Ceily.”

She laughed at such a ridiculous threat. “No, you won’t. Because I can give you some valuable advice.”

Very slowly Gabe turned to face her. “Is that right?”

“Yep. You see, I heard Elizabeth tell your sisters-in-law that she has no intention of hanging around here once school starts. She’s an academic sort and she has big plans for her life. If you hope to be part of those plans, you’d better get cracking, because I got the feeling that once she’s gone, she won’t be coming back.”

WHEN GABE let himself in through the back entrance of Jordan’s veterinary clinic, he found Elizabeth and Jordan leaning over an examination table. Their backs were to him, but he could see that Lizzy was cuddled close to Jordan’s side, Jordan’s arm was around her shoulders, and they were in intimate conversation.

Gabe saw red.

“Am I interrupting?” He had meant to ask that question with cold indifference, but even to his ears it had sounded like a raw challenge.

Jordan looked at him over his shoulder; he was smiling. “Come here, Gabe. Take a look.” Then he added, “But be very quiet.”

His brother’s voice had that peculiar soothing quality he used when treating frightened or injured animals. It was hypnotic and, according to all the women, sexy as hell.

Gabe barely stifled a growl. If Jordan was using that voice on Lizzy, he’d—

A very fat, bedraggled feline lay on the exam table, licking a new batch of tiny mewling kittens. Gabe glanced up at the look on Lizzy’s face and promptly melted.

Big tears glistened in her vivid blue eyes and spiked her lashes. As Gabe watched, she gave a watery smile and sniffed, then gently rubbed the battered cat behind what was left of an ear.

Softly, Jordan explained, “She got into a tussle with a neighboring dog and lost. No sooner did she get dropped off than she started birthing. Eight kittens.” Jordan shook his head. “She’s a trooper, aren’t you, old girl?” Jordan stroked his hand down the cat’s back, earning a throaty purr.

Lizzy sniffed again. “She’s a stray. Jordan says she’s undernourished, so we didn’t know if the kittens would be all right or not.” She peered at Gabe with a worried expression. “They are awfully small, aren’t they?”

Gabe smiled. “Most kittens are that tiny.”

“And how…yucky they look?”

Jordan chuckled. “She’ll have them all cleaned up and cozy in no time. The problem now is getting her into a pen. I hate to move her after she’s just given birth, but I can hardly leave her and the babies here on the table.”

Lizzy seemed to be considering that. “Do the pens open from the top or the front?”

“Both.”

“Then…Well, maybe we could just take the table cover and all, and put her in the pen. I mean, if you hold the two top corners, and Gabe holds the two bottom corners, and I sort of guide it in and make sure no babies tumble out…Would that work do you think?”

To Gabe’s annoyance, Jordan smiled and kissed Lizzy’s cheek. “I think that’s a brilliant idea. Gabe, keep an eye on this batch while I go find a big-enough pen. I’ll be right back.”

Gabe stepped next to Lizzy. “You’ve been crying.” Just being close to her made him feel funny—adrift, as Ceily had said. He didn’t know himself when he was this close to her, and he sure as hell didn’t recognize all the things she made him feel.

Lizzy bit her lip, which looked extremely provocative to Gabe. “I’ve never seen babies born before. It’s amazing.”

Gabe slipped his arm around her and nuzzled her ear. Keeping his hands, or his mouth, to himself was out of the question. “Did you help Jordan?”

She laughed softly. “Mostly I just tried to stay out of his way.”

Jordan said from behind them, “I couldn’t have done it without her. She has the touch, Gabe. No sooner did she stroke that old cat than she settled down and relaxed some. I was afraid I was going to have to sedate her, but Elizabeth’s touch was better than any shot I could give.”

Gabe made a noncommittal sound. He knew firsthand just how special Lizzy’s touch was.

Within minutes they had the mother and all her babies cozied up in the pen and set in a warm corner where there was plenty of sunshine and quiet. The mother cat, exhausted after her ordeal, dozed off.

“Will she be all right?” Gabe asked.

Elizabeth answered him. “Jordan said none of her injuries from the dog are significant. He cleaned up some scrapes and scratches, one not too horrible bite, and then she started birthing.” Laughing at herself, Lizzy admitted, “When she let out that first screeching roar, I thought she was dying. Jordan explained to me that she was just a mama in labor.”

Jordan, trying to slip clean dry bedding in around the mewling kittens, said, “Gabe, why don’t you show Elizabeth around the rest of the clinic?”

Lizzy’s eyes widened. “Could you? I’d love to see it.”

Since Gabe would love to get her alone, he agreed.

Everything about Elizabeth Parks fascinated him—her softness, her freckles, her temper, her awe at the sight of a yapping puppy or a sleeping bird. She was complex in many ways, crystal clear in others. By the time they were done looking around, Jordan had finished with the kittens and he showed no hesitation in embracing Lizzy again.

Gabe wanted to flatten him.

“Come back any time, Elizabeth.” He glanced at Gabe. “We can talk more.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

Gabe knew his ears were turning red, but damn it, he didn’t want her hanging around Jordan. He didn’t want her hanging around any man except himself.

And he still wasn’t too keen on her discussing him with everyone. God only knew what she might hear!

She finally stepped away from Jordan and faced both men. “I have to run off now. I have more errands to get through.”

She backed to the door as she said it, keeping a close watch on Gabe.

“What errands?” he asked suspiciously.

“Oh, the usual.” She reached for the doorknob and opened the door. “The library, the grocery store…a visit with Casey.”

The last was muttered and it took a second for it to sink in. Gabe scowled and started toward her. “Now wait just a damn minute—”

“Sorry! Gotta go.” She hesitated, then called, “I’ll see you tonight, Gabe!”

She was out the door before he could catch her. He would have given pursuit if Jordan hadn’t started laughing. At that moment, Gabe’s frustration level tipped the scales and he decided Jordan would make a fine target. Slowly he turned, his nostrils flared. “You have something to say?”

Jordan was his quietest brother, but also the deepest. He kept his thoughts to himself for the most part, and tended to view the world differently than the rest of them. He was more serious, more sensitive. Women loved him for those qualities.

What had Elizabeth thought of him?

Gabe waited and finally Jordan managed to wipe the grin off his face. “I’d say Elizabeth Parks is pretty special.”

Gabe’s muscles tightened until they almost cramped. He hadn’t thought her special at first, but now that he did, he didn’t want anyone else—anyone male—to think it. “Me, too,” he snarled.

Jordan was supremely unaffected by his anger. “Going to do anything about it?”

“It?”

Jordan shook his head as if he pitied Gabe. “You remind me of a junkyard dog who’s just sniffed a female in heat. You’re trying to guard the junkyard and still lay claim to the female.”

“I’m not at all sure I like that analogy.”

Jordan shrugged. “It fits. And if I was you, I’d get my head clear real quick.”

Because he wasn’t sure how to do that, Gabe didn’t comment. Instead, he asked, “What did you think of her?”

“Sexy.”

That single word hit him like a solid punch in the ribs. He wheezed. “Damn it, Jordan…”

“What? You think you’re the only one to notice?” Again, Jordan shook his head. “I’ve got a waiting room full of clients, so I’ll make this quick. No, Elizabeth’s sex appeal isn’t up-front and in your face. But it only takes about two minutes of talking with her, of watching her move and hearing her voice and looking into those incredible blue eyes to know she’s hotter than hell on the inside.”

It was so unlike Jordan to speak that way that Gabe was rendered mute.

“If you could have seen how gentle her hands were when she touched that frightened cat, well…You can imagine where a man’s mind wanders when seeing that. And the look of discovery on her face when the first kitten appeared, and her husky voice when she’s getting emotional…” Jordan shrugged. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know those same qualities would carry over into the rest of her life. She’s sensitive and tenderhearted and something about her is a little wounded, making her sympathetic to boot.”

Gabe rubbed both hands over his face, those elusive emotions rising to choke him.

Jordan slapped him on the back. “Add to that an incredible body…Well, there you have it.”

“I’m sorry I asked,” Gabe moaned.

Jordan turned his brother around and steered him toward the door. They were of a similar height and build, but Gabe was numb, so moving him was no problem. “Go. I have work to do.”

Gabe was just over the threshold when Jordan said his name again. Turning, Gabe raised one brow.

“I talked you up real nice, told her what a sterling character you have, but somehow I got the impression she’s given up on you already.” Jordan shrugged. “Not that she isn’t interested, because I could tell she is. I’m not sure what you’ve been doing with her, and it’s certainly none of my business, but every time she said your name, she blushed real cute.”

Eyes narrowed, Gabe muttered, “That’s sunburn.”

“No, that was arousal. Credit me with enough sense to know the difference.”

Gabe started back in and Jordan flattened a hand on his sternum, holding him off. “The thing is,” Jordan said with quiet emphasis, “her thoughts are as clear as the written word, and from what I could tell, she’s determined that what she feels is only sexual. So if that’s not what you want, I’d say you have a problem. One that you better start working on real quick.”

It was the second time in one day that Gabe had been given that advice. Without another word he stomped off, his mind churning with confusion. Yes, he wanted more, but how much more? Hell, he barely knew the woman. And she did have an education to finish, one that was obviously important to her.

All he could do, Gabe decided, was take it day by day. He’d get inside her brick wall, get her to talk to him, and maybe, with any luck, he’d find out that Elizabeth wanted him for more than a sexual fling or a college thesis.

But for how much more was anyone’s guess.

ELIZABETH FELT like a puddle of nerves on the drive to the movies that night. In quite a daring move, she’d changed from her earlier clothes into another dress, this one a tad shorter, landing just below her knees, and with a bodice that unbuttoned. She felt downright wanton. Not because the clothing was in any way revealing, but because of why she’d chosen it in the first place.

Thinking of Gabe’s hands stealing under her skirt in search of second base or opening her buttons to linger on first base had her in a frenzy of anticipation.

Nervously, she glanced at his profile. He was quiet, his jaw set as he concentrated on driving. His strange, introspective mood seemed to permeate the car. She cleared her throat and said boldly, “Do you realize how many firsts I’ve had since meeting you?”

He jerked, his gaze swinging toward her for a brief instant. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She had to make him understand, Elizabeth thought. The last thing she wanted to happen, now that she was getting into the novelty of this unique courtship, was for Gabe to feel pressured and back off. His sisters-in-law had been clearly concerned that she might get hurt. Perhaps Gabe would worry about the same thing. But if she reassured him that they wanted the same thing, a pleasant way to pass the time during her visit, with no strings attached, then he’d feel free to continue his wonderful attentions.

And they were wonderful. Gabe made her feel sexy, when all her life she’d felt plain to the point of being invisible. He made her feel feminine when she’d never paid much attention to her softness before, except that it made her weaker, less competent in a crisis. And he made her feel sexually hungry when she hadn’t even known such a hunger existed.

“I like your brother.”

Gabe shot her a dark look. “Which one?”

“Well, all of them, but I was talking about Jordan. He’s different from the rest of you.”

Gabe’s hands squeezed the wheel tightly. “Yeah? How so?”

“Quieter. More…intense. He’s so gentle with the animals. I felt totally at ease with him, and that was certainly a first.”

Gabe’s jaw locked so hard she wondered that he didn’t get a headache. “You’re not at ease with me?”

Around Gabe she was tense and so hot she thought she might catch fire. But she wouldn’t tell him that. “It was just different with Jordan. And he let me help with that cat. I’ve never seen babies born before.” Her voice softened, but she couldn’t help it. Seeing the tiny little wet creatures emerging was a true miracle. “Have you? Seen babies born, I mean?”

“Sure.” Gabe glanced at her, then at the road. “Jordan keeps all kinds of pets around the house. We all like animals, Lizzy. He’s not different in that.”

“But Jordan’s…I don’t know. More discreet than the rest of you. Softer.”

“Ha!” Gabe shifted in his seat, looking disgruntled. “Don’t let Jordan fool you! He’s quieter, I’ll give you that. But he’s a man, same as I am.”

“Gabe, I didn’t mean to draw a comparison.” She couldn’t understand his reaction. It was almost as if…no. There was no way Gabriel Kasper could be jealous of his brother. She decided to change the subject.

“I had lunch with Honey and Misty today.”

Gabe’s brows pulled down the tiniest bit. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes.” Elizabeth pleated the edge of her skirt with her fingertips. “I’ve never really hung out with other women before. It was fun. The things they talk about…”

There was a strange darkness to his eyes as he asked, “What things?”

She shrugged. “Women things.” She had no intention of telling him Honey was pregnant. Now that she’d been initiated into the wonders of doing lunch with the ladies, she’d didn’t want to do anything to ruin it. When Honey told her husband the news, then Gabe would find out. “Shopping, Amber, men. Things like that.”

In a reflexive movement, Gabe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What about men?”

“Nothing in particular. Just fun stuff. It was a first for me. I hadn’t realized how enjoyable that could be, chatting and laughing with other women. I’ve never quite fit in like that before, but they’re so nice and accepting. I like your sisters-in-law.”

Gabe stopped for a red light and turned to face her. “I like them, too. A lot.” He tilted his head, studying her, and there was something in his eyes, some vague shadow of consideration. “C’mere, Lizzy.”

Oh, the way he said that. It was so much more than an invitation to close the space between them. The heat in his eyes made it more. The low growl of his voice made it more. She looked at the seat where Gabe’s large hand rested. Warming inside, she scooted over as much as her seat belt would allow. It was close enough to feel his heat, his energy, to breathe in his wonderfully musky male scent.

Last night she had imagined burying her nose against his neck, drinking him in and tasting his hot skin with her tongue…. She gulped a large breath of air and tried to get control of herself. She was turning into a nymphomaniac!

Immediately, Gabe’s rough palm settled on her thigh in a possessive hold that thrilled her.

“How’s your sunburn today?” he murmured, gently caressing her.

Staring at his dark hand on her leg, she shrugged. “Much better. It was a little tender this morning, but now I hardly notice it at all.”

He slipped his fingers beneath the skirt of her dress and began tracing slow, easy circles on her flesh. Her breathing deepened. “And this? Does this hurt you, Lizzy?”

She shook her head, too startled, too excited to speak.

The light turned green and Gabe pulled away. He used one hand to steer while his gentle fingers continued to pet her bare skin. “Tell me what other firsts we’re talking about.”

His warm touch was hypnotic and she found her legs parting just a bit so his searching fingers could drift lazily up the sensitive inside of her knee. “Swimming in a lake.”

“Oh, yeah.” He flashed her a grin. “Think you might want to be daring and try it again sometime?”

This must be old hat to him, Elizabeth thought, as he easily maneuvered the car one-handed while deliberately arousing her with the other. He was such a rogue.

“Yes.” She’d try anything Gabe wanted her to. She trusted him.

“Any other firsts?”

“Well, there’s…this.” She indicated his hand beneath her skirt, slowly inching higher. She sucked in air and concentrated on speaking coherently. “The kissing and touching and the way you…talk to me.”

He glanced at her and she said, “I love the way you talk to me, Gabe. No man has ever spoken so intimately with me, much less said the kinds of things you say.”

“You’ve known a lot of fools, sweetheart.”

Her smile trembled. “There, you see? And all this business with first base and drive-in movies. I feel like I’m just starting to really see the world.”

Gabe squeezed his eyes closed for a heartbeat, and she added, “You’re also by far the most unique hero I’ve interviewed, so I suppose that’s a first, as well.”

How in the world she’d managed to string so many words together, she had no idea. Her thoughts felt jumbled, her nerve endings raw. Leaning slightly toward him, she touched his shoulder. “Gabe, can I ask you something?”

Twilight was settling in on the small town, making it almost dark enough to hide what they did with each other. Elizabeth smoothed her hand over his shoulder, then down to squeeze his biceps. She soaked in the feel of the soft cotton T-shirt over solid muscle. Gabe felt so good.

He worked his jaw. “You can ask me anything, babe.”

Hesitantly, she explained, “It’s sort of a request.”

His hand left her as he pulled into a gravel lot behind several other cars, waiting to pay at the drive-in entrance. Elizabeth looked around in wonder. People milled about everywhere, some walking to a concrete-block building that she assumed housed the cameras and perhaps a concession stand. Others leaned in car windows talking to neighbors. Some were sitting outside their cars or trucks or vans, watching the sky darken and the stars appear. The screen was huge, situated in front of row after row of metal poles holding speakers. It fascinated her.

“Ask away.”

“Oh.” Turning to Gabe, she bit her bottom lip, then because she was unable to look at him and ask her question, she gave her attention to the surrounding lot. “Would it be okay if I touched you, too? I mean, like with first base and second base? Touching you last night…that was another first. I had no idea a man felt so…contradictory.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed hard. He adjusted his jeans, slouched behind the wheel a bit more and closed his eyes. “Contradictory, how?”

Elizabeth knew her face was flaming. Actually, her whole body was flaming. In a rough, strangled whisper, she said, “Soft in some places, so hard in others. Sleek and alive. I’d…I’d like to feel your chest, under your shirt, and I’d like to feel you…there, inside your jeans.”

Gabe groaned, then laughed. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel for one second, then swiveled to snare her with his gaze. “Are you absolutely sure you want to see a movie?”

Not quite understanding, Elizabeth glanced at the billboard announcing which titles would be playing tonight. The first movie was Tonya’s Revenge. Probably an action movie, she decided—not her favorite. But while it didn’t sound exactly scintillating, she was very curious. “I’d like to see at least a bit of it, since this is another first for me. Why?”

Gabe hesitated to answer as he pulled up to the small cashier’s window and handed over a couple of bills. The attendant, evidently someone Gabe knew based on his greeting and his curiosity as he speared a flashlight into the car to check out Elizabeth, winked and handed Gabe his change. “Enjoy the movie,” he said with a wide grin. Gabe answered with a muttered oath.

Elizabeth looked around as Gabe parked the car toward the back of the lot. Already people had set up lawn chairs and blankets or turned their trucks around to relax in the truck beds. Gabe moved as far away from the others as he could.

“You don’t want to stay, do you?” Elizabeth didn’t want to force him into something he was reluctant to do.

Gabe’s frown became more pronounced. “I’m having second thoughts, that’s all.”

Her stomach pitched in very real dread. “Second thoughts? You mean you don’t want to—”

In a sudden move, Gabe grabbed her by the back of the neck and hauled her close, then treated her to a hot, deep, tongue-licking kiss that left her shaken. With his mouth still touching hers, he said, “I want,” he assured her in a low growl. “But I’d rather be back at your apartment where I could get you naked and feast on you in private.”

Elizabeth could barely get her heavy eyelids to open. Her heart felt ready to burst, her skin too tight, her breasts and belly too sensitive. Breathless, she asked, “And you’d let me touch you, too?”

“Hell, yeah.” He kissed her again, short and sweet. “But I don’t want you to miss any firsts here, sugar. And every American woman should experience the drive-in at least once. Better late than never, I suppose.”

Elizabeth nuzzled his warm throat, just as she’d imagined doing. She luxuriated in his exotic, enticing scent. What would it be like to have that scent surrounding her all night long? Trying to follow the conversation, she asked, “Because the movies are good?”

Gabe grinned, but it was a carnal grin, filled with determination and sultry heat. “No, baby.” He held her a little closer, his hand splayed on the small of her back. “It’s because getting groped at the drive-in is practically a tradition. You can’t really be at the movies without doing at least a little petting. The lights are dim, the movie’s boring and all that body heat builds up. It’s just natural to get a little frisky.”

Elizabeth considered that, then slowly slid both hands up Gabe’s chest to his shoulders, then around his neck. “How about if I want to do a lot of petting?”

“Then I’ll maybe last through half a movie. Maybe.” He cradled her head between his hands and rubbed her cheekbones with his thumbs. “But I’m not making any promises, sweetheart, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

SHE WAS DRIVING him crazy. Lizzy’s sweet, hot mouth opened on his throat and she made a nearly incoherent sound of discovery and excitement. “You taste so good, Gabe. Do you taste the same all over?”

Feeling her soft lips move against his skin, he tightened painfully from toes to scalp. He wanted to let her explore, to take her time and experience everything, but he wasn’t sure he’d live through it. “You can find out later,” he murmured, and just saying the words almost sent him off the deep end while images of her mouth on his abdomen, his thighs, in between, fired him. He groaned.

She leaned back slightly and looked at the movie. “What?”

There was a breathless excitement to her tone as she anticipated another love scene on the big screen. He’d had no idea Lizzy would be so receptive to the somewhat cheesy, low-grade erotic film that was playing. Watching her while she watched the movie, he wedged his palm beneath her breast and felt the frantic racing of her heartbeat.

She amused him. And fascinated him. Grinning, he teased, “Lizzy. I’m surprised you can even see the movie the way we’ve steamed up the windows.”

Her smile was pleased and filled with feminine power. “I’d read about fogging windows in books before, but I thought it was an exaggeration.”

Forget amusement. Her naïveté made him rock hard with lust and soft as butter with affection. Bringing her mouth to his, he said against her lips, “Just looking at you is enough to steam the place up,” then proceeded to thoroughly feast on her mouth. He’d never tire of her taste, her warmth. The small, sexy sounds she made when he gave her his tongue, or when he coaxed her tongue into his mouth.

She grew quickly impatient with kissing and started tugging on his T-shirt, untucking it from his jeans.

Gabe, always willing to oblige, set her a bit away from him and pulled it over his head. Within a heartbeat she was back, her eyes luminous in the dark interior of the car, her small hands eagerly sliding over his hot skin. Whether on purpose or not, he didn’t know, her thumbs brushed over his nipples and he jerked. She stared, wide-eyed, at his reaction, made a sound of discovery and deliberately delved her hands into the hair on his chest again.

“Sweet mercy…” Gabe groaned, knotting his hands against the seat and dredging up thoughts of work, of the lake, anything to try to regain some measure of control.

Then her mouth touched his right nipple and he felt her gentle, moist breath, the tentative flick of her small pink tongue…and he was gone.

“Sorry,” he rasped. “I can’t take it.” He saw the disappointment in her gaze and choked on a strangled breath. Holding her slim shoulders to keep her at bay, he said, “Not here, sweetheart. It’s just too much. You’re too much. I don’t understand it, but…”

She didn’t look convinced, so he caught her hand and carried it to his erection, then hissed a painful breath as the contact made his entire body clench.

“You see what you’re doing to me?” he asked. He knew his voice was harsh, guttural, knew he’d started to sweat and that his hands were shaking. “It’s insane. I’ve made out in this drive-in hundreds of times, but I’ve never been this close to losing all reason.”

“Really?”

He blinked at her look of wonder, minutely regaining his wits. She honestly had no idea of her appeal or her effect on the male species. “Yeah. I’m sorry, babe, but it’s the truth.” For the first time in his life, his salacious past embarrassed him a bit. Lizzy was so innocent, so pure, that he felt like a total scoundrel. “My mother should have locked me up or something,” he muttered, his long fingers still encircling her wrist, holding her hand immobile against him. “Sawyer told her to often enough. Morgan even tried it a few times. But I was always more wild than not and I was determined to get my fill and…”

He trailed off as he realized how fascinated she was, soaking up his every absurd word. Good God, he hoped she didn’t put any of that in her damn thesis!

Shaking her gently, he added, “Lizzy, listen to me. There’s something about you….”

She tilted her head at him in a measure of pity. “What? My freckles? Come on, Gabe. I’ve never heard of freckles inspiring lust. Or red hair that’s too curly. Or…”

Gabe curved his hand around one lush breast. He could feel the warmth and softness of her, the incredible firmness of virgin flesh. “How about a body made for a man?” he growled. “Or a smile that’s so sweet I feel it inside my pants.”

She gasped.

“Or skin so soft it makes me crazy wanting to feel it all over my body. Or the way you talk, the things you talk about, your innocence and your daring and your—”

She pressed her fingers over his mouth, her eyes squeezed shut. He parted his lips and ran the tip of his tongue down the seam of her middle and ring finger, probing lightly. She snatched her hand away and panted.

“I want you, Lizzy.”

Her eyes opened slowly and they glowed. “I want you, too.” She gulped in air, then added, “Just for the summer, for this one time in my life, I want to experience everything I’ve never felt before. When I go back to school and my old life-style and my plans, when I start my formal training, I want it to be with new knowledge. I don’t want to be inexperienced anymore. I want to loosen up, as you suggested.”

Gabe took her words like an iron punch on the chin. Just for the summer, just for the summer…

Damn her, no! He wouldn’t give up that easy. But he also didn’t want to scare her off. He’d give her everything she asked for and more. He’d drown her in pleasure so intense she’d get addicted. She wouldn’t be able to do without him. He’d tie her so closely to him she wouldn’t even be able to think about walking away from him.

He had no idea what the murky future held, but for the first time in his life he was anxious about it. A year from now? Who the hell knew? Lasting romantic relationships weren’t his forté, but he’d seen his two oldest brothers work it out, and that was nothing short of a miracle. One thing he was certain about: a month from now he’d still be wanting her, today, tomorrow…maybe indefinitely. He wanted, he needed, a chance to see what was happening between them.

Gabe reached to the floor of the car and picked up the box of popcorn they’d bought earlier. He put it in her lap. “Hold onto that.”

“Gabe?”

He didn’t look at her again as he stuck the speaker out the window and hooked it into place on its stand. A lot of people would recognize his car, and they’d know he was leaving early. They’d probably even deduce why. For Lizzy’s sake, he hated that, but couldn’t think of an alternative. It would be worse if he ended up doing things with her here that he knew damn good and well should be done in private. And his control was too strained. Already he wanted her so bad he felt sweat forming on his naked back and at his temples, though the night had cooled off and was comfortable.

Even without the speaker in the car, he heard the on-screen moaning and looked up. Tanya’s Revenge wasn’t much in the way of evil intent. Gabe figured she planned to physically, sexually wear out her adversary, then gain her revenge—whatever it might be. Lizzy was spellbound. She’d watched every sex scene with single-minded intent.

His heart pounded in his chest as he considered doing all those things to her, and how she would react. “Put your seat belt back on.”

Without tearing her gaze from the screen, she obeyed. His car started with a low purr and then they were maneuvering out of the lot. Once the screen was no longer in view, Lizzy turned toward him. He could feel her curiosity, could almost hear her mind working, thinking about what she’d watched and wondering if they’d do things like that together.

“Damn right we will,” Gabe said, answering her silent question. Lizzy fanned herself, but otherwise held quiet. They reached her place in record time. In one minute flat they were inside with the door locked and Gabe had her pressed to the wall, giving his hands and his mouth free rein.

ELIZABETH held her breath as Gabe’s right hand stroked down her side, over her waist, her hip, then to the back of her knee. He pulled her leg upward so that she was practically circling his hips—then he thrust gently.

A moan escaped her. She could feel the fullness and hard length of his erection through his jeans as he deliberately rocked against her in a parody of sex. His mouth, open and damp, moved over her cheek to her arched throat. “I want to be inside you right now, babe. I need to be inside you.”

“My…my bedroom,” she muttered, nearly incoherent, more than ready to accommodate him. But Gabe shook his head.

“You have to do some catching up. I want you to be as hot as I am.”

She tried to tell him that she already was, but then his mouth covered hers and his tongue licked past her lips and she could barely think, much less speak.

His hand, rough and incredibly hot, smoothed over her bare thigh to her panties. Elizabeth couldn’t stop her instinctive reaction to his hand on her bottom, exploring, first palming one round cheek then gliding inward to touch her in the most intimate spot imaginable.

“Easy,” he whispered against her mouth. “Damn, you’re wet. You do want me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes…” She felt like she was falling, though her back was flat against the wall with Gabe’s hard torso pinning her in place.

“Let’s get these out of the way.” He released her leg and hooked both hands into the waistband of her panties beneath her skirt. It felt naughty and exciting and achingly sexual the way he went to one knee in front of her to strip off her underclothes. “Step out of them,” he instructed.

Like a sleepwalker, Elizabeth lifted first one foot and then the other. Her sandals were still in place, but Gabe had no problem tugging her panties off around them. She waited for him to stand, but he didn’t, and she looked down.

His face was flushed, his eyes burning hot as he kneaded the backs of her thighs. He looked at her and didn’t smile. Instead he leaned forward and kissed her through her cotton dress, making her suck in a startled, choking breath. Her hands automatically sought his head and her fingers threaded into his cool blond hair.

“Gabe?”

“You smell good,” he said, nuzzling into her. Her knees threatened to give out, but his palms moved to cuddle her naked backside, keeping her upright. “So good.”

“I…I can’t do this.” Even as she said it, her hands clenched in his hair, directing his attentions to a spot that pulsed with need. His mouth opened and his breath was incredibly hot, almost unbearable. She felt the damp press of his tongue through her clothes and she cried out.

Gabe shot to his feet in front of her and took her mouth in a voracious kiss meant to consume her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t react, couldn’t think. She felt wild, this time lifting her leg to wrap around him without instruction. Both his hands covered her breasts, squeezing a bit roughly, but she loved it, loved him and the way he made her feel.

He started on the buttons of her dress and had them all free within seconds. The bodice opened just wide enough for him to tug it down her shoulders and beneath her breasts. The dress framed her, caught at her elbows and pinning her arms to her sides. “Gabe?” She struggled, wanting to touch him, too.

The dress pulled taut and forced her straining breasts higher. Her nipples were stiff, pointed, and with a low growl Gabe bent and sucked one deep into the heat of his mouth, his rough tongue rasping over her, his teeth holding her captive for the assault.

She screamed. Her body arched hard against his. Gabe switched to the other nipple and his hands went under her skirt, one lifting her thigh, the other cupping over her belly then delving into her moist curls. She knew she was wet, could feel the pulsing of her body. His fingers were both a relief and a torture as he moved them over her hot flesh, stroking, then parting slick, swollen folds.

She pressed her head against the wall, feeling a strange tension begin to invade her body.

“We’ll go easy,” he promised, but the words were so low, so rough, she could barely understand them. “Right here, sweetheart,” he murmured, and she felt a lightning stroke of sensation as one fingertip deliberately plied her swollen clitoris. Gasping, she tried to pull away because the sensation was too acute, but there was no place for her to go.

“Don’t fight me,” he whispered around her wet nipple, licking lazily. “Trust me, Lizzy.”

She couldn’t. The feelings were coming too fast, too strong. Her muscles ached and tightened, then tightened some more. Her vision blurred as heat washed over her in waves. She tried to tell him it was too much, but her words didn’t make any sense and he ignored them anyway, listening more to her body than what she had to say. His fingertip felt both rough and gentle as he continued to pet her, concentrating patiently on that one ultrasensitive spot, driving her insane.

Her climax took her by surprise, stealing her breath, making it impossible to do more than moan in low gasping pants, going on and on…. Her body bowed, but Gabe held her securely, not stopping his touch, pushing her and pushing her. He moaned, too, the sound a small vibration around her nipple as he sucked strongly at her. His left forearm slipped beneath her buttocks, keeping her on her feet as her knees weakened, forcing her to feel everything he wanted her to feel.

When finally she slumped against him, spent and exhausted, his hold gentled, loosened. She was no longer crushed against his body, but remained in his embrace, gently rocking. His palm cupped her, holding in the heat, and he said, “I can still feel you pulsing.”

Embarrassment tried to ebb into her consciousness, but Gabe didn’t give it a chance to take hold. He kissed each breast, her throat, her chin. Putting his forehead to hers, their noses touching, he whispered, “That was incredible, Lizzy.”

If she’d had the strength she would have laughed. Gabe was a master of understatement. Slowly she opened her eyes and was seared by the heat in his. While she watched, he removed his palm from her and raised his hand to her face. His gaze dropped to her mouth and with one wet fingertip, he traced her lips.

She sucked in a startled breath, but couldn’t think of a thing to say. Still watching her, Gabe slowly licked her upper lip, then pulled her bottom lip through his teeth to suck gently. “You taste as sweet as I knew you would.”

She couldn’t move. Her eyes opened owlishly. Good grief, she’d never been in this situation before, never even imagined such a thing! He hadn’t shared intercourse with her, but she supposed this was one form of lovemaking. Only…against her front door? With her panties off and his clothes still on and his magical fingers…

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked while smoothing her hair from her face.

“I…” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say.”

“How about, ‘Gabe I want you.’” His gaze moved over her face in loving detail, his fingers gentle on her temple. She noticed his hands shook.

“Gabe, I want you.”

The smile she’d already fallen in love with lighted his face. “Thank the lord. I haven’t come in my pants since I was a teenager, but it was a close thing, babe. A very close thing.”

“Oh.” The things he said, and how he said them, never ceased to stupefy her. She was still considering the image he’d evoked with his words when Gabe scooped her up in his arms and started across the floor. She held on tight, charmed by the gallantry. This was another thing, like fogged windows, that she thought only happened in books.

“Sunburn okay?” he asked. He wasn’t even straining to hold her weight.

She sighed, totally enamored of his strength. “What sunburn?”

Gabe laughed, a sound filled with masculine satisfaction and triumph—wholly male, hotly sexual. Rather than put her on the bed, he stood her beside it, and with no fanfare at all, caught the hem of her dress and whisked it over her head. Her arms caught in the sleeves for just a moment, making her feel awkward, but Gabe wasn’t deterred. He freed her easily, then stepped back to look at her.

She still wore her sandals, was her first thought. Second was that the way he looked at her was almost tactile, like a stroke across her belly, penetrating deep to where the need rekindled and came alive once again.

Without a word Gabe kicked off his shoes as he surveyed her body. He unbuttoned his jeans, slid down the zipper and shucked both his jeans and his shorts. Lizzy was given time to look all she pleased—which was a lot. Gabe stood still for her, except to reach out with his right arm and stroke her nipples with a knuckle.

He swallowed at her continued scrutiny. “Put me out of my misery, Red. Please.”

His hips were narrow in contrast to his wide chest. His abdomen was hard and flat, his navel a shallow dent surrounded by golden brown hair that felt soft to the touch. His shoulders were straight, his legs long and strong and covered in hair. His groin…She gulped, then reached out to encircle him with her hand and squeezed. So hard and so strong, his erection flexed and he made a small strangled sound. His hands fisted; his knees locked. One glistening drop of fluid appeared on the tip, fascinating her. She spread it around with her thumb, and heard his hissing breath.

“You’re playing with fire, babe.”

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed, then started slightly when he growled and reached for her.

“Come here, Elizabeth. Let me hold you.”

But as she stepped up to him he stepped forward and carried her down to the bed. Balanced on one elbow above her, he began exploring her body again.

“I love all these sexy little freckles.” He traced around her breasts, skimming just below her puckered nipples, then trailed down her abdomen to her belly button. He dipped his baby fingertip there before moving over her hipbones and her upper thighs. His hand cupped her between her thighs and she groaned, knowing exactly how he could make her feel. “And this fiery red hair,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Elizabeth squirmed as he parted her, as one long finger pushed deeply into her.

His gaze met hers. “Does that hurt?” he asked huskily.

She shook her head. “No, please, Gabe.” She spread both hands over his chest, reveling in the heat of his skin, the way his heart galloped. She loved touching his nipples and hearing his breath hitch.

“Open your legs more, Lizzy. That’s it. Another finger, okay? I want to make sure you’re ready, that I won’t hurt you.”

His words didn’t make much sense to her, though she tried to listen closely. She was attuned to his scent, his touch, the warmth of his big body. She turned her face toward him to watch as her hands glided over him.

“I can’t wait anymore,” he growled.

Good, she thought, already so tense she ached. If she hadn’t been so unused to the intimacy, she’d have demanded he get on with it, but she wasn’t quite that daring yet. All she could do was try to urge him to haste with her touch.

Gabe reached for his discarded jeans and removed a condom. Curious, Lizzy stroked his body as he slipped it on, letting her palm cup him beneath his erection, where he was heavy and warm and soft. His eyes nearly closed as he groaned, and then he was over her, his entire big body shaking as he forced her legs wide and opened her with gentle fingers.

“Lizzy, look at me.”

She did, snared by his beauty, by the savage hunger in his hot blue eyes. He took her in one long slow thrust and she cried out, not in pain but in incredible pleasure. Her hips lifted of their own accord, trying to make the contact as complete as possible.

Gabe slid both hands beneath her bottom and lifted her, pushing deep, retreating, pushing in again, causing the most incredible friction. “Put your legs around me, sweetheart.”

She did, crossing her ankles at the small of his back, squeezing him tight. His hairy chest crushed her breasts, and she tried to rub them against him, tried to feel as much of him as she could. The sensation of him being inside her, her tender flesh stretched tight around him, was almost unbearable. The explosive feelings began building again and she struggled toward them, her head tipped back, her eyes squeezed closed.

But then Gabe cursed and paused for one throbbing heartbeat. With another muttered oath he lowered himself to her completely, opened his mouth on her throat and began thrusting hard and fast, his groan building, his body rock hard and vibrating, and Lizzy held him, enthralled as he came. She forgot her own needs, satisfied to smooth her hands over his damp back, through his silky soft hair and straining shoulders.

Gabe relaxed against her, breathing deep, his arms keeping her close, her legs still around him. After several minutes he muttered against her throat, “Sorry.”

Lizzy kissed his shoulder. “For what?”

“For leaving you.” He leaned up and looked at her and there was a deeply sated expression to his eyes, a tenderness that went bone deep. “I’ll make it up to you in just a little bit.”

Elizabeth smiled and touched his face. “I’m fine.”

“I want you better than fine,” he said, and he kissed her, a long, slow, leisurely kiss. He didn’t seem in any hurry to stop kissing her. After a while he sat up to remove the condom—another first for her! Without much talking he carried her into the bathroom where they both soaked in a cool tub. Gabe made her wild with the way he bathed her, stroked her, teased her. After that, he seemed insatiable.

She could barely keep her eyes open after two more climaxes and a lot of new firsts, but when he settled into the bed with her, she found the foresight to ask, “Are you staying all night?”

“Yes.” He pulled her to his side and pressed her head to his shoulder.

His assumption that he was welcome amused her, but then, she wanted him to stay. “Shouldn’t you tell someone where you are so they won’t worry?”

“I’m twenty-seven years old, sweetheart. I don’t have to account for myself to my brothers.”

“What about Honey? Will she worry?”

He went still, then cursed softly. “Don’t move.” He padded naked from the bed into the kitchen where her only phone hung on the wall. After a few seconds she heard him say, “I won’t be home tonight.”

There was a pause. “Yeah, well, I thought Honey might—” He laughed. “That’s what I figured. See ya tomorrow.”

He came back to bed and settled himself. “You were right. Sawyer said she would have worried.” He kissed her forehead and within seconds he was breathing deeply.

Elizabeth stroked his chest, wondering how often he spent the night with women, if this meant anything to him at all, if she had the right to hope he’d stay with her whenever possible.

It was a long time before she, too, dozed off. But thinking of Gabe and how strong and independent and capable he was only served to slant her dreams with miserable comparisons of all the things he was, and all the things she wasn’t.

And sometime in the middle of the night, the nightmares returned.

GABE WAS generally a sound sleeper, but then, contrary to popular belief, he seldom had a very sexy, very warm woman cuddled up to his side when he slept. Because he lived with his brothers, and because his nephew, Casey, was there, he hadn’t made a habit of flaunting his social life. Having Lizzy at his side was a unique and pleasant experience.

And while he’d had no problem sleeping, he was never at any moment unaware of her curled against him.

When her skin grew warmer and her breathing deeper, he stirred. She mumbled something in her sleep and he turned his head to look at her, making a soft, soothing sound. Her hand suddenly fisted against his chest, and her head twisted from side to side.

Frowning, Gabe came up on one elbow. “Lizzy?” She didn’t answer him. He touched her cheek and felt it wet with tears. His heart pounded. “Hey, come on, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

In the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains, he could barely make out her features. He saw her mouth move, crying soundlessly, then heard a small whimper, and another, each gaining in volume.

“Lizzy?” Gabe held her closer and stroked her hair. “You’re dreaming, sweetheart. Wake up.” He made his voice deliberately commanding, unable to bear her unconscious distress.

Suddenly her body went rigid as if she’d just suffered a crushing physical pain. She screamed, harsh, tearing sounds that echoed around the silent bedroom. Her arms flailed wildly and she hit him in the chest, fighting against him, against herself. Gabe pinned her arms down and rolled her beneath him.

“Wake up, Lizzy!”

Sobbing softly, she opened her eyes and stared at him. For one instant she looked lost and confused, her eyes shadowed, then she crumbled. Gabe turned to his side and held her face to his throat. “It’s all right. It’s all right, sweetheart.”

She clutched him, and his heart broke at her racking cries. Gabe felt his eyes get misty and crushed her even closer, wanting to absorb her pain, to somehow be a part of her so he could carry some of her emotional burden.

Long minutes passed before she finally quieted, only suffering the occasional hiccup or sniff. Gabe kissed her temple, then eased her away from him. He kept the lights off and said, “Don’t move, baby. I’m going to go get you a cool cloth.”

He was in and out of her bathroom in fifteen seconds. When he walked in, Lizzy was propped up in the bed blowing her nose. She had her knees drawn up to her chest, the sheet wrapped around her. The first thing she said was, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t make me turn you over my knee when you’re already upset.” Gabe scooted into bed beside her and manfully ignored the way she tried to inch away from him. He caught her chin and turned her face, then gently stroked her with the damp washcloth. “You have no reason to be sorry, Lizzy. Everyone has bad dreams every now and again.”

A long silence threatened to break him and then she muttered, “It wasn’t a dream.”

Gabe propped his back against the headboard and handed the washcloth to Lizzy. She pressed it over her swollen eyes. Utilizing every ounce of patience he possessed, Gabe waited.

Finally she said, “I’m a little embarrassed.”

“Please don’t be.” He kept his voice soft but firm. “I’m so glad I was here with you.” His arm slipped around her shoulders and she didn’t fight him as he pulled her close. “I care about you, Lizzy. Will you believe that?”

She nodded, but said, “I don’t know.”

Rubbing his hand up and down her bare arm, he asked, “Is it so strange for someone to care about you, sweetheart?”

“Someone like you, yes.”

“What about someone not like me?”

She went still. “There’s…things about me you don’t know.”

Gabe tightened his hold, anticipating her reaction. “You mean the awful way your mother died?”

As he’d predicted, she jerked and almost got away from him. “What do you know about that?”

“I read the articles you saved.”

“How dare you!” She struggled against him, but Gabe held her tight.

“Quit fighting me, honey. I’m not letting you go.” Probably not ever. It was several seconds before she went rigid against him. Gabe could feel her hurt, her anger. But he wanted to get past it, and the only way he saw to do that was to force his way. He spread his fingers across the back of her head and kept her pressed to his shoulder. “That’s why you’re so all-fired determined to understand this nonsense about heroism, right?”

She shuddered, and another choking sob escaped her before she caught herself. “You…you can’t understand. You aren’t like me. You saw a way to help and you instinctively acted. I…I let my mother die.” Her hands curled into his shoulders, her nails biting, but Gabe would have gladly accepted any pain to help her. “Oh, God. I let her die.”

Unable to bear it, Gabe pressed his face into her neck and rocked her while she continued talking.

“We were in a car wreck. I…I was changing the radio station trying to find a song Mom and I could sing to. We did that all the time, playing around, just having fun. It was raining and dark. Mom told me to turn the radio down, and I started to, but then a semi came around the corner and Mom had to swerve…”

Her voice had an eerie, faraway quality to it. Gabe wondered how many times, and to how many people, she’d given this guilty admission. The thought of her as a twelve-year-old child, awkward and shy, suffering what no child should ever suffer, made him desperate with the need to fix things that were years too distant to repair.

“The car went off the road and hit a tree. Mom’s door was smashed shut, the windshield broken. She was…bleeding. I thought she was dead and I just screamed and got out of the car and crouched down on the gravel and the mud, waiting and numb. Too stupid to do what I should have done.”

“Oh, Lizzy.” Gabe kissed her temple, her ear. He murmured inanities, but she didn’t seem to hear him.

“The nearest telephone was only two miles away. If…if I’d gone for help…she’d have lived if only I hadn’t frozen, if I hadn’t become a useless lump crying and waiting to be helped when I was barely hurt.” Her hand fisted and thumped once, hard, against his shoulder. “She was pinned in that damn car unconscious and bleeding to death and I just let her die.” Sobbing again, her tears soaking his neck, she whispered, “By the time another car came by and found us…it was too late.”

Keeping her in the iron grip of his embrace, Gabe reached for the lamp and turned the switch. Lizzy flinched away from the harshness of it, but Gabe was so suffused with pity, with pain and mostly with anger, he refused to let her hide. Her ravaged face was a fist around his heart, but he never wavered in his determination. Forcing her to meet his gaze, he said, “You were twelve goddamned years old! You were a child. How in the hell can you compare what a child does to a grown man?”

She looked stunned by his outrage. “I was useless.”

“You were in shock!”

“If I’d reacted…”

“No, Lizzy. There is no going back, no starting over. All any of us can do is make the most of each day. You’re such an intelligent woman, so giving and sincere, why can’t you see that you were an innocent that day?”

“You…you said you read the articles.”

“And I also know how the damn media can slant things deliberately to get the best story. One more human death means little enough to them when people pass away every day, some in more horrific circumstances than others. But a human-interest story on a young traumatized girl, well, now, that’s newsworthy. You were a pawn, sweetheart, a sacrifice to a headliner. That’s all there is to it.”

“I let her die,” she said, but she sounded vaguely uncertain, almost desperate to believe him.

“No.” Gabe pulled her close and kissed her hard. “You don’t know that. It was dark, it was raining. Even if, through the trauma of seeing your mother badly injured, you’d been able to run to the nearest phone, there’s no guarantee that you’d have gotten there safely, that you’d have found help and they’d have made it to her in time.”

She searched his face, then reached for another tissue. After mopping her eyes and blowing her nose, she admitted in a raw whisper, “My dad has said that. But I’d hear him crying at night, and I’d see how wounded he looked without my mother.”

Gabe cupped her tear-streaked cheeks, fighting his own emotions. “He still had you.” He wobbled her head, trying to get through to her, trying to reach her. “I know he had to be grateful for that.”

Her smile trembled and she gave an inelegant sniff. “Yes. He said he was. My father is wonderful.”

Relief filled him that at least her father hadn’t blamed her. The man had obviously been overwrought with grief. Gabe couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d react if something happened to Lizzy. If he ever lost her, he’d—Gabe froze, struck by the enormity of his thoughts. He loved Lizzy! It didn’t require rhyme or reason. It didn’t require a long courtship or special circumstances. He knew her, and she was so special, how could he not love her?

He touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb, already feeling his body tense with arousal and new awareness. “You’re a wonderful person, sweetheart, so you deserve a wonderful dad.”

Her eyes were red-rimmed, matching her nose, and her lips were puffy, her skin blotchy. Gabe thought she was possibly the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. The sheet slipped a bit, and he looked at her lush breasts, the faint sprinkling of freckles and the tantalizing peak of one soft nipple.

He tamped down his hunger and struggled to direct all his attention to her distress. “Will you believe me that you weren’t to blame, Lizzy?”

She bit her lip, then sighed. “I’ll believe you don’t blame me. But facts are facts. Some people possess heroic tendencies, and some people are ineffectual. I’m afraid I fall into the latter category.”

Gabe caught her hips and pulled her down so she lay flat in the bed. He whisked the sheet away. “Few people,” he said, while eyeing her luscious body, “are ever given the opportunity to really know if they’re heroic or not.” He placed his palm gently on her soft white belly. “Personally, I don’t think you can judge yourself by what a frightened, shy, injured twelve-year-old did.”

She stared at his mouth, firing his lust. “That’s…that’s why I’m studying this so hard. I want to help other adolescents to understand their own limitations, to know that they can’t be completely blamed for qualities they don’t possess. We’re all individuals.”

“And you don’t want any other child to hurt as you’ve hurt?”

Her beautiful eyes filled with tears again. “Yes.”

“I love you, Lizzy.”

Her eyes widened and she stared. Stock-still, she did no more than watch him with wary disbelief. Gabe had to laugh at himself. He hadn’t quite meant to blurt that out, and he felt a tad foolish.

Elizabeth was everything he wasn’t. Serious, studious, caring and concerned. She had a purpose for her life, while he’d always been content to idle away his time, shirking responsibilities, refusing to settle down, priding himself on his freedom. She was at the top of her class, while he’d gone from one minor to another, never quite deciding on any one thing he wanted to do in his life. His time in college had been more a lark than anything else; he’d gone because it was expected. He’d gotten good grades because his pride demanded nothing less, but it had been easy and had never meant anything to him.

Lizzy would never consider letting someone like him interrupt her plans. She was goal-oriented, while he was out for fun. She’d told him that she wanted the summer with him, but she’d never even hinted that she might want more than that.

Trying to make light of his declaration—though he refused to take it back—he said, “Don’t worry. I won’t start writing you poetry or begging you to elope.”

She blinked and her face colored, which added to her already blotchy cheeks and red nose, giving her a comical look. Gabe forced a grin and kissed her forehead. Damn, but he loved her. He felt ready to burst with it.

“Have I rendered you speechless, sweetheart?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes.” Then: “Gabe, did you mean it?”

“Absolutely.” He cupped her breast and idly flicked her soft nipple with his thumb until it stiffened. “How could I not love you, Lizzy? I’ve never known anyone like you. You make me laugh and you make me hot and you confuse my brain and my heart.”

She scrunched up her mouth, trying not to laugh. “How…romantic.”

Gabe shifted, settling himself between her long slender thighs. “I’m horny as hell,” he admitted in a growl, letting her feel the hardness of his body. “How romantic did you expect me to be?”

She looped both arms around his neck and smiled. “Thank you, Gabe.”

“For what?”

“For making me feel so much better.” Her fingers caressed his nape, and she wound her legs around him, holding him, welcoming him. “For being here with me now, for saying you love me.”

He started to reassure her that he hadn’t said the words lightly, that he meant them and felt them down to his very soul. But he held back. Similar words hadn’t crossed her lips, and he needed time to get himself together, to sort out this new revelation. So all he said was, “My pleasure,” and then he kissed her, trying to show her without words that they were meant for each other whether she knew it yet or not.

He felt as if his life hung in the balance. He needed her, but he didn’t know if he could make her need him in return.

SAWYER STOOD behind him, leaving a long shadow across the planks of wood that extended over the lake. Gabe didn’t bother to turn when he asked, “You want something, Sawyer?”

“Yeah. I want to know why you’re mangling all those nails.”

Gabe looked at the third nail he’d bent trying to hammer it into the new dock extension he was building for his brother Morgan. Normally he did this kind of work without thought, his movements fluid, one nail, one blow. Over the years he’d built so many docks, for his family and for area residents, that he should have been able to do it blindfolded. But he’d hit his damn thumb twice already and he was rapidly make a mess of things.

In a fit of frustration he flung the hammer onto the shore and stomped out of the water, sloshing the mud at his feet and sending minnows swimming away. Sawyer handed him a glass of iced tea when he got close enough.

“From Honey?”

“Yeah.” Sawyer stretched with lazy contentment. “She was all set to bring it to you herself, but I figured you might not welcome her mothering right now, since you’ve been a damn bear all week.”

Gabe grunted in response, then chugged the entire glassful, feeling some of it trickle down the side of his mouth and onto his heated chest. “Thanks.”

Sawyer lowered himself to the dry grass and picked at a dandelion. He wore jeans and nothing else, and Gabe thought it was a miracle Honey had let him out of her sight. Ever since she’d announced her pregnancy three weeks ago, Sawyer had been like a buck in rutting season. When Honey was within reach, he was reaching for her, and there was a special new glow to their love. Honey wallowed in her husband’s attentions with total abandon. It was amusing—and damn annoying, because while their marriage grew visibly stronger every day, Gabe watched the time slip by, knowing Lizzy would be heading back to school soon. Three and a half weeks had passed, and he was no closer to tying her to him than he had been when he’d met her. Not once had she told him how she felt about him, yet their intimacy had grown until Gabe couldn’t keep her out of his mind. He had one week left. One lousy week.

It put him in a killing mood.

Cursing, he looked at the clouds, then decided he might as well make use of Sawyer’s visit, since it was obvious that’s what Sawyer intended by seeking him out. He looked at his oldest brother and said grimly, “I’m in love.”

Sawyer’s smile was slow and satisfied. “I figured as much. Elizabeth Parks?”

“Yeah.” Gabe rubbed the back of his neck, then sent a disgruntled glance at the half completed dock. “I might as well give up on this today. My head isn’t into it.”

“Morgan’ll understand. He’s not in a big hurry for the dock, and we’ve got plenty of room to keep the boat at the house. Besides, he suffered his own black moods before Misty put him out of his misery.”

“But that’s just it.” Gabe dropped down beside Sawyer and stretched out in the sun. The grass was warm and prickly against his back, and near his right ear, a bee buzzed. “I don’t see an end in sight for my particular brand of misery. Lizzy is going back to school. I’ve only got a few more days with her.”

“Have you told her you love her?”

“Yep. She was flattered.” Gabe made a wry face and laid one forearm over his eyes. “Can you believe that crap?”

A startled silence proved that wasn’t exactly what Sawyer had been expecting to hear. Compared to the way he and Morgan had fought the notion of falling in love, it was no wonder Sawyer was taken off guard.

“You’ve only known her a few weeks, Gabe.”

“I knew I loved her almost from the first.” He lowered his arm to stare at his brother. “It was the damnedest thing, but she introduced herself, then proceeded to crawl right in under my skin. And I like it. It’s making me nuts thinking about her going off to college again, this time with the knowledge that she’s sexy and exciting and that plenty of men will want her. She hadn’t known that before, you know. She thought she was too plain, and it’s for certain she was too quiet, too intense. But now…”

“Now you’ve corrupted her?”

Gabe couldn’t hold back his grin. “Yeah, she’s wonderfully corrupt. It’s one of the things I love most about her.”

Lizzy was the absolute best sex partner he’d ever had. Open, wild, giving and accepting. When she’d said she wanted to experience it all, she hadn’t been kidding. Gabe shivered with the memory, then suffered through Sawyer’s curious attention. No way would he share details with his brother, but then, there was no way Sawyer would expect him to.

And just as special to Gabe were the quiet times when they talked afterward. He’d shared stories about his mother with her, and in turn Lizzy had told him about her childhood before the accident. Their mothers were exact opposites, but both loving, both totally devoted to their children.

She’d cried several times while talking about her mom, but they were bittersweet tears of remembrance, not tears of regret or guilt. Gabe sincerely hoped she’d gotten over her ridiculous notion that she’d somehow held responsibility for her mother’s death. He couldn’t bear to think of her carrying that guilt on her slender shoulders.

“How much longer will she be in school?” Sawyer asked.

“Depends.” Gabe sat up and crossed his forearms over his knees, staring sightlessly at the crystal surface of the lake. The lot Morgan had chosen to build on was ideal, quiet and peaceful and scenic. But Gabe preferred the bustle of the bait shops, the boat rentals, the comings and goings of vacationers. He’d always loved summer best because it was the season filled with excitement and fun on the lake. He’d invariably hated to see it coming to an end, but never more so than now, when the end meant Lizzy would leave him.

“Depends on what?” Sawyer pressed.

“On what she decides to do. She could easily graduate this semester and be done, but knowing Lizzy she may well want to further her education. She’s so damn intelligent and so determined to learn as much as she can.”

“We have colleges closer that she could transfer to.”

“She’s never mentioned doing that.” It took him a moment to form the words, and then Gabe admitted, “I don’t want to get in her way. I don’t want to lure her into changing her plans for me, when I don’t even have any plans. I’ve spent my whole life goofing off, while Lizzy is the epitome of seriousness.” He met his oldest brother’s gaze and asked, “What right do I have to screw with her life when my own is up in the air?”

Sawyer was silent a moment, and just as Gabe started to expect a dose of sympathy, Sawyer made an obnoxious sound and shook his head. “That is the biggest bunch of melodramatic bull I’ve ever heard uttered. You don’t want to get in her way? Hell, Gabe, how can loving a woman get in her way?”

“She has plans.”

“And you don’t? Oh, that’s right. You said you’ve screwed around all your life. So then, that wasn’t you who helped Ceily rebuild after the fire at her restaurant? And it wasn’t you who worked his butt off for Rosemary when her daddy was sick and she needed help at the boat docks? I doubt there’s a body in town who you haven’t built, repaired or renovated something for.”

Gabe shrugged. “That’s just idle stuff. You know I like working with my hands, and I don’t mind helping out. But it’s not like having a real job. I can still remember how appalled Lizzy was when she first came here and found out I wasn’t employed. And rightfully so.”

“I see. So since you don’t have an office in town and a sign hanging off your door, you’re not really employed?”

Gabe frowned, not at all sure what Sawyer was getting at. “You know I’m not.”

Sawyer nodded slowly. “You know, when I first started practicing medicine, a lot of the hospital staff in the neighboring towns claimed I wasn’t legitimate. I worked out of the house so I could be near Casey, and there’s plenty of times when I don’t charge someone, or else I get paid with an apple pie and an invitation to visit. It used to steam me like you wouldn’t believe, that others would discount what I did just because I didn’t take on all the trappings.”

Gabe scowled. “It’s not at all the same thing. You’re about the best doctor around.” Then anger hit him and he asked, “Who the hell said you weren’t legitimate?”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“The hell it doesn’t. Who was it, Sawyer?”

Laughing, Sawyer clapped him on the shoulder. “Forget it. It was a long time ago and what they thought never mattered a hill of beans to me. And now I have their respect, so I guess I proved myself in the end. But the point is—”

“The point is that someone insulted you. Who was it?”

“Gabe. You’re avoiding the subject here, which is you.” Sawyer used his stern, big-brother voice, which Gabe waved away without concern. He was too old to be intimated by his oldest overachiever brother. Sawyer didn’t mind now that he had Gabe’s attention again. “The point is, you damn near make as much money as I do, just by doing the odd job and always being available and being incredibly good at what you do. If it bothers you, well, then, rent a space in town and run a few ads and—” Sawyer snapped his fingers “—you’re legitimate. An honest-
to-goodness self-employed craftsman. But don’t do it for the wrong reasons. Don’t make the assumption that it matters to Elizabeth, because she didn’t strike me as the type to be so shallow.”

“She’s not shallow!”

Just as Gabe had ignored Sawyer’s annoyance, Sawyer ignored Gabe’s. “I have a question for you.”

“You’re getting on my nerves, Sawyer.”

“Have you let Elizabeth know that you’d like things to continue past the summer? Or is she maybe buying into that awesome reputation of yours and thinking you want this just to be a summer fling?”

The rustling of big doggy feet bounding excitedly through the grass alerted Sawyer and Gabe that they were being joined, and judging by the heavy footsteps following in the wake of the dog, they knew it was Morgan and his massive but good-natured pet, Godzilla. Gabe twisted to see his second-oldest brother just as Morgan snarled, “Let me guess. Sawyer is giving you advice on your love life now, too?”

“Too?” Gabe lifted a brow, then had to struggle to keep Godzilla from knocking him over. The dog hadn’t yet realized that he was far too big for anyone’s lap. Gabe shoved fur out of his face, dodged a wet tongue and asked, “Sawyer gave you advice?”

“Hell, yes.” Then: “Godzilla, get off my brother before you smother him.” Morgan threw a stick into the lake and Godzilla, always up for a game, scrambled the length of the half-built dock and did a perfect doggy dive off the end. All three men watched, then groaned, knowing they’d get sprayed when Godzilla shook himself dry.

“That damn dog has no fear,” Morgan grumbled. Gabe made a face.

“He must get that from you.”

Morgan returned his attention to Gabe. “Sawyer fancies himself an expert on women just because Honey walks around with a vacuous smile on her face all the time.”

Sawyer’s grin was pure satisfaction. “Just because Misty prefers to give you hell instead—”

“She gives me hell because she loves getting me riled.” Morgan chuckled. “She claims I’m a wild man when I’m riled.”

Gabe muttered, “You’re always a wild man,” then had to jump out of the way when Godzilla ran to Morgan and dropped the stick at his feet. Morgan was wearing his uniform, but the shirt was unbuttoned and his hat was gone. He quickly threw the stick again, this time up the hill toward the house and dry land.

“So what’s the answer here, Gabe? Does your little redheaded wonder know you’re in this for the long haul?”

Sawyer leaned around Gabe to see Morgan. “He told her he loved her.”

Morgan raised a brow. “Is that so?”

Gabe wanted to punch them both, but instead he muttered a simple truth. “She’s never returned the sentiment.”

“Hm.” Morgan and Sawyer seemed to be putting their collective brains together on that one until Morgan’s cell phone beeped. He took it off his belt and flipped it open. “Sheriff Hudson.” He grinned, and his voice changed from official to intimate. “Hi, babe. No, I’m just trying to straighten out Gabe’s love life. Seems he’s not going to finish my dock until I do.” Morgan waited, then said, “Okay, I’ll tell him.”

To Gabe’s disgust and Sawyer’s amusement, Morgan made a kissing sound into the phone, then closed it and clipped it on his belt. “That was Misty.”

Sawyer laughed outright. “I never would have guessed.”

“Gabe, it seems your little woman is headed over to see Jordan, only Jordan told Misty he had to make a house call for an injured heifer and would be away from the office for a bit. Jordan wants you to go over and make his apologies for him.”

Sawyer looked at Gabe. “Why is Elizabeth hanging around with Jordan?”

With obvious disgruntlement in every line of his body, Gabe shoved himself to his feet. “Lizzy has some hare-brained notion that Jordan is different, somehow nicer than the rest of us.”

Morgan and Sawyer looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Gabe ignored them and snatched up his dirt-and sweat-stained T-shirt before Godzilla could step on it. Sitting on a large rock, he shoved his feet into his unlaced sneakers. His brothers were still laughing. “It’s not that funny,” he told them, then grinned when Godzilla threw himself into Morgan’s lap, his tongue hanging in doggy bliss. Morgan made a face, resigned, and rubbed the dog’s shaggy ears.

Sawyer wiped his eyes, damp from his mirth. “Elizabeth doesn’t know Jordan very well, does she?”

“If you mean, has she ever seen his temper,” Gabe asked, “the answer is no. I got the feeling she doesn’t think Jordan has a temper.”

Morgan choked, but there was admiration and pride in his voice when he said, “Jordan is so damn sly. He hides it well. Most women don’t realize that he’s only civilized on the outside.”

“As long as you don’t mess with his animals, or anyone he cares about, he keeps it together. But get him on one of his crusades…” Sawyer shook his head in wonder at the way his middle brother could handle himself when provoked.

Even Gabe grinned at that. Jordan gave the impression of a quiet peacemaker—and to some extent, he was. But when quiet tactics didn’t work, he was more than capable of resorting to what would. “He does seem to like championing the underdog, doesn’t he?”

Morgan stroked Godzilla’s wet back. “Literally.”

After yanking on his shirt, Gabe faced his brothers. He had his hands on his hips and a nervous chip on his shoulder. “I’m going to ask Elizabeth to give us a chance. I’m going to tell her how things’ll be.” He pointed an accusing finger at both of them. “But if this backfires on me, I’m coming back and kicking both your asses.”

As Gabe strode away, Sawyer yelled, “Good luck.”

Morgan muttered loud enough for Gabe to hear, “Never thought I’d see the day when Gabe would have women troubles.”

Gabe sincerely hoped today wasn’t the day, either, because he just didn’t know what he’d do without Ms. Elizabeth Parks in his life.

GABE FOUND LIZZY pacing outside the front of Jordan’s clinic. Her hands were clasped together, her expression frightened. Not knowing what had happened, Gabe left his car in a hurry and trotted toward her. Lizzy looked up, saw him and relief flooded her entire being.

She ran to him. “Gabe, something’s wrong!”

Gabe reached for her shoulders, but she pulled away and sprinted toward the clinic door. “Listen to the animals. They’re never that noisy. They’re all making a racket.”

Gabe could hear the whine of dogs, the screech of cats. He frowned. “Jordan always keeps them calm, but Jordan isn’t here.”

Lizzy put her hands to her mouth. “Something’s wrong. I just know it.”

Gabe considered her worry for only two seconds, then said, “Okay, just hang on, hon. I’m going in.”

“How?”

For an answer, Gabe picked up a rock and tapped the glass out of a window. The howling and crying became louder with the window open—and then they smelled the smoke.

“Oh, God.” Gabe jerked off his shirt, wrapped it around his hand and safely removed the broken glass. “Quickly, Lizzy. I’ll go in and unlock the door. Use the cell phone in my car to call Morgan. He’ll send people here. Hurry.”

Lizzy ran off and Gabe carefully levered himself over the windowsill. The smoke wasn’t very thick yet, but he could smell the acrid stench of burning plastic and paper. Gabe ran to the door and unlocked it, then pushed it wide open. He wasn’t really given a chance to see what was burning or why, not with so many animals calling for attention. He hefted the first big cage he came to and hauled it outside.

Lizzy was back. “Morgan’s on his way. What can I do?”

“Just pull these cages away from the house as I bring them out.”

“But there’s too many of them!”

“Just do it, Red. We don’t have time to talk about it.” Gabe didn’t know how sick the animals were, if it was safe to open the cages…He raced inside and hauled two more out. He almost tripped over Lizzy. She had a big empty cage that she was dragging over the threshold. She had to pry open the double doors before it would fit through. Gabe frowned at her. “What the hell are you doing?”

Without answering, she ran in. She opened three pens filled with cats and began carrying the cats—without the bulky cages—outside. She got several scratches for her efforts, but the empty cage she’d taken outside was quickly filled. As Gabe worked he watched her make trip after trip, occasionally repeating the process of setting up an empty cage. The animals, penned together, might hurt each other in the excitement, but they wouldn’t die.

The smoke was thicker, filling the air while frantic animal growls and cries echoed off every wall. Gabe hadn’t seen any signs of an actual fire, but then the smoke tended to mask things. He had enough trouble just breathing. As Gabe struggled to release an older German shepherd, he tripped over a pile of feed and went down. His head hit the edge of a metal cage, and he saw stars.

“Gabe!”

As if from a distance he heard Lizzy calling him, and panic engulfed him. Was she hurt? He tried to raise himself, but everything spun around him. And then she was there, her arm supporting his head. She coughed several times before she was able to say, “Gabe, you have to stand.”

Gabe could tell she was crying, and it cut him deeply. “Lizzy?”

“Please, Gabe. Please.” She tugged on him and finally he managed to get his rubbery legs to work, leaning heavily against her. Something warm ran into his right eye, and he wondered vaguely what it was before Lizzy’s insistence that he move forced him to concentrate on her demands. It was slow going, the smoke so thick he couldn’t see at all.

Then blessedly clean air filled his lungs and he dropped to the ground. Lizzy knelt over him, her soft hands touching his face. “Oh, my God. You’re bleeding.”

Gabe said, “The animals…”

Elizabeth swabbed at his face with the hem of her dress, giving him a peek at her panties as she did so. “You’ve got a nasty cut.”

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered.

She ran off but she was back within seconds. “Here, hold this against your head. Can you do that, Gabe?”

She handed him a soft pad, and he realized it was from the clinic. He pressed it hard to his head to stem the flow of blood.

“Don’t you dare move, Gabriel Kasper.” Her voice shook, thick with smoke and, he thought, perhaps emotion. “And don’t you be seriously hurt, either.” He saw her wipe tears from her face with a soot-covered hand, and he tried to smile at her, but his head was pounding painfully. “I’ll never forgive you if you’re seriously hurt.”

Before he could reassure her she was gone and a new panic settled in. Dear God, she’d gone into the clinic! Gabe summoned all his strength to stand, to fetch her and keep her safe, and then he heard the sound of approaching sirens and knew Morgan was almost there. He’d take care of things. But Gabe was needed still; he had to help her….

Morgan’s big hands settled on Gabe’s shoulders. “Don’t move, Gabe.”

“It’s just a knock on the head. Stupid cage got in my way.”

Morgan pressed him down. “Damn it, I said don’t move, you stubborn fool!” Speaking to someone else, Morgan said, “Go ahead. I’ll take care of my brother. Get the animals out.”

“Lizzy?” Already Gabe’s head was starting to clear, even as a throbbing pain settled in. The sirens were blasting, not helping one bit, keeping the animals frenzied and his head pulsing. He glared at Morgan. “Get Lizzy.”

“She’s inside?” Morgan jerked to his feet, but at that moment Lizzy stumbled through the doorway, aided by two firemen. She had a box of mewling kittens in her arms, and she was a dirty mess. “Here she comes now.”

Morgan went to her and took the box of kittens. “Sawyer was right behind me. He’ll fix Gabe up good as new.”

Gabe watched her lean against Morgan for just an instant, then she straightened and hurried to Gabe.

“Shh. It’s all right, babe. I’m okay. I just got knocked silly.” He pulled her to his side as he carefully sat up. “Morgan! Shut the damn sirens off.”

Morgan barked a few orders, and one fireman rushed to do as he was told. When silence settled in, Gabe touched Lizzy’s blackened face. “Are you all right?”

She wasn’t listening to him. She’d spotted Sawyer and she ran to him, then practically dragged him to Gabe. He had Jordan with him, and Jordan looked frozen with shock.

“What the hell happened?” As Sawyer spoke he opened his bag and began swabbing off Gabe’s face. To Lizzy he said, “Head wounds bleed like the very devil. If he’s not hurt anywhere else then he should be fine.”

Gabe took pity on Jordan. “I’m fine, Jordan. Go check your animals.”

Jordan looked at Sawyer and got his nod of confirmation. “Looks like he’ll need a few stitches, but that’s all.”

“Thank God.” Jordan, still looking somewhat sick and so furious he could chew nails, headed for the clinic door.

An hour and a half later, everything had quieted down. There was a lot of smoke damage to the clinic, but very little had burned. It hadn’t taken a large investigation to discover that a pet owner who’d come in earlier had evidently thrown a cigarette into the trash can in the bathroom. The can was metal, so other than the walls and floor in that room being singed, the damage was mostly smoke-related. It would take quite a bit of work, and a professional crew, to get everything clean again and to rid the clinic of the smell. Jordan had a strict no-smoking policy. Gabe couldn’t remember ever seeing his brother look so ravaged, or so livid.

Gabe was propped up against a tree, his head bandaged, watching the proceedings with frustration since Sawyer had flatly refused to let him help out. Lizzy had continued to work with Jordan until they had every animal accounted for and loaded into covered truck beds. Luckily, not a single animal had suffered a serious injury from the small fire, but they were frightened and skittish and Jordan was using his mesmerizing voice to calm them all. He looked like hell warmed over, but his tone didn’t in any way match his expression. It was lulling and easy and sank into the bones, reassuring even the most fractious animal.

Lizzy returned to Gabe’s side again and again, and each time he told her he was fine. Then she’d flit off to do more work. She had to be exhausted, but she kept on. He was so damn proud of her, he could barely contain himself.

As if she’d heard his thoughts, she glanced at him, then hurried to his side. “Do you need something to drink?”

On her knees beside him, she smoothed his hair and touched his cheek. Gabe caught her hand and carried it to his mouth. “Mm. You taste like charcoal.”

She grinned. “I imagine I smell like it, too.” She glanced at Jordan. “Sawyer recommended he move the animals into your garage until the clinic can be cleaned. It’ll take a few days. Poor Jordan. He looks devastated.”

“I know how he feels.” She faced him, her brow puckered in confusion, and he said, “You scared the hell out of me, Lizzy, when you ran back in there without me. For all I knew, the place was burning to the ground. I kept thinking about you getting hurt….”

“I was careful.”

“But what if you’d stumbled like I did? How the hell would I have gotten you out of there?” Her expression softened, and she leaned forward to gently kiss his mouth.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I love you.” He hadn’t said it again since she’d had her nightmare, and now he couldn’t keep the words contained. Her eyes widened. “What?” he asked, sounding a little sarcastic. “You thought I made it up the first time? Not a chance.”

“Oh, Gabe.” Tears welled in her eyes, and Gabe held his breath, waiting to see what she would say.

Then Jordan appeared, and he hauled Lizzy to her feet. “I’ve been so busy trying to see to things, I haven’t even thanked you yet.”

Jealousy speared through Gabe as he watched Jordan lift Lizzy onto her tiptoes and kiss her soundly. She blushed, but she didn’t pull away.

“This is going to be inconvenient as hell for a few days,” Jordan said, hugging her tight, “but at least all the animals are safe.”

Lizzy finally pulled back. She smiled and started to say, “Gabe’s the real…” but then her words tapered off and she put a hand over her mouth.

Jordan raised a brow. “Real what? Hero? I’d say you both are. Not only did you get all twenty-three animals outside, you even managed to get my baby brother out with only a knock to his hard head. That took a lot of guts, sweetheart, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”

After Jordan walked away, Gabe took pity on Lizzy and tugged her down beside him. She was mute, her dirty face blank. Gabe kissed her ear. “How’s it feel to be a heroine? Will you add your own experiences to your thesis?”

She blinked owlishly at him. “But I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?” He smoothed a long red sooty curl behind her ear. “Didn’t risk your life for those animals? Didn’t face injury without a thought? Didn’t do what had to be done almost by instinct?”

“But…” She sucked in a deep breath. “I was so scared.”

“For yourself?”

She stared into his eyes, bemused. “No, not at first. I was afraid for you, and for the poor animals. But now I’m shaking with nerves.” She held out her hand to show him, and Gabe cradled it in his large hand.

“Only a fool wouldn’t react after going through something like this. You think after that boating incident I wasn’t something of a wreck?”

“You said you weren’t afraid.”

“I was mad as hell at that fool for falling out of his boat. I wanted to tear something apart, and since I couldn’t get hold of him, I punched a hole in my wall, then had to repair it.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “It’s all just reaction. Anger, fear…I’ve even seen people start laughing and not be able to stop. You’re trembling. I got violent. We’re the same, sweetheart, but we’re also different. And what you did today is no less significant than what I did a year ago.”

She seemed to consider that for a long time, and Gabe was content to hold her. Finally, without quite looking at him, she said, “I don’t want to be a coward, Gabe.”

“You’re not.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Have you enjoyed spending your time with me these last few weeks?”

His heart started pounding. His palms got damp. Gabe didn’t give away his reaction when he answered, keeping his tone mild. “I told you I love you. So of course I love spending time with you.”

She nodded slowly, then curled tighter to his side, keeping her face tucked under his chin. “How many women have you loved?”

Wrapping a red curl around his finger, he said, “Hm. Let’s see. There’s my mother. And now Honey and Misty.”

She punched his ribs. “No, I mean romantically.”

“Just you, sweetheart.”

“You’ve never told another woman that you loved her?”

“No. Though plenty of women have told me that.”

She was so surprised, she leaned back to glare at him. “Really?”

Gabe flicked the end of her nose. “Really. Just not the one woman I wish would tell me.”

She swallowed hard. Her blue eyes were round and filled with feminine daring. Gabe held his breath.

“What would you think,” she asked slowly, “of me finishing school and coming back here to stay?”

Afraid to move, Gabe said, “Are you considering doing that?”

“I think, since you love me, and since I love you, it’d make sense.”

He let his breath out in whoosh. “You little witch!” He laughed and squeezed her, then winced as his head pounded. “Why haven’t you told me before now?”

“I wasn’t sure if I’d dreamed it or if you’d want me around forever. I wasn’t sure if I was making too much of things. I’m not very good at figuring out this whole romantic business. But I do love you. I can’t think of much besides you.”

Going for broke, Gabe said, “You know you’ll have to marry me.” He frowned at her just to let her know he was serious. “You can’t tell a man you love him and then not marry him.”

Her face lit up and her smile was radiant, despite the black soot on her cheeks and the end of her nose. “I have to finish out my semester first. But that won’t be too long.”

“I can wait. I don’t want you to give up anything for me.” Then he shook his head. “I take that back. I want you to give up your guilt. And your free weekends because I’ll be coming to see you whenever you’re off school. And I most definitely want you to give up any thoughts of other men, or—”

She touched his face. “Okay.”

Gabe grinned so hard his head hurt. “I just love an agreeable woman.”

Epilogue

“QUIT LOOKING so disgruntled.”

Gabe frowned at Jordan, his face red, his fists clenched. “I can’t believe you stole her right out from under my nose.”

“She came to me willingly, Gabe. And besides, I need her.”

“So do I!”

Jordan shrugged indifferently. “You can get anyone to answer your damn phones, but Elizabeth has the touch. The animals love her. More than they love me, sometimes, and that’s a truth that hurts.”

Gabe looked at his wife, all decked out in snowy white, her beautiful red hair hanging in long curls down her back. He wanted to get the damn reception over with so he could get her alone.

“Uh, Gabe, your lust is showing.”

Gabe considered flattening his brother, but then he saw Lizzy smile and she looked so happy, he knew he had to give in gracefully. “All right, so she can be your assistant. I guess I can hire someone else.” He had taken Sawyer’s advice and opened a shop in town. He had more business than he could handle, but he enjoyed it so he wasn’t complaining. He’d thought Lizzy would work with him, but she’d opted to sign on with Jordan, and he had to admit she had a way with animals.

She was so special she made his heart swell just looking at her.

“So magnanimous,” Jordan uttered dryly. “I had no idea you had these caveman tendencies.”

“I didn’t, either, until I met Lizzy.”

“She got a fantastic grade on her thesis. Did she tell you she’s been approached about adding it to a text?”

Gabe scowled. “She’s my wife. Of course she told me.”

Jordan laughed, then quickly held up both hands. “All right, all right. Quit breathing fire on me. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

Thank God she’d kept his name anonymous, Gabe thought, disgruntled by the instant popularity of her Mystique of Heroes. He snorted. What a stupid subject. But evidently not everyone thought so; Lizzy had received several calls from men wanting her to interview them. Gabe would have liked to hide her away somewhere, but watching her bloom was a distinct pleasure, so he put up with all the other men ogling her and tamped down his jealousy.

After all, she’d married him.

Jordan nudged him with his shoulder. “She’s getting ready to throw the bouquet. This always cracks me up the way the women fight over it.”

Ready to get back a little of his own, Gabe said, “I noticed all those women lining up are eyeing you like a side of beef. You’ll be next, you know.”

Jordan shook his head, then downed the rest of his drink. “You can forget that right now. I’m rather partial to my bachelor ways.”

“You just haven’t met the right woman yet. When you do, I bet you get knocked on your ass so quick you won’t know what hit you.”

Jordan was ready to refute that when suddenly the women all started shouting. He and Gabe looked up to see that Lizzy had thrown the bouquet, but her aim was off. It came sailing across the room in a dramatic arch. Right toward Jordan.

He almost dropped his drink he was so surprised, but when the flowers hit him in the chest, he managed to juggle everything, and was left standing there holding the flowers.

Gabe laughed out loud, Lizzy covered her mouth with a hand to stifle her giggles and Jordan, seeing a gaggle of women rushing toward him, muttered, “Oh, hell.”

Gabe looked at his wife and winked, then whispered to Jordan, “You better make a run for it.”

And he did.

Gabe smiled as Lizzy headed toward him, looking impish and beautiful and so sexy he decided the reception was well and truly over. He kissed her as soon as she reached him, then whispered against her lips, “That was a dirty trick to play on my brother.”

She grinned. “I was tired of all the women here looking at you with broken hearts. It’s time for Jordan to be the sacrificial lamb.”

Gabe shook his head with mock sympathy. “Damn, I feel sorry for him.”

Startled, Elizabeth leaned into his side and asked, “Why?”

Taking her by surprise, Gabe hoisted her up in his arms, which left her delicate white gown loose around her legs, giving everyone a sexy peek. Over the sound of the raucous applause from all the attending guests, Gabe whispered, “Because the prettiest, sexiest, smartest female is already taken—and I have her.”

Elizabeth laughed. “You are a charmer, Gabe.”

He started out of the room, holding her close to his heart. Right before he disappeared through the doorway, he looked up and saw Jordan backed against a wall, women surrounding him. Gabe shook his head.

He wished his only single brother all the same love that he’d just found.

The women looked determined enough to see that he got it.

Jordan

by Lori Foster

Contents

THE SWINE.

Jordan Sommerville stared at the hand-painted sign positioned crookedly over the ramshackle building. Visible from the roadway, the sign boasted some of the worst penmanship he’d ever seen. The bright red letters seemed to leap right out at him.

He cursed as another icy trickle of rain slid down the back of his neck. He could hear the others behind him, murmuring in subdued awe as they took in the sights and sounds of the bar. It was late, it was dark, and for September, it was unseasonably cool. Surely there didn’t exist a more idiotic way to spend a Friday night.

The idea of trying to convince a bar owner to institute a drink limit, especially a bar owner who had thus far allowed quite a few men to overimbibe, seemed futile. Jordan started forward, anxious to get it over with.

Somehow he’d become the designated leader of the five-man troop, a dubious honor he’d regretfully accepted. The men had been organized by Zenny, a retired farmer who was best described as cantankerous—on his good days. Then there was Walt and Newton, who claimed to be semi-retired from their small-town shops, though they still spent every day there. And Howard and Jesse, the town gossips who volunteered for every project, just to make sure they got to stick their noses into anything that was going on.

Jordan stopped at the neon-lighted doorway to the seedy saloon and turned to face the men. A strobing beer sign in the front window illuminated their rapt faces. Jordan had to shout to be heard over the loud music and laughter blaring from inside the establishment.

“Now remember,” he said, and though he used his customary calm tone, he infused enough command to hold all their attention, “we’re going to talk. That’s all. There’ll be no accusations, no threats and absolutely, under no circumstances, will there be any violence. Understood?”

Five heads bobbed in agreement even as they looked anxiously beyond Jordan to the rambunctious partying inside. Jordan sighed.

Buckhorn County was dry, which meant anyone who drank had the good sense to stay indoors and keep it private. There’d been too many accidents on the lake, mostly from vacationers who thought water sports and alcohol went hand in hand, for the citizens to want it any other way.

But this new bar, a renovated old barn, had opened just over the county line, so the same restriction didn’t apply. Lately, some of its customers had tried joyriding through Buckhorn in the dead of the night, hitting fences, tearing up cornfields, terrorizing the farm animals, and generally making minor mayhem. No one had been seriously injured, yet, but in the face of such moronic amusements, it was only a matter of time.

So the good citizens of Buckhorn had rallied together and, at the suggestion of the Town Advisory Board, decided to try talking to the owner of the bar. They hoped he would be reasonable and agree to restrict drinks to the rowdier customers, or perhaps institute a drink limit for those that leaned toward nefarious tendencies and overindulgence.

Jordan already knew what a waste of time that would be. He had his own very personal reasons for loathing drunks. He would have gently refused to take part in the futile endeavor tonight, except that he and his brothers were considered leading citizens of Buckhorn, and right now, due to a nasty flu that had swept through the town, Jordan was the only brother available to lead.

With a sigh, he walked through the scarred wooden doors and stepped inside. The smoke immediately made his lungs hurt. Mixed with the smells of sweat and the sickening sweet odor of liquor, it was enough to cause the strongest stomach to lurch.

The dank, dark night worked as a seal, enclosing the bar in a sultry cocoon. The walls were covered with dull gray paint. Long fluorescent lights hung down from the exposed ceiling beams, adding a dim illumination to an otherwise gloomy scene.

Men piled up behind Jordan, looking over his shoulder, breathing on his neck, tsking at what they saw as salacious activity. Which didn’t, of course, stop them from ogling the scene in deep fascination. Jordan could almost feel their anticipation and knew the evening was not destined to end well.

Hoping to locate someone in charge, Jordan looked around. A heavy, sloping counter seated several men, all of them hanging over their beers while a painfully skinny, balding man refilled drinks with the quickness of long practice. At the end of the bar stood a massive, menacing bouncer, the look on his face deliberately intimidating. Jordan snorted, seeing the ploy for what it was; a way to keep the peace in a place that cultivated disagreements by virtue of what it was and the purpose it served.

There were booths lining the walls and a few round tables cluttering up the middle of the floor. Overall, the place seemed crowded and loud, but not lively. An atmosphere of depression hung in the air despite the bawdy laughter.

Then suddenly the noise of conversation, clinking glasses and rowdy music died away. In its place a heavy, expectant hush filled the air. Jordan felt the hair on his arms tingle with a subtle awareness. Everyone stared at a low stage to the left of the front door, almost in the center of the bar. It couldn’t have been more than eight feet wide and ten feet long. A faded, threadbare curtain at the back of the stage rustled but didn’t open.

Jordan stared, feeling as mesmerized as everyone else, though he had no idea why. Behind him, old man Zenny coughed. Walt eased closer. Newton bumped into his left side.

Slowly, so slowly Jordan hardly noticed it at first, music from a hidden stereo began to filter into the quiet. It crackled a bit, as if the speakers had been subjected to excessive volume. It started out low and easy and gradually built to a rousing tempo that made him think of the Lone Ranger series. All the men who’d previously been loud were now subdued and waiting.

The curtain parted just as the music grabbed a bouncing beat and took off like a horse given his lead. Jordan caught his breath.

A woman, slight in build except for her truly exceptional breasts, burst onto the stage in what appeared to be an aerobic display except that she moved with the music…and looked seductive as hell.

He’d seen his three sisters-in-law do similar steps while exercising, but then, his sisters-in-law didn’t have breasts like this woman, and they were always dressed in sweats when they worked out.

And they sure as certain didn’t perform for drunks.

Nearly spellbound, Jordan couldn’t pull his gaze away. His mouth opened on a deep breath, his hands curled into fists and his body tightened. The reaction surprised him and kept him off guard.

As he stared he realized the woman wasn’t exactly doing a seductive dance. But the way she moved, fluid and graceful and fast, each turn or twist or high kick keeping time to the throbbing beat, had every man in the bar—including Jordan—holding his breath, balanced on a keen edge of anticipation.

She wore a revealing costume of black lace, strategically placed fringe, and little else. The fringe glittered with jet beads that moved as she moved, drawing attention to her bouncing breasts and rotating hips. Her legs were slender, sleekly muscled. She turned her back to the bar, and the fringe on her behind did a little flip-flip-flip. Jordan’s right hand twitched, just imagining what that bottom would feel like.

He cursed under his breath. The costume covered her, and yet it didn’t. He’d seen women at the lake wearing bikinis that were much more revealing, but none that were sexier. She kept perfect time with the heavy pulsing of the music and within two minutes her shoulders and upper chest gleamed with a fine mist of sweat, making her glow. Her full breasts, revealed almost to her nipples, somehow managed to stay inside her skimpy costume, but the thought that they might not kept Jordan rigid and enrapt.

Next to him, Newton whispered, “Lord have mercy,” and the same awe Jordan felt was revealed in the older man’s voice. Jordan scowled, wishing he could send the men back outside, wishing he could somehow cover the woman up.

He didn’t want others looking at her. But he could have looked at her all night long.

His possessive urges toward a complete stranger were absurd, so he buried them away behind a dose of contempt while ignoring the punching beat of his heart.

The audience cheered, screamed, banged their thick beer mugs on the counter and on the tabletops. Yet the woman’s expression never changed. She didn’t smile, though her overly lush, wide mouth trembled slightly with her exertions. She had a mouth made for kissing, for devouring. Her lips looked soft and Jordan knew with a man’s intuition exactly how sweet they’d feel against his own mouth, his skin. Every now and then she turned in such a way that the lighting reflected in her pale gray eyes, which stared straight ahead, never once focusing on any one man.

In fact, her complete and utter disregard for her all-male audience was somehow arousing. She looked to be the epitome of sexual temptation, but didn’t care. She might have been dancing alone, in the privacy of her bedroom, for all the attention she gave to the shouting, leering spectators.

Feigning nonchalance, Jordan crossed his arms over his chest and decided to wait until her show ended before finding the proprietor. Not because she interested him. Of course not. But because right now it would be useless to start his search, being that everyone was caught up in the show.

Despite his attempt at indifference, Jordan’s gaze never left her, and every so often it seemed his heartbeat mirrored her rhythm. Beneath his skin, a strange warmth expanded, pulsed. Something about her, something elusive yet intrinsically female, called to him. He ignored the call. He was not a man drawn in by flagrant sexuality. No, when a woman caught his attention, it was because of her gentleness, her intelligence, her morals. Unlike his brothers—who were the finest men he knew—he’d never been a slave to his libido. They’d often teased him about his staid personality, his lack of fire, because he’d made a point of keeping his composure in all things. At least most of the time.

His eyes narrowed.

Short, golden brown curls framed her face and were beginning to darken with sweat, clinging to her temples and her throat. It was an earthy look, dredging up basic primal appetites. Jordan wondered what those damp curls would feel like in his fingers, what her heated skin would taste like to his tongue. How her warmed body would feel under his, moving as smoothly to his sexual demands as it moved to the music.

As the rhythmic beat began to fade, she dropped smoothly to her knees, then her stomach. Palms flat on the floor, arms extended, she arched her body in a parody of a woman in the throes of pleasure. The move was blatantly sexual, deliberately seducing, causing the crowd to almost riot and making Jordan catch his breath.

Her face was exquisite at that moment, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, nostrils flaring. Jordan locked his jaw against the mental images filling his brain—images of him holding her hips while she rode him in just that way, taking him deep inside her body.

He wanted to banish the thoughts, but they wouldn’t budge. Anger at himself and at the woman conflicted with his growing tension.

He knew every damn man in the place was imagining the same thing and it enraged him.

In that instant her eyes slowly opened and her glittering gray gaze locked on his. Jordan sucked in a breath, feeling as though she’d just touched him in all the right places. They were connected as surely as any lovers, despite the space between them, the surroundings and the lack of prior knowledge. Her eyes turned hot and a bit frightened as they filled with awareness.

Then she caught herself and with a lift of her chin, she swung her legs around and came effortlessly to her feet.

Scowling at the unexpected effect of her, Jordan tried, without success, to pull his gaze away. There was nothing about a mostly naked vamp dancing in a sleazy bar for the delectation of drunks that should appeal to him.

So why was he so aroused?

He hadn’t had such a staggering reaction to a female since his teens when puberty had made him more interested in sex than just about anything else. But he’d grown up since then. He was a mature, responsible man now.

He was…

The music died away to utter silence. The hush in the room was rich and hungry.

She wasn’t beautiful, Jordan insisted to himself, attempting to argue away his racing heartbeat, his clenched muscles and his swelling sex. In fact, she was barely pretty. But she was as sexy as the original temptation, her appeal basic and erotic.

Over the silence, Jordan detected the sound of her heavy breathing with the force of a thunderclap. A roar of approval started the massive applause, and within seconds the room rocked with the sounds of masculine appreciation and entreaties for more. Jordan continued to watch her, not smiling, not about to encourage her. He waited for her to meet his gaze again, but she didn’t. She looked straight ahead, deliberately ignoring him.

Anger simmered inside him, warring with lust.

Slowly, still struggling for breath, she took a bow. He hadn’t noticed until that moment that she wore high heels. Amazing, he thought, remembering how she’d moved, the gracefulness of her every step. Her legs looked especially long in the spiked heels.

She tottered slightly as if in exhaustion, appearing young and vulnerable for the space of a heartbeat. Money was thrown onstage, some of it hitting the open urn positioned at the edge, most of it landing around her feet. She didn’t bend to pick it up or acknowledge the money in any way. She merely stood there, as proud and imperious as a queen while the men payed homage, begging her for more, emptying their pockets.

If Jordan hadn’t been watching her so closely, he wouldn’t have seen her hands curl into fists, or the way her soft mouth tightened. With one last nod of her head, she turned to leave the stage. That’s when the trouble started.

Two men reached for her, one catching her wrist, the other stroking her knee and thigh.

A wave of rage hit Jordan with such force, it nearly took him to his knees.

He couldn’t dispute his own reaction, and started toward her. At almost the same time, the bouncer pushed himself away from the back wall, but Jordan barely noticed him. He kept his gaze on the woman’s face as she tried to pull her hand free, but the drunken men had other plans. One of them attempted to press money into her hand while he suggested several lecherous possibilities, egged on by his buddy.

Others seconded the drunks’ suggestions, throwing more money, making catcalls and urging her to another dance…and more.

She firmly refused, and again tried to step away. Her gaze sought out the bouncer, but he’d been detained by a table full of younger men who were insisting the woman should continue.

Jordan reached the edge of the stage just as she said, “Go on home to your wife, Larry. The show’s over.”

Her deep throaty voice was filled with loathing and exhaustion. It affected Jordan almost as strongly as the sight of the drunk’s rough hand wrapped around her slender wrist. He barely restrained himself from attacking the man, and that alone was an aberration. Jordan had never considered himself a violent or overly aggressive person.

“Let the lady go.”

Reacting to the command in Jordan’s tone, the man released her automatically, only to turn on Jordan with a growl.

“Who the hell are you?” As he asked it, Larry took a threatening step forward.

Jordan gave him a stark look of contempt. In as reasonable a voice as he could muster, considering his mood and the obstreperous noise of the bar, he said, “You’re drunk and I’m not. I’m bigger in every way. And right now, I’d like to tear you in two.” Jordan watched him, his gaze unwavering. “Does it really matter who I am?”

Larry reeked of alcohol, as if he’d been at the bar all day. Perhaps that accounted for his loss of good sense. But for whatever reason, he disregarded Jordan’s warning and attempted a clumsy punch. Jordan leaned back two inches so that Larry’s limp fist whipped right past his jaw, then he stuck his foot out, gave the smaller man a shove, and sent him sprawling. Larry screeched like a wet hen, but when he hit the dusty barn floor he landed hard, and he didn’t look sober enough to get back up.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake…” The dancer’s words were muttered low, but Jordan heard her. He glanced up. The other man stepped back quickly at the look of menace in Jordan’s eyes. Unfortunately, he still had his hand hooked around the woman’s knee and his sudden retreat pulled her off balance. With a loud gasp, she stumbled right off the edge of the low stage and would have landed next to Larry if Jordan hadn’t caught her.

The impact of her small, lush body caused Jordan to stumble, too, but he easily regained his balance and, acting on pure male instinct, wrapped his arms tightly around her bottom. Her belly landed flush against his lower chest, her ripe breasts pressed to his face. Jordan stood, for a single instant, stunned.

Her small hands felt cool on his burning skin, the contrast maddening. Braced against his shoulders, she pushed back and Jordan was able to see her angry face.

“Are you insane?” she demanded.

“At this moment?” Jordan asked, unable to concentrate on anything of import, not with those incredible breasts a mere breath away. “I believe so.”

He held very still, feeling trapped by her nearness, by the deep timbre of her voice, her warm, gentle weight, her seductive movements. Her body was lithe and supple, soft, despite her determination to push away from him. Acutely aware of one firm breast pressing into his jaw, he could see far too much cleavage to allow for divided attention.

Her black lace bodysuit dipped low in front, displaying the paleness and lush roundness of her breasts; the material was so sheer he could plainly make out the outline of her puckered nipples, thrusting noticeably against the material. His mouth went dry. He was so hard he hurt.

He wanted to taste her.

Contrary to all reason, to the situation, to the crowd around them, to his own basic nature, he wanted to draw her into the heat of his mouth, lick her, taste her, hear her husky moans. He’d only need to turn his head a scant two inches and…

His breath came faster, his stomach cramped.

Her naked thighs were sleek and smooth and warm against his forearms, which he had crossed beneath her bottom. Up close, her overdone makeup was even more apparent—but then, so was her allure. Jordan met her gaze and they each stalled.

Her pale skin was tinged pink from exertion and embarrassment. Her nose was narrow, tilted up on the end like an innocent pixie’s, her mouth so full and soft he could almost feel the effect of it against his skin, making his body throb. Her face was a perfect oval, her cheeks a little too round, her chin a little too stubborn. But those arctic gray eyes…

He’d never seen any like them.

Her breath caught sharply as he studied her mouth. With a burst of near panic, she began her struggles anew. Her efforts to free herself from his hold set them off-kilter and Jordan fell back a step.

A rickety table overturned as he bumped into it, spilling several drinks. Jordan, feeling a little drunk himself as he breathed in the smell of her musky, heated skin, especially strong between her soft breasts, attempted to regain his balance and apologize at the same time.

He wasn’t given a chance. This time the man swinging his meaty fist had better aim. Jordan quickly tried to set the dancer on her feet even as he ducked. He wasn’t fast enough to do either.

His head snapped back from a solid clip in the jaw. Pain exploded, but Jordan didn’t lose his hold on the woman. In fact, his arms felt locked, unable to open even when he wanted them to.

Ears ringing from the blow, Jordan allowed his anger to erupt. Because of how he held her, that fist had come entirely too close to touching a woman.

His head now clearer, Jordan gently released his feminine bundle and moved her behind his back, keeping her there when she attempted to stall the fight. He eyed the man who’d struck him, and with a sharp, lightning-fast reflex that was more automatic than not, Jordan used the backward sweep of his bent arm to slam his elbow into the man’s jaw. His blow was far more powerful than the one he’d received, and the man sank like a brick in water. Other than his arm, Jordan hadn’t moved—and his mood was deadly.

All hell broke loose.

The bouncer who’d just witnessed Jordan’s retaliation came charging forward. Jordan sighed. He wasn’t a regular, which he supposed meant he was automatically tagged as the troublemaker.

Looking quickly around for the older men who’d come with him, Jordan found them safely ensconced in the far corner near the front door where they could watch while staying unharmed. He didn’t have time to breathe a sigh of relief.

The bouncer grabbed Jordan’s arm and jerked him forward. Normally Jordan would have attempted to talk his way out of the confrontation. He wasn’t, in the usual course of things, a combative man. But the bar had opened up to a free-for-all. Chairs flew around him, bottles and glasses were thrown. Men were shouting and punching and cursing.

Jordan locked his jaw. He needed to get the woman out of harm’s way, and he needed to take his cohorts back to Buckhorn. Before he had time to really think about what he would do, he ducked under the bouncer’s meaty arm and came up behind him. The guy was huge, easily four inches taller than Jordan’s six foot one, with a neck the size of a tree trunk. Jordan gripped the man’s fingers and applied just enough negative pressure for the big guy to issue a moan of pain. Jordan wrapped his free arm around the bouncer’s throat and squeezed.

“Just hold still,” Jordan said in disgust, wondering what the hell he should do now. He ducked a body that came staggering past, inadvertently hurting the bouncer further. Damn, things had gotten out of hand.

Jordan wasn’t a fighter, but he had grown up with two older brothers and one younger. Being the pacifist in a family full of physical aggressors, he’d been taught to give as well as take. Not that he and his brothers had ever had any serious fistfights. But his brothers played as hard as they fought, so Jordan had learned how to hold his own.

Morgan, his second oldest brother, was built like a solid brick wall and Jordan had practiced up on him most of his life. There were few things that Morgan enjoyed more than a good skirmish. And though he was beyond fair, Morgan always finished as the victor.

Jordan knew how to handle the big ones. Morgan had generously seen to that.

Sirens sounded outside, adding to the confusion. In strangled tones, the bouncer demanded to be released, but Jordan ignored him, maintaining his awkward hold and refusing to lose the upper hand. Using the large man as a shield, Jordan turned to the woman and shouted, “Get away from here.”

She hesitated for only a moment, sending a regretful look at the money scattered across the stage. Then her gray eyes met his and she nodded her agreement. But before she could go, her eyes widened and she looked beyond Jordan. He twisted just in time to avoid getting hit from behind. The bouncer ended up taking the brunt of the blow, which left him cursing and very disgruntled, but still very alert. Jordan raised his brows. It was a good thing he’d immobilized the big bruiser, because he wasn’t at all certain he could have bested him face-to-face.

He turned back in time to see the woman scrambling up onto the stage. In her retreat, she gave Jordan a delectable view of her bottom in the skimpy costume. Despite his precarious position—having his arms filled with an outraged bouncer—Jordan felt his heartbeat accelerate at the luscious sight of her. She was almost to the curtain when several policemen charged through the doors.

With a feeling of dread, Jordan saw the officers draw their guns as they issued the clichéd order of ” everybody freeze.”

Zenny, Walt, Newton and the others were nowhere in sight, having evidently made a run for it when they heard the sirens. At least they’d managed to avoid this situation, Jordan thought. In fact, he’d be willing to bet they were already halfway back to Buckhorn, anxious to begin spreading tales of his night of debauchery. This was likely more excitement than any of the older citizens had experienced in many years, and the only thing that might compare would be the joy of telling others about it.

Jordan’s thoughts were interrupted when a young officer climbed onto the stage and approached the dancer. She looked like she wanted to run, but instead she faced him with a defiant pose and began arguing. Dressed as she was, her attitude was more ludicrous than not. A mostly naked woman could hardly be taken seriously.

Jordan started toward her, bustling the bouncer along with him, meaning to intervene. But before he’d taken two steps another officer stepped in front of him. All around them, men were shouting curses and arguing, which did them no good at all. Having no choice, Jordan released the bouncer, who began shaking his hand and cursing and promising dire consequences. He was quickly handcuffed and urged into the crowd of men being corralled outside. The officer turned to Jordan with a frown.

Knowing there was no hope for it, Jordan merely held out his hands and suffered the unique experience of being handcuffed. Beside him, men attempted to argue their circumstances, and were shoved roughly out the door for their efforts. Jordan shook his head at the demeaning display while still keeping one eye on the woman. Someone, he thought, should at least offer to let her get dressed.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the officer asked Jordan.

“No, I’m from Buckhorn.” He gave the admission grudgingly, but he already knew there was no way to keep this stupid contretemps from his brothers. They’d rib him about this for the rest of eternity.

The officer lifted a brow and grinned with a good deal of satisfaction. “That’s a break. You can just wait in my car while I notify the sheriff of Buckhorn. He can deal with you himself and save me the trouble.”

When the officer started to pull him away, Jordan asked, “The woman…?”

“I’d worry about my own hide if I was you,” he said, then added, “That Buckhorn sheriff is one mean son of a bitch.”

Since the sheriff was none other than his brother Morgan, Jordan was already well aware of that fact. He lost sight of the woman as he was escorted outside through the rain and into the back seat of a cruiser where he cursed his fate, his libido and his damned temper, which had chosen a hell of a bad time to display itself. The car he’d arrived in was long gone, proving his supposition that the others had headed home.

The car door opened again and an officer helped the woman inside. She faltered when she saw Jordan sitting there, staring at her in blank surprise. “Oh, Lord,” she whispered with heartfelt distress. She dropped back into the seat and covered her face with her hands. “Just when I think the night can’t get any worse….”

Jordan breathed in the scent of her rain-damp skin and hair, acutely aware of her frustration, her exhaustion. He settled into his seat and realized that despite how she felt, the night had just taken a dramatic turn for the better as far as he was concerned.

“YOU LIVE IN Buckhorn?” he asked, which was the only conclusion he could come up with for why she was now in the car with him.

When she didn’t answer, the officer gave him a man-to-man look and said, “According to her license, she does.”

Jordan leaned forward to see her face, but with her hands still covering it, that wasn’t possible. He gently caught her wrists and tugged them down. Their handcuffs clinked together.

Softly, attempting to put her at ease, he asked, “Whereabouts? I’ve never seen you before.” And he sure as certain would have remembered if he ever had. Even if she’d been fully clothed and doing something as mundane as shopping for groceries, he felt certain he’d have paid special attention to her. There was something about her that hit him on a gut level.

Just being this close to her now had his muscles cramping in a decidedly erotic way. Like the effects of prolonged foreplay, the sensation was pleasurable yet somewhat painful at the same time, because of the imposed restraint.

Their gazes met, his curious, hers wary and antagonistic. She looked away. “Where I live,” she said under her breath, “is no concern of yours.”

The officer answered again, disregarding her wishes for privacy. “You know that old farmhouse, out by the water tower? She moved in there.”

The woman glared at the officer, who did manage to look a bit sheepish over his quick tongue. He leaned farther into the car to remove her handcuffs and place her purse in her lap. Jordan stared at her narrow wrists while she rubbed them, feeling his temper prick at the thought that she might have been hurt.

She wore no jewelry—no wedding band.

The officer spared him a glance. “If I remove your handcuffs, too, do you think you can behave yourself?”

It rankled, being treated like an unruly child, but Jordan was too busy staring at the woman to take too much offense. He silently held up his hands and waited to have them unlocked. The woman stared out her window past the officer, ignoring Jordan completely.

“What are we waiting for?” Jordan asked, before the officer could walk away.

“The chief agrees that Sheriff Hudson can deal with the both of you. Our jail is overcrowded as it is, and it’s going to be a late night getting everyone’s phone calls out of the way. Just sit tight. Hudson’s already been called.”

Jordan groaned softly. Morgan had his hands full taking care of Misty tonight. She was laid low with the nastiest case of flu Jordan had ever seen, and with their baby daughter to contend with, Morgan wouldn’t appreciate being called out. Of course, his brother Gabe or one of his sisters-in-law, Honey or Elizabeth, would gladly give a helping hand. But that meant they then ran the risk of getting the flu, too.

Jordan forced his gaze away from the woman and dropped his head back against the seat. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

She shifted slightly away from him, though she was already pressed up against the door. Jordan swiveled his head just a bit to see her. The night was dark with no stars visible, no moonlight. Shadows played over her features and exaggerated her guarded frown. She looked quietly, disturbingly miserable. And she was shivering.

No wonder, he thought, calling himself three kinds of fool. The outfit she wore offered no protection at all from the rainy night air. Though it was September, a cool wet spell had rolled into Kentucky forcing everyone into slightly warmer clothes. Jordan studied her bare shoulders and slim naked limbs as he removed his jacket. It was damp around the collar, but still dry on the inside, and warm from his own body heat.

Aware of her efforts to ignore him, he held it out to her, his gaze intent. “Put this on,” he told her, using his most cajoling tone. “You’re shivering.”

Very slowly, she turned her head and looked at him with the most distant, skeptical expression he’d ever seen on a female face. “Why are you talking like that?”

Jordan started in surprise. “Like what?” he asked, not quite so softly or cajoling.

Her frown was filled with distrust…and accusation. “Like you’re trying to seduce me. Like a man talks to a woman when they’re alone together in bed.”

Jordan couldn’t have been more floored by her direct attack if she’d clobbered him. Totally bemused, he opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

She made a sound of disgust. “You can stop wasting your time. I’m not interested. And no, I don’t want your jacket.”

Taken off guard, Jordan frowned. All his life, women had told him he had the most compelling voice. He could lull a wounded bear to sleep or talk grown men out of a fistfight. At the ripe old age of thirty-three, he’d garnered a half dozen wedding proposals from women who said they loved to just listen to him talk, especially in bed.

But right then, at this particular moment, he didn’t even think about trying to be persuasive. He even forgot that he could be persuasive.

“Don’t be a fool,” he growled. “You’ll end up catching your death running around near naked like that.”

Her arms crossed over her middle and her neck stiffened at his exasperated tone. A heavy beat of silence passed before she rounded on him. Her eyes weren’t cool now. They were bright and hot with anger.

“I can’t believe you got me into this fix,” she nearly shouted, “then have the nerve to try to seduce me and—”

“I wasn’t trying to seduce you, damn it!”

“—and to criticize me!”

Distracted by the way her crossed arms hefted her breasts a little higher, Jordan was slow to respond. He managed to drag his gaze up to her very angry face again, and he scowled. “I got you into this fix? Honey, I’m the one who was trying to help you out!”

She thrust her jaw toward him in clear challenge. She was so close, her sweet hot breath pelted his face. “I’m not your damn honey, mister, and I didn’t need your help. I deal with Larry in one way or another nearly every night. He’s a regular at the bar—a regular drunk and a regular pain in the butt. But I know how to handle him.” Her lip curled, and she added with contempt, “Obviously, you don’t.”

Jordan let his hand holding the jacket drop to the seat between them. Never in his life had he been at such a loss for words. He rubbed his chin, scrutinizing her until she squirmed. Good. Her discomfort, in the face of her hostility, gave him a heady dose of satisfaction.

“Ah.” He cocked one brow. “I think I understand now.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

He shrugged. “I suppose any woman with enough guts to display herself as you did tonight must know how to handle the pathetic drunks who want to grope her. I’m sorry I interfered. Would Larry have given you a bigger tip?”

She choked on an outraged breath. “You hypocrite! I had you pegged from the start. You sit there and condemn me, yet you were at the bar, weren’t you? You’ll gladly watch, even as you look down your nose at the entertainment.”

Jordan leaned closer, too, drawn to her like a magnet, wishing he could lift her into his lap and hold her close and feel all that angry passion flush against his body. She practically vibrated with her fury, and for some fool reason it turned him on like the most potent aphrodisiac.

“I was there,” Jordan said, “to protest the place, not to support your little display.”

Her eyes widened and her chest heaved; Jordan couldn’t help it, he stared at her breasts. They were more than a handful, shimmering with her frustration, creamy pale and looking so soft. His palms itched with the need to scoop those luscious breasts out of her bodice and weigh them in his hands, to flick her nipples with his thumbs until they stiffened, until she moaned.

He swallowed hard and met her gaze, knowing his look was covetous, knowing that she knew it, too.

“So,” she said, and to his interest, she sounded a bit breathless despite her efforts at acerbity, “you’re a vigilante? One of those crazy people who protests all the sinners, people who drink or dance or have fun of any kind?”

“Not at all.” They were both so close now, a mere inch separated them. She wasn’t backing off any more than he was, and her bravado served as another source of excitement. He’d never met a woman like her.

Jordan felt the clash of wills and the draw of sensual interest. “My only concern,” he murmured, distracted by her warmth, her scent, “is the inebriated men who leave the bar and enter my county. Your county. They’ve caused a few problems which I’d like to see taken care of before someone ends up hurt or even killed.”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Jordan drew a deep breath, trying to remember what it was he had to say. “I had intended to talk to the owner, nothing more. But then, I didn’t realize you liked being felt up by Larry.”

Her gaze jerked back to his. Her bottom lip quivered before she stilled it, making Jordan wonder if it was caused by upset at his nasty words—why was he being nasty, damn it?—or from the distinct chill of the night. He felt the first nigglings of shame for baiting her. In the normal course of things, he never intentionally insulted women. He was gentle and understanding. But this wasn’t a normal night, she wasn’t the average woman, and his reactions to her were as far from the expected as he could get.

“He touched my leg,” she said succinctly, “and before he would have touched anything else, Gus would have stopped him.”

“Gus?” A tiny flare of jealousy took him by surprise.

“The bouncer. The one you…”

“Ah.” Jordan saw a hint of color sweep over her face and touched her cheek with his fingertips, gently smoothing a damp curl aside. “The big bruiser I stopped from knocking me out. Why the hell was he attacking me, anyway?”

She didn’t protest his touch. They were both breathing too hard, too fast. She lifted one delicate shoulder in a way that made her breasts shift, teasing him with the possibility of gaining a peek at her taut nipples. He was disappointed to see she stayed securely inside the bodice. Jordan shook his head and tried to force himself to concentrate on their conversation, impossible as that seemed.

“He doesn’t know you,” she said. “And you looked—” She peeked up at him, a slight frown marring her brown. “Well, you looked furious.”

“I was furious.” His voice dropped to a whisper, making her eyes, shadowed and cautious, widen on his face. “I thought someone was going to hurt you.”

Her lips parted.

Outside the car, one man struggling against being arrested fetched up against the door closest to the woman. She jumped, letting out a startled gasp. Without even thinking about it, Jordan clasped her shoulder, offering comfort and reassurance. Her soft skin tempted him and it was all he could do to keep the touch impersonal, to keep from caressing her. But she also felt cool against the warmth of his hand, making him frown.

A lot of activity was going on around them, though he hadn’t been aware of it moments before. Above the din of complaints and drunken shouts, Jordan heard the sheriff arguing that he’d been called one time too many to the bar, and now he was forced to actually do something, just so he could get some peace.

Apparently that something was a series of arrests, and it didn’t matter that Jordan hadn’t been drinking, that he hadn’t started the fight, and that he’d had nothing to do with the other numerous times the disgruntled sheriff had been summoned.

“Nice place you work at.” Jordan continued to smooth his fingers over her skin, unable to force himself to move away from her.

“It pays the bills,” was her straightforward reply, then she suddenly seemed to realize his touch and turned to glare at him.

Jordan again held up the coat. “Do you really want my brother to see you looking like that?”

“Your brother?”

“The Buckhorn sheriff. If I know Morgan, he’s liable to be here any minute. I’m sure I’ll get the brunt of his anger, but believe me, there’ll be a heady dose for you, too, since he’d had his evening all planned and it didn’t include a jaunt out into the rainy night. Wouldn’t you rather be wearing a little more armor than lace and fringe?”

Her hands knotted together in her lap. “Do you think he’ll keep us for the night?”

She looked so fragile and delicate, so damn young, Jordan had a hard time reconciling the confident, aloof vamp she’d been on the stage with the concerned, shivering woman she was now. She simply didn’t strike him as a person hardened to life, a woman brazen enough to be comfortable with her earlier display.

It was Jordan’s turn to shrug. “Who knows? He has no tolerance for ignorance, regardless of the fact we’re related. But then again, he’s very fair and you and I weren’t to blame for what happened in there.”

Her glare said differently. Jordan smiled. “Okay, so you think I was to blame. Is that any reason to sit there freezing?” He traced the line of her throat with one fingertip. “Your skin is like ice.”

A slight shudder ran through her and her eyes closed. Jordan stared, feeling what she felt, the connection, the instantaneous sexual charge. Like a touch of lightning, it sizzled along his every nerve ending, making him so acutely aware of her he hurt. He’d never known anything like it and he had no idea how to deal with it. He wanted, quite frankly, to pull her down into the seat and strip off her costume and cover her with his body. He wanted to warm her with his heat. He wanted to take her, right now, right here, to brand her with his touch.

There were no gentle words of admiration in his mind, no thoughts of cautious seduction. He felt savage, and it shook him.

After a shuddering breath, she moved away from his caressing fingers and accepted his coat. He helped her to slip it on, watching her contortions in the limited space of the back seat, seeing the thrust of her breasts as she slipped first one arm though, then the other. She lifted slightly to settle it behind her, and Jordan petted the material down her narrow back, all the way to the base of her spine. She felt supple and firm and he relished the sound of her quickened breath.

He smiled at how the sleeves completely hid her hands, curiously satisfied at seeing her in his coat and feeling somewhat barbaric because of it. She trembled so badly she couldn’t quite manage the buttons. Jordan brushed her small, chilled hands away and did them up for her. In a voice affected by being so close to her, he whispered, “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Her voice, too, sounded huskier than usual, proving to Jordan that he wasn’t sinking alone. No. Whatever strange affliction he felt, she felt it, too.

The urge to touch her again was strong, and he gave into it, tucking a damp curl behind her ear. Her hair was as soft as her skin, baby fine, intriguing. It was cut into various-length curls that moved and bounced when she turned her head. Along her nape, the hair had pulled into adorable little ringlets. He lifted those small curls out of the collar of his coat. “I’m Jordan Sommerville,” he said, and heard the increasing rush of her breath.

Staring down at her hands, she replied, “Georgia Barnes.”

“Georgia? As in a Georgia peach?”

“Don’t start.” Then she blinked and looked up at him. “Sommerville? I thought you said Sheriff Hudson was your brother?”

“Half brother,” Jordan explained. He felt the old bitterness rise up, nearly choking him.

Her head tilted in a curious way. “The sheriff is your younger brother?”

“No. Morgan is the second oldest, right behind Sawyer.” Jordan didn’t feel like explaining. If he was in Buckhorn, he wouldn’t have to, because everyone there knew everyone else’s business. In fact, he decided she must either be very new to the area or very isolated, not to have already heard the stories herself.

There was no disapproval in her tone when she asked, “Your mother has been married twice?”

Jordan sighed, seeing no hope for it. At least Georgia—what a name, probably just used as a stage name—was talking to him. “My mother’s first husband died in the service after giving her two sons, Sawyer and Morgan. She married my father, but not for long because he became a miserable drunk shortly after the wedding.”

He saw her eyes glittering in surprise, saw her soft mouth open. Jordan cupped her chin and touched her bottom lip with his thumb, hungry for the taste of her, as unlikely as that seemed. He barely knew her, and for the most part he didn’t like what he did know, but he felt as though he’d wanted her forever.

Without meaning to, without even wanting to reveal so much, he added, “By all accounts, my father was the type of man who would have loved this bar—as well as that little show of yours.” Slowly, he looked her over in his too large coat, her honey-brown hair wispy and curled with perspiration and rain, her flamboyant makeup smudged.

Her slender bare thigh rested only a few inches beside his, taunting him with its nearness. His hand was large enough that he could cover the entire front of her thigh with his splayed fingers. He could caress her skin, parting her legs as he inched higher and higher until he cupped her, felt her heat, her softness. The material of her body-suit would offer no obstruction at all. He could…

He muttered a low curse. With the drizzling rain outside sealing them in, her musky scent seemed to permeate his brain. It filled him with lust so strong he felt it in his heartbeat, tasted it on his tongue. He’d never been thrown so off balance in his entire life.

“My father,” Jordan said in a raw voice, “would have been right up there with the others, sweetheart, throwing money on the stage, urging you on, and doing his damndest to buy your favors. But seeing you tonight…” He hesitated and his hand opened on the back of her head as he thrust his fingers through her silky hair, urging her closer, watching her pupils expand wildly. “…I can almost forgive him for that.”

Jordan’s words trailed off into a whisper as her eyes slowly closed, her lips parting on a hungry breath. Her invitation was clear, and he leaned toward her, already growing hard in anticipation of taking her mouth. He couldn’t believe this was happening, and he couldn’t stop it.

She gave a soft moan as he kissed the very corner of her lips, and another when he tilted his head and brushed his mouth over hers. Her lips parted on the third moan and Jordan took her, his tongue immediately sinking deep, his mind shutting down on everything except the hot taste of her, the wild, savage way she made him feel.

A loud rapping on the window jarred him out of his lust-fogged stupor.

Georgia jumped back, gasping, one hand at her throat as her face drained of color. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know she was mortified, that she’d been as carried away as Jordan. He leaned past her to see his largest brother scowling through the window.

Morgan’s hair was plastered to his skull, his face was unshaven and he wore a plain T-shirt and jeans, testimony to the fact that he’d been at home, not on call. He must have driven at top speed, Jordan realized, to have gotten to the bar so quickly.

Morgan’s requisite badass look was firmly in place, the one that had kept Buckhorn citizens in line for some time now—the same look that made them all respect him as a man fully capable of handling any situation.

Not in the least daunted by that black expression, Jordan shoved his door open and stepped out of the car, addressing Morgan over the roof. “You’ve got about the lousiest damn timing of any man I’ve ever known!”

Morgan, red-eyed and looking mean, made a sound reminiscent of a snarl. “I’m leaving that distinction to you, Jordan. And you better have one helluva good excuse for this, otherwise I’m liable to kick your ass all the way home—where my sick wife and fussing baby girl are waiting.”

Jordan prepared to blast him with his own ire, made hotter out of unreasoning sexual frustration. But he’d barely gotten two sputtering words out before Georgia shoved her door open, making Morgan back up a pace. She climbed out of the police car, faced him with a serene expression fit for a queen, and said, “You can handle this little family squabble later. I, for one, would like to get this over with so I can get home.”

IT WAS ALL Georgia could do to keep herself from trembling. The man staring down at her had the most ferocious demeanor she’d ever witnessed on man or rabid dog. Besides being enormous, he was dark and so layered in thick muscle she felt dwarfed beside him.

And here she’d thought Jordan was huge.

Actually, the two men were of a similar height, but where Jordan appeared athletic, lean and toned, this man looked like he could eat gravel for breakfast.

Despite her resolve, she began quaking like a wet Chihuahua. And then suddenly Jordan was at her side.

“Knock it off, Morgan. You’re scaring her.”

When Jordan’s hands settled on her shoulders, she didn’t move away. She should have, being that Jordan had the power to turn her knees to jelly and her insides to fire. She’d let him kiss her. The reality of that wasn’t to be borne.

The man had the most sinfully seductive voice she’d ever heard, even when insulting and baiting her. She’d done the unthinkable, all because his voice had softened her, melting away her will and her resolve. She scowled at herself, feeling the shame claw at her. She didn’t like men—not at all. Not for friends, certainly not for lovers.

Most definitely not for a one-night stand, which from what she could deduce, was what Jordan Sommerville was after. He’d made no pretense of liking her or approving of her in any way. The arrogant jerk.

She forced herself to meet the sheriff’s gaze. “Actually, you’re not. Scaring me, that is.” The lie sounded credible even to her own ears, though neither man seemed to believe her. “So if it’s all the same to you I’d just as soon get out of this rain and get going.”

Morgan snorted, eyeing her with a mix of clear annoyance, and perhaps a touch of approval. “So anxious to spend a night in jail, are you?”

She nearly staggered. “Jail? But…” Her stomach suddenly felt queasy, her knees weak. She couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t stay away all night. Swallowing hard, and hating what she had to say even before the words left her mouth, she forced herself to meet the sheriff’s gaze. “I have to go home. Tonight.”

Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “Got a husband waiting for you?”

She shook her head and felt a raindrop slither down her nose. “Two children.”

Jordan’s hands bit reflexively into her shoulders. ” What?”

Georgia felt hemmed in by testosterone. The sheriff looked too grim by half, and she could feel the tension radiating off Jordan. She shifted her shoulders slightly at the pressure of his fingers and he loosened his hold, then turned her around to face him.

“You have kids?” His eyes were like green fire.

She lifted her chin. “Yes.”

The shock on his face was replaced with disgust. “Where the hell is your husband?”

She owed him nothing, certainly no explanations. “Ex-husband. And I have no idea.” Jordan’s brows smoothed out, and she added, “But wherever he is, I hope he stays there. Now, are you done with your interrogation?”

The sheriff snorted. “Maybe you should ask me that.”

Jordan, no longer looking like a thundercloud, pulled her behind his back. Georgia couldn’t see around him, but she heard him plain enough as he addressed his brother.

“You’re not going to arrest her, Morgan, and you know it, so quit taking your bad temper out on her.”

The sheriff seemed to be spoiling for a fight. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll tell Misty.”

Georgia had no idea who Misty was or why her name would make the sheriff relent, but that’s exactly what happened. Sheriff Hudson still sounded annoyed, but no longer so angry. “It’s a lousy night for you to do this to me, Jordan.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t my idea for you to be called, you know.”

“No? What was your idea? To start an all out brawl? I thought you came along to see that there was no trouble, not to insure that there was.”

“I didn’t cause the trouble. I was only…”

His words trailed off as Georgia stepped around him and headed for the bar. If the fool men wanted to stand around in the rain and discuss the situation to death, that was fine with her. But now that she felt certain she wouldn’t be locked up, she had a better way to spend her time.

Before she’d gone five feet, Jordan’s hand closed around her elbow. “Where do you think you’re going?”

With a sigh, she drew up short and turned to face him. She shook back one of the long sleeves of his jacket to free a hand, and then shoved her hair out of her face. Her makeup, she knew, was a disaster.

Not that she cared.

Jordan’s hold on her arm was gentle. His light brown hair hung over his brow, now more wet than otherwise, and his eyes reflected the bar lights, appearing almost…hungry. She looked quickly away. “I’ve got money on the stage. If I don’t get it now, Bill will abscond with it and I’ll have wasted the night for nothing. Since you two don’t seem in a big hurry to rush off, and the other sheriff is apparently done inside—”

“Bill?”

He did seem to get hung up on every male name she mentioned. “The owner of the bar. The man you came to see before you got…sidetracked.” She tried to pull away but Jordan wasn’t letting go.

He turned to Morgan. “Can you give us just a moment?”

“Just.” Morgan didn’t look happy over the concession, but then, she doubted that this one ever looked happy. “Malone will only stay in bed when I’m there to force her to it. Otherwise, you know how she is. She’ll be up and running around, making herself feverish again….”

“We’ll be quick. Why don’t you go warm up the car?”

With a shrug, the sheriff turned away. Georgia watched him go with relief. “Who’s Malone?”

“His wife, Misty.”

So it was his wife that Jordan had threatened him with? That seemed curious to Georgia.

“Why does he call her Malone…never mind.” Disgusted with herself, Georgia turned away. She didn’t care about these men or their strange ways. She walked briskly into the bar, doing her best to ignore the warm touch of Jordan’s hand on her arm as he kept pace with her. Even through his coat sleeve, she could feel his strength, his heat. And for some absurd reason, she reacted to it. He had her thinking things she hadn’t thought in years, contemplating pleasures she was certain didn’t even exist.

Bill was just scooping up the money off the stage when they walked in. Jordan released her and she marched forward, saying sweetly, “Why thank you, Bill. I so appreciate you looking after my money for me.”

Bill had the kind of slick good looks that he assumed would get him anything he wanted from women. To Georgia, his perfectly styled blond hair, dark blue eyes, and capped teeth only emphasized what a fraud he was. She didn’t trust him one iota and never would.

Bill flashed her a surprised look. “Georgia! I thought you were gone.”

“Almost.” She stuck out her hand expectantly and Bill tucked the money closer to his chest. “I’m waiting,” she said, well used to having to deal with Bill and his miserly ways. Like most men, he had a self-serving streak a mile wide, a selfish attitude whenever it came to money and he didn’t hesitate to screw someone when he thought he could get away with it.

“What about the damages to my bar?” he blustered, and cast a nasty look at Jordan Sommerville.

Georgia glanced at Jordan, too, and saw that he had an expression almost as fierce as his brother’s. It was the same look he’d worn earlier, when Larry had held on to her wrist. He’d said he was furious…because he thought she might be hurt.

She turned away. “That wasn’t my doing, Bill, and you know it. Take up your grievances with the boys locked away. But give me my money.” When Bill still dithered, looking undecided as to whether or not he had to obey, she narrowed her eyes and said, “You know I can dance anywhere, Bill. Don’t push me. I need the money.”

With a foul curse that would have embarrassed her as little as a month ago, Bill thrust the wad of bills into her hands. Most of them were ones, but altogether, it should amount up to a hundred dollars or more, money she needed to make repairs to the house she’d recently bought. With a sugary sweet, utterly false smile, she muttered, “Thank you.”

She turned to Jordan, saw his look of contempt, and sniffed. Sanctimonious jerk. “I’m ready if you are.”

Jordan held the saloon door open for her and kept stride with her on the way to the large black sport utility vehicle his brother drove. Some official car, she thought, eyeing the shiny black four-wheel-drive Bronco.

The two sheriffs had been talking, but as she and Jordan neared the vehicle, they parted ways. Sheriff Hudson got behind the wheel.

The rain had almost let up, but a chill had settled in that seemed to seep into her bones. Her bare legs were freezing and she’d somehow managed to step into a puddle, getting both feet soaked. She would have changed clothes, but the sheriff was in an obvious hurry to get going and she didn’t want to push her luck. The quicker she got this over with, the quicker she could get home. She was so weary she ached all the way down to her toes and more than anything she needed a good night’s sleep.

But once she got home, there would be chores to do. If she didn’t get some of the laundry taken care of, they’d all be running around naked. She had no doubt the sink was full of dishes, and there were bills that had to be paid before she lost her utilities.

She was so drawn into her thoughts, she nearly tripped over Jordan when he held the front door of the Bronco open for her. Belatedly, she realized he expected her to ride to the sheriff’s station sandwiched between two overwhelmingly male bodies.

“I’ll sit in back,” she offered, hoping she sounded merely casual, not concerned.

Jordan narrowed his gaze on her. “You’ll ride up front. I want to talk to you.”

He appeared determined and unrelenting, so she looked past him to see the sheriff. “Excuse me,” she said, and Morgan Hudson turned his head to look at her, then lifted one black brow. “I’d prefer to ride in the back like any other criminal being arrested.”

Morgan opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut when she yelped. Jordan’s hands were secure on her waist as he literally tossed her into the front seat and climbed in beside her too quickly for her to do anything about it. He looked at his brother and said, “Drive,” and with a slight, barely suppressed chuckle, the good sheriff did just that.

GEORGIA STEAMED she was so angry. At herself as much as at the two outrageous, oversized men. They’d driven a few minutes in silence when she finally couldn’t hold it in any longer and growled, “I don’t like you.”

Jordan started, evidently surprised that she’d spoken after being quiet for so long. And Morgan grinned. She’d already decided that the sheriff was either frowning or grinning—there wasn’t much middle ground.

“Which of us are you talking to?” Morgan asked.

She was just disgruntled enough to bark, “Both.” Unfortunately, Jordan seemed unfazed by her pique and Morgan was amused.

She was still pondering what to do and how to get everything done tonight when Jordan gave Morgan directions to her home, telling her without words that he was indeed familiar with the old farmhouse she’d bought.

But more important than that, she realized they were taking her straight home, rather than to the station.

“Excuse me,” she said, giving her attention to the sheriff while doing her best to ignore Jordan pressed up against her side, “but if you’re only going to take me home, why did I just leave my car at the bar? Do you realize what a nuisance this will be now for me to get it?”

Morgan shrugged. “Don’t worry about your car. We’ll take care of it in the morning. Isn’t that right, Jordan?”

Jordan made a noncommittal sound that she wasn’t interested in deciphering. “I don’t want you to take care of it!”

Jordan stared out his window. Morgan glanced at her, then back to the road. “Not much choice, now. There was a lot going on. I figured it’d be easier this way, rather than hassling with the arresting sheriff. He wanted you two taken off, so I took you off. And as to that, I suppose I should give you a ticket or something.” She watched the sheriff rub his thick neck, as if pondering a difficult predicament. “You see, the thing is, Jordan said you weren’t to blame and I’ve never known him to tell me a pickle. But I gotta say, I am curious as hell as to why you were picked up, why you were there in the first place, and why you’re dressed that way.”

He leaned around to see Jordan, and added, “And what the hell you’ve got to do with it.”

Though she knew the sheriff was only trying to distract her, Georgia stiffened. “He has nothing to do with me! But he did attempt to intervene…well, sort of…”

Jordan made another exasperated sound and interrupted. “I don’t need you to explain for me, Georgia.”

She shrugged, stung by his biting tone. “Fine.” Crossing her arms, she leaned back in the seat, silent again.

Morgan began to whistle. After a moment, he said thoughtfully, “I think I have it figured out.”

“Morgan,” Jordan said by way of warning.

“You’re a dancer at the bar, right?” At her stiff nod, he continued. “And Jordan here got a little too enthused over your…skill. Understandable. Although Jordan is a little slow on the uptake sometimes, at least where women are concerned—”

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

Georgia listened, fascinated despite herself.

“You see,” Morgan said in something of a whisper, leaning toward Georgia, “in the last few years my brothers and I have all tied the knot. All except Jordan, and that leaves him sort of vulnerable to all the hungry single ladies looking to get hitched. He’s so busy trying to fend them off, he’s forgotten just how pleasant a nice, warm woman can be.”

Georgia blinked. “I really don’t think—”

“It’s obvious to me that old Jordan here has lost his finesse. I’d be willing to bet he tried to defend your honor or something like that, is that right?”

Jordan growled, but Georgia paid him and his nasty temper no mind. This night had been endless and she’d had just about enough. “You think, perhaps, that I don’t have any honor to defend just because I work for a living?”

Morgan surprised her by shaking his head. “Not at all. I don’t make those type of assumptions about ladies. Malone’d have my head if I did, seeing as I once made a horrid assumption about her.”

Before she could ponder that particular scenario too long, Jordan slapped one hand down on the dash and twisted in his seat to face them both. “You want the nitty-gritty details, Morgan? Is that it?”

“Of course.”

Jordan glared at his brother, and Georgia could feel his hot breath as he leaned around her. Being stuck between these two big oafs was not her idea of fun. She pressed farther back in her seat.

“All right, fine.” The words were ground out from between clenched teeth. “She finished dancing and some bozo started groping her leg. He wouldn’t quit when she asked him to and I stepped in. Unnecessarily, it would seem, at least according to Ms. Barnes.”

Slowly, Georgia turned toward him. She heard his brother mutter, ” uh-oh” under his breath, yet all her attention was now on Jordan.

“For your information,” she said in a slow, precise tone, “I work all week in the bar as a waitress. I deal with those bozos day in and day out. I know them, and I know just how to get them to back off. Without throwing any punches or starting any riots.”

“Uh…” Morgan said, attempting to intervene, “Jordan actually punched someone?”

“Several someones!”

“Only two.”

Morgan cleared his throat. “You dress like that to serve drinks? You must make some hellacious tips.”

Contrary to what she’d just said, Georgia felt like throwing her own punch. “I dress like this to dance on the weekends because it pays a lot better than serving drinks through the week, and unlike some people—” she fried Jordan a look “—I have obligations, and have to do whatever I can to make ends meet.”

The car slowed as Morgan pulled into her driveway. Even as angry as she was, a curious peace settled over her at being home. She’d loved the big old house on sight and dreamed of renovating it into a home her kids could finally be proud of, a home that would last them forever.

It needed work, no denying that. But the yard was spacious, giving the kids plenty of room to play. And the air out here in the country was clean, fresh, putting new color in her mother’s cheeks. The house represented everything Georgia had ever wanted or needed for her family.

Her fist curled around the strap of her purse, now filled with the money that had been thrown onstage. With a little luck, a lot of determination, and enough fortitude, she could make everything right. She had to. Her options were sorely limited.

Morgan turned the car off and Georgia, pulled from her thoughts, realized Jordan was staring at her mouth. Again. Heat rushed through her like a tidal wave, stealing her breath until she nearly choked.

How did he keep doing this to her? He’d made it clear he didn’t approve of her, yet he wanted her. And if she was honest with herself, she was far too aware of him as a man. Absurd. She’d sworn off men!

“It looks to me,” Morgan said softly, “as if a couple of small obligations have been waiting for you.”

“What?” Georgia twisted around at the considering tone of the sheriff’s voice, only to see her son and daughter standing anxiously in the open doorway of the house, their noses practically pressed to the storm door. She knew in an instant that something was very wrong. They should have been long in bed. Her mother never let them to the door without her.

In a single heartbeat her distraction with Jordan disappeared, as did her exhaustion. All that remained was mind-numbing fear.

“Oh, God.” Georgia practically climbed over Jordan, who did his best to get the door open for her and to get out of her way. He didn’t even complain when her elbow clipped him in the nose and she stepped on his foot.

“Georgia, wait!”

She heard his alarmed tone as he followed her from the car, heard Morgan talking low, his words concerned. And then her daughter Lisa, only six years old, threw the front door open and dashed across the yard in her long nightgown. Georgia forgot all about the men.

“MOMMY!”

Jordan nearly slipped on the wet grass. Knowing she was a mother and seeing a little girl address her as such were two entirely different things. His heart punched hard against his ribs when Georgia dropped to her knees, unconcerned with the soggy ground, and caught her daughter up to her.

“Lisa, what is it, honey? What’s wrong?”

The little girl was crying too hard to make sense. A queer feeling of resentment—she’d left the child to dance in a bar, for God’s sake—and tenderness, seeing her now, holding the child so closely, made Jordan almost breathless. He stepped closer and with a hiccup, the little girl looked up at him. She had huge brown eyes with spiked wet lashes and was about the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

Keeping a wary gaze on him, the little girl mumbled, “Grandma is sick. She won’t wake up.”

“Oh, my God!”

Just that quick, Georgia was back on her feet. She’d picked up the little girl and was running hell-bent across the lawn. Her high heels sank into the ground, hindering her a bit, but in no way holding her back.

Jordan rushed after her, aware of Morgan right behind him. He followed her down a short hall as she called out, “Mom!” in a heart-wrenching panicked voice.

Lisa clung to Georgia’s shoulders and said in a wavering voice, “She’s in her room.”

They passed a family room with a television playing and every light on, toys all over the floor, then a dining room that held only one rickety table-still covered with dishes.

At the end of the hall, to the right, was a kitchen, and to the left, Georgia threw open a door then halted. Jordan could see her heaving, see the rigidity of her shoulders. Slowly, she set the girl on her feet and moved forward. “Mom?”

Jordan watched the little girl move to a corner, trying to make herself invisible. Beyond Georgia, lying in a rumpled bed, a slender woman of about sixty rested on her back, her eyes closed, her chest barely moving—until she started coughing.

Lisa cried. Jordan didn’t know what the hell to do. Then Morgan was there and he went down on one knee in front of Lisa. “Hi, there. I’m the sheriff and a friend of your mom’s. Are you okay?”

Lisa covered her face with her hands, hiding, and then she nodded. Seeing that Morgan had things under control there, at least as much as was possible, Jordan stepped close to Georgia and knelt by the bed. She was busy checking her mother over, her movements efficient and quick.

She glanced at Jordan. “We have to get her to the hospital. She has weak lungs and it looks like she’s gotten a bad cold or something.”

Jordan frowned in concern. “A cold can do this to her?”

“Yes.” Georgia’s voice was clipped as she moved to a portable oxygen tank and dragged it to her mother’s bedside. As she sat beside her mother and pulled her into a sitting position, the older woman’s eyes opened. Again, she started coughing.

“It’s all right now, Mom. I’m going to take you to the hospital.

“I’m sorry, honey—”

“Hey, none of that! I love you, remember?” She glanced at Jordan. “You’re going to have to take us since you left my car behind.” Then, as if just realizing it, her eyes widened in alarm and she said, “Lisa, where’s Adam?”

A small towheaded child peeked around the doorframe.

“They’re not used to men in the house,” Georgia explained, then gave her son a small smile. “Come here, sweetie. It’s okay. Grandma’s going to be fine.”

With the oxygen over her face, the older woman did seem to be breathing easier. She kept dozing off, which alarmed Jordan, but Georgia was holding it all together. The little boy inched his way in the door. He looked to be around four and clung to his mother’s knee, hiding his face in her lap.

Jordan felt thunderstruck, and at that moment, he almost hated himself.

With renewed purpose, he stood. “I can carry her out to the Bronco. Morgan—”

“I’ll call it in,” Morgan said before Jordan could finish. He smiled at the little girl and smoothed a large hand over her head. “Can you find some shoes and a jacket for you and your brother?”

She peeked between her fingers, then nodded.

“Good girl.”

Georgia smiled an absent thanks at Morgan. “Hang on, Mom. We’ll have you there in no time.”

Jordan knelt beside her and added his own arm to support her mother. “Why don’t you get her coat and shoes for her? I’ll do this.”

Georgia hesitated, her eyes on her mother’s face. “Her lungs are weak from emphysema. Sometimes, if she over-does it, she needs the oxygen so we always keep it handy. She knows—” Her voice broke and frustrated tears filled her eyes. Angrily, she swiped them away. “She knows that any kind of illness for her is serious. But…she never complains.”

Jordan watched her struggle to pull herself together. He covered her hand on the oxygen mask and asked, “Are you all right?”

Lips tightly pressed together, she nodded, then pushed to her feet. She found her mother’s slippers beneath the bed. When she started looking around the room, Jordan changed his mind on the coat.

“Let’s just wrap her in a blanket. It’ll be easier for her, and the hospital will put her in a gown when she gets there anyway.” Jordan didn’t say it out loud, but judging by the difficulty her mother had breathing, he thought she might have pneumonia. With his own brother being a doctor, he’d seen enough cases of it. Plus her skin was pale and dry and too warm, indicating a high fever.

Georgia took a deep breath and wrapped her mother in a pretty quilt. Jordan saw the tears glisten in her eyes again and knew he’d made a horrible mistake.

IT HADN’T taken long for them to be on their way. With the combined efforts of Morgan and Jordan, things had just fallen into place. They were obviously men accustomed to taking charge. Georgia didn’t know how she felt about that, but she did know she was glad not to be alone.

Lisa and Adam were buckled into the front seat with Morgan, thoroughly distracted from any worries as Morgan let them play with his radio and turn on his lights. It amazed her that a man so large, so commanding, could summon up such a gentle tone for children. Right now, as he smiled at Adam, he looked like a big pushover, when her first impression of him would never have allowed for such a possibility.

He’d already spoken with the hospital and they were ready and waiting for them to arrive. The flashing lights, which amused her kids, were necessary; Morgan drove well past the speed limit. But at this time of night, the streets were almost clear of traffic.

“It’s usually about an hour’s drive to the hospital.” Jordan watched her closely as he spoke, but then, he’d hardly taken his gaze off her since she’d first noticed him at the bar. “At least from our house. But I’d say you’re fifteen minutes closer, and with Morgan driving and no cars on the road, it shouldn’t take much longer.”

Georgia realized he was trying to put her at ease. She appreciated his efforts. Morgan’s, too. The kids, after their initial bout of shyness and upset, had taken to him with hardly any reserve. He had an easy way about him that would naturally draw kids.

She had a feeling Jordan would be the same when he wasn’t busy tending to her mother’s care. She’d seen how he’d looked at her children, the softness in his eyes. He was a man of contradictions—harsh one minute, soft the next. Always strong and confident.

At the moment, with her knees shaking and her heart beating too fast, she resented his strength even as she relied on it. She had to be strong. And she never wanted to depend on another man for anything.

They sat in the back, her mother propped between them on the carpeted floor of the storage area. Georgia supported her mother with an arm around her waist, offering her shoulder to lean on.

Streetlamps glowed, their lights flashing into the moving car with a strobe effect. They cast dark, shifting shadows over Jordan’s profile, but in no way detracted from his look of genuine concern. He was an incredibly handsome man, Georgia decided, and obviously very caring.

“Almost there,” he said with a reassuring smile. “Just hang on.” His mesmerizing voice soothed her as nothing else could. Even her mother, dozing and waking every few minutes, wasn’t immune to it. Georgia held her close, but it was Jordan’s hand she gripped like a lifeline, his voice that occasionally coerced her eyes open.

Georgia leaned close and kissed her mother’s cheek. Everything would be all right. She had to believe that.

JORDAN KEPT HOLD of the woman’s limp hand while watching her closely for any signs of distress. Her breathing was still ragged, occasionally racked by harsh coughing, but the oxygen had helped. That, and the fact that she knew she was almost at the hospital.

Georgia looked like hell. Though she tried to hide it, her own distress far outweighed her mother’s. At that moment, Jordan wanted so badly to hold her close, to protect her. There seemed to be so much he hadn’t understood. Her house was a shambles, inside and out. It had potential, but it would take a lot of sweat and money to make it what it could be.

Her children, adorable little moppets who had taken a cautious liking to Morgan, had her look about them. Lisa had the same golden-brown hair, though long enough to be in a braid, and Adam’s hair was pale blond. They both had brown eyes, not Georgia’s gray-blue, but the intensity in their gazes was the same as hers.

How the hell did she keep it all together? Between being a single parent of two young children, and her mother’s health, not to mention the work needed on her house, she had her hands full.

He couldn’t keep his gaze off her and glanced at her again just as she rubbed one tear-filled eye with a fist. She’d done that several times, refusing to let the tears fall, never mind that she had good reason, that most women would have bowed under the stress of the night. Her makeup was an absolute mess, leaving dark smudges on her cheeks and all around her eyes. Jordan reached into his pocket and retrieved a hanky.

“Hey,” he said softly, and Georgia pulled her gaze away from her mother long enough to send him a questioning look.

He reached over and used the edge of the cotton hanky to wipe her eyes. “You look like a Halloween cat,” he teased, and she gave him the first sincere smile he’d seen. It about stopped his heart. In that moment, with smeared makeup, rain-frazzled hair and a red nose, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Taking the hanky from him, she scrubbed at her face, removing the worst of the smudges. “I hate this stupid makeup, but Bill insists.” She grinned at her mother and added, “She gives me heck about it all the time. According to Mom, I look like a call girl. But then, I suppose that’s Bill’s intent.”

Jordan glanced at the front seat. Luckily, her kids were oblivious to the conversation. “What do you tell them?”

Almost immediately her expression turned carefully blank. She adjusted the quilt over her mother’s shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. “That I have to work. That I’m a dancer. They’ve seen Muppets On Ice and think it’s something like that.”

She shrugged and Jordan suddenly realized she was still wearing only his coat over a very revealing, enticing costume. He wanted to curse his own stupidity. Why the hell hadn’t he thought to grab her some decent clothes before they’d left the house? Everyone in the hospital would be staring at her.

As if she’d read his thoughts, she said, “It doesn’t matter.” She leaned over her mother, saw that her eyes were open and alert and smiled. “Does it, Mom?”

The older woman tried for her own smile beneath the oxygen mask, and gave one slight, negative shake of her head.

Georgia sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Mom? You’re just too darn good to me.”

Her mother gave her a ferocious frown, and Georgia’s eyes filled with new tears. She laughed to cover them up. “No, don’t yell at me. Just save your breath.”

Jordan couldn’t bear to see her pain. “It’ll be all right, Georgia.”

“Yes, of course it will.” She looked up at him. “I just thought of something. You two haven’t been introduced. Mom, this is Jordan Sommerville, White Knight extraordinaire. And that hulk driving—don’t know if you got a good look at him, but he is a hulk—he’s Morgan Hudson, Jordan’s half brother and the sheriff of Buckhorn. Jordan, this is Ruth Samson.”

Jordan nodded his head formally. “Glad to make your acquaintance, Ms. Samson.” He didn’t bother to tell Georgia that she needn’t have explained his relationship to Morgan quite so precisely. They’d all been raised together, and were as close as any full-blooded brothers could be.

“Speaking of brothers,” Morgan said from the front seat as he handed a cell phone over his shoulder to Jordan, “call Gabe and tell him to go sit on Malone. I don’t want her up running around.”

Jordan took the phone, and then noticed the look of guilt on Georgia’s face. Their eyes met and she winced.

“I’m sorry you got pulled away from your wife, sheriff.”

Morgan blared his sirens for a second as he rolled through a red light, alerting any traffic and making the kids squeal. He said to Georgia, “Don’t worry about it. Gabe can handle things. And Malone will understand. She’s stubborn, but she has an enormous heart.”

“He’s madly in love,” Jordan said dryly, explaining away his brother’s description of his wife. He dialed the phone and Gabe immediately answered. Jordan skipped the niceties and asked, “Who’s with Misty?”

“Lizzy’s looking after her,” Gabe said, then: “We’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

Jordan covered the phone and said to Morgan, “Elizabeth’s with her.”

“Not good enough. Malone can bulldoze her. Tell Gabe to go.”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “Morgan wants you to go sit on Misty and make certain she stays in bed.”

“I will. But do you need anything? Misty said you were brawling at a bar or something.”

There was an undertone of laughter in his youngest brother’s voice. “No, I was not brawling.”

He’d thought Georgia was distracted, but at his words, one slim brow went up. Jordan shook his head and explained as briefly as possible what they were doing. “We’ll be at the hospital in just a few minutes.”

Gabe whistled low. “Damn. You want me to send Casey over there? He just got home from a date. His car is still warm.”

Jordan thought about it for two seconds. “Yeah, that might not be a bad idea.” He eyed Georgia’s mostly naked legs and exposed cleavage. Turning slightly away from her, he muttered, “Have Casey bring a change of clothes, okay? From one of the women.” Then he rethought that and added, “Make it a big shirt, maybe one of yours or Sawyer’s.”

“Chesty, is she?”

“Yeah.”

Through an undertone of laughter, Gabe said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks. I imagine we’ll be at the hospital for a spell, and I know Morgan would like to head home.”

Morgan heard him and said, “Hey, I’m in no rush.” But Jordan knew that he was, that he wanted to be with Misty and Amber. A more doting father and husband had never been created.

“Will do,” Gabe said. “Tell Morgan not to worry—and if you need me just give a buzz.”

“Thanks, Gabe.” He closed the phone and turned to Georgia as Morgan pulled into the hospital lot.

She tilted her head. “Another brother?”

“The youngest, and most recently married. With only one anniversary to his credit, Gabe still considers himself a newlywed. He’s sending my nephew, Casey, here. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought he could bring you—”

“Clothes. I heard.”

She hadn’t quite looked at him and it frustrated him. “Look, Georgia, I don’t mean to criticize exactly—”

She interrupted his awkward explanation. “Believe me, I’ll be grateful to get into something different.” She glanced down at her own breasts and made a sound of disgust. “I don’t wear this stuff by choice.”

Jordan nodded, uncertain what he could say to that. She looked hot enough to tempt a saint, and he supposed that was the main reason for wearing the outfit on stage.

To his surprise, she said, “Thanks for thinking of it.”

“No problem.” With her sitting so close to him, and having so much skin exposed, it was a wonder he’d been able to think of anything else. “Unfortunately, it’ll take Case a little while to get here.”

Morgan pulled right up to the emergency entrance, and what with his flashing lights and the earlier call, it only took about fifteen seconds before a stretcher was rolled out to the Bronco and Ruth was being taken inside.

Georgia looked overwhelmed by the speed at which things were happening. She rushed to get her kids out of the car, trying to reassure them and keep sight of her mother as she was being whisked away.

Jordan touched her arm as she started to lift Adam from the front seat. “Go on, Georgia.” She glanced up at him, clearly distracted. “Get your mother settled and appease the hospital officials with all the paperwork they’ll need. The kids and I will meet you in the waiting room when you’re done.”

She looked at him as though he was insane, cuddling her children closer in a protective gesture and attempting to walk around him. Jordan moved to her side and kept pace with her hurried stride. Both kids stumbled along while staring up at him.

Just as the automatic entry doors opened with a swoosh, he heard Morgan call out that he’d park and be right in. Jordan waved him off.

“Georgia…”

Her high heels clicked on the tiled floor. “Come on, kids. We have to hurry.”

There was a note of brittle urgency in her voice that tortured him. No woman should ever be put in such a position. Jordan again took her arm, this time pulling her to a stop. The children seemed fascinated. “Georgia, listen to me.”

Utter exasperation, exhaustion, and near panic filled her face. “What?”

Well aware of the kids’ engrossed attention, and at how close Georgia was to losing it, Jordan spoke softly, giving her a very direct look. “You can trust me, sweetheart. I swear it.”

She shook her head, her face pale.

“We’ll be in the waiting room,” he added, ignoring her refusal, “just around the corner, drinking hot chocolate and watching television and talking.” He reached out for Lisa’s hand, praying she wouldn’t shy away from him, and let out a breath when she released her mother and moved to his side. Her shy smile showed one missing front tooth.

Jordan enclosed her tiny hand in his own. To Georgia, he said, “Did I tell you my oldest brother is a doctor? Well he is. Everyone at the hospital knows Sawyer, though he’s always chosen to work from home, treating the people of Buckhorn. He has an office at the back of the house. His son, Casey, is the one who’s bringing you some clothes.”

She looked around and bit her lip when she saw her mother being wheeled beyond a thick white door. A nurse stood there, papers in hand, waiting for Georgia.

Jordan felt something against his side and looked down. Adam, chewing on the edge of his coat collar and staring up with big brown eyes, leaned trustingly against Jordan’s thigh. His heart swelled with an indefinable affection. He put his hand on the boy’s downy head and said again, “You can trust me, Georgia.”

She wavered, probably aware she had few choices, then dropped to her knees. Pulling the coat collar from Adam’s mouth, she said, “If you have to use the bathroom, or get hungry, tell Mr. Sommerville, okay?”

Adam nodded, then gave her a huge hug. Lisa was next. “We’ll drink hot chocolate,” she said, mimicking Jordan.

Georgia’s smile was misty. “Okay, sweetie, but not too much. It’ll keep you awake.”

Adam tilted his head. “But we can’t sleep here, huh?”

“Sure you can.” Georgia grinned, kissed him again, then stood. “There’s probably a nice soft couch for you to get comfy on. If you get tired, just close your eyes and pretend you’re at home. And before you know it, I’ll be right back.”

Jordan watched her stride quickly to the desk, her legs looking absurdly long in the high heels. Her shoulders were stiff beneath his jacket, her hands fisted on the strap of her purse. Every line of her body bespoke tension and exhaustion and fear.

A nurse, repeatedly looking Georgia over in her sexy costume, waited for her behind the desk. After Georgia had seated herself and began digging through her purse, no doubt hunting up an insurance card for her mother, Jordan looked down at the kids. Adam raised his arms and, without thinking about it, Jordan lifted the boy. He was stocky, more compact than his sister who looked almost fey she was so slight. Small arms wrapped around his neck.

“Hot chocolate,” Adam said, trying for an adolescent dose of subtlety, “sure sounds good.” Jordan bit back a smile. It didn’t make any sense and he knew he must be losing his mind, but despite all the chaos, despite the horrid situation and his worry for Georgia and his disapproval of where she worked, he felt good, from the inside out.

Probably better than he had in months.

Oh, hell.

CASEY PULLED IN the hospital parking lot and turned off the engine. He’d driven his father’s car, a spacious sedan, rather than the truck he usually favored. As he understood it, Jordan was with a woman and her two children—too many people to fit into the truck. He was anxious to hear what story his uncle Jordan told to explain all this.

But for the moment he was more concerned with how to handle Emma Clark.

The truck, being a stick shift, would have guaranteed some space between them. But the car had bench seats, and Emma scooted much too close. She smelled nice, damp from the outdoors and sweet like a female. He was far from immune. She reached for his knee before he could open his door.

“Just a second, Case.” Her voice was low, throaty. “Why’re you in such a hurry?”

Very calmly, Casey took her wrist and lifted her hand away. She was the most brazen girl he knew, and the most insecure. It was something in her big brown eyes, something she tried real hard to hide.

Twining his fingers with hers, he couldn’t help but notice how small boned she was, how her hand felt tiny in his own. “It’s almost one in the morning, Emma.” The parking lot was well lit, sending slashes of light across her features, making her eyes look even bigger than usual. “What were you doing out on the road alone?”

She rolled one shoulder beneath the shirt he’d insisted she put on. He’d been left in nothing more than an undershirt, but that was better than seeing her traipse around half-naked. He still couldn’t believe she’d been moseying down the damn highway so late, wearing her short white shorts, sandals, and a hot-pink halter top that left more bare than it covered. He’d recognized her world-class behind the moment his headlights had hit her. Of course he’d offered her a ride.

Of course she’d accepted. Emma had been after him for months.

“A shrug is not an answer, Em.”

She shrugged again, smiling at him and flipping her bleached-blond hair behind her. Casey assumed her natural hair color was a dark brown, judging by her brows and thick lashes. Although that could be makeup, too. She wore a lot of it. She looked…brassy. Almost cheap. And though he had no intention of telling her so, she made him sweat.

“I got mad at my date,” she said in her low drawl, “so I took off.” Her mouth, shiny with lip gloss that a few of the guys had told him tasted like cherries, tilted up at the corners. “Why d’you care?”

Casey snorted at that lame explanation and defensive response, deciding not to question her further. At seventeen, Emma’s idea of a date was to be picked up long enough to add to her already questionable reputation, then get dropped off again. He’d never understand her, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for her.

Just as he couldn’t help wanting her.

“C’mon. I need to get inside.” When he got out of the car, she scrambled out, too, and rushed around to him.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

He pulled the bag of clothes from the back seat, sparing her a quick glance. “It’s really none of my business, Emma.”

She looked hurt for a moment, then the shirt slid off her shoulder and his gaze dropped to her scantily covered chest. He turned abruptly away.

She ran to keep up with him as he headed inside. Thankfully it had stopped raining, but the air felt too cool and still too damp. Water dripped from every tree, shrub and building. He felt a bit chilled. Or at least he had moments ago, before he’d noticed that the night air had caused her nipples to tighten.

He wouldn’t look at her there again.

Once inside, he made his way to the waiting room, where he assumed he’d find his uncles. His stride was long, a little too fast, but a small smile curled his mouth as he remembered Gabe relaying the evening’s events. His uncle Jordan in a fight? It sounded absurd, although he’d grown up hearing stories of the few occasions when Jordan had lost it, giving into his fierce temper. It wasn’t something Casey had ever seen, but he’d believed it was possible.

Jordan was just so…intense. Especially about things he really believed in.

Or people he cared about.

Casey rounded the corner to the open waiting area and stopped short at the sight of Jordan with a little boy sound asleep in his lap. There was a chocolate mustache on the kid, and he was snoring softly. Casey grinned. Jordan had a poleaxed expression on his face, as if deep in thought.

Morgan sat on the floor opposite a tiny girl with a glass-topped coffee table between them, playing Go Fish. Casey had stopped so abruptly, Emma bumped into his back. His breath caught as he felt her soft, young body flush against his. Her hands settled low on his hips and she went on tiptoe, her warm lips touching his ear as she whispered, “Sorry.”

Casey ignored her.

“Have I missed anything important?”

Jordan glanced up, then raised one finger to his mouth, cautioning Casey to be quiet. Carefully, his movements very slow, Jordan removed the bundle from his lap and put the boy on the couch. He covered him with his coat. With a wide yawn and a little squirreling around, the kid resettled himself into a rolled-up lump and dozed off again.

Morgan laid his cards down and pushed to his feet. “‘Bout time you got here.” He nodded to the little girl. “Lisa here is a card shark.”

Lisa—long brown hair in disheveled braids—grinned at what she obviously considered a compliment. Morgan tugged on one of those braids with affection. “Maybe she’ll be gentler with you, Casey.”

Casey leaned in the wide door frame. “I dunno. She’s got that ruthless look about her.”

Lisa looked up at him, blinked, and kept on looking. Like a natural-born flirt, she batted her long eyelashes at Casey and gave him a wide, adoring grin. She even sighed.

Morgan turned to Jordan. “Would you look at that? She’s only six and even she’s smitten by him.”

Jordan grunted. “He’s worse than Gabe.”

“Or better.”

Casey laughed out loud, well used to their razzing. “Kids just like me.”

Morgan looked at him from under his brows. “Females just like you, you mean.”

Casey shrugged. It was true, as far as it went. The females did seem to like him. Since he’d first become a teenager, they’d been after him. Not that he had any intentions of getting permanently caught.

Morgan glanced around the waiting room. It looked like chaos with empty foam cups and candy wrappers and kids shoes on the floor. “You okay here now,” he asked Jordan, “or do you want me to stick around?”

Jordan stretched tiredly. “We’re fine. Go on home. You’re starting to get worry lines.”

Case walked the rest of the way into the room, keeping his voice as low as his uncles’. “And here I thought those were laugh lines caused by his sunny disposition.” Morgan swatted at Casey, making him duck. “Gabe told me to tell you that Misty is sound asleep, konked out from the medicine Sawyer gave her, so you don’t have to keep fretting.”

Morgan’s shoulders—wide as an ax handle—softened with relief. “And Amber?”

Thoughts of his little cousin, now nearing the terrible twos, which on her weren’t so terrible, made Casey chuckle. “She wore herself out chasing Gabe in a pillow fight. Last I saw her, she was as zonked as the little guy there.” He indicated the boy on the couch.

Jordan rubbed his chin, appearing somewhat exhausted and ultimately pleased at the same time. It was a strange expression for him. “That’s Adam, Georgia’s son.”

“Georgia?”

Morgan leaned forward and said in a whisper, “The bar dancer who Jordan fought over.”

“I did not fight over her.”

“Shh!” Morgan gave him a severe frown for his raised voice.

Jordan glanced at Lisa, who was oblivious as she attempted to shuffle the cards, which sent them all flying to the floor. “It was a misunderstanding,” he growled in a lowered voice.

Casey noticed his uncle’s color was a bit high and choked back a grin. “Hey, whatever you say, Jordan.”

Morgan shook his head, then looked beyond Casey with a questioning frown. Casey turned and saw that Emma had backed up until she was against the wall beside a plastic floor plant. It almost seemed she was trying to be invisible, which of course was impossible for a girl who looked like Emma.

He frowned. So brazen one minute—especially when they were alone—and so timid the next.

He held out his hand. “Emma, have you met my uncles?”

Her big brown eyes widened at the attention given to her, and she swallowed hard. For the first time that Casey could ever remember, her face turned bright red. “I’ve…um, that is, I know who they are of course, but we’ve never actually been introduced or anything.”

Since Casey still stood there with his hand out, she finally stepped forward and took it, the embarrassed heat positively pulsing in her cheeks.

He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, trying to reassure her. Damned if he knew why. “Emma, my uncle Jordan and my uncle Morgan.”

Strangely enough, she did an awkward curtsy of sorts, then looked appalled at herself. “Uh,…hi.”

Morgan grinned, which always made him look menacing. “You two out on a late date?”

“No.” Casey turned her loose so fast, both his uncles scowled at him. He hadn’t meant to hold her hand anyway. “I just picked her up.”

Jordan raised both brows at that.

Emma pulled the shirt tight around her and folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Casey is just…giving me a ride. Home, I mean.”

“But you live in Buckhorn,” Morgan pointed out. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah.” Even her neck turned red. “I was…um, headed that way, but Casey said he needed to come here first, then he’d drop me off later.”

Morgan glanced at Casey, then back at Emma. “If you’re in a hurry to get home, I can drop you off on my way. I’m heading out now.”

Jordan made a disgusted sound and stepped in front of Morgan. Casey knew he was trying to shield Emma, since Morgan tended to always look a bit like a marauder. “You and Casey can both head out. I think they’ll probably get Georgia’s mother settled in her own room soon.”

Emma glanced at Casey. He took his time thinking about it, not wanting to embarrass her, but not wanting to give her the wrong impression either. “You want to call your folks first, so they won’t be worrying?”

“No.”

She said that far too quickly and Jordan and Morgan shared a look. It didn’t surprise Casey; he’d already figured out Emma’s home life wasn’t exactly ideal. If it had been, no way would she have been walking home alone at this time of night. Or done half the other things her reputation suggested. He turned back to his uncles.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to stick around, Jordan?”

Jordan gave Casey a searching look before he shook his head. “We’ll be fine.”

As Casey handed him the keys to the car, Morgan took Jordan’s arm. “I want to talk to Jordan for just a minute, Case. Can you keep an eye on the kids?”

Lisa looked up and sighed at him again. Casey smiled. “No problem.”

“Thanks. I’ll bring the Bronco around and wait out front for you both.”

THEY WERE barely around the corner when Morgan asked, “What the hell is Casey doing out so late with that girl?”

Jordan shrugged. “Hell if I know. But I don’t think there’s anything going on between them.”

“Why not?”

“She doesn’t look like his usual type.”

Morgan snorted. “Like Georgia is your usual type?”

Jordan almost faltered. He did frown. “Who says I’m even interested?”

Morgan came to a complete stop and turned to give Jordan an incredulous look. “Well, let’s see. You can’t look at her without tensing up. And that hard-on you had while arguing with her might be a good clue.”

Jordan flushed. And it made him madder than hell, because not a single one of his other damned brothers would have. They’d have grinned, hell, they might’ve even bragged. They would not, however, have turned red. But Jordan wasn’t at all pleased that all he had to do was breathe in Georgia’s scent and he wanted her. Bad.

Morgan shook his head. “It’s a full moon tonight, did you know that? Maybe that accounts for a few things. Like Casey showing up with a girl that I know damn good and well has a reputation that far exceeds the one Gabe had at her age. And that’s saying something.”

“Are you sure about that?” Jordan frowned, concern for his nephew overshadowing his embarrassment. And talking about Casey was definitely preferable to talking about himself. Or Georgia. Or him and Georgia.

“Yeah. It’s a long sad story and I’m too damn tired to go into it tonight. Besides, I reckon Casey has a handle on things. Though she’s not eighteen yet, so if you get the chance, warn him to be careful, okay?”

Jordan nodded. While Casey was only eighteen himself, he gave the impression of being much, much older.

“At least it’s stopped raining.” The doors slid open as Morgan approached them. He looked outside, giving Jordan his back as he surveyed the starless sky. With a nonchalance that didn’t fool Jordan for a minute, Morgan asked, “Should we expect you back at the house tonight?”

Jordan hadn’t really thought about it, but now that he did…He dropped his head forward, brooding. His muscles felt tight and he rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension.

But there was no hope for it. “She doesn’t have a car,” he said, stating an obvious fact. “Hers is still at the bar.”

Morgan nodded. “I know.”

“It doesn’t seem right to leave her and two kids at a house alone, with no transportation. What if something happened? What if she no sooner got home and her mother needed her?”

“And odds are,” Morgan interjected, going right along with him, “even if her mother rests easy tonight, Georgia’ll still want to check on her first thing in the morning, so she’ll probably need a ride. Assuming you all get to go home tonight at all.” Morgan faced him again. “I can’t see you leaving her here alone.”

“No, I wouldn’t do that.” Jordan gestured at the mostly quiet hospital. “With the kids and everything….”

“Yeah.” Morgan tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “So I guess we’ll see ya sometime in the morning.” He stepped into the open doorway. “Let me know tomorrow if there’s something I can do to help.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and Jordan?”

Wishing his damn brother would just go away, Jordan raised a brow. “What?”

Morgan grinned. “It’s going to get worse before it gets better. I just thought I should let you know that.”

Jordan stiffened. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“On the contrary, I married Malone, didn’t I? I know exactly what I’m talking about. And my advice would be not to fight it.”

“It?”

“The whole chemistry thing.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

Morgan shrugged. “You should just give up right now, and save yourself a pound of heartache. Tell her what it is you want. Be up front with her.”

Tell her that he wanted to strip her naked? That he wanted to bury himself inside her and spend all night finding ways to make her climax—and the fact that she was a mother, that she danced for drunks, that she didn’t appear to particularly like him, hadn’t blunted his need one bit? “She has two children, Morgan.”

“So? She’s still sexy as hell. Any man who’s seen her in that getup she’s wearing tonight can damn sure vouch for that. Besides, the more you fight it, the worse it is. You’re caught. You might as well accept it.”

Morgan walked away before Jordan could correct him, before he could assure him that he wasn’t caught at all! He was turned on, to where he couldn’t seem to stop shaking, to stop wanting.

But that was all it was.

Hell, Morgan had taken one look at Misty Malone and started acting the fool. He’d fallen head over ass for her in a single heartbeat.

But he wasn’t Morgan. Just as he wasn’t Sawyer or Gabe. He wasn’t looking for a wife, had no desire for home and hearth, and even if he was, Georgia wouldn’t qualify as wifely material. Not for him.

Still, maybe Morgan was right. What did he have to lose if he told her flat out that he wanted her? She had reacted to him, he wasn’t imagining that. Maybe that chemistry mumbo jumbo had some truth to it. Maybe she wouldn’t mind an uninvolved sexual relationship.

Jordan swallowed hard at the mere thought, imagining her saying yes, imagining her peeling off that skimpy costume for him….

Oh, hell. Her outfit. If she came back to the waiting room before Jordan could head her off and give her the change of clothes, who knew how Casey might react. There was no doubt he’d be surprised, because who would expect a woman to be running around a hospital dressed as she was?

He didn’t want Casey to accidentally hurt her feelings with his shock. And he didn’t want his nephew ogling her either.

Unfortunately, Jordan reached the waiting room just in time to see Georgia stumble over her own feet. She stared toward Casey, who’d stood when she entered the room.

“Who,” Georgia asked, eyeing the way her daughter clung to Casey’s hand, “are you?”

“He’s Casey,” Lisa said.

Casey smoothed his dark blond hair out of his eyes, then held out his free hand. “I gather you’re Lisa’s mother?”

Georgia looked mesmerized, then gave him her hand. She tipped her head back to see Casey’s face, before looking him over with awe. “Why, I wonder, did I think you’d look like an average kid?”

Casey grinned, showing off his killer smile and shaking her hand gently. “I don’t know, ma’am.”

“Is the whole family like you?”

Emma, who had been sitting quietly on the couch by Adam’s feet, spoke up. “Yes, they are.”

“Incredible.”

Jordan stepped up behind her. “Casey brought you a change of clothes.”

“Oh, yeah.” Casey reached for the bag and offered it to her. “Honey, my stepmother, wasn’t sure what size you might be, so she told me to apologize and explain that she sent things that would adjust.” To Jordan, he said, “She refused to send her a man’s shirt.”

Georgia looked into the bag and pulled out white, elastic waist cotton slacks, a soft pink cotton T-shirt, and a long sleeved matching cardigan. There was even a pair of slip-on casual canvas shoes.

She glanced back up at Casey with a grateful smile. “Please be sure to tell her how much I appreciate this. And I promise to return the clothes right away.”

Casey skipped a look toward Jordan before smiling. “You can tell her yourself. She said to invite you and your family over to the big cookout at the end of the month. Honey likes to show all our neighbors how much she appreciates them by having this huge get-together. It worked out real well last year, so she wants to make it a traditional gathering.”

Jordan choked and considered stuffing Casey into the damn bag. Georgia, he noticed, looked panicked.

“But…” She sputtered, her gray eyes wide, “We’re not neighbors!”

“You live in Buckhorn?”

Georgia nodded.

“Close enough.” He ignored Jordan when he added, “You don’t have to wait till then to visit though. Our house is pretty far off the main road without any other houses close by. Honey said to tell you she’d love the company anytime you feel up to visiting.”

Lisa clapped her hands together, staring with naked adoration toward Casey. “Can we, Mommy, please, please, please?”

“But…”

Casey ruffled Lisa’s hair, then turned to the couch, caught Emma’s hand and pulled her to her feet. She tried to hang onto his hand, but Casey made that impossible. “We’ve got to go before Morgan leaves without us.”

Georgia hustled after him. “Wait! Please, tell your stepmother—”

“Honey.”

“Yes, well, tell Honey that I appreciate the offer, but I can’t possibly come.”

“Jordan’ll bring you.” Casey stared at Jordan, knowing exactly what he was doing. His brown eyes warmed to glittering amber as he said, “He wouldn’t want to disappoint Honey.”

Keeping a relationship purely sexual, Jordan thought, would be pretty damn tough if the whole family got to know her. But then he looked at Lisa, and he gave up with a sound somewhere between a growl and a sigh. “No, I don’t want to disappoint Honey.”

Georgia held the clothes clutched to her spectacular chest, her pale gray eyes flared with dismay, her golden brown hair practically standing on end.

And perversely, Jordan said, “I insist. It’ll be fun.”

“But…”

He turned away and bid Casey and Emma good-night, noticing that Casey was staying just out of Emma’s reach. He shook his head.

“What?”

Georgia stood beside him. He could smell her, warm and sweet, and he wanted to press his nose into her neck, taste her skin. “My nephew,” he said in a rough voice, filled with lust, though she didn’t seem to know it, “didn’t even notice what you’re wearing.”

He hadn’t quite realized it until he said it. But not once did Casey look her over. He’d kept his gaze respectfully on her face, his manner as polite and friendly as ever.

Georgia looked down at herself. “I know you think I should be embarrassed.” She met his gaze, her eyes now somber, sad. “But I’m just too worried.”

Jordan touched her cheek. That didn’t seem like enough so he put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the chair Casey had just vacated. Luckily, there was no one else in this particular waiting room. Earlier a man had come in with a badly cut finger, and a woman had shown up with a twisted ankle. But they had each been attended to and no one had shown up since.

Once Georgia was seated, her hands twisting in the clothing Honey had sent, Jordan asked, “What did they say about your mother? How is she?”

He knelt in front of her, unable to stop touching her. This time his hands rested on her knees. Her skin was so incredibly warm, so silky, he wanted to part her thighs, wanted to tip up her face and kiss her deeply as he moved between her legs. Her thighs were strong, he’d seen that as she danced, and he could only imagine how tightly she’d hold him.

She didn’t seem to notice his touch or his preoccupation, or else she didn’t care.

Jordan shook himself. Adam snored nearby on the couch and Lisa was starting to get bored with the cards. She’d taken to deliberately scattering them, and the last time they’d flown everywhere, she hadn’t bothered to pick them back up.

He had to get hold of himself. Lusting after a woman in front of her children wasn’t something he ever would have done. He wouldn’t do it now. Out of all the brothers, he was the one most circumspect, most discerning.

“Will she be all right, Georgia?”

Georgia nodded. “Mom has emphysema. My father was a big cigar smoker and they say it was his secondhand smoke that…” She looked furious for a moment, then started over. “She’s never been a smoker herself. In fact she hates the things.”

“Me, too.” He took one of her hands, and she didn’t pull away.

“They think she has bronchitis. With her lung disease, that’s a big problem. They’re going to keep her a few days, put her on IV antibiotics, do a breathing treatment every four hours or so. As soon as they get her settled in her room and I make sure she’s got everything she needs, I’ll be able to head home. I just don’t want to go until I know—”

“Of course not. There’s no rush.”

She gave him a distracted, grateful nod.

“When was the last time you ate?”

She looked at him as if he were crazy. “I’m not hungry. But the kids…” She glanced over at the couch. Jordan looked, too. Lisa was still sitting on the floor, but she’d slumped sideways, sound asleep, her head mere inches from her brother’s big toe.

Jordan grinned. “I fed them. It wasn’t the most nutritional meal going. Just sub sandwiches from the vending machine with chips and hot chocolate.”

She rubbed her forehead with a shaking hand. “I should have thought of it. Thank you. It didn’t even occur to me…”

“Hey.” Jordan leaned lower to see her averted face. Very gently he touched her chin. “You had your hands full.”

“I’ll pay you back. How much was it?”

Her polite query set his teeth on edge. “I don’t want your money, Georgia.”

To his surprise, she came to her feet, making him quickly stand so he wouldn’t be stampeded. “It’s not your job to take care of my children.”

Jordan crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her, studying her set expression. “I don’t mind helping out.”

Her soft lips flattened into a hard line. The way she squeezed Honey’s clothes, they’d be all wrinkled by the time she got them on. Not that he was in any hurry for her to change now that they were virtually alone. The kids were asleep, Casey and Morgan had left, the hospital was quiet.

She looked incredible, sexy and tousled and earthy. His breath came a little faster. “You’re going to need more help, you know.”

She rounded on him, nearly dropping the clothes. Her eyes, circled with smeared mascara and exhaustion, turned stormy gray. She kept her voice low, but it sounded like a growl. “We’ll manage just fine.”

“Georgia…”

Her chin lifted. “You can leave now. I’m sorry I kept you so long. I lost track of the time, but now that I know my mother will be all right, I can—”

Very gently, he interrupted her. “You know I’m not going to leave.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s…” She looked around for a clock.

“It’s very late.” Jordan kept his tone soft and easy, soothing her. He had no idea why she’d suddenly turned defensive, except that she probably hadn’t eaten for a while, her mother was sick, and she’d nearly been arrested.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about getting her naked and under him. Or over him. Or…

He felt like a complete bastard. “Listen to me, Georgia.” He waited until her eyes lifted to his. “I’m going to drive you home after everything is taken care of here.”

“Why?” She stared at him, her face flushed. “You don’t even know me. And what you do know about me, you disapprove of. You certainly don’t owe me anything.”

“Georgia.” He said her name like a caress. He didn’t mean to, but he did. “No man would leave you here alone like this.”

She laughed at that, a mean, bitter laugh. “You are so wrong.”

It took a lot of effort not to get riled, not to react to his sudden suspicions. But she was too upset right now, too overwhelmed, for him to start interrogating her. There’d be plenty of time for him to learn more about her past later. He’d see to that. “How else would you get home?”

“We can take a cab.” She drew a shuddering breath. “Since I got my money from Bill, I can easily afford—”

Jordan took her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, leaning down so that he could whisper. The very last thing he wanted to do was wake the children.

Her eyelashes fluttered at his nearness, but she didn’t look into his eyes. She stared at his mouth instead.

“I’m taking you home, Georgia. Accept it. We’ll get your car tomorrow and then you can check on your mother and, after all that, we’ll talk about the cookout my family has planned.”

She covered her ears with her hands and pulled away. “I have to change now. Will you…” She made a disgusted sound. “Will you stay here with Lisa and Adam?”

“Of course.” Why was she covering her ears? It wasn’t like he’d been being abusive. He’d offered her help. He’d been gentle, calm. He hadn’t told her that he wanted her, that just touching her damn shoulders and bringing her close had nearly driven him to his knees and made him semierect.

He watched her walk away, and decided that he would tell her. Tonight.

He wasn’t at all sure he could last another day this way.

THE CAR RIDE home was mostly silent. There wasn’t a single other vehicle on the road, the kids were sound asleep and the clouds had finally cleared enough to let the moonlight dance over the wet streets. Overall, it was a sleepy, relaxing, lulling ride.

But she was far from relaxed. “Jordan…I’m sorry I lost my temper with you.”

Jordan glanced at her as if surprised that she’d spoken. Aside from getting her arrested, he’d been wonderful, and she’d been a raving bitch. All because he scared her.

And when she was around him, she scared herself. The man didn’t need to say anything important, not even anything seductive, and she wanted him. An intolerable situation, and she was far too tired to deal with it.

She could hear the smile in his mellow, mesmeric voice when he spoke. “No problem. You’ve had a rough day.”

Georgia made a sound of agreement, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t look at him, if she didn’t see his wide, hard shoulders, the thickness of his muscled forearms, the way his light brown hair caught the moonlight and how deep, how seductive his green eyes were when he turned them toward her—well, maybe it would help. But she doubted it. He was a sinfully gorgeous male, tall and strong and hard, but she’d seen strong attractive men before, dealt with them every night at the bar. No, it was much more than Jordan’s looks, much more than his physical attributes.

All the man had to do was mutter two syllables and she wanted to melt. Something about his voice affected her deep down inside, stripping away her defenses. It made her imagine awful, wonderful things.

She shook her head, more at herself than anything he did or said. “I appreciate the ride home. And how you carried the kids out. I could have managed, but—”

“But you’ve had enough to deal with.” He reached across the seat and his large hand squeezed her shoulder. Even through the borrowed T-shirt, his touch was electric. She caught her breath, not wanting him to know how he affected her, how amazingly turned on she was even at this moment.

She’d had very little sleep over the past two days. She’d worked a double shift and dealt with the threat of being arrested, then the gut-wrenching fear over her mother’s health. She had no idea how she was going to manage to work and take care of her mother at the hospital, with no baby-sitter. Things looked very grim.

But still she wanted him when she never wanted any guy. She’d long since considered herself immune to the normal urges most women felt. So what if Jordan was an uncommonly patient and wonderful man? She shouldn’t care that he was gorgeous and as finely built as a Greek statue, or that he had a voice warm enough to melt butter.

She knew he disapproved of her, and that should have taken care of the rest. But somehow, maybe because her children seemed so taken by him, his disapproval didn’t matter.

“You deserve to take a break, Georgia. And I like your kids. Adam reminds me a little of Casey when he was that age. Constant motion right up until he runs out of steam.”

A distracting topic if ever there was one. She gladly accepted it. “Your nephew certainly took me by surprise.”

Jordan’s smile was gentle and filled with pride. “He’s an amazing kid. Only eighteen, but I swear he has more common sense, more backbone and maturity than a lot of men twice his age. We pretty much raised him ourselves, you know.”

She didn’t know. Since she’d moved to Buckhorn, she’d kept to herself except for her work. And she certainly hadn’t tried to form any friendships at the bar. She didn’t have time to gossip with neighbors, or go out of her way to get to know anyone. “We, meaning you and your brothers?”

“That’s right. Casey’s mother couldn’t deal with a newborn infant, and she took off. Sawyer, my oldest brother, the one who’s a doctor? He was still in medical school when Case was born, but he brought him home from the hospital and that was that. I was…let’s see, fifteen at the time. And I remember being absolutely fascinated. I looked up to Sawyer and Morgan a lot, and I’d always seen them in a one dimensional way, you know?”

“Yes.” She saw most men in a one dimensional way—selfish. Her father, her ex, her boss, the men who threw money at her while she was on stage…. She squeezed her eyes shut at that thought, praying that none of the men were spending grocery or bill money. Some of them, she was sure, couldn’t afford what they tossed at her while downing drink after drink, night after night. And if she thought about that too much, she felt miserably guilty.

But the brothers, even the nephew, had thrown her for a loop. They were unlike any men she’d ever known. Their very posture spoke of confidence and honor and respectability. She found herself intrigued.

Because she knew it had been true for her father, and true for her ex, she asked, “Things changed a lot with a baby in the picture?”

She waited for Jordan’s complaints on the hardships of keeping up with an infant. Once again, he took her by surprise.

“I wouldn’t say they changed, just adjusted a bit. In a good way. Sawyer was always so straight-faced, so serious. And then there he was, cuddling this little squirt and grinning all the time and looking so happy to change a diaper or give a bath.”

Georgia stared at him. When she’d had Lisa, she’d always felt the same way. Everything her baby did she’d thought was magical and amazing. But she’d never considered that a man might have that outlook. “You’re serious?”

Nodding, Jordan said, “I used to think nothing could pull Sawyer from his books, not even a beautiful woman. But if Casey made a noise, he was there, checking on him, smiling at him.”

Jordan grinned with the memories, then shook his head. “Morgan was always the rowdiest. He fought for the fun of fighting. Everyone still jokes about him bordering on the side of savage.”

“I can see that.”

Jordan glanced at her quickly before returning his attention to the road. “He makes a hell of an impression, doesn’t he? He’s kept our town peaceful, usually with little more than a look. But whenever he touched Casey, he was so gentle. It boggled my mind. Now, with his own daughter, Amber, who’s heading on two, he’s the same. I swear he could wrestle buffalo with one arm and hold her close with the other, making sure not a one of her little curls got ruffled. He makes a hell of a sheriff, and an even better dad.”

“You have an impressive family.” Beyond impressive really. Having only met Jordan and Morgan, she should have been prepared for Casey. How could he have been anything less than spectacular, surrounded by such incredible uncles?

Jordan gave one nod. “Yeah, I think they’re pretty great. Gabe, the youngest, started his own business not too long ago and already he’s got more work than he can handle. He can build or repair anything, and after his marriage he decided he needed to get things a little more on track.”

“On track how?”

“Before he met Elizabeth, he just worked when the mood struck him—or if someone needed something. He was always willing to help out. But Gabe preferred to spend his time in other pursuits. I doubt there was ever a day when he was without female company. Women flocked to him. It was almost uncanny. From the time he learned the difference between males and females, every girl in the area was after him, and he took advantage of it. They spoiled him rotten.”

Jordan said that with a fond smile, making Georgia shake her head.

“The worse his reputation got, the more they seemed to come after him. It used to drive my mother nuts until she and Brett retired to Florida.”

His poor wife, Georgia thought. A man like that never settled down, never really gave up his old ways….

Jordan touched her cheek. “Why are you frowning?”

She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized she frowned. “No reason.”

“Come on, Georgia.” He turned down the old road leading to her house. It was bumpy and filled with muddy puddles thanks to the rain. “I could almost see the evil thoughts going through your brain.”

“Not evil. Just…realistic.”

“Like?”

She didn’t appreciate being pushed. She didn’t appreciate having him affect her this way, either. Perhaps it would be best to tell him up front exactly how she felt so he’d leave tonight and not come back. That would be the most intelligent course to take.

So then why did the possibility make her feel so desperate?

Georgia cleared her throat, peeked at her kids to make certain they were still sleeping soundly. “Very well. If you’re sure you want to hear this?”

“I do.”

“I imagine,” she said slowly, measuring her words, “that any man who’s used to running from one woman to the next, to indulging every sexual whim, is not likely to settle down with only one woman, just because he says a few vows. If it’s in his nature to be a…sexual hedonist—”

Jordan laughed. “Gabe is that.”

“—then he’ll always be a hedonist.”

“True. I won’t argue with you there. All of my brothers are very sexual.” He glanced at her and shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with that, by the way.”

Georgia didn’t bother to argue with him on it. She did, however, wonder if he included himself in the “very sexual” category.

No! She did not wonder. She didn’t care. Refusing to look at him, she stared out her door window and watched the passing shrubbery on the side of the road. Even in the darkness, everything looked wilted by the rain.

Without her encouragement, Jordan continued. “Gabe is still a man, still very interested in sex, and I can’t see that ever changing. But now he does all his overindulging with his wife.”

Lord, how had she gotten onto this subject? She felt so hot, her window was beginning to steam. “If you say so,” she mumbled, hoping he’d let it go.

But of course he didn’t.

“You don’t believe me?” When she didn’t answer, he whistled. “Must have been a hell of a marriage you had.”

Georgia denied that with a shake of her head. “The marriage was fine. It was the end of the marriage that was hell.”

So softly she could barely hear him, Jordan asked, “Because you still loved him?”

“No.” By the time the divorce was finalized, she knew she’d been living a fairy tale, created and maintained all in the fancy of her mind. She’d seen what she’d wanted to see, not what had really been there. “No, I didn’t still love him. And it didn’t matter that he had never really loved me. But he never loved his kids, either. And that I can’t understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” His voice had that low, hypnotic sound to it again, making her insides tingle, making her breasts feel too full. It pulled at her until she wanted to lean toward him, wanted to press her face into his throat and breathe in his scent, feel the warmth of his hard body. “What difference does it make to you?”

Jordan turned into her driveway and cut the engine. “Maybe I can explain it once we get inside.” His gaze, glittering bright, held her. “Go unlock your front door and I’ll carry the kids in.”

She quickly shook her head, dispelling the trance he’d put her in with that melodic voice. “No. Thank you. You’ve done enough and I insist on repaying you for your—”

“I’m walking you in, Georgia.” His tone was now firm and commanding. His large hand cupped her cheek, tipping up her chin. “We have a few things to say to each other.”

“We have nothing to discuss!”

“Mommy?” Lisa sat up, rubbing her eyes and looking around in confusion.

With one last glare at Jordan—where she couldn’t help but notice that he appeared understanding and sympathetic still—Georgia got out of the front seat, then opened her daughter’s car door. “Sweetheart, we’re home.” She unfastened Lisa’s seat belt and smoothed her tangled bangs out of her face. “Wait right here while I go unlock the door, then I’ll get Adam and we’ll all go in, okay?”

She’d forgotten to turn on a porch light before they left, and the path to the front door, broken and overgrown with weeds, would have been impossible if Jordan hadn’t flipped the headlights back on. Her hand shook as she struggled to get the key into the lock and open the front door. But when she turned around, she almost fell over her daughter.

Jordan stood there, Adam snuggled blissfully unaware in his arms while Lisa held on to one of his belt loops. He gave her a gentle smile and said, “Move.”

Like a zombie, Georgia stepped out of the way. What choice did she have? None. As a matter of fact, Jordan, with his quiet, calm ways, had been taking away her choices from the moment she first saw him.

She closed the door and started after him, hearing Lisa direct him to Adam’s room at the top of the stairs. Lisa followed him, then veered off to her own bedroom. Georgia went to her first, helping her to get her nightgown on and tucking her into bed.

“I didn’t brush my teeth.”

Georgia smiled and pressed a kiss to Lisa’s forehead. “You’ll brush them twice tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Okay. I love you, Mommy.”

Tears blurred her eyes for a moment. She was just so tired. And she had so very much to be thankful for. “Oh baby, I love you, too.” She scooped her daughter up for a giant bear hug. “So, so much.”

“Will you tell Jordan g’night for me?”

“Of course I—”

“I’m right here.” Jordan stepped out of the shadows and sat on the edge of Lisa’s bed, practically forcing Georgia to scamper out of his way. He was an enormously large man and took up entirely too much space. “Thanks for helping me out so much today, Lisa. I appreciate it.”

Her teeth flashed in a quick smile. “It was fun. Except for grandma gettin’ sick.”

Jordan stroked her hair. “You were asleep, but your mother assures me that your grandma will be fine. The doctors are going to take very good care of her, and before long, she’ll be back home.”

Lisa nodded, then looked back at her mother. “Who’s going to baby-sit us when you go to work?”

Georgia had been standing there in something of a stupor, amazed and a little appalled at how at ease Jordan seemed to be with her daughter, and how at ease her daughter was with him. There hadn’t been many men in their lives, certainly not one who would smooth a blanket and stroke back a wayward curl.

Her father had never been close to her, much less his grandchildren. He’d died without ever knowing how truly wonderful Lisa and Adam were. Her ex-husband had walked away from them without a backward glance. But Jordan Sommerville had not only cared for them, he’d done so willingly, and even claimed to have enjoyed himself.

Seeing him now, she could believe him.

The lump in her throat nearly strangled her. She did not want to like him, not at all. But it was getting harder to stick to that resolve.

Forestalling her daughter from saying too much, Georgia said, “It’s all taken care of, sweetie. I’ll tell you about it in the morning. But for now, you need to get to sleep. The sun will be up before you know it.”

Just like that, Lisa rolled to her side, snuggled her head into her pillow, and faded back to sleep.

Jordan smiled as he stood. In a low whisper that made every nerve in her body stand on end, he said, “Children are the most amazing creatures. Awake one minute, zonked out the next.”

Georgia turned off the bedside lamp, throwing the room into concealing darkness. Only the dim light from the hallway intruded. She headed for the door. “My children are very sound sleepers. Once they’re out, not much can wake them.”

She turned to pull the door shut and found herself not two inches from Jordan. He looked down at her, his gaze lazy and relaxed. Her heartbeat jumped into double-time. She stared at his mouth—and he moved out of her way.

Georgia decided not to look at him again, but it turned out not to be a worry. He didn’t follow her to Adam’s room. Instead he headed back downstairs.

She found Adam still in his jeans and T-shirt, but his shoes had been pulled off and the blankets pulled over him. Her heart swelled at the sight of his teddy bear clutched in his arms. How had Jordan known to give it to him? It was a certainty her son hadn’t awakened enough to ask for it. But he might have missed it in the middle of night.

She sighed, kissed him gently—which prompted a snuffled snore—and smiled. She left his room with her thoughts in a jumble, pausing in the hallway for a good three minutes while she tried to figure out how to get rid of Jordan, how to remove him without looking totally ungrateful for all he’d done.

Honesty, she decided, might be her best course. She’d simply tell him outright that she neither wanted nor needed his help—not anymore. She’d thank him for all he’d done that day, regardless of the fact that part of the trouble had been his doing.

Then she’d tell him good-night, and that would be that.

She headed into the kitchen, her back stiff with resolve, and found him making coffee. Before she could speak he turned to her and his expression was so intense, so…sensual, she caught her breath.

“We have to talk,” he said, and just those simple words, muttered low and rough, made her heart pound too sharply, her body too warm. She literally trembled with need, and it made her angry and scared and frustrated. How could he affect her this way? He stepped toward her and touched her cheek. “But first, why don’t you go get showered and get all this makeup off? The coffee—I found decaf so it won’t keep you up—should be done by then.”

With her breath coming fast and low, her stomach in knots, Georgia nodded. He was making her coffee, one of her favorite things on this earth. And it sounded heavenly. He sounded heavenly. Lord, what a combination.

She hadn’t stood a chance.

JORDAN HAD himself well in check. He would stop reacting like a teenager with raging hormones, where the sight of a girl’s panties could put him into a frenzy of carnal greed. Hell, he could see a woman without her damn panties and still control himself. He would be calm. He would explain to Georgia that he wanted her, that he thought they should take advantage of the incredible chemistry…no, not incredible. Just good old chemistry. Nothing special, but there was no reason why they couldn’t get together and, as mature, reasonable adults, have a brief affair.

It only made sense. There was no reason for them not to indulge their mutual desire. She was a divorced woman working in a bar. It wasn’t like she was a prim and proper virgin.

But even as Jordan listed in his mind all the reasons that they should and could get together to take the edge off the urgent, burning hunger threatening to consume him, he worried that she’d refuse.

Damn, even looking at her sink full of dirty dishes made him want her. The whole house was a wreck, and rather than make him disdainful, it drove home to him how overwhelmed she was. He looked around again and wondered which issue he should resolve first: his lust, or the fact that he was going to give her a helping hand whether she wanted him to or not.

The old house was silent except for the creaking of the pipes as she showered. His hands shook and his vision blurred as he imagined her naked, wet and soapy and slick and…

He groaned aloud. The shower shut off and he pictured her drying her lush breasts, her flat belly, her thighs….

To distract himself, he started on the dishes. She needed a dishwasher, but there was really no place in the ancient kitchen to put one. The cabinets were a tad warped, some of them mismatched, and they’d been painted many times. They weren’t very deep, but there was certainly an abundance of them. Too many, in fact.

The linoleum on the floor, besides being of a singularly ugly design, was cracked and starting to peel. The ceiling, which he guessed to be just beneath the shower judging by the noise, had water stains, indicating that at least a few of those squeaky pipes were leaking.

He was done with the dishes, all of them stacked on a dishtowel to air dry, when the coffee finished dripping. She’d be getting dressed now…Jordan forced himself to keep busy.

Right off the kitchen was a glass-enclosed patio that opened to the backyard. Vents in the floor-to-ceiling windows were opened about an inch, letting in the cool, damp night air. Jordan, who needed a little cooling off, carried his coffee into that room and looked out at the backyard. Beautiful, he thought, even with the rough grounds. There was an enormous oak tree that probably provided an abundance of shade to the room during the hottest part of the day.

A padded glider, two chairs, a few rattan tables that had seen better days, and various toys scattered about filled the room to overflowing.

Light from the kitchen slanted across the floor, mixing with the softer, gentler moonlight. The wind stroked the trees, making the shadows dance. The house, while in need of repair, was perfect. It would take only a few pets—and a man—to make it a complete home.

Jordan held his coffee cup with a barely restrained grip. What was she doing now? How would she dress? He imagined she’d look vastly different in regular clothes, with her hair freshly shampooed and all her overdone makeup gone.

And then finally he heard her.

“Jordan?”

“Right here.” The words, whispered low, barely made it past the restriction in his throat. He didn’t turn to face her, attempting to get himself back under control first. But damn, it was impossible. It was insane.

He could smell her, he thought with an edge of urgency, sweet and warm and so damn female. Even fresh from her shower, he detected her scent. He felt like a bull in full rut.

He cleared his throat. “There’s a cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter.”

Her footsteps were nearly silent as she padded to the kitchen and back. He knew she was coming out to him.

“Thank you.” She, too, had lowered her voice, and there was an edge of wariness in her tone. He heard her sip, then heard the creak of the glider as she sat down. “I should have known you’d make great coffee.”

It sounded like an accusation. Slowly Jordan turned to face her. Moonlight touched her in selective places—over the crown of her hair, making it glow a soft gold, across her shoulders now covered in a baggy white cotton pullover, and her knees, bare from the sloppy gray sweat-shorts she wore. There were thick white ankle socks on her feet.

Not a seductive outfit, at least not deliberately. But then, nothing that she’d done to him had been deliberate. Most of her face was hidden, but he saw enough.

“My God, you’re beautiful.” Without the makeup, she looked young and innocent and…distressed. Because of him?

Her quiet laugh was incredulous. “Hardly that. Only my mother, who loves me dearly, would ever call me beautiful.”

Jordan heard the words, but he couldn’t quite comprehend them. Not with her sitting there making him shake with the most profound emotions he’d ever experienced.

She laughed again, nervously this time as he continued to stare. “But I suppose anything is an improvement after the war paint, especially since it had all been smudged. I nearly scared myself when I looked in the mirror.”

She took another drink of the coffee, then set the mug beside her on the floor. With a loose-limbed dexterity that amazed him, she twisted one leg up across her lap and began massaging her foot. “Now, about our talk.”

Jordan looked at her foot, so small and feminine, less than half the size of his own. He breathed hard and felt like an idiot. How the hell could her feet raise his fevered urgency to the breaking point? He searched his beleaguered brain for an ounce of logic.

“You’re going to need some help for the next few days.” Damn, he hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

She paused, looking up at him with a blank sort of dis-belief. She forced a smile. “We’ll be fine.”

In for a penny, in for a pound…. “Who will watch your children,” he asked, “while you visit your mother at the hospital? I assume you’ll want to visit her?”

That got her frowning. “Of course I will! I’m not going to just leave her there….”

“I didn’t think so.” The love she felt for her mother, the closeness, was as obvious to him as her feelings for her children. It had pained him to witness her worry, her fear. All his life, he’d had his family around him, his mother, his brothers, ready to share any burdens, ready to support him in any way they could. But the one person Georgia had was now ailing, and it turned him inside out trying to imagine how the hell she could cope with that reality.

His own mother was the epitome of female strength, her love and loyalty unshakeable, unquestionable. She was fierce in her independence, and God help anyone who tried to come between her and her family.

He knew if it was his mother in the hospital right now, he’d move heaven and earth for her. But Georgia didn’t have his financial or familial resources.

Georgia needed him, and his mother would be the first to have his head if he didn’t insist on helping. As much as it pained him, he was going to have to put lust aside, at least for the time being.

“What will you do when you have to work?” Jordan asked. “Do you have any baby-sitters? Other than your mother, I mean.”

Her head snapped up and she dropped her foot back to the floor. Jordan had a feeling she was ready to pounce on him. He quickly set his own coffee cup on the rickety rattan table and stepped close enough so that she couldn’t come completely to her feet without touching him.

He waited, hoping, his breath held. But with no more than a wary look, she retreated.

He settled both hands on her shoulders and gave her his patented stern look. “Is it true, Georgia? Or do you have someone you can call to help out until your mother gets well?”

They were still speaking in hushed tones, and her voice sounded gruff with emotion when she answered. “Of course I have people I can call.”

Jordan knelt down in front of her. His long legs encased hers; he surrounded her, wanting her to know he’d protect her, that she could trust him. “Who?”

Silence filled the room. Jordan loved the way her gray eyes darkened, making her thoughts easy for him to read. Others would consider her eyes mysterious, but he understood her. He knew her.

Finally, after long seconds, she shook her head.

His heart swelled painfully. “There’s no one, is there?” She turned away and he whispered, “Georgia?”

“No.”

Without conscious decision, he began caressing her shoulders, feeling the smoothness of her, the softness. In a tone so low he could barely hear himself, he said, “Don’t ever lie to me again, Georgia. It’s not necessary. Whatever men you’ve known—”

She laughed at that, a sound without much humor.

“—I’m not like them. You can trust me.”

She stared at his mouth. “Oh, I know you’re different, Jordan. No doubt about it. But don’t you see? That’s part of the problem.”

“You want to explain that?”

“Why not?” Her hand trembled when she touched his jaw, and her voice was husky with wonder. “I’ve found it very easy to ignore most men, even the men yelling crude suggestions from the audience when I dance. But I can’t ignore you. You make me feel different. You…affect me.” Then with a frown: “I don’t like it.”

For the first time in his life, Jordan’s knees felt weak. He sucked in air, trying to fill his lungs enough, trying to dredge up just a little more calm. This was important and he wanted it resolved.

He cupped her face, pulled her forward to the edge of her seat until her breasts were soft and full against his chest, until he could feel her thundering heartbeat, meshing with his own. “You affect me, too.”

And then he kissed her.

Her lush mouth softened, warmed, under his. She made a small sound of confusion and her hands settled on his shoulders, her fingers biting deep into his muscles.

He tasted her deeply, his tongue pushing gently into her mouth, making them both groan. Jordan was a hairs-breadth away from taking her completely when he forced himself to lift his mouth away. They both struggled for breath. “This is insane,” he whispered.

She nodded, staring into his eyes with a mix of wonder and fear.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” He used the tone that made women agree with him no matter what. He considered it successful, given that she rested her head on his shoulder and her hands still held him tightly.

“I’ll see to the children,” he insisted, “after I’ve taken care of all my appointments. With a little rearranging, I think I can be done by three each day, which means you’ll have plenty of time to visit with your mother, and then get into work, right?”

With an obvious effort, she pulled herself away from him. She looked dazed, but said, “Sometimes I waitress in the afternoons, too.”

Jordan barely resisted the urge to kiss her again. “You work alternate shifts?”

“No. Sometimes I work both. We…that is, I need the money. This house has a lot of repairs that have to be done and…”

It seemed the words came from her unwillingly. “Shh. I understand. When I can’t make it, Casey or one of my other relatives will help out. You’ll love them. They’re all terrific with kids.”

She didn’t reply to that, either to deny or accept his offer. Jordan looked at the weariness etched into every line of her body. It was no wonder she looked so tired, so utterly defeated. “You were finishing up a double shift today, weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

He lifted one hand to her cheek and used his thumb to stroke her cheekbone. “How many hours do you usually work in a day?”

“However many I need to.”

Her matter-of-fact answer hit him like a slap. He looked up at the ceiling, wanting to roar with frustration. Since meeting her, he’d been indulging visions of wild lechery while she was barely able to stay on her feet. He felt like a complete and total bastard, an unfeeling—

“What is it you do, Jordan? You said you have appointments?

It wasn’t easy to tamp down his anger at the thought of her working herself into the ground, especially at that sorry place. But her exhaustion was a palpable force, wearing her down, wearing him down, and he couldn’t bring himself to add to it. He reminded himself that she needed his strength, not his temper. Not his lust.

“I’m a vet.” He moved to sit beside her on the glider and as she turned toward him, he took her hand. The unusual day had brought them a closeness that might normally have taken a week or more to achieve. He’d seen her vulnerability, and her strength. But they’d had little time to actually get to know one another. He’d rectify as much of that as he could right now.

“I’ve always loved animals and they’ve always loved me. I feel gifted, because they respond to me.”

“It’s your voice,” she said, and she smiled.

Jordan shrugged. All his life he’d heard about his mystical voice, but so far, Georgia had seemed quite capable of resisting him. “Why don’t you have any pets? The yard is plenty big enough and the kids would love it.”

“So would I. But pets cost money. They need food and shots and…not only would it cost too much, but I don’t have much spare time left. The kids are too young to be solely responsible for a pet, and my mother does enough as it is.”

Jordan decided to think on that. As isolated as she was in the big house, a dog would be ideal. He said, “I have a clinic not that far from here. That’s why it’ll be easy for me to help you out with the children. They like me, Georgia, so that shouldn’t be a problem. And if you still have any doubts about my character, well, ask around town tomorrow. Anyone can tell you that I’m good baby-sitting material.”

She looked down at their clasped hands, then tugged gently until he freed her. Scooting over a little to put some space between them, she again pulled her foot into her lap and began rubbing. In a ridiculously prim voice considering they were sitting alone in the darkness and he’d had his tongue in her mouth only moments before, she said, “I don’t want to impose on you.”

“I’m offering, and besides—” he tipped her face toward him “—what other options do you have?”

Her eyes closed and she sighed. “Options? I don’t have many, do I? I’ve often wondered what my life would be like with more options.”

Jordan growled out a sigh. She was the most exasperating woman he’d ever met. “I’m trying to give you some options, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Jordan ignored her order. “I want you to be able to visit your mother and work without having to worry about Lisa or Adam.”

Her eyes slanted his way, heavy with fatigue. “You don’t approve of me.”

Fighting the urge to shake her, Jordan frowned. “Wrong. I don’t approve of where you work. They’re two entirely different things.”

She laughed at that, and focused on flexing the arch of her left foot with intense concentration.

Jordan caught her wrists. “What are you doing?”

“My feet hurt.” Her tone was abrupt, as if that particular question had annoyed her more than anything else. “Try staying on your feet all damn day—in high heels no less—and your feet’ll hurt, too.”

He flexed his jaw. He told himself to just leave. He even cursed himself privately in the silence of his own mind. But it didn’t make one whit of difference. He was already so far off track, he had no idea where he was going, but was just as intent on getting there.

“Lay down.”

She reared back as if he’d struck her. “What?”

Jordan caught her hips and pulled her toward him so that she landed flat on her back on the flowered cushions. She was stunned for a moment, not moving, and before she could gather her wits he deftly flipped her onto her stomach. He had her feet in his lap and his gaze glued to the sight of her rounded ass in the loose shorts, by the time she started to struggle. He must have masochistic tendencies, he decided, tightening his grip on her ankles, holding her secure.

Georgia levered up on stiffened arms, gasping in outrage—until his fingers moved deeply over the arch of her left foot, then up and over her toes. She gave a long, husky, vibrating groan.

The sound of her unrestrained pleasure made Jordan break out in a sweat. Her shoulders went limp and her head dropped forward as if her neck had no strength to hold it up. “This isn’t fair.”

“What?”

“A voice that seduces, perfect coffee, and now a foot massage.” She groaned again. “Ohmigod, that feels good.”

Jordan closed his eyes and applied himself to giving her the best damn foot rub she’d ever had in her life. “Relax,” he ordered, though he was so rigid a mere touch would have shattered him.

She obeyed. She dropped flat to the glider and rested her head on her folded arms. Every few seconds she moaned in bliss, stretching her toes like a cat being petted.

Jordan was so hard he hurt. He desperately wanted to slide his hands up the backs of her firm thighs, to slip his fingers beneath the loose hem of the shorts she wore. Probably, he reasoned, she’d thought the shorts to be unappealing because they were old and gray and faded. But the material hugged her curves and they were loose enough in the legs that he could now see all the way to the tops of her thighs.

He slid his hands up her warm, resilient calves. She had excellent muscle tone, and even as he stroked her, kneading her flesh, feeling her muscles relax, he admitted he was beyond pathetic when a woman’s muscle tone brought him to the edge.

Feeling like a damn lecher, he lifted one of her legs and was even able to see the edge of her panties, which—contrary to all he’d been telling himself—nearly made him erupt with carnal greed.

In a rasp totally unlike his normal seductive tone, he said, “Agree to my help, damn it.”

She sighed, adjusted her head more comfortably and murmured in a barely there voice, “It wouldn’t be right.”

Affronted, Jordan realized she was on the verge of sleep. Conflicting emotions bombarded him. Lust was there, tearing at his resolve, making his guts cramp, but there was also a throbbing explosion of tenderness, enough to expand his heart and tighten his lungs.

“I want to help you, Georgia.”

She sighed, and in the next instant started to snore softly. A reluctant smile curved his mouth. Never in his benighted life had a woman fallen asleep on him. It was a novelty he could have lived without, but then it occurred to him that perhaps this was exactly what he needed to gain the upper hand.

“Georgia?” He continued working the tendons in her feet, something he knew from experience that all women seemed to enjoy. Personally, if a female was going to rub him, he could think of better places than his feet.

She didn’t reply and after he gently placed her foot in his lap, he reached up and shook her shoulder.

She never stirred.

Jordan sat back with a grin. She’d said her children were very sound sleepers and now he knew that it was an inherited trait.

Beyond his feelings of triumph—because he really did have her now—it dawned on him that she was as vulnerable as a woman could be with a man, so she must trust him to some degree. And he wasn’t above taking advantage of it.

He stroked her hair, silky soft and warm. He indulged his need to touch her, to learn the textures and curves of her face, her neck, her shoulder. Her spine was graceful, leading down to that superior rump that looked so damn tantalizing there before him, like an offering.

He was an honorable man, so he kept his hands on safe ground, but he looked at every inch of her, then whispered, “I’ve got you now, sweetheart.”

And still she didn’t move.

It took a lot of willpower to walk away from her, to find a blanket to cover her with and then to walk out of the room. But he managed it; he had a lot of fortitude when something really mattered.

And this mattered. Much as he hated to admit it, it mattered too damn much.

GEORGIA WOKE with the sunlight bright in her face. She didn’t move, at first making an attempt to orient herself. Something wasn’t right. She squinted; why was there so much light?

As her eyes adjusted, she saw the huge oak in her backyard through dirty windows, stately and still, not a single leaf stirring. There must be no wind, she thought, now that the dreadful rain had obviously ended.

And then it dawned on her that she wasn’t in her own bed where she should be, or she certainly wouldn’t be looking at the backyard. She was, as incredible as it seemed, in the enclosed patio curled up on the glider under a quilt.

She was still putting those thoughts together in the cobwebs of her mind when she heard a faint, muffled laugh. Lisa, then Adam. They sounded happy and for just a moment she thought everything was as it was supposed to be, as it had been the day before. Her mother, an early riser, was probably making coffee and the kids liked to hang next to her, waiting for cereal, chattering nonstop. Georgia always got up when she heard the kids, even though she was still exhausted and even though she knew her mother would complain and tell her to sleep more—and then she heard another deeper, more masculine laugh.

Jordan!

She jerked upright so fast the glider rolled, nearly spilling her onto the floor. Her heart racing, she remembered everything, her near arrest, her mother’s illness—that orgasmic foot rub Jordan had been giving her late last night.

She twisted to face the kitchen behind her, and sure enough, that was Jordan’s rough-velvet voice whispering, “Shhh. We don’t want your mother to wake up yet. She had a long night.”

Adam, sounding a bit blurry as if he hadn’t been awake long himself, said, “Mommy always gets up with us, even when grandma grouches at her ‘bout it.”

Lisa bragged, “She won’t hear anything, but she always hears us. Even when we’re quiet. Grandma says that’s a mommy’s sixth sense.”

“You’ve got an excellent mommy.” Jordan said that with conviction, and Georgia wondered if he meant it. More likely he was merely trying to appease the kids. “But today we’ll try to let her catch up on sleep.”

Lisa asked, “Can I have the next pancake?”

Pancake?

“Absolutely. I can’t believe you’ve eaten two already. Are you sure they’re in your belly? You didn’t hide one behind your ear?”

Lisa laughed again and Adam joined her.

Georgia nearly choked. She’d been sleeping so soundly one minute, and jarred awake the next, that she felt nearly drunk as she staggered to her feet in righteous indignation and groped her way toward the kitchen. Jordan was feeding her children? He had invaded her kitchen? What in the world was he doing here so early? The kids knew better than to go anywhere near the doors without her or their grandmother. She’d reminded them again and again that they were never ever to open the door to anyone.

Georgia stopped in the entryway, her thoughts scattering at the sight of Jordan. He looked…gorgeous. Sinfully gorgeous. His light brown hair was mussed, his jaw rough with beard stubble, his sleeves rolled back over his thick forearms. And he wore an apron around his waist.

For the first time she understood the appeal of “barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen”. Jordan’s bare feet looked very sexy, and though he wasn’t in the family way, he was being domestic—which she assumed was the point. He smiled at Lisa and it made her heart expand painfully against her rib cage. Georgia rubbed a hand under her breast, trying to ease the constriction, but it didn’t help.

God, the man looked good standing at her stove. He looked good with her children, too. And he looked far, far too good in her life.

Both kids wore aprons as well, tied up under their armpits and with the hems dragging near the floor. They were huddled around the stove while Jordan used a turkey baster to put pancake batter on the griddle with complex precision.

“I’m an artist,” he proclaimed, and both kids quickly agreed.

Curiosity swamped her, and when she finally got her hungry gaze off Jordan and onto the griddle she saw that he was making the most odd-shaped pancakes she’d ever seen. They were…well, they looked like faces. And fish. And…

“Mommy!”

Adam rushed to her, nearly knocking her off her feet as he barreled into her legs. Jordan looked up with a frown. Lisa ran to her and took her hand.

It was traditional for them to share kisses and hugs first thing in the morning, and this morning was no different.

It wasn’t traditional, however, for a very large, very sexy man to be looking on. A man with noticeable chest hair showing through the open collar of his shirt. A man with very warm, appreciative eyes.

Maybe the kids hadn’t let him in. Maybe—she gulped—he’d spent the night! She couldn’t seem to remember anything after he’d started working on her feet. Nothing except how incredibly good it had felt.

Heat rushed into her face and Jordan smiled as if he knew exactly why she blushed. Georgia ignored him, holding both children close, relishing the feel of their small arms tight around her neck, their sweet, familiar smells. She could never truly regret the mistakes in her life, because it was those mistakes that had given her Lisa and Adam.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to make those mistakes again. Having a male stranger invade her life so easily not only showed her irresponsibility, but her stupidity. She couldn’t let it happen. She wouldn’t let it happen.

She’d barely straightened when both kids began extolling Jordan’s virtues, how funny he was, his culinary expertise, his artistic talent. He’d already promised to show them new kittens at his office, and to take them along the next time he had to treat a horse or cow.

Like a damn new puppy, they wanted to keep him. Forever.

Georgia ground her teeth together and concentrated on getting her sluggish brain in gear. Adam demanded her attention with the typical enthusiasm of a four-year-old boy.

It was an effort, but Georgia hefted his sturdy little body into her arms. He clasped her face and said, “We been cookin’!”

“So I see.” Her words ended on a jaw-splitting yawn and since her hands were full holding up her tank of a son, she couldn’t quite cover her mouth.

Jordan ushered Lisa away from the stove with a gentle touch. “Not too close, hon. I want to get your mother some coffee before she topples over, and you never know when a pancake might explode. So don’t go near the griddle without me, okay?”

Lisa held her sides as she laughed, but she did as he asked, settling into her chair at the table.

Without her permission, Jordan relieved her of Adam’s weight, holding her son as if he had the right, as if he’d known how unsteady she still felt, and to her further annoyance, Adam clung to him.

Cooking, coffee, foot massage, and now coddling her kids; the man knew his way into a woman’s heart.

Jordan handed her the coffee cup as a replacement for Adam. “Here. You look like you could use this.”

Fragrant steam rose from the cup, making the coffee impossible to resist. She took one long hot sip and felt her head begin to clear. “Nothing on earth,” she said with relish, “tastes better than that first sip of coffee in the morning.”

His eyes took on a warm glow. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” He looked at her mouth, and heat shot down her spine, doing more than the coffee had to revive her.

Jordan smiled at her as he deftly seated Adam at the table and put a square pancake on his plate. “Why don’t you sit down, Georgia, and I’ll tell you what the hospital had to say this morning.”

Her brain threatened to burst. Georgia glanced at the clock and saw it was only eight. “You’ve called them already?”

“Yes. I thought you’d probably want to know something as soon as you woke.”

He was right, of course. Not only did he excite her, he read her mind.

“They said your mother rested peacefully through the night and that she’s doing much better this morning. The doctor will be in to see her sometime between eleven and one, so I thought you’d like to be there.” He looked her over, taking in the rumpled clothes she’d slept in. “I’d planned to wake you in an hour or so to give you time to get ready.”

Wake her? She was both relieved and slightly disappointed to have missed that happening. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been awakened by a man. Before the divorce, she was always the one up first. To have Jordan wake her…it would have been a novel experience.

Dazed, Georgia looked around the kitchen. For the first time she could remember since moving in, it was spotless. Not a dish out of place, other than the ones now loaded with the odd pancake shapes. The counters were all spotless, the floor clean, the sink polished. Even the toys that were forever under foot had all been put away. The dozens of colored pictures by Adam and Lisa were neatly organized on the front of the refrigerator.

She frowned and cast a suspicious glare at Jordan. Had he been cleaning all night to accomplish so much? And why would he do such a thing anyway? Her father and her ex-husband had considered that women’s work.

“Would you like a pancake?”

Her eyes narrowed at his continued good humor and solicitousness. “No.”

“I can make it in the conventional shape if the fun stuff scares you.”

He knew damn good and well that it was he who scared her, not his ridiculous pancakes. She considered strangling him.

“They’re the best pancakes I’ve ever tasted!” Lisa said with her mouth full, her lips sticky with syrup. Georgia saw the box of pancake mix—the same that they always used—sitting on the cabinet, and raised her brows at Jordan.

“It’s all in the preparation,” he explained. “Any chef can tell you that.”

She drank the rest of her coffee, in desperate need of the caffeine if she was expected to spar with him after just rising. Last night had been the best sleep she’d had in ages, when she’d thought she’d be awake fretting all night.

With that superior gentleness that made her want to smack him, Jordan took her arm and led her to a chair. “Yes, there’s more coffee,” he said, saving her from having to ask.

He refilled her cup and she scowled. “Cooking, cleaning, serving. What are you? My fairy godmother?”

Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, “I’m just a man who wants you, sweetheart. And we did make that wonderful agreement last night.”

She straightened so abruptly she bumped his chin with the back of her head. To his credit, he didn’t curse, but he did give her a long look as he rubbed away the ache. Luckily the kids were digging into their food and not paying attention.

“What agreement?” she growled as he moved away, a man without a care in the world.

“We can go over all the details, as per your request,” he said easily, “right after you get cleaned up and dressed.”

“I don’t remember any request!”

“Oh. Well, you were very groggy. Which was why you said it’d be better to finalize our plans—you do remember the plans?—in the morning.” He turned to the stove and put three round pancakes on a plate, buttered them, and set them before her.

She had no recollection of the conversation at all. Certainly not about any plans. But those pancakes…the smells were incredible, making her stomach rumble loudly. Everyone looked at her. Lisa pointed and laughed.

Jordan pulled his own chair up close to hers. “When did you eat last?”

His gaze was too perceptive, too intrusive, demanding an honest reply. The problem was, she couldn’t remember. The days tended to blur together when she worked double shifts.

He shook his head. “If you’re going to burn the candle at both ends, you really need to refuel, you know.”

“That’s mixing your metaphors just a bit, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. But the point is still valid, I swear.” He watched her as she took her first bite, and smiled when she closed her eyes in bliss. “Good?”

“Very.” She gave him a reluctant look, and added, “Thank you.”

He touched her, stroking one long finger over her cheekbone and jaw, the side of her throat. “That wasn’t so painful, now was it?”

Georgia froze for a heartbeat, mesmerized by that seductive tone and achingly tender touch. Then she shook herself and looked pointedly at her children, who were watching the byplay with an absorbed fascination. She supposed having a man at the breakfast table was even more unique for them. She doubted they remembered their father much, and what they would have remembered had nothing to do with peaceful family breakfasts together.

Jordan never missed a beat. “If you little beggars are done, why don’t you go get your teeth brushed and pull on some clothes while your mother and I talk?”

“Talk about what?” Lisa wanted to know.

“Why, about you both visiting Casey again today, this time at our home. I live right near a long skinny lake. Casey can take you fishing while your mother and I visit the hospital and fetch your car back home from where she works.”

Lisa and Adam immediately started jumping up and down, squealing and begging.

“That’s enough,” Georgia said. The kids quieted just a bit, but their eyes were still bright and wide with hope.

She stared at Jordan, her face so frozen it hurt, and murmured, “That’s low, even for you.”

He looked guilty for a flash of an instant, then resolve darkened his eyes. “I’m a desperate man. And we did make that bargain—”

“Kids,” she interrupted, “go ahead and get dressed. And Lisa, remember you wanted to brush your teeth twice, okay?”

“Are we going to see Casey?”

Not if she could help it. “I’ll have to think about it, sweetie. There’s a lot I have to get done today.”

The kids trailed out, dragging their feet, their expressions despondent. Damn Jordan for putting her in this position. Her children had so few outings these days, what with her working all the time. She knew how much they’d love a visit to a lake. But the more time she spent with Jordan, the weaker her stand on independence seemed to feel. She had to make it on her own. She had to.

When Georgia heard their footsteps at the top of the creaky stairs, she rounded on Jordan, blasting him with all her fury. “How dare you!”

After one long, silent look, Jordan began carrying dishes to the sink. “You’re just being stubborn, Georgia. Why should the kids be cooped up at the hospital while you’re visiting your mother? They’ll enjoy being in the fresh air, and I already spoke with Casey this morning and he agreed—”

“I didn’t agree.” She left her chair and faced him with her hands on her hips. “They’re my children and I know what’s best for them.”

“True.” Jordan leaned back on the sink and silently studied her. “I’m not questioning your parenting skills, honey. It only took me about two seconds of seeing you with them to know how much you love them, and that they’re crazy about you. But you did agree.” When she stared at him blankly, he added, “Last night? Don’t tell me you don’t remember any of it?”

Her heart lurched at his continued insistence. Last night? So much of it, once he’d touched her feet, was a blur. She’d been so tired, so stressed….

“You told me,” Jordan said calmly, “that taking the kids to Casey would be fine. Sawyer is going to meet me at the hospital, and while you’re visiting, he and I will fetch your car. Afterwards we’ll pick up the kids and I’ll take you all to dinner.”

Georgia felt like a deflated balloon. Surely she hadn’t discussed all that with him? But he looked so positive, so sure of himself. And she had been beyond weary, ready to simply cave in under the exhaustion and worry. It was conceivable that she might have said things she now couldn’t remember.

She just didn’t know.

Her head hurt and she rubbed her fingers through her badly tangled hair. She felt Jordan’s large firm hands settle on her shoulders and pull her close. She tried to resist him and the comfort, the security that he offered. She really did. But he brought her up flush against his strong, solid body and began rubbing her back. The man’s voice wasn’t the only thing magical about him. His fingers were pretty amazing, too.

It had been so, so long since anyone stronger, bigger than she had held her. Her muscles turned liquid at the wondrous feel of it.

Jordan’s whiskery jaw brushed her temple as he spoke. “Just stop being so defensive and think about this logically, okay? We’re not bad people, sweetheart. Casey will enjoy keeping your rugrats entertained for a few hours. He adores children. We all do. And Lisa already adores Casey. He’s responsible. He won’t let anything happen to them.”

“But—”

He tipped up her chin. “But you’re still worried? Please don’t be. Not now. When things get straightened out and your mother is back home, then you can give me hell, okay?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t want to give you hell. It’s just that…I don’t understand you.”

“And that worries you?”

With complete honesty, she said, “Yes.”

“Well, I don’t quite understand myself right now, either, so I’m afraid I can’t offer any explanations. I just know I want to help out. Is that so bad?”

She searched his face, looking for answers while confusion swamped her. “We barely know each other, Jordan.”

“But it doesn’t seem to matter, does it?” His gaze warmed and his touch changed. Just like that, he went from comforting to being all male. All interested male. He looked at her mouth and then kept on looking. “I can’t believe how you make me feel.”

“Jordan?” Her lips trembled. Her entire body trembled. Nothing should feel like this, so good and so scary and so…right.

He bent toward her. His breath teased her lips as he whispered, “What you do to me should be illegal.”

Oh, the way he said that! He’d turned the full power of his bewitching voice on her and, combined with the memory of that sensuous foot rub of the night before, she was a goner. “Oh, my…”

He stole her breathy exclamation with his mouth as he kissed her. Knowing that she should resist, and being able to resist, were two entirely different things. His mouth was hot, incredibly hungry, and damp. She kissed him back, unable not to. His taste was indescribable. Hot and feverish. His hands were gentle on her face, a stark contrast to the consuming carnality of the kiss, eating at her, nipping with his teeth, sucking at her tongue as he groaned low in his throat and kissed her again and again.

Her hands curved around his shoulders and the feel of him, of solid muscle, bone and sinew flexing against her palms made her insides curl with raw desire. He arched her into his body and gave her his own tongue, tasting her deeply, pressing the hard planes of his body into her softness. Her breasts throbbed and ached, their galloping heartbeats mingled, and between her thighs….

Somehow she found herself backed up to the cabinets. With no effort at all, Jordan lifted her and the second she was balanced on the edge of the counter, he stepped between her thighs. She could feel the long, hard ridge of his erection, throbbing against her. His hand curved up her side and then over her breast, and it was so wonderful she cried out.

Jordan cursed as he kissed his way to her throat, to the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “I want you.”

She wanted him, too. She held on to him, unable to think beyond the need. He was between her legs, leaving her open and vulnerable and she liked it. She liked the way he moved against her, stroking her with a tantalizing touch that brought her so close to completion even though they were both completely dressed and for the most part standing. She’d never realized that such a thing was possible, but she felt her muscles tightening, felt the spiral of delicious heat curling in her belly and below.

His fingertips brushed over her aching nipple, then pinched lightly and she almost lost it, almost came right there in her kitchen with a man who was hardly more than a stranger, a man who had no compunction about taking over her life. And she simply didn’t care.

The kids started to argue upstairs and Jordan lifted his mouth. He was panting hard, his body shaking. His high cheekbones were slashed with aroused color, his emerald eyes burning. Heat poured off him.

In guttural tones that turned her limbs to butter, he growled, “I’m so damn hard right now, one touch and I’d be in oblivion.” He squeezed her tighter, pressed his erection hard against her. “One touch, Georgia.”

It appeared he expected a reply to that. But she could barely think clearly enough to stay upright on the countertop, much less know what to say. She stared at his mouth, her own open in mute surprise at all she’d felt, at how incredible a kiss and a few simple touches could be. She’d been married nearly seven years, but she hadn’t known, hadn’t guessed….

He muttered a raw curse. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re killing me.”

She sucked in air and tried to think.

“Say something, damn it.”

Nodding, Georgia looked around her kitchen, at all he’d done, at all he still apparently expected to do. Not just to the house, but to her as well. She knew as soon as her thoughts cleared, she’d be mortified. She’d broken her own rules, she’d breached propriety. She’d shamed herself this time more than ever before.

She met his gaze and swallowed. “I’m supposed to work tonight. I…I can’t go to dinner.”

HE SHOULDN’T have been so angry, but his emotions had been in a whirlwind since the first moment he saw her, and he hadn’t gotten a firm handle on them yet. How could he have done something so stupid as to practically take her in her own damn kitchen, with her kids upstairs? Not only was he disgusted with his own lack of restraint, but he was madder than hell at himself for upsetting her.

Once she’d really had a chance to settle down and get her wits together, she’d looked devastated. Jordan could tell she didn’t blame him. No, Georgia blamed herself, and he couldn’t stand it. He’d wanted to lighten her physical load, and instead, he had added to her emotional one. He could only imagine what she was thinking, but she wouldn’t look at him, and that pretty much told it all.

What was between them was damn powerful, and neither of them were coming to grips with it very well. Rather than discussing it, though, she’d informed him she had to work. Again.

Jordan put up a good front for the kids, trying to shelter them from his black mood, a mood he was afraid was partially caused by jealousy. He’d never felt it before, so he couldn’t be certain, but he did know that he hated it, hated the way his muscles refused to relax, the way his stomach knotted every time he pictured her on that stage. Hiding his rage wasn’t easy, but he’d take a punch on the chin before deliberately upsetting her again, or making her children uncomfortable.

He must have been somewhat successful, because the kids were subdued, but far from silent. Georgia had explained to them about hospitals, so they were wide-eyed with respect for the sick people, and apparently oblivious to his turmoil.

Despite her near stomping, Georgia’s soft-soled shoes made no sound as they walked the length of the long hospital corridor. He could feel her nervousness and he wanted to protect her. He wanted to devour her.

He didn’t want her blaming herself for the uncontrollable chemistry between them. And he did not want her dancing on that goddamn stage again.

They rounded a corner, the silence between them a living thing, and then they both drew up short as they saw not only Sawyer standing there, but Gabe and Casey as well. Oh, hell. His entire family just had to turn out, didn’t they? If Misty hadn’t been sick, no doubt Morgan would have been here now, too.

They were likely enjoying his predicament. He’d always been different from them. More withdrawn. More self-contained. Though he never doubted their love, he often felt like an outsider; because of his father, there were things he’d never be able to share with them. Like the pride of their male parentage.

Knowing he’d gotten himself mired in an emotional conflict probably had them all rubbing their hands with glee. They just loved it when he fell into the same traps that grabbed them. It happened far too often for Jordan’s peace of mind.

Lisa, being a natural-born flirt, smiled widely at the sight of Casey and took off at a run to see him. Casey grinned and knelt down to catch her. Adam quickly followed suit, but he was a bit more cautious, keeping one eye on Sawyer and Gabe.

Georgia had come to a complete and utter halt. She just stood there frozen, apparently as appalled as he felt. Jordan could have told her it wouldn’t do her any good.

Sawyer started forward with a wide smile and a warm glint in his dark eyes. “Georgia?”

She nodded, staring up at him. Jordan heard her swallow. “Yes?”

Sawyer, damn him, hugged her. He put his arms right around her, as if she were a member of the family or something, and cradled her to his chest with a great show of affection.

Jordan saw red and had to struggle not to huff like a bull. Luckily Sawyer released her right away.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Sawyer said. “Casey has told me quite a bit about you.”

Her eyes were still round, her expression awed. “You’re Casey’s father?”

“Yes.” Sawyer glowed with pride whenever he spoke of Case. “I understand he’ll be doing a spot of baby-sitting today. We’re all looking forward to it. Especially my wife. Now that we have our own little one-six-month-old Shohn—and with Morgan’s daughter Amber, Honey’s finding she really adores children. She’s never had much chance to be around older children, so this’ll be a real treat for her.”

Jordan knew what his brother was doing, making it sound like a damn favor to him if Georgia didn’t hesitate to let him take the kids. He’d told Sawyer on the phone that she hadn’t quite agreed yet. But now, well…Sawyer’s performance should clinch it.

He glanced at Georgia to see how she was reacting to Sawyer’s long-winded introduction. He wasn’t really surprised to see that her mouth was still open as she stared up at him. There was an innate compassion to Sawyer that drew women; they felt safe with him.

Then Gabe sauntered forward and Jordan thought she might faint. He cursed low even as he clasped her arm to steady her. Everyone ignored him.

“Hi, there,” Gabe said, flashing her with his most engaging grin, and Georgia couldn’t even blink. When Gabe waited, still smiling, she managed to lift one hand and flit her fingers in a feeble wave of greeting.

Jordan heaved a disgusted sigh. “Why are you all here?”

Sawyer shrugged. “I came because you asked me to. Gabe tagged along so you wouldn’t have to leave Georgia here alone. He’ll drive your car and drop me off to get Georgia’s car, then we’ll both be back. Casey is going to go ahead and take the kids to meet Honey, since she’s practically bouncing with excitement.”

Sawyer spoke as if the plans had all been finalized, attempting, no doubt, to head Georgia off at the pass, so to speak.

But at the mention of her offspring, Georgia came out of her stupor. “This is ridiculous. You’re all going to so much trouble—”

“Not at all.” Gabe winked at her, rendering her mute again. He had that effect on all women, it seemed. Even his wife wasn’t yet immune. He’d ask Elizabeth if she’d like mashed potatoes, and the woman would blush scarlet. It was uncanny.

“It’s no problem at all,” Gabe assured her. “And for the record, my wife is anxious to meet the kids, too. We don’t have any of our own yet. Not that I’m above trying, you understand—”

Jordan stepped in front of him. “You know, Georgia, since Sawyer is here anyway, why don’t we let him take a peek at your mother? He’s a damn fine doctor. And that way, if she ever has any other problems, you can just give him a call. They’ll already be acquainted.”

Sawyer nodded. “I still make housecalls, if you can believe the convenience of that! But in Buckhorn, we’re all real neighborly that way.”

Jordan shook his head at the not-so-subtle suggestion that Georgia could be more neighborly herself.

She turned her back on them all, one hand to her head. “This is incredible.” She appeared to be speaking to herself.

“Where did you move from?” Gabe asked.

Distracted, she waved a hand and said, “Milwaukee.”

“Ah, that explains it. We do things differently here.”

She turned back around, her eyes intent. “Are there any other brothers I haven’t met yet?”

They said in unison, “No.”

“Thank God for small favors.” They all grinned at her, making her fall back a step before she caught herself. “All right, I want to see my mother. I won’t really feel reassured until I have. She’s on the third floor.”

Casey spoke up. “I’ll go on and head out. The squirts are anxious to see the lake. That okay?”

Georgia looked harried, but she nodded. “Yes, okay.” She pulled her children close. “You guys be on especially good behavior for Casey, all right?”

“We will!”

“We’re always good.”

Georgia smiled. “I know. I’m a very lucky mother to have you two.”

The kids smothered her with hugs—quickly because they were anxious to be off—and she kissed each of them. “Jordan and I will be there soon. And be careful around that water!”

Casey put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “They’ll be fine. Don’t worry. We have a rule that no kids are allowed even on the shore without a life preserver on. I won’t let them get hurt. I promise.”

As Casey took both kids by the hand and walked away, Georgia got that shell-shocked look about her again.

Jordan gently maneuvered her into the elevator and pushed the third-floor button. In the crowded confines of the elevator, she stood closer to him than she had all morning. He assumed his brothers intimidated her because she was so damn small by comparison. Her curly golden brown hair would barely brush any of the male chins surrounding her, her shoulders were only half as wide as theirs.

Her petite build really emphasized her full breasts, he noticed. And once he noticed, he couldn’t stop noticing. She wore a tailored yellow blouse buttoned to her throat and tucked into a long, trim denim skirt. There was nothing sexy about the outfit, and in fact, it was quite understated. But it did nothing to mask her appeal. He doubted a burlap sack could have managed that feat.

Jordan was lost in erotic fantasies better left to the privacy of his bedroom than a crowded elevator, when he felt her hand slip into his. He wanted to shout with the pleasure of it. She was warming to him, accepting him, even if reluctantly.

Then he saw that Sawyer had noticed it, too, and was whistling softly. He even nudged Gabe, who lifted both brows.

Jordan scowled at them. He could read their thoughts as clearly as if they were stamped on their foreheads. They liked it that he was exhibiting some male possessiveness. They’d reacted in a similar way when he’d had his first fight, ages ago. A few neighborhood bullies had been picking on an old dog, and when they’d thrown a rock and the dog had yelped, Jordan lost his temper. He’d been a young kid, but not too young to hate injustice and cruelty.

No one had been more shocked than he when he’d kicked butt on the older boys, but his brothers revelled in his loss of control. Since then, it had only happened a handful of times, but each and every time his brothers damn near had a celebration. It was as if they’d always known he could be ferocious, and loved seeing it firsthand.

Jordan had been disgusted with his loss of control then, just as he was now. Not that he would have done anything differently, but…

Before he could get truly annoyed with his brothers for being so smug at his predicament, the elevator doors opened.

Walking quickly now, Georgia made a beeline for her mother’s room. Once there, she turned back to them as if not quite sure what to do with them. She glanced at Sawyer and Gabe, then to Jordan. “I might be awhile.”

Jordan nodded. “Take your time. I’m in no hurry.”

“Me, either,” Gabe said, making her frown.

“Gabe and I will be on our way shortly,” Sawyer promised her, “but I am interested in checking on your mother myself, if you’re not opposed to it. It’s not that I doubt the good care she’s getting here. But with emphysema, any number of small ailments can come up. If you’re comfortable with the idea, why then, I’m a whole lot closer than the hospital.”

Georgia looked so relieved by the repeated offer, Jordan wanted to kiss her. Anytime she was given genuine caring, she always seemed so surprised.

“Actually,” she said, “that would be wonderful. I worry so much about her. She says she won’t overdo, but then something like this happens. She’s so determined not to complain, to continue mothering me even when I don’t need it, even though I’m twenty-three…”

Jordan nearly choked when she gave her age. Twenty-three? That had to mean she’d gotten pregnant at sixteen. Good Lord, that was a lot to expect of someone who was little more than a child herself. Had she finished high school? Gotten any college at all?

He again thought of her stepping onto that stage, and tried to imagine how she personally felt about it. She was so damn young, so driven by hard-nosed pride. Did she enjoy the work at all or was she taking the only job she could that would pay the bills?

“Most mothers are that way,” Sawyer assured her while casting quick worried glances at Jordan. “My own is as stubborn as a goat and twice as ornery.”

Gabe nodded to that. When Georgia looked at Jordan, appalled by what she took as an insult to their mother, he managed to laugh to cover the emotions she’d made him feel. “You’d have to meet Mom to understand, sweetheart. We love her dearly, but—”

“But she did manage to raise the lot of you.” Georgia shook her head. “I suppose that takes great fortitude.”

They all laughed. “Exactly.”

“Let me check on Mom and talk to her privately for a moment, to make sure she doesn’t object to you coming in. I’ll be right back.”

Georgia slipped silently into the room and the second she was gone, Jordan began to pace. He could feel Sawyer and Gabe watching him.

“Any reason why you look so tormented?” Sawyer asked.

Jordan glared at him. “She’s only twenty-three!”

“You thought she looked older?”

“No, Gabe, it’s not that. It’s just…damn she’s young to do what she’s doing.”

Gabe asked, “What is it she’s doing?”

Sawyer, having been apprised by Morgan, as well as Howard and Jesse who’d gotten a firsthand show, said, “I think he’s talking about the dancing.”

“Ah.” Gabe caught Jordan’s eye and gave him a wide, masculine smile. “You know, I was thinking of going to watch her act, myself. I haven’t seen a live show in ages. Whadya think, Sawyer? You want to come, too?”

JORDAN TURNED so fast Gabe jumped in surprise. With his eyes blazing and his jaw locked, he growled, “Don’t even think about it, little brother.”

After biting his lips to keep from laughing, Gabe soothed, “All right. Don’t get in a lather over it.”

It took him a second, and then Jordan’s eyes narrowed. He realized Gabe had just gotten him but good. And Jordan had made it disgustingly easy for him to do. Choking Gabe sounded better by the minute.

Georgia opened the door. She looked at Jordan’s severe frown, then at Sawyer’s exasperation and Gabe’s innocent expression. Her own turned suspicious. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Not at all.” Sawyer stepped forward. “Am I allowed in?”

She didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. “Yes. Mom said she’d like to meet you.” Georgia glanced once more at Jordan, then turned away. She and Sawyer walked into her mother’s room, Sawyer’s hand at her waist.

Jordan was still looking at the closed door when Gabe murmured, “I see Morgan was right.”

Jordan rounded on his younger brother again. He felt dangerously close to losing his edge. “You wanna tell me exactly what the hell that means?”

“Ho!” Gabe backed up, pretending fear. And this time there was no way for him to hide his amusement. “Don’t bite my face off over a simple observation. If you’re still worried that I might go to the bar, I promise I was just yanking your chain. You can quit snarling at me now. Besides, Lizzy would have my head if I looked at another woman and you know it. She’s got a mean jealous streak.” Gabe sounded immensely pleased over that observation.

“If you don’t stop pricking my temper,” Jordan rumbled, “you won’t have to worry about Elizabeth. I’ll have your damn head.”

Gabe laughed. “Honest to God, Jordan, I’ve never seen you in such a fury. It’s kind of interesting.”

“You’re on thin ice, Gabe.”

In his defense, Gabe said, “Hey, I’m justified. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you stole my wife from me!”

Georgia gasped behind them. When they both turned to her, she stammered, “Mom wanted a moment alone with Sawyer.” She looked from one to the other of them. She appeared stricken, and embarrassed.

Gabe smiled as he explained. “My wife chose to work for Jordan in his clinic. Jordan knew that I wanted her with me, but he made up all these lame excuses and just swept her away.”

“That,” Jordan said, watching Georgia closely, “is only Gabe’s side of the story. Elizabeth has a knack with animals, a special rapport. She’s much better suited to being my assistant than she is playing receptionist for Gabe. That’s all he was referring to.”

Gabe shrugged. “Well, you did kiss her, too. Right in front of me.”

He snorted over that. “A brotherly kiss and you damn well know it.”

“Brotherly, huh? Well, in that case—” Gabe reached for Georgia, who quickly took two startled steps away from him. But he’d barely moved more than a foot before Jordan caught him by his collar and hauled him back.

“Not in this lifetime, Gabe.” The statement was low and mean, and made Gabe chuckle.

“That’s what I figured.” To Georgia, he said, “Can you believe he kissed my Lizzy? Not that I blame him. She’s about the most beautiful woman in these parts and pretty irresistible. You’ll see what I mean when you meet her. And luckily for Jordan here, I let him live because she turned right around after kissing him and agreed to marry me.”

Georgia gave a nervous smile. “I see.”

“No you don’t.” Jordan released Gabe and propped his hands on his hips. “Elizabeth had just helped me save all the animals in the clinic from a fire. It was a kiss of gratitude, no more.”

“Uh-huh.” Gabe pretended to think otherwise. “And what Morgan told me is that your Georgia here has incredibly pretty gray eyes. Now that I’ve seen her for myself, I agree. Very pretty.”

He and Georgia spoke at the same time.

“She’s not my Georgia.”

“I’m not his Georgia.”

Gabe said, “Oh, look. There’s Sawyer.”

They both turned and Sawyer nodded with a smile. “She’s doing fine. Incredibly well, in fact. Her doctor is a good man. I’ve always liked him.” Sawyer pulled out a card and handed it to Georgia. “Here’s my home number. Once she’s released, probably by the middle of the week, feel free to give me a call if you have any questions or if she has any problems, okay?”

Georgia’s eyes softened to pewter. “Thank you. That’s very generous of you.”

“You might want to share that number with the children, too, so that if anything like this happens again, they can give me a call if you’re at work.”

She nodded as she tucked the card securely into her bag. “They have my number at the bar, but Bill doesn’t always answer the phone at night during the show. We’ve argued over that several times.”

“I understand.” Sawyer glanced at Jordan. “Perhaps a pager would be good?”

Jordan saw the guilt flash across Georgia’s face and knew she couldn’t afford one. He spoke quickly. “Gabe, don’t you have an extra pager you’re not using anymore?”

Gabe looked dumbfounded for only a second, then nodded. “Oh, yeah. Right.” And with a grin: “Hey, it’s even paid up for the next six months.”

Georgia was already shaking her head, but Gabe slung an arm around her, which caused her to still immediately. “I insist. That’s what friends are for.”

She might have protested further, once she regained use of her tongue, but Sawyer chose that auspicious moment to tell Jordan, “Her mother wants to see you.”

“Me?”

“Yep. She was rather insistent on it.”

Georgia groaned. “Oh, God. She’s so overprotective….”

Jordan peered at the closed door with deep reservation. He hoped like hell this wasn’t the familial interrogation. At thirty-three, he was so rusty he had no idea if he’d know how to answer or not. Especially considering he hadn’t yet figured out what he felt for Georgia. Lust certainly, and compassion. But if there was more…

Georgia started to follow him in, but Sawyer gently caught her arm. “She specified that she wanted to see Jordan, and only Jordan.”

Jordan groaned in dread, mustered his manly courage and headed in. He wasn’t a damn coward. He could face one disgruntled mother, with or without all his thoughts in order. But when he peeked around the curtain to the bed, he found Ruth Samson half-sitting up, very clear-headed, and more than a little disgruntled.

Good heavens, the woman looked as ferocious as Morgan on his most intimidating days.

“MS. SAMSON?”

Her eyes, the same blue gray as her daughter’s, locked onto him and without preamble she stated, “My daughter has whisker burns this morning.”

Jordan gulped, and before he could stop himself he ran a hand over his now smooth-shaven jaw. Deciding to brazen it out, he said, “I only kissed her.”

“Must have been one heck of a kiss.” Ruth looked nothing like the frail, ill woman of yesterday. In truth, she appeared ready to get out of bed and whup Jordan’s backside. “Georgia couldn’t quite look at me without blushing.”

Against his better judgment, Jordan grinned. “Georgia does seem prone to a pretty blush now and then.”

Ruth sighed, and all the vinegar seemed to leave her from one second to the next. “It’s incredible, but regardless of all she’s been through, she’s still so sweet. Not that I want her to toughen up. She’s a wonderful daughter and a wonderful mother to my grandchildren.” Once she said it, Ruth glared, daring him to disagree.

Jordan nodded. “She amazes me, if you want the truth.”

“Yes. She’s amazing.” Her eyes sharpened and she asked, “Exactly how much do you know about my daughter?”

“Very little. I only just minutes ago found out she’s a mere twenty-three.”

“That bothers you? Well it shouldn’t. Georgia is very mature for her years.”

Jordan had no idea how to reply to that. “I also know that she works in a pretty disreputable bar.”

Ruth laughed. “And of course, you don’t approve?”

Jordan matched her stare without hesitation. “No, not at all.”

“Good.” She nodded in satisfaction. “Neither do I. But she has few choices.”

“Georgia mentioned that to me.”

Ruth looked surprised. “She did? That’s interesting. She usually won’t give a man the time of day. And believe me, plenty of them are after her.”

Jordan ground his teeth together. “I believe it.”

“I can tell there’s still a lot you don’t know. Pull up a chair and I’ll fill you in. But we better be quick because if I know my daughter, we maybe have about two minutes more before she barges back in.”

Jordan obediently pulled up a chair. He was anxious to learn more about Georgia, to find out how she’d ended up in these circumstances. She and her mother both felt she had few options, but Jordan intended to give her several, and they all had to do with her staying off that damn stage.

Ruth’s first burst of indignant anger had faded and had left her looking decidedly limp. She was now pale, her hands shaking. Jordan reminded himself that the woman had been extremely ill only the night before, and that he had to make certain she didn’t overdo. He had the feeling she’d push herself, given half a chance, to defend her daughter. Against him.

“Ms. Samson,” he said, hoping to reassure her, “you don’t have to worry about me being with Georgia. I only want to help.”

She sighed wearily, then started in coughing. Jordan was ready to call for a nurse when she waved him back into his seat.

She had to use her oxygen for a moment, taking slow shallow breaths, and afterward she took quite a bit of time resettling her blankets around her. Finally she said, “I seriously doubt Georgia wants your help.”

“Well, no, she doesn’t.”

“But you’re insisting?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded, apparently pleased by that. “Georgia got pregnant when she was only sixteen.”

Since he’d already done the math, Jordan didn’t show a single sign of surprise.

“My husband was an old-fashioned man. A sour, un-demonstrative man who never really understood Georgia. We had her late in life. I was nearly forty, and my husband was eleven years my senior. We’d thought we were past the stage of having children. So she took us both by surprise.”

“A pleasant surprise?”

“Oh, surely. But adjusting wasn’t easy. Avery was set in his ways, and part of those ways was being miserly to the point of wanting Georgia to wear secondhand clothes, and insisting we drive our old Buick forever, and that we make do with one old black-and-white television. It had never mattered much to me. But I hated seeing Georgia do without. She didn’t fit in with the other kids because of how we lived, and it wasn’t even necessary. We could have afforded better for her, but I’d always been a housewife, and Avery had always controlled the money.”

Jordan nodded. “I understand.” And he did. He knew plenty of older women like Ruth, women who’d been raised to believe that wives were meant to stay at home, to cater to their husbands. He could only imagine how a child thrown into the mix might have complicated things.

“Well, I don’t. I could have done more. And I could have done it sooner.” Ruth looked past Jordan’s shoulder, her eyes so sad. “We argued endlessly over Georgia, which was probably harder for her than the divorce. I was a coward, and the idea of being on my own was terrifying. But I finally did it. I should have left him years earlier, but I kept thinking that I needed to keep our home intact. I didn’t want Georgia to have to start over in a new school system just because I couldn’t afford the area anymore. Then, when she started dating Dennis Peach I wished like crazy that I had moved.”

“She got pregnant?”

“Yes. Dennis was every young girl’s dream. He was good-looking, athletic, nice. He took her to all the dances and the parties, places she hadn’t been before. Georgia went head over heels in love with him almost overnight.

“We were still hashing out the divorce when Georgia eloped. I couldn’t believe it. But to give her her due, she made things work for awhile there.”

Jordan imagined that Georgia had enough sheer will and determination to make anything work when she put her mind to it. He thought about her at that age, so young, so innocent. At sixteen, he’d been into more mischief than his mother ever guessed, but he’d been careful, with himself and the girls he’d been with.

He resolved to have another talk with Casey real soon. It wouldn’t hurt to drive the point home one more time.

“Dennis wasn’t too bad,” Ruth said. “They lived like paupers, but then Georgia was used to that. And she seemed so happy, especially after Lisa was born. My gosh, she adored that baby. She took to mothering as natural as could be.”

Jordan didn’t want to hear about how happy she’d been with her husband. He was glad the man was long gone from the picture. “So what happened?”

“Her in-laws happened. They made life as tough for Georgia as they could. While she was willing to make sacrifices for the marriage, Dennis wasn’t used to living without. They coddled him something awful, and ignored Lisa—even to the point of questioning whether or not she was his. I tried to help out as much as I could, but I was dealing with the issue of my divorce and somehow Georgia ended up helping me.”

Ruth looked so wretched over that admission, Jordan reached out patted her hand. “Your daughter loves you very much.”

“I know.” She spoke barely above a whisper. “My husband had always smoked and right after the divorce I started getting sick. I tried to find a job, but I had no experience and I’d get winded so easy. More so than most people, I’m prone to getting bronchitis and even pneumonia. That’s when they found out how bad my lungs are. Only by then, I didn’t have any health insurance because I’d been covered under my husband’s policy. I was so, so stupid not to think of that.”

Jordan wondered if Georgia was paying for insurance for her mother. He frowned with the thought, mentally adding up all her responsibilities.

“I was a burden to my daughter at a time when she needed me most.”

“No.” Jordan shook his head, knowing exactly what Georgia would have to say about that. “That’s not true. Family helps family. Period. She was there for you, just as you’re here for her now. She’s told me several times how much you contribute.”

Ruth tilted her head. “You sound like a man with a close family.”

“Yes. Like you, my mother is divorced.” His mother, however, had always been one of the strongest, most independent women he knew. Of course, she’d had a fabulous first husband who’d shown her exactly what marriage should be. And that had thankfully gotten her through her marriage to Jordan’s father.

Jordan forced a smile for Ruth’s benefit. “She’s also happily remarried. Through it all, we’ve stayed a very close family.”

“I like you, Jordan.”

She said that as if he’d passed a test. “I like you, too.”

“And you like my daughter?”

When he hesitated, not quite sure how she meant it and afraid of committing himself to her, she laughed. “That’s all right. I didn’t mean to pressure you. But I will tell you that it’s not going to be easy.”

“I already figured that out.”

She laughed again. “The end of this long tale is that shortly after Georgia got pregnant with Adam—an accident, and a blessing from God—Dennis’s parents convinced him that he was overburdened, that Georgia had gotten pregnant on purpose just to chain him down.” Under her breath she muttered, “As if a broken condom was her fault.”

That was definitely not an image Jordan wanted haunting his brain. He frowned.

“Dennis had always been pampered, and as their bills started to pile up and things got tougher and tougher, he got more and more distant, more willing to run home to his parents. And unfortunately, more willing to run up additional bills. Their combined incomes just weren’t enough, and one day he went home to his folks and never came back.”

Jordan nodded in satisfaction. “So she divorced him?”

“Yes. Georgia was really hurt. She loved him and yet he just walked away. She agreed to a peaceful divorce, and allowed the courts to divide the bills down the middle even though many of them had been his recent purchases. She wanted to make the transition as easy on the children as she could. But the really sad part is that Dennis agreed to it all, wished Georgia well, then stole several thousand dollars from his parents and took off. Not only did he not pay his half of the bills, he’s never paid a dime of child support.”

“He doesn’t see the kids?”

“No. No one’s heard from him since he left. His parents blamed Georgia, and added to her burden—until I told them I’d have the police after their precious son for skipping out on his responsibilities.”

She looked downright feral again, and Jordan nodded. “Good for you.”

“No, it was an error in judgment. His parents apologized and promised to pay Dennis’s share of things. Georgia argued with them. They were Dennis’s bills, not his parents. But they insisted, and she believed them. She…trusted them. In the end, they were only biding their time until they could petition the court for custody of Adam and Lisa. They even tried to accuse Georgia of being an unfit mother.”

Rage churned forth in Jordan, taking him by surprise. In a voice of icy rage, he said, “They obviously failed in their efforts.”

“Yes. But not without a lot of cost and heartache to my daughter. And they didn’t give up. They dogged her steps everywhere she went, making her lose jobs, constantly posing a threat to her peace of mind. Not once have they ever shown genuine concern or caring for the children. The few times they visited them, they tried to fill their heads with poison, bad-mouthing Georgia while making Dennis sound like a saint that she’d run off. Can you imagine? Their own blood kin, yet all they’re interested in is using the kids to try to hurt Georgia.”

“They’re beautiful children,” Jordan said with sincerity. He’d been surprised at how much he’d enjoyed making pancakes with them that morning. Lisa and Adam were lively and bright and polite. “She’s done a good job with them.”

“Yes, she has. And she’d die before letting anyone hurt those kids. So finally we thought it was best to simply move away. It makes me so mad, I want to spit.”

Jordan could easily see where Georgia got her backbone. He patted Ruth’s hand and tried to calm her. “Don’t get yourself all riled up. You’ll get winded again and the doctors will throw me out.” He smiled. “Besides, Georgia is here now, away from them, and the kids seem very happy. I wish she hadn’t gone through so much, but all in all, I admit I’m pleased with the outcome.”

“Moving here was a blessing,” Ruth agreed. “And you know, it was my ex-husband who made it possible.”

Jordan raised a brow. He hoped the man had somehow redeemed himself, had supported his daughter and her decisions—mistakes included—after all. “How’s that?”

“He died.”

Not the happy ending he’d been looking for. Jordan sighed, wishing Georgia had been able to resolve things with her father before his death, but he had the feeling even that had been denied her.

“He hadn’t ever gotten around to changing his will. He had money that he’d hidden during our divorce. It all came to me. Not that there was a fortune or anything. But it was enough to finance the move and put a down payment on the house. I just hate seeing Georgia work so hard to keep it all together.”

“I intend to help her with that.”

Ruth shook her head. “She won’t like it. Everyone she’s ever relied on has let her down. Her father, her husband, her in-laws. She’s determined to be totally independent this time.”

“You never turned your back on her.”

“No, but I made some awful mistakes.”

Jordan pushed to his feet, anxious to see Georgia again now that he had a better understanding of her. “Making mistakes is the name of game. We’re human, so it happens. Trying to atone for mistakes is what makes you a mother.”

She grinned at that. “True. So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“One thing, Jordan, before you leave.”

“Yes?” He turned to face her.

“If you think there’s any chance at all you might hurt her, it’d be better if you walked away right now.”

Jordan stared down at his feet. He didn’t want to hurt her. Ever. But even more than that, he didn’t want to walk away. He wanted to gather her closer, much closer. He wanted to bind her to him in some undeniable way.

He made plans for the coming weeks, how he’d ingratiate not only himself, but his best selling tool—his family. They were irresistible, and once Georgia got comfortable sharing with them, relying on them and letting them rely on her, she’d soften. She had to.

Jordan shook his head. No doubt about it, he was in over his head. But damned if he wasn’t starting to like it.

WITH AN OUTRAGED and appalled gasp, Georgia slapped the stage curtain back into place. “Damn him!” Her heart felt lodged in her throat, and with a lot of trepidation, she looked down at her costume.

“Oh, God.” It looked worse than she’d first thought, given that Jordan was about to see her in it. Again she pulled the curtain aside and peeked out. But Jordan was still there, sitting at a front-row table as had become his preference, scowling at every other man in the room. He resembled a dog guarding a bone.

What in the world was wrong with him? She should have been able to ignore him, and in fact, when he’d first shown up as part of the audience, she hadn’t even realized he was there until she’d almost finished. She made it a point not to look at the men in the audience; it was the only way she could get through putting herself on display that way. But she’d felt something different that night, something that had affected her deep inside. Against her will her gaze had sought out the source of her discomfort—and clashed with Jordan’s hot green stare.

She’d missed a step and nearly fallen on her face. He’d looked as menacing as Morgan ever had. Of course, now that she knew Morgan better, she knew most of his dark countenance was bluster. Not so with Jordan. His brothers insisted on telling her—in private little whispers-that Jordan was the most even tempered one, the pacifist, the gentlest of men. Ha! Twice now, he’d almost started another fight.

Bill had threatened to ban him from the bar and Georgia had silently prayed that he’d follow through. But then Jordan had slipped her boss a twenty, and Bill had grinned and walked away. Curse him.

The music was getting louder, her cue had come and gone, and she could hear the rumble of impatient voices out front. If she didn’t get going, she’d have to start the CD over.

She lifted her chin. So what if this particular costume left her stomach bare? That you could see her navel? So what that more of her backside showed than was covered? All that meant was that her tips tonight would be especially good and she’d finally be able to afford the electrical work needed on the house. If Jordan didn’t like what she wore…well, too bad. She wasn’t too crazy about him right now anyway.

Determination masking her churning nervousness, Georgia thrust the curtain aside and made an entrance onto the stage. She had every intention of ignoring Jordan completely.

Of course, that was before he fell off his chair.

He took one look at her, dropped his cola and toppled. Luckily no one seemed to pay him any mind as he hauled himself back up and into his seat.

Georgia deliberately turned her back on him—and heard a roar of applause along with some loud wolf whistles, likely because the bottom of her costume was no more than a thong. Embarrassment washed over her, so hot she felt light-headed and couldn’t see beyond the fog of shame. She knew she was blushing. Everywhere. The dance steps that normally came so easily to her now felt forced and awkward; she had to concentrate hard to keep to her rhythm.

At least, she told herself as she executed a high kick, her top was more concealing. It had midlength sleeves and a V-shaped neck with lapels. The whole outfit was stark white, including the stupid little hat that Bill had insisted on. She wore white gloves, white high-heel sandals, and garters with black velvet ribbons.

It looked cheesy, like something out of a fetish catalogue. But already money landed at the front of the stage. Georgia moved farther back, being careful not to lose her footing on the scattering of bills.

By the time she finished her number, she figured there had to be a good three hundred dollars at her feet. Not bad for a night’s pay. She almost smiled. Almost.

And then she accidentally caught Jordan’s eye.

He looked livid, with his eyes sort of red and unfocused. Georgia frowned at him. How such a dominating, stubborn, pushy man could have such nice relatives was beyond her.

With one last bow, she turned and ducked behind the curtain. Her changing room was really a cleaning closet overflowing with supplies. Next to her street clothes hanging on a metal hook, rested a mildewy mop and several stained rags. One bare bench, raw enough to leave splinters in her behind if she was ever foolish enough to sit on it, occupied the space next to the door.

Georgia tossed the foolish hat aside, then leaned against the wall and struggled to catch her breath. Dancing, even at the bar, always left her exuberant. She loved to dance, to feel her movements become fluid like the music. And thanks to Jordan, she no longer had to go on stage in a state of exhaustion. He and his family had forced so much help on her, had been so supportive and friendly and accepting, she’d gotten plenty of rest the past few weeks.

But while she was grateful, she was also resentful because it was Jordan’s fault that she hesitated to answer tonight’s screaming applause with an encore. She just couldn’t make herself go back out there. Not with Jordan watching.

Bill pounded on her door. “Front and center, damn it! They’re calling for you.”

Georgia stared at the closed door. She could probably convince Bill that it was better to leave them wanting more….

Then Jordan’s voice intruded. “If she doesn’t want to go back out there, then leave her alone.”

She gasped in outrage. How dare he confront her boss? Was he trying to get her fired?

She answered her own question with an obvious, resounding yes. Not once had Jordan tried to hide his disdain of The Swine. This time, however, he’d stepped completely over the line.

The door bounced hard against the wall when she threw it open. Both Jordan and Bill jumped, but Georgia stomped right past them to the steps leading up on stage. It was uncanny, but she could actually feel the searing heat of Jordan’s gaze on her exposed rump.

The second she opened the curtain, the men bellowed their appreciation. More money came flying her way and Georgia, with grim resolve, submitted to the attention.

After three encores she was finally left in peace.

For all of one minute.

She’d just stepped out of her high-heel sandals and started to relax when Jordan walked in without knocking. His gaze did the quick once-over, searing her from head to toes and everywhere in-between. Georgia glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

Despite his heated expression, his tone sounded mild enough. “I was already out.”

She didn’t buy it for a second. “Try again, Jordan.”

“All right.” He didn’t appear the least put off by her hostile attitude. But then, she’d already realized how pig-headed he could be in his determination. “I stopped by to see your mother. She had the kids in bed, so I missed visiting with them. We took tea in the patio room, and when she started yawning, I told she should turn in, too. Though she’s doing so much better, Sawyer says she should continue to get plenty of rest.”

His words were easy and rehearsed. But his gaze burned over her, lingering in places that always felt too sensitive whenever Jordan Sommerville was in the vicinity.

Realizing she still wore the stupid gloves, she jerked them off and stuffed them into her bag. Jordan leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched her every movement with an intensity that set her stomach to roiling. She couldn’t very well finish changing with him standing there.

“It’s rude to stare,” she grumbled.

“Honey, the whole point of that getup is to make men stare.”

She lost it, stepping forward and poking him hard in the chest. “Not you! Other men, okay, men who want to watch me dance, men who—”

Rubbing at his chest and frowning at the same time, Jordan interjected, “I came to watch you dance.”

“No, you came to watch everyone else watch me dance!” Her head pounded, keeping time with her heart. She felt ready to burst into tears, to scream. He and his family were so wonderful, so giving, they made her feel terrible in comparison. All her life she’d screwed up. Having Jordan around only emphasized that, and weakened her resolve to learn independence. But she needed to know she could protect her children now, and in the future.

“You,” she said in a tone nearing a snarl, “came to make sure no one did anything improper like speak to me.”

Jordan took his own step forward. “Are you telling me you want to converse with these yahoos?”

“I’m telling you it’s none of your damn business what I do!”

Jordan stalled, then in a voice as soft as warm velvet, he whispered, “I want it to be my business, though. Keeping my hands off you the past few weeks has been torture. Hell, Georgia…”

Her heart slammed into her ribs. He reached for her, touched her face with a gentleness she’d never known, and her knees went weak. “Jordan?”

Even to her own ears, his name sounded like a plea. The past few weeks had been hell, with the memory of his touch haunting her. She’d dreamed about that morning in the kitchen, and every night the dreams got hotter, more real.

Jordan cupped her jaw. “Don’t ask me to go away, sweetheart. And don’t ask me not to care.”

Georgia watched his eyes darken, now so close to her own since he loomed over her. She exhaled on a trembling sigh. “You’re making me crazy,” she admitted. “I don’t even know what I’m thinking or saying anymore.”

His gaze flickered, becoming more intimate, hotter. “I don’t mean to upset you.”

“I know that.” She almost laughed, it was so absurd. Jordan and his family had irrevocably changed her life—all for the better. Casey cut her grass, Gabe fixed her leaky pipes, they all doted on the children and on her mother. And on her.

But what if she came to depend on them, if she let her children start to love them, and then they went away? What would she do then? She’d be no better off, and she’d have the memories to torment her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but quickly opened them again when Jordan’s big thumb teased at the corner of her mouth. “Jordan,” she said, hoping to make him understand, “dancing on that stage is hard enough for me. Especially in this getup. I do what I have to do, but I don’t like it. When you’re here, passing judgment and waiting to condemn, well…it only makes me more nervous.”

Jordan shook her gently. “I’m not condemning you. How could you even think that?”

“You condemn all this.” She’d learned so much about him from his family. Her visits with them had started out strained, but Honey wasn’t a woman who left anyone feeling uncomfortable, and his brothers were too outrageous to be kept at an emotional distance. They treated her with all the teasing irreverence normally reserved for a little sister. And she loved it.

Where Jordan tended to close up about anything personal, his brothers took delight in sharing his deepest darkest secrets. Gabe had told her that Jordan never drank. And Morgan had told her because of his father, he protested any abuse of alcohol.

Georgia shook her head. “You may not condemn me specifically, but the bar, the men here, the atmosphere…And I’m a part of it, Jordan.” She hesitated, unsure how much she wanted to push him, especially in a damn closet, but she just couldn’t take it anymore.

She stepped away from him and concentrated on what she had to say while putting away her high heels. “You’ve done so much for me. I never would have gotten through the past weeks without your help.”

“Nonsense. You’re about the most resourceful woman I’ve ever met. I have no doubt you’d have managed just fine. But you know I wanted to help.”

His praise made her feel more vulnerable than ever. “And I appreciate it more than I can say. You’re…well, you’re wonderful.”

Jordan stared at her hard. “But?”

She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to say the words. “But I want to make it on my own. It’s important to me. I’ve made some really dumb mistakes in the past, mistakes that have hurt me, my children and my mother. I’m trying to fix all that.”

“You can’t fix the past, sweetheart. All you can do is make the future different.”

She nodded. “I know. And that’s what I’m going to do. My mother insists she’s feeling as good as ever, and I’ve cut back on the hours I work during the day so she’s not overburdened with the kids. And thanks to Bill’s stupid costume choices, I’m making more money in the evenings so my budget is more sound than ever. I’m managing, Jordan, and that’s what I want to concentrate on.”

Jordan gave her a long, considering look. As if she hadn’t just spilled her guts to him, he said, “Your mother likes me.”

Georgia had no idea how to respond to that. Truth was, her mother adored him.

“Your kids are crazy about me.”

She smiled. “I know. They’re also crazy about your family. Honey has been promoted to honorary aunt. Morgan, that big ox, astounds me every time he manages to be so gentle with them. And Sawyer and Casey…” She shook her head. “They’re incredible men.”

Jordan stepped closer until his chest brushed her breasts. “We’re your friends now. You can’t just expect us all to go away.”

“I wouldn’t want that!” It was so difficult to think clearly with him this close. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to ask him to hold her. But he hadn’t touched her sexually since that morning in her kitchen, and she knew that was for the best.

“My children,” she said slowly, measuring her words, “have never had enough people in their lives who cared about them. My ex-in-laws…” She shook her head, not willing to go into details. “They weren’t nice people. They’ve never really cared about Lisa or Adam.”

“They must be idiots, then, because your children are very lovable.”

Anyone who loved her kids automatically got her love as well. And that fact scared her to death.

Feeling almost desperate, she put a hand on his arm and explained, “I want to keep the friendship.” She wanted that so badly her stomach felt like lead whenever she thought of losing it. As a child, she’d craved friendship so badly, always watching from the sidelines as someone else got picked for tag, as other girls gathered in clusters to giggle, excluding her. As a teenager, she’d put everything into her dance, detaching herself from the hurt, telling herself that she didn’t care. She’d gone from being almost totally isolated from friends, to being Dennis’s wife, then to being on her own again.

Gaining friendship only to lose it once more would be unbearable. “I just…I just don’t want you here at night, watching me. I don’t want it to go beyond friendship.”

Jordan cradled her face between his large hands. She felt helpless against the drugging pull of his nearness, the warmth of his body, his scent. Everything he’d ever made her feel came swamping back with his first gentle touch.

“I’ll tell you what I think.” His sensual tone made her heart race. “I think everything you’ve just said is bullshit.”

She stared at him, appalled, wondering if he could really see through her so easily.

“I think,” he growled as he pulled her into the hardness and heat of his body, “that you want me every bit as much as I want you. Friends? Hell yes, we’ll be friends. And a whole lot more.”

She wasn’t at all surprised when he kissed her.

JORDAN WANTED to devour her. The need she created just by being close nearly made him crazy. It was a live thing, a teeth-gnashing hunger that he had no control over. He groaned, sucking her tongue into his mouth and stroking it with his own.

Georgia’s arms slipped around his neck, her soft breasts nestling into his chest. Her costume top was skimpy and he slipped his hands beneath it to feel the warm skin of her back, then couldn’t resist sliding his hands down to her sweetly curved ass. His body pulsed with need, his erection growing painfully. Her bottom was bare except for the thong and her cheeks were hot, soft. He traced the thin line of material with his fingertips as deeply as he could, and took her rough groan into his mouth.

She went on tiptoe against him, pushing into him. Her nipples were hard and he used his other hand to explore her breasts. He wanted her naked. He wanted to see her nipples, to taste them.

He kissed her neck as he brought both hands up to the lapels on her top and pulled them open. The low vee of the costume made it easy to expose her and the second her breasts were freed, pushed up by the material bunched tightly beneath them, Georgia gasped. Jordan didn’t give her time to pull away. He dipped his head down and licked one dark rosy nipple.

Her fingers clenched in his hair. “Jordan.”

“Shhh.” Even with his blood roaring in his ears, Jordan cautioned himself to go slow, to tease her, to make her admit to the incredible passion between them. All the well-grounded reasons to give her more time, to avoid sexual interludes, were chased away by the sight of her.

Her nipples were large, tightly puckered. He licked again, then again, using the rough tip of his tongue to torment her. Tantalizing sounds of hunger escaped her. He caught her with his teeth and nipped gently, then not so gently. Georgia trembled. When she tried to pull him closer he sucked her deep into the heat of his mouth.

“Jordan…” she whispered on a vibrating moan.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

He cupped her between her legs. She was so hot, and she pushed against his probing fingers, her thighs opening without his instruction. He could feel her swollen flesh, feel the dampness of her even through the material. The bottoms were tight but he insinuated his fingers beneath the right leg opening and found her wet and ready—for him. He straightened and held her tightly with his free arm.

Her hips moved with his fingers, seeking more of his touch. Jordan felt swollen and thick, achingly hard. The damn saloon could have blown up and he might not have noticed. He was only aware of the feel of her, her scent, now stronger with her excitement.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he encouraged roughly, seeing that she was already climbing toward a climax. Her eyes were cloudy, unfocused, her lips parted as she panted for breath. His fingers moved more deeply, stroking, sliding insistently over her slick flesh then up to her swollen clitoris. Delicately now, he touched her, light, rhythmic touches.

Georgia groaned and squeezed her eyes closed. Jordan watched her face, saw her skin flush darkly, her lush mouth tremble. Her pulse raced in her throat, and her hands bit into his upper arms, caught between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

“Come for me, Georgia,” he groaned, knowing he, too, was perilously close to the edge. “I want to see you come.”

Her beautiful breasts heaved, her throat arched, and then she bit her bottom lip and groaned harsh and low and Jordan supported her, mesmerized as she jerked and shuddered and it went on and on. He felt so much a part of her that he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

Long seconds passed. Gently, he pulled his fingers from her. Her eyelashes fluttered and she looked at him, still slightly dazed. Her forehead and temples were dewy, her breathing still labored. Jordan met her gaze, held it as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean.

Georgia shuddered. She clung to him with a rough tenderness he’d never known before. She was pliant, accepting of his will.

He gave her a kiss of lingering need and apology. Holding her, seeing her like this, brought him back to reality. The very last thing she wanted or needed was to be taken quickly in a damn saloon closet. Not that he regretted giving her pleasure. How could he?

“We have to stop.” Jordan couldn’t quite believe the words came from his own mouth. Not when he wanted her so badly. But the past few weeks had been a carefully wrought campaign to win her over, and he wouldn’t blow it now. If he made love to her here—and he was about a nanosecond away from doing just that—her embarrassment would drive a new wedge between them.

He took a deep breath and said, “I can’t take you here, sweetheart.” He kissed her damp, open mouth in quick little pecks, hoping to soften his next words. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

The slumberous, sated look left her eyes. Her cheeks, warmly flushed only seconds before, went pale. He knew before she answered that she’d refuse.

Georgia pushed away from him and covered her face with both hands. In a tone more startling for the lack of emotion, she whispered, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Alarmed, Jordan smoothed her hair away from her face with trembling hands. “I can’t believe I stopped.”

She looked up at him. “You must think I’m awful.”

“No.” She started to say something more, but he didn’t let her. “Shh. It’s okay.” Even with her heavy stage makeup, she looked precious to him. “Actually, it was better than okay. Much much better.”

“But you didn’t—” She glanced down at his very visible erection.

“Believe me, I know.” Jordan ran a hand through his hair and tamped down his sexual frustration. He met her wary, shame-filled gaze, knowing his own was hot, piercing. “The thing is,” he said, his voice sounding like sandpaper, “making you come was a helluva fantasy. And I wasn’t disappointed.”

“It was wrong.”

“No. Hell, no. Nothing wrong can feel that right and you know it.” He shook her gently. “Don’t ask me to apologize, Georgia. We’ve both been on the ragged edge since first meeting and it was only a matter of time before this—and more—was bound to happen.”

She attempted to turn away. “Please, don’t come here again. I can’t trust myself around you.”

She asked the impossible. The first time he’d sat there and watched her dance, he swore he’d never come back. It ate him up to see all those men drooling over her, to know what they were thinking, that she was the center of so many drunken, lurid fantasies.

But he’d discovered that staying away was even harder. He couldn’t sleep for wanting her; she occupied his thoughts both day and night. The few times he managed to get her out of his mind, he found himself thinking about the kids instead, smiling, missing them. And Ruth, too. She was such a gutsy woman, altering a lifetime of social conformity to stand up for her daughter.

“I’m not just here because of you.” The second the words left his mouth, Jordan felt hemmed in by his own deceptions. He came because of Georgia, but he did have another purpose.

He truly detested the place, the smells of sour alcohol, sweat and dirt, the foul language and the overall atmosphere of depression. He considered The Swine a major nuisance, perhaps even a threat to the peace. It wasn’t a quaint small-town saloon. It didn’t provide lively conversation or a relaxing ambiance.

It was run-down, dirty and bred trouble because of a distinct lack of conscience on the owner’s part. It didn’t matter how staggering drunk the patrons might be, they could always get one more drink.

But because of Jordan’s personal bias against alcohol, he’d have left others to deal with the bar if it hadn’t been for Georgia. With her working at night, dressed so provocatively, he couldn’t bear the thought of any of his friends or acquaintances seeing her.

Georgia looked shaken to her soul. She turned away and began pulling on her clothes over the costume. “If…if you’re not here because of me, then why?”

“I’m here,” he said gently, trying to ignore the demanding throb of his body, and the pleasant buzz of satisfaction despite his still raging lust, “because the Town Advisory Board had another meeting.”

She turned to him with open anxiety.

“After Zenny and Walt and the others told them what they’d seen that first night, they’ve been outraged about the whole thing.”

“Zenny and Walt?”

Jordan nodded. “I told you I was here with other men that first night? Well, they’re the elders of the town, fairly set in their ways, too. When the trouble started they didn’t even wait around to see how it’d turn out. They took off and by that next morning everyone in Buckhorn knew what had happened.”

Her mouth opened and she breathed deeply. She stared at the far wall. “They know about me dancing?”

He nodded. “That, and the fact the police were called. I’d say folks are suffering equal parts of morbid fascination and outrage.”

Georgia closed her eyes on a grimace.

He wanted to protect her from the opinions of others, but she deserved to know what was going on. Given a choice, many of the townsfolk would prefer the bar be shut down. That’d put Georgia out of a job, and into one hell of a predicament. “Sawyer and I cautioned them not to get up in arms, but then last night Morgan arrested two men who were menacing a mule.”

Georgia’s eyes snapped open again. “Menacing a mule?”

“That’s right. They drove straight into a pasture, knocking down fence posts and tearing up the ground. The mule is a gentle old relic, but those bastards drove around with their horn blaring and their bright lights on, chasing her and scaring her near to death.”

His fists clenched. He couldn’t abide cruelty of any kind, but especially cruelty against women, children—or animals. “They’re lucky Morgan found them instead of me. I’d have been tempted to teach them a better lesson than a night in jail, three-month suspension of their licenses, and a large fine.”

Georgia’s gray eyes were soft and sympathetic. “I thought you were the least militant one in the family.”

“They were chasing a poor mule, Georgia, and they destroyed a good deal of property. Of course I’m feeling militant.”

She touched his chest, her small hand gently stroking. Since his lust was unappeased, she nearly sent him into oblivion. “They had been drinking here?”

“That’s right.” Jordan felt far too hot. He wanted her hand on his bare skin. And he wanted it a good deal south of his chest. Just the thought of her slender fingers curling around his hard swollen flesh made him quiver like a virgin. He hurt with wanting her. “Your boss,” he rasped, “knew they were drunk when they left here.”

She nodded. “Bill could care less as long he’s getting paid.

Jordan struggled for breath. He flattened his own hand over hers, stilling her caressing movements. “Morgan is meeting with the sheriff here. He thinks they might hit the bar with a heavy fine.” Jordan braced himself against her reaction and admitted, “A lot of people are pushing for it to be shut down.”

With an embarrassed little shrug, Georgia said, “I understand.” Then she moved away from him. “I need to get going. It’s late and I’m tired and I’ve got some things to do when I get home.”

He hated seeing her withdrawal. “Georgia…” He was uncertain what to say. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. But if I lose this job…I don’t know where I’ll be able to make as much money.” She went about pulling on her shoes and slipping on her lightweight jacket. Jordan watched her movements with barely leashed possessiveness.

“You could work for me.” He didn’t really need more help, but he’d hire her in a heartbeat. In fact, he really liked the idea once he said it out loud.

Her eyes looked silver rather than gray in the dim light. “I’m sure Elizabeth will have something to say about that.”

“She’d be glad for the help.”

“Nonsense. You bragged to me yourself that she keeps everything running smoothly.” With her purse and her bag hanging from her shoulder, Georgia clasped her hands together and silently requested that he stop blocking the door.

Even in his wildest dreams, Jordan couldn’t have imagined how badly he’d dread leaving a damn closet. But he had no reason to keep her inside now that she was ready to go. He opened the door and stepped out. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“I would object, but I suppose you’d start insisting?” In spite of all that had just happened, she sounded shyly teasing, and Jordan smiled in relief.

“Of course.”

Because they were looking at each other rather than where they walked, they almost bumped into Honey and Elizabeth.

“Hey,” Elizabeth said. “Great show, Georgia!”

Jordan gaped at them. His sisters-in-law? In The Swine? He said, “Uh…”

Honey pulled Georgia—who was speechless with astonishment—into a tight hug. “I had no idea you were so talented. And I love the costume!” In an audible whisper, she said, “No one would ever guess you’d had two kids. You looked fantastic.” Then in a further confidence, she added, “Sawyer would keel over dead if I wore anything that sexy.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Gabe would probably faint. After.”

“After?” Georgia asked, still looking bewildered.

“Yeah, after he wore himself out.” She chuckled. “The man does like to—”

Jordan said again, “Uh…”

“Oh, relax, Jordan,” Honey told him, patting at his chest. The touch didn’t feel at all the same as when Georgia did it.

He caught Honey’s hand and gathered together his wits. “What are you two doing here?”

In unison, they said, “We came to watch Georgia dance.”

“I…I didn’t see you,” Georgia told them, glancing nervously at Jordan.

Jordan felt poleaxed. When his brothers found out, there’d be hell to pay and somehow he’d probably get blamed. “Neither did I.”

“Well, we didn’t just sit out in the open, silly.” Honey looked at him as though he should have figured that one out on his own. “We didn’t want to make Georgia nervous. We were in the back corner booth. The bouncer—what was his name, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Gus.”

“Yes, Gus made sure no one bothered us.”

Jordan glanced at the big no-neck ape who he’d tangled with that first night, and got a sharp nod. Jordan nodded in return. Good grief.

“Anyway,” Honey said, waving away the remainder of that topic, “I was positively amazed how well you dance. It’s incredible. Even when Jordan fell off his chair, you barely missed a beat.”

Elizabeth snickered.

His face red and his temper on the rise, Jordan asked, “Where does Sawyer think you are?”

“At the movies.”

His grin wasn’t nice. “Not for long.”

Honey gasped. “Don’t you dare tell! You know he’ll have a fit.”

“Rightfully so.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I don’t care if you tell. Gabe’s not my boss.”

Honey considered that, then shrugged, too. “Well, Sawyer’s not my boss, either, but he is somewhat overprotective.”

“Somewhat? Ha!” Elizabeth flipped her long red hair over her shoulder then leaned toward Georgia. “Before you get too involved with this family, you should know that they’re autocrats. All in different ways, of course, but they sure do like to hover, if you know what I mean.”

Jordan couldn’t wait to deliver Elizabeth back to Gabe. “I do not hover.”

Elizabeth raised an auburn brow and gave a pointed look at Jordan’s arm squeezing Georgia’s shoulders.

Muttering to himself, he asked, “Instead of debating this now, why don’t we get the hell out of here? Bill’s not too happy with me tonight anyway.”

“He’s not?” asked Georgia.

Jordan didn’t want to explain exactly what her boss had said about a drinking limit, or how Jordan had reacted to his apathy. Luckily Honey saved him.

“He’s a smarmy one, isn’t he?” Honey asked.

Jordan stopped dead in midstep. In lethal tones, he asked, “Did he say something to you? Did he insult you?”

Both Honey and Elizabeth rushed to reassure him, patting his chest and shaking their heads. “No, of course not. He just looks like a weasel.”

Georgia laughed. She looked at each of them, saw that they had no idea what she found humorous, and laughed some more. Jordan smiled, too. The ways that she affected him were numerous. Georgia breathed and he got aroused. But what her laughter did to him was enough to cause spontaneous combustion.

Still chuckling, she said, “I really do like your family, Jordan.”

Elizabeth and Honey grinned widely.

The moist night air was very refreshing after being in the stale bar. A light breeze teased through the trees, ruffling Georgia’s loose curls. She lifted her face into the breeze, breathing deeply. Jordan watched her, wanting her more than ever.

When they reached the parked cars, he played the consummate gentleman. He opened car doors and kissed cheeks and when his sisters-in-law were finally ready to head home, he cautioned them to drive safely.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Honey told him to do the same. They waved to Georgia and drove off.

When Jordan looked down at Georgia, there was still a small, very sweet smile curving her mouth. He tipped up her chin with the side of his hand. “Do you know how badly I want to kiss you right now?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re breathless, which means you want me to kiss you, too. Don’t you?”

“I’m breathless,” she said somewhat smugly, “because Honey and Elizabeth were so complimentary. It’s been a long long time since anyone praised me for my dancing skills. And no, don’t you dare say anything. The way men view what I do on stage has nothing to do with my actual talent.”

Jordan blinked at her. An idea bloomed in his mind, growing, gaining momentum. “Where’d you learn to dance?”

“I took lessons as a child. All the other kids made fun of me for it, but I loved it. I’ve always enjoyed moving to the music. By the time I was a teenager, I was helping to teach the rest of the class. It’s something that’s always come naturally to me.”

Jordan caught her shoulders and pulled her to her tiptoes. He kissed her soundly before she could object. For the first time since meeting her he felt like he had the upper hand. He could help her while helping himself to get closer to her. He pulled Georgia into his arms and spun her around, lifting her off her feet.

Georgia laughed in surprise while clinging to his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you.” She started to say something more, but he stopped and asked, “You won’t forget about this weekend, right? The cookout? Honey has been planning it all month and the kids are looking forward to it. Sawyer has promised to make them his famous fruit salad with melon balls—kids love melon balls—and Casey intends to take them boating.”

She ducked her head and said, “We’ll be there.”

Tipping her chin once again, Jordan asked, “You don’t sound very happy about it. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, refusing to answer. But then, he didn’t really need her to. He knew she resisted their growing closeness and the need that got harder and harder to ignore. She was afraid if she relied on him, he might let her down. Jordan smiled, remembering that she wanted options.

He’d start working on that first thing in the morning.

THE KITCHEN was filled to overflowing with meddling relatives when Jordan walked in for breakfast. Even though Morgan and Misty now lived up on the hill, they often came down for breakfast. Honey insisted on it. And since Gabe and Elizabeth were still living downstairs in the renovated basement of the big house, they were always there in the mornings, too. The women generally helped each other out, cooking, watching babies, laughing and providing a nice feminine touch to what used to be a totally masculine gathering.

Casey, he noted, wallowed in all the attention. The women doted on him shamefully.

Jordan saw everyone look up when he closed the kitchen door. His own apartments were over the garage, converted years ago when he realized he was a little different than the others, that he wanted and needed more privacy than they did. “Morning.”

Morgan, with his daughter Amber perched on his lap, leaned back and grinned. “I hear you’re checking into property around town. You thinking of moving?”

“No!” Honey put down the spatula she’d been using to turn eggs and turned to Jordan with a horrified expression. “It’s bad enough that Gabe and Elizabeth are planning to move. I like having you all here!”

Misty picked up the spatula and took over for her sister. “He’s been looking at warehouses, not homes.”

“Oh.” Honey seemed so relieved that Sawyer walked up to her, put his arms around her from behind and began kissing her nape.

“You can’t keep them all underfoot forever, sweetie.”

She looked dreamy for a moment—a common occurrence when Sawyer kissed her or touched her—then scowled at him over her shoulder. “Don’t say that. You’ll have them thinking we want them to leave.”

“My brothers know they’re always welcome.”

“And their wives.”

Sawyer nodded. “I think I hear Shohn.”

He left the room, oblivious to Casey’s chuckles. “How the heck does he hear Shohn,” Casey asked, “when no one else does? What’d the baby do? Burp?”

Everyone laughed except Honey. She, being as attuned to the baby as her husband, said matter-of-factly, “No, he yawned.”

Morgan brought the conversation back around just as Jordan sprawled into his seat. “So why are you checking out warehouses?”

Jordan tried to stare him down before everyone started questioning him, but it didn’t work. Amber reached up and pulled on her daddy’s nose, and Jordan had to smile. He adored kids and Amber was a real cutie. Luckily, she looked just like her mother.

He wondered how they’d found out about his property inquiries so soon. Granted, he’d started checking into it yesterday morning, right after the idea had come to him the night before. But he’d barely called five places. Half the time he thought his family had radar.

Misty, long since recovered from her bout with the flu, jumped in, saying, “According to what Honey and Elizabeth told me about Georgia’s talent, I bet he’s thinking of putting together a dance studio. Buckhorn doesn’t have anything like that, you know. A little culture wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

If he’d been prepared, if he’d had any forewarning at all that Misty might guess so close to the truth, Jordan could have blustered his way out of it. But he didn’t. He simply stared, in awe of Misty’s ability.

She felt him looking at her and glanced back. “What? Am I right?”

Morgan laughed. “Damn, you’re good, sweetheart! And Jordan, I personally think it’s a helluva idea.”

“Helluva idea,” Amber said, and Morgan quickly tried to hush her, but not quick enough. Misty glared at him with one of her you’re-in-trouble looks.

“Amber, sweetie,” Misty said, “Daddy’s got a nasty mouth and says things he shouldn’t. You can’t always copy him or people will say you have a nasty mouth, too.”

Amber pursed her cute little rosebud mouth and nodded. “Daddy’s nasty.”

“That’s right.” Misty kissed her daughter, who kissed her nasty daddy, just to make him stop looking so guilty.

Sawyer walked back in with Shohn on his shoulder. The baby still looked sleepy and had a soft printed blanket clutched in his chubby fist.

Honey said immediately, “Jordan is going to buy Georgia a dance studio.”

Sawyer drew up short. “He’s going to what?”

Jordan leaned forward, put his head on the table, and covered it with his arms. Amber patted his ear.

“A dance studio?”

“Yes.” Honey took the baby and snuggled him close. “Georgia would be a wonderful dance instructor.”

“How do you know?” Jordan asked, his voice muffled because he hadn’t sat up yet.

A heavy pause filled the air. Everyone looked at Jordan. He sighed and propped his head up on his fist. “What makes you think she’d be a good instructor?”

Knowing his ploy, Honey lifted her chin and said, “Because I watched her dance two nights ago, as you very well know.”

Jordan couldn’t have been more amazed by her admission than if she’d thrown an egg at him. “You told him?”

She nodded. He glanced at Elizabeth who sat in Gabe’s lap. “Of course we told.”

Jordan stared at his brothers’ red faces. “And neither of you are angry?”

“Damn right I’m angry,” Sawyer admitted. “I told her she should have told me if she’d wanted to go and I would have taken her.”

“Damn right,” Amber said. When Sawyer groaned, she asked, “Unca Sawyer nasty, too?”

“Yeah,” Morgan answered. “Nastier than me.” He kissed Amber’s belly and made her laugh.

Gabe made a face. “I had fully intended to impress upon Elizabeth the error of her ways, but it didn’t work out quite as I had intended.”

Morgan covered Amber’s ears and said with remorse, “I know what you mean. You plan on giving a woman a good swat, but once you’ve got her pants off, you forget what you’re doing.”

Misty pinched Morgan for that bit of impertinence. Elizabeth just laughed, knowing it was all bluster. It was the truth not a one of them would ever lay a harsh hand on a female and their wives more than understood that.

Jordan laughed. God, he loved the lot of them. They were all nuts and overbearing and intrusive, and he had no idea what he’d do without them. The phone rang so he decided to excuse himself from the chaos.

He went into the family room and when he picked up the receiver and said, “Hello,” he heard a long pause before his mother asked, “What’s wrong?”

Jordan stared at the phone. “Mother?”

“Of course it’s your mother. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

Of course it’s your mother? Jordan held the receiver away from his ear to stare at it. His mother and Brett now lived in Florida. She’d called last week, but he’d been at Georgia’s and missed her.

Because he wasn’t sure how much she knew, Jordan hedged. “What makes you think anything’s wrong?” Though he’d just been entertaining softer thoughts about his family, he now considered knocking all their heads together. If one of his damn brothers had been tattling, upsetting their mother, he wouldn’t be pleased.

“I can hear it in your voice,” she explained. “You’ve always had the most betraying voice. Even when you were a baby, I could tell by your gurgles what you were thinking and feeling.”

Jordan dropped onto the edge of the couch and without giving himself time to plan out his reply, he said, “I think I’m in love.”

Another pause, then softly: “Will you tell me about her?”

Even as he considered his words, Jordan smiled. “She’s beautiful.”

“Of course.”

“But that’s not what got to me.” He frowned. “She has two kids. Lisa, six and Adam, four. They’re incredible.”

There was a smug note in his mother’s voice when she said, “Then obviously she’s incredible.”

“She is. And gutsy. She’s made a few mistakes, I guess. And…” Jordan hesitated. “In a lot of ways, she’s like you.”

Another pause. “How’s that?”

Jordan looked toward the doorway, saw no one was lurking, and said, “She’ll do anything necessary to see that her kids are taken care of.”

His mother laughed. “What in the world did I ever do to warrant that comment? You make it sound like I worked in the coal mines to feed you or something.”

Jordan considered all the things she had done, the sacrifices she’d made, how hard she’d always worked to make them happy. But the one thing that really stood out in his mind, the one thing he’d always hated, slipped out without his permission. “You married my father,” he said, “hoping to make a complete home for Sawyer and Morgan.”

“Jordan!” She sounded incredulous that he’d come to such a conclusion. “I married your father because I loved him!”

Jordan heard a muffled shout in the background and his mother said, “No Brett, it’s not Gabe. It’s Jordan.” And then: “Yes, I can see how you made that assumption.”

Jordan chuckled. He could just imagine what Brett, Gabe’s father, was thinking right now. “Tell Brett I said ‘hi.’”

“Later. Right now I have something that I want you to understand. Do you have your listening ears on, Jordan?”

“My listening ears?” She hadn’t used that term on him since before he’d become a teen.

“Don’t get smart, son. Just pay attention.”

He grinned even as he said, “Yes, ma’am.”

“I have never regretted marrying your father. How could I when I have you?”

“He was a damn drunk.”

“He was human. He made mistakes and in my mind, he’s paid dearly for them. He lost me, and he lost all of you. Surely there couldn’t have been a worse penalty.”

Jordan gripped the receiver hard. “He was irresponsible, selfish—”

“No, sweetheart, he was just an alcoholic.” She sighed, then continued. “We humans are prone to screwing up our lives on occasion. Most of the time we’re given the chance to make amends. Your father was a wonderful man when I met him. Things happened that he couldn’t deal with, and he…well, he wasn’t strong enough to cope. If you ever get to meet him, I hope you keep that in mind.”

Jordan didn’t want to meet him, ever. But to appease his mother, he said, “I’ll think on it.”

“Now tell me about this young lady you’re going to marry.”

He choked on his own indrawn breath. “I didn’t say anything about marrying her! I haven’t even known her that long. It’s just…”

“It’s just that you love her. So why wait?”

“Well, one good reason might be that she doesn’t want to marry me. In fact, she doesn’t even want to see me.”

“That’s ridiculous! Why wouldn’t she? There’s no finer man than you.”

Jordan got an evil grin when he said, “I’ll tell the others you said so.”

Laughing, his mother replied, “You’re all equally fine men. And I can tell them myself this evening.”

“There’s no need to call back. Everyone’s here for breakfast.”

“That’s not what I meant. Brett and I are flying in tonight. We should make it to the house by about five.”

Jordan froze. “You’re coming here? Tonight?”

“Now, Jordan, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t want to see me.”

Jordan quickly reassured her otherwise. But in his mind, he was thinking of the cookout, the fact that Georgia would be there with her kids. He’d hoped to tell her about the studio, but until he knew for certain that there was a building that’d work, he didn’t want to mention it.

His mother again told him that she loved him, and Jordan reciprocated. It’d be good to see her, and the babies would love it, not to mention how Casey would feel. But with his mother there, he didn’t know if he’d be able to get a single moment alone with Georgia.

And that’s what he wanted, because he was through with waiting. He’d planned to cement their relationship in the oldest way known to mankind.

Now that he’d seen firsthand how she responded to him, he knew it would be so damn good, so explosive, she’d never be able to deny him again.

RUTH WAS in the kitchen baking when Georgia walked in. She paused, watching her mother for a moment before announcing herself. Ruth looked pretty in a matching nightgown and robe decorated with small sprigs of yellow flowers. Her light brown hair, now slightly streaked with gray, was twisted at the back of her head in a loose knot. She was humming as she put a new sheet of cookies in the oven.

“Morning, Mom.”

Ruth turned with a smile and then went to Georgia to kiss her cheek. “You’re up early!”

Georgia grinned. “So are you. And baking already?” She made a beeline for the coffeepot, as usual. Now, whenever she drank a cup, she thought of Jordan—and remembered everything he’d made her feel.

“I wanted to bring something to the cookout today. I’m looking forward to it.”

Georgia’s heart swelled. The kids had talked about little else for the past few days and her mother’s eyes glowed with just the mention of the gathering. Georgia hadn’t realized how isolated, how withdrawn from society she’d kept them all. Between working so much, both at the bar and on the house, there’d been little time for playing. It seemed every day she found another way that she’d failed the ones she loved most.

“I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought about how lonely you might have been.”

Ruth shook her head. “Or how lonely you’ve been?”

She started to deny that, but Ruth took her coffee cup and set it aside, then clasped both of Georgia’s hands and squeezed them. “Georgia, it’s okay to admit it, you know.” Her mother met her gaze squarely and stated, “It’s also okay to want a man.”

“Mother!” Georgia felt a hot blush begin creeping up her neck.

“Oh, don’t give me that tone.” Ruth paid no heed to her daughter’s embarrassment. “I’m older, not dead. I know how it is. And Jordan is…well, he’s a potent male. Personally I think you’re downright foolish to keep putting him off.”

Georgia thought she might fall through the floor with her mother’s words. “He is potent, and that’s what scares me.” In a softer voice, she admitted, “It’d be so easy to love him.”

“So?” Ruth sounded totally unconcerned with her plight. “The kids and I love him, so you might as well, too.”

Georgia shook her head. “It isn’t that easy, Mom. I thought I loved Dennis—”

“You did love Dennis. And I think he honestly loved you. He was just young, Georgia. Young and foolish.” Ruth hesitated, then said, “Let’s sit down. I want to tell you something.”

Georgia agreed, but she also snatched back her coffee cup. No way could she handle all this without some caffeine. Luckily the kids were still sleeping soundly, giving them some quiet time alone.

As Georgia refilled her cup, she looked around her home. Everything was in order now. Oh, there were still plenty of repairs to be made, but nothing crucial. She could finally see the end of the tunnel. And beyond the material things, her children were more lively than they’d ever been. They’d flourished under all the added attention from Jordan and his family.

Morgan had dubbed them “official deputies” and given them both badges to wear. Casey took them swimming and boating and taught them both how to fish. Saywer had let them listen to their own heartbeats with his stethoscope. The women had praised Lisa for helping with the babies and had convinced Adam that he was the handsomest guy in Buckhorn, even more so than Gabe—which made her shy son start strutting.

And Jordan…Georgia sighed just thinking about him. It amazed her that one man could truly be so wonderful. He’d gone with them to find salamanders in the woods behind the house. One day he had even paid them to help him at his office, though Georgia knew they’d been in the way more than not. Still, he never seemed to mind. They started the day talking about him, and often wanted to call him in the evening to tell him good-night.

“Georgia?”

She hadn’t realized that she’d stopped in the middle of the floor and was just standing there. She looked at her mother, saw her caring and love and acceptance, and she burst into tears.

Ruth didn’t cry with her. As she got out of her seat to embrace her daughter, she gave a sympathetic chuckle. “Love is the damndest thing, isn’t it?”

Georgia tried to mop her eyes and hold on to her coffee at the same time. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You’re going to tell him.” Ruth held her away so she could see her face, and nodded when Georgia shook her head. “Sweetheart, don’t make the same mistakes I made. Don’t waste your time being afraid. Sometimes you just have to take a few chances, and I think Jordan’s worth the risk, don’t you?”

With a shuddering breath, Georgia reached for a napkin off the counter and blew her nose. She whispered, “He’s never said anything about loving me.”

“So? Your father dutifully told me every night that he loved me. But it would have meant so much more if he’d shown me instead. If he’d cared when I was tired or sick. If he’d held me when I was upset.”

Georgia stared at her mother. If he’d given her foot rubs and held her when she was afraid and loved her children…. Her father had never really loved her, not the way she loved Adam and Lisa.

As if she’d read her thoughts, Ruth nodded. “Jordan has shown you that he cares in more ways than I can count.”

“Oh, God.” Her mother was right. From the moment she’d met Jordan, she’d known he was different. True, he was pushy and arrogant and determined—but according to his family, he only behaved that way when he really cared about something. Or someone. She didn’t want to rely on him, but…maybe it would be okay. Maybe depending on him to share with her, to give and let her give, too, wouldn’t be so bad. If she could only balance her independence against what he made her feel….

But she knew she’d always hate herself if she didn’t at least give him a chance. “I’ll tell him today.”

Ruth laughed out loud. “That’s wonderful!” She hugged Georgia again before gently pushing her into a seat at the table. “Now, how about a cookie to celebrate?”

From the doorway, Adam and Lisa said, “I want one, too!” and as Georgia opened her arms to her children, still sleepy warm from their beds, she thought that she had to be the luckiest woman alive. Perhaps after today, she’d also be the most fulfilled.

JORDAN HEARD her car pull up and walked around to the front of the house. People had been arriving all afternoon, and he’d been anxiously waiting for her. He’d found a studio, and he could barely wait to discover her reaction to that.

The moment they saw him, Adam and Lisa jumped out and came running, followed by Ruth. Jordan was barely able to swallow down his emotion as he embraced both children. They chatted ninety miles a minute, telling him about all the cookies their grandma had made and about the pictures they’d colored for him to decorate his office, and about a frog they’d found in the backyard.

“Jus’ like you tol’ us to, we played with it and then turned it loose.”

Jordan stroked Adam’s downy hair, warmed by the sun. “I’m sure the frog appreciates it. They’re not meant to be pets.”

Lisa nodded. “We remembered.” Then she leaned forward to whisper, “‘Sides, Grandma hates frogs.”

Jordan was still chuckling when Ruth and Georgia reached his side. Ruth gave him a hug, though Georgia looked shyly away, prompting him to curious speculation. Following the lead her mother and children had set, Jordan pulled Georgia close for a hug. To his surprise, she briefly nuzzled her nose into his throat and sighed.

Just that easily, he was aroused. Of course, he stayed semiaroused around her anyway.

Trying to discern her mood, Jordan studied her and only vaguely heard Ruth announce that she and the kids were taking the cookies to Honey. Georgia waited until she’d gone, then licked her lips in a show of nervousness.

Jordan touched her hair, teased by the warm afternoon breeze. He loved how the golden-brown curls framed her face and how the sunlight glinted in them. “Georgia?” His voice was husky, affected by more than his sexual need of her. He wanted her, all of her. Forever. “Is something wrong?”

He took her arm and started her toward the back of the house where everyone was gathered. He could feel the tension emanating from her and sought to make her more at ease by rubbing her back.

Her eyes closed and she moaned softly, then suddenly blurted, “I have something I want to tell you.”

Jordan tensed. He could tell by her expression that she wasn’t completely comfortable with what she had to say. If she thought to try pulling away from him, after they were finally getting so close, she could damn well think again. He took her hand in his and laced their fingers together. Jordan could hear the others chatting in the backyard as they rounded the house, though Georgia seemed oblivious.

“I’ve been going over everything you said.” She peeked a look at him, then frowned in concentration. “That last night at the bar, I mean.”

Jordan nodded. “I want to talk about that, too.” He now had options for her, viable options. He hoped she’d be pleased.

She stared at him in sudden horror. “You’ve changed your mind? You don’t want me anymore?”

“What?” Jordan jerked around to stare at her. “No,” he said, his frown deepening. “Hell, no. Where’d you get that crazy idea?”

“I thought—” She shook her head and started walking again. “I thought maybe, because I pushed so hard, you’d decided to leave me alone now.”

“Georgia.” How could she possibly think such a thing? Leave her alone? He couldn’t even stop thinking about her, so how would he keep away?

They had just stepped into the backyard when she drew a deep breath and said, “That’s good, because…I want you, too.” She looked up at him, her eyes so pale in the sunlight. “Jordan, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted any man as much as I want you. What…what you did to me the other night? That was wonderful and I loved it. I haven’t been able to think of much else. But I want more than that.” She stared him right in the eyes and whispered, “I want to feel you inside me and I want to watch your face when you come, and I want to hear your voice and hold you. I want that so badly I can’t stand it anymore.”

Jordan sucked in a huge breath of air, but it didn’t help. Just that quickly he had an erection that threatened the seams of his jeans. Every muscle in his body shook.

And then the sound of conversation intruded and he looked around, seeing himself surrounded by family and neighbors. Luckily no one was paying them any attention.

He groaned aloud. Georgia finally admitted to wanting him, and there wasn’t an ounce of privacy to be found. “Sweetheart, you really know how to make a man crazy.”

She stared up at him, her eyes full of questions. And invitation. “It’s fair. You’ve certainly made me nuts.” She reached up and touched his face. “Can I ask you something?”

Jordan put his arm around her and led her to the side of the yard, as far away from the others as he dared to go without drawing a lot of attention. “You can ask me anything, Georgia. Don’t ever forget that.”

Her smile was so sweet and gentle. He loved her mouth. Damn, how he loved her mouth.

“If,” she said, looking uncertain once again, “I didn’t want to be involved with you. If I made it clear that I had no feelings for you at all—”

“Then I’d respect your wishes, even if it killed me.”

She went on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss. “I already knew that. You’re not a man to ever force a woman in any way.”

Jordan laughed at her assumptions. “I’d do my damndest first to convince you.”

“You already have. Done your damndest and convinced me. But you’re such a seducer with that sexy voice—” she touched his mouth with one fingertip “—it wasn’t that hard.”

The way she touched him, how she looked at him, took him to the edge. In a rasp, he said, “Speak for yourself.”

She understood his meaning and glanced down at his fly. “Oh.” Warmth colored her cheekbones, making him nuts, but when he went to kiss her, she said, “Jordan, it was something else I was going to ask.”

“Tell me.”

“If we had no personal relationship, would you still want to see my kids? Or would you suddenly disappear from their lives?”

Jordan didn’t give a damn if everyone in Buckhorn saw him. He cupped her face in his hands and took her mouth in a kiss meant to offer reassurance and so much more. When he lifted away, she clung to him, as unconcerned with their audience as he was. “I love your kids, sweetheart. I’d never do that to them.”

Tears glistened on her lashes. “That’s what I thought.”

Jordan knew what she was getting at. Their own father had walked away, just as his had. For whatever reason, her ex had been able to give up his own two offspring, never knowing if they were all right, if they needed him or not.

But Jordan was different. He’d never before realized exactly how different until that moment. “I used to worry about my father,” he said. “Not about his well-being, but whether or not people would associate me with him. Like your ex-husband, he split after the divorce and no one has seen him since. Not a single phone call, not even a card. If I died, I’m not sure he’d know, or even care.”

Jordan shrugged and admitted, “There’ve been times when I hated him because I felt so ashamed. Not because he wasn’t here, but because my brothers had respectable, honorable, loving fathers and yet my father was a huge mistake.”

His throat felt raw as he told her things he’d never said to another living soul. “I wanted to hold myself to a higher standard, to prove to myself and to everyone else that I was better than that, better than him.”

Georgia put her arms around him and rested the side of her face on his chest. He cupped the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her soft curls.

He smiled when she said, “You’re the best person I’ve ever met.” But then she added, “You make me feel so inferior.”

Jordan abruptly pushed her back so he could scowl into her face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She lifted her shoulders in a slow shrug. “I know it probably bothers you to want me. I got pregnant at sixteen, I’ve already been divorced and I dance in a bar.” Her smile was sad and fleeting. “I’m hardly anybody’s idea of a ‘higher standard.’”

Rage washed over him, making him break out in a sweat. His vision narrowed to her face, a face he loved. He gave her a quick, sharp shake. “Don’t you ever say anything like that again!”

“Jordan!” She glanced around, reminding him that they weren’t alone. “Someone will hear you.”

It took all his concentration to lower his voice, to temper his fury. Tears filled her eyes again, slicing into him like the sharpest blade. It was her vulnerability that gained him some control. He pulled her into his chest and held her tight. “I never thought,” he whispered against her forehead, “that I’d meet someone as beautiful as you. Do you know what I see when I look at you, Georgia?”

She shook her head.

“I see a woman who will do anything she has to in order to take care of the people who depend on her. A woman with enough strength and courage and honor to beat the odds, and still be so incredibly sweet that it breaks my heart just to look at her.”

Georgia’s self-conscious laugh teased along his senses. He felt her wipe her eyes on his shirt and wished he was alone with her. She filled him with lust, broke his heart with her gentleness and humbled him with her strength.

“You make me sound like a conquering Amazon,” she whispered.

He put his mouth close to her ear. “From the moment I saw you,” he breathed, relishing her scent and her softness, “I was so hot to have you I nearly ground my teeth into powder. That’s never happened to me before. I stay so aroused I ache, but I only want you.”

Her hands fisted in his shirt. “Me, too. I want you so much, it scares me.”

He didn’t want her to fear him, but he’d explain that to her later. “I think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. And the more I got to know you, the worse it became, because your sexiness is earthy. It isn’t just about your gorgeous body, or the way you move or how you look at me. It’s you. Everything about you, Georgia. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “All right.”

Jordan suddenly felt someone behind him. He jerked around and found Morgan and Gabe both breathing down his neck.

“Hey,” Morgan said, as if he hadn’t just intruded. “You two are embarrassing everyone, me included. Why don’t you find a room somewhere?”

Gabe shoved Morgan. “You’re so crude.” Then to Georgia: “Put him out of his misery, sweetheart. Jordan isn’t used to this kind of excitement. Sawyer says it isn’t good for his heart.”

Georgia covered her face and laughed. Jordan thought about tossing his brothers into the lake. But then Morgan whispered, “You know, the gazebo is real private. Everyone is getting ready to eat and I can keep the kids occupied if you two want to go…talk things over.”

Jordan looped his arm around Georgia and pulled her to his side. He peered around the yard. Zenny and Walt and Newton waved to them. Georgia groaned, but waved back. Howard and Jesse were arguing—as usual.

Morgan’s enormous dog, Godzilla, had the kids well occupied. Lisa, Adam and Amber were all petting him and Godzilla rested on his back in doggy bliss, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. Godzilla looked more like the missing link than a pet, but he was about the sweetest creature Jordan had ever seen. Even Honey’s calico cat liked the dog. She sat next to Lisa, getting her own pet every now and then and rubbing her head against Godzilla’s hip.

“Will you look at my mother?” Georgia said in awe.

Jordan followed the direction of Georgia’s gaze and found Ruth in animated conversation with Misty’s and Honey’s bachelor father. Damned if there wasn’t a bright blush on her face, too. Well, well, Jordan thought. He wasn’t crazy about the man, despite how he’d softened since his daughters had joined the family, but whatever he said to Ruth must have been complimentary because she hadn’t stopped smiling once.

He heard a laugh and noticed Casey was sitting beneath a shade tree, surrounded by female admirers. Gabe nodded toward Casey, chuckling. “They’ve been after him all day. He can’t get himself a cola without them all trailing behind.”

Even as Gabe spoke, Emma walked up to group. She wore another halter top that showed more than it concealed and shorts that should have been illegal. She was barefoot, carrying her sandals, and Casey made an obvious point of not looking at her, at completely ignoring her existence—until two of the girls said something obviously snide. Emma, head bowed, started to walk away and within two heartbeats Casey was at her side. They appeared to disagree on something for just a moment, then Casey shook his head, slung his arm around her shoulders, and practically dragged her off.

A lot of feminine complaints ensued as Casey and Emma disappeared around the side of the house.

Georgia sighed. “I really adore your nephew.”

Morgan laughed. “We’re rather fond of him, too.” Under his breath he added, “But what the hell is he up to?”

“You two should get going,” Gabe said. “But I’d take the long route if I was you. Casey’s not the only one with disgruntled females hunting for him.”

Georgia frowned over that, looking around the yard with an evil glint in her eyes. Jordan appreciated her mild show of jealousy; she’d admitted to wanting him and now she was acting possessive. All he needed was a quiet spot to show her how much he cared.

Morgan suddenly laughed. “Too late. You should have fled when you had the chance.”

“What are you talking about?” Jordan demanded, not in the least amused by the possibility of yet another delay.

“She’s here.” Morgan tipped his head toward the back-door of the house. “And you know there’s no way in hell she’ll let you slink away.”

Georgia’s frown turned ferocious. “She who?”

Gabe, too, looked at the house, then started to laugh. “Our mother. Prepare yourself, Georgia, she’s making a beeline this way.”

All three brothers smiled and started forward; Jordan pulled Georgia along with him. They met Sawyer on the path and before Megan Kasper could descend off the back stoop, she was enveloped in masculine hugs that kept her completely off her feet for a good five minutes.

“YOUR CHILDREN are wonderful.”

Georgia smiled at Megan as she stroked Lisa’s hair. “Thank you.”

Lisa sent Megan a big grin, worshiping her. Of course, she and Adam had both been amazed by this tiny woman who ruled her gigantic sons with an iron fist. The men jumped at her slightest whisper, and did so with grins on their faces.

Georgia had heard so many stories about Megan’s stubbornness, her strong will, she’d certainly expected some-one…bigger. But while Megan was small in stature, she had an enormous smile and an innate gentleness and she loved to laugh.

It tickled Georgia to see how her sons fawned over her. When Megan had first arrived several hours ago, she’d been passed from one strong set of arms to another. How such a small woman could mother such colossal men was beyond her. When one of the neighbors had commented on it with a smile, another had said that Megan always gravitated to the “big guys.” Seeing her husband, Georgia understood.

Brett Kasper had stood there looking pleased and smug and adoring over everything Megan did. He resembled his son Gabe quite a bit, in that they were both drop-dead gorgeous, they both liked to pet on their wives, and they were both strongly built. Once the brothers had finished with Megan, Brett had been treated to a round of bear hugs himself, with no preferences shown. He was, obviously, very well loved.

“I’m going to skin Casey when he gets here.”

Georgia laughed at that, knowing Megan was anxious to see him again. Georgia leaned forward and said, “He went off with a girl.”

“I never doubted it for a moment.” Megan frowned at Jordan, sitting beside her in a lawn chair, and said, “He’s far too much like his uncles not to be with a female.”

Lisa thought that was funny and giggled, but when she saw Adam go by chasing the dog, she ran after them. Georgia watched her go, feeling so incredibly at peace.

Jordan shrugged. “He’s a little like Gabe, with the girls after him. And a little like Sawyer, being so compassionate. I’m just not sure what’s motivating him today.” As he spoke, he lifted one of Georgia’s feet, pulled off her sandal, and started another foot rub. She gawked at him, but Megan only smiled and Jordan didn’t even seem aware of what he was doing. “I think Emma has him on the run.”

Both Megan and Jordan ignored Georgia’s struggle to retrieve her foot. “Jordan…”

He smiled at her, then said to his mother, “Georgia’s a dancer, you know. In high heels.”

“Ah.” Megan did her best to hide her amusement as Jordan caught her other foot also. “I suppose that explains it.”

Georgia thought she might die of embarrassment, but instead she ended up groaning. Everyone talked about Jordan’s magical voice; why hadn’t anyone warned her about his magical hands?

Megan stood. “I see Ruth and Misty calling the kids in. Sounds like they’re going to make popcorn. I think I’ll help.”

Sure enough, Amber led the way with Lisa and Adam following, trailed by the dog and cat. Misty held Shohn in her arms while Ruth kept the door open for the parade. Georgia was amazed at how the kids were so accepted by everyone. They didn’t deliberately take turns that she’d noticed, but somehow it worked out that way. Earlier she and Jordan had taken them all on an expedition to the lake where they’d lifted stones along the shore and found not only crawdads, but minnows and rock bass. Amber, strangely enough, had been the most daring at grabbing for the creepy-crawly creatures. But then Jordan explained that she’d been in or near the water since her birth, thanks to Gabe. Adam and Lisa professed to love it, too, so Jordan had promised to get Gabe to take them to the dam very soon.

They were all so giving and so accepting. Her children had found a family here. And that made her full to bursting with happiness.

Since Georgia couldn’t stand, given that Jordan had both her feet held firmly in his lap, Megan bent down to her instead. After a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, she said, “I’ll be in town for awhile this trip. Do you think we could get together for lunch or something? I’d love to visit more.”

Georgia glanced at Jordan, saw his small smile, and agreed. “I’d enjoy that. Thank you.”

Next Megan clasped Jordan’s face between her hands and said, “I love seeing you so happy.”

Jordan chuckled. “I’m rather fond of the situation myself.”

She kissed him soundly and then took herself off. She’d barely gone ten feet when a rubber-tipped dart hit her in the backside. Megan jumped, whipped around, saw Gabe hiding behind a tree and started after him. Gabe ran for his life as Morgan and Sawyer, standing together at the back door, doubled over in laughter.

Georgia couldn’t help but laugh, too. Then she looked up and locked gazes with Jordan. He looked…serious.

“Jordan?”

His fingers continued to work over her feet, only now his touch felt more sexual, more exciting. She let out a small, breathy moan, imagining those hands in other places.

“Do you know,” he whispered, his eyes so hot she felt scorched, “that I’m about to die from unsated lust? I want you so bad right now I’m close to—”

“Ho!” Sawyer slapped him on the back, nearly knocking Jordan out of his lawn chair. “Hold that thought until I’m a safe distance away.”

Jordan’s growl was feral. “Damn it, will you guys stop sneaking up on me!”

Sawyer bit back a laugh. “Mom has decided to do a sleepover, just like she used to when we were young.” In a stage whisper he added, “It’s possible she’s hoping to give you a helping hand.”

Then to Georgia, “Honey’s already dragging the family-room furniture around, making space for the tent, but Mom said she wants your permission to invite Adam and Lisa to spend the night, too.”

Jordan closed his eyes and ignored Sawyer.

Georgia, a bit shaken by the interruption and her own repressed desire, said dumbly, “A tent?”

“Yeah. Kids love making tents out of blankets and stuff. They’ll sleep on the floor and Mom and Brett will sleep on the couch.” He shrugged. “It’s her way of giving everyone a night off. Except me because Honey is still breast-feeding, but we’re claiming tomorrow afternoon.” He grinned shamelessly with that admission.

Jordan came to his feet in a rush, cupped the back of Georgia’s head, and gave her a hard kiss. “Say yes.”

She looked into his eyes, saw all the promise there, and nodded. “Yes.”

Jordan’s eyes flared with satisfaction. “Let’s see if I can keep you in such an agreeable mood,” he murmured.

Ten minutes later Georgia found herself being hustled across the yard to Jordan’s apartments over the garage. Her kids had kissed her goodbye and good-night without a qualm. They knew she’d be close if she was needed. Ruth had been invited to ‘camp out’ with them and had accepted, especially when Mr. Malone had done the same.

Jordan paused beside the steps leading to his front door.

“What is it?” Georgia asked, a little breathless from the idea of what they were about to do.

“I thought I heard something.” Jordan frowned, looked around the yard, then shook his head. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” He put his arm around her shoulders and together they practically ran up the steps. No sooner did Jordan have the door closed than Georgia found herself in his arms.

“God, I need you,” he whispered and his rough velvet voice stroked over her as surely as his hands were doing. “Let me love you all night.”

She would have said yes, but his mouth covered hers and his tongue thrust inside, hot and wet and hungry and all she could do was moan. Jordan must have understood; one of his large hands settled on her breast, softly kneading, and the other curved around the front of her thigh. He pressed into her, all hard, tensed muscles and trembling need. She felt his erection against her belly and rubbed herself against him.

In that instant, he lost it.

CASEY CHUCKLED as he saw the light go out in the rooms overhead. Jordan was a goner—and Casey had never seen him happier.

He was behind the garage in the darkest shadows, Emma clinging to his side. Very gently, he eased her away. “We should join the others.”

“No.” Her hand, so small and soft, stroked down his bare chest, but Casey caught it before she reached the fly to his jeans.

It took more control than he knew he had to turn her away. “Emma,” he chided, and hopefully he was the only one who heard the shaking of his voice. He’d started out befriending her, but Emma wanted more. She was so blatant about it, so brazen, it was all he could do not to give in. But more than anything Emma needed a friend, not another conquest. And beyond that, Casey didn’t share.

“Are you a virgin?” she taunted, and Casey laughed outright at her ploy.

“That,” he said, flicking a finger over her soft cheek, “is none of your business.”

She shook her head in wonder. “You’re the only guy I know who wouldn’t have denied it right away!”

“I’m not denying or confirming.”

“I know, but most guys’d lie if they had to, rather than let a girl think—”

“What?” Casey cupped her face and despite his resolve, he kissed her. “I don’t care what anyone thinks, Emma. You should know that by now. Besides, what I’ve done or with who isn’t the point.”

“No,” she agreed, her tone sad. “It’s what I’ve done, isn’t it?”

He repeated his own thoughts out loud. “I don’t share.”

“What if I promised not to—”

“Shhh. Summer break is almost over and I’ll be leaving for school. I won’t be around, so there’s no point in us even discussing this.”

Big tears welled in her eyes, reflecting the moonlight, making his guts cramp. “I’m leaving too, Casey.”

“And where do you think to go?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He could see her soft mouth trembling, could smell her sweet scent carried on the cool evening breeze. Boldly, she took his hand and pressed it to her breast. She was so damn soft.

With a muttered curse, Casey pulled her closer and kissed her again. It didn’t matter, he promised himself, filling his hand with her firm breast, finding her nipple and stroking with his thumb. He was damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t. And sometimes Emma was just too much temptation.

But it wouldn’t change anything. He told her so in a muted whisper, and her only reply was a groan.

“I WANTED to go slow,” Jordan ground out as he jerked Georgia’s T-shirt high, pushed her bra aside and bared one breast. He had very large hands, but even for him she was lush and full. “I wanted to make this last.”

“Don’t you dare go slow,” she gasped, and gripped his head as he closed his mouth over one taut straining nipple. “Jordan.”

He pulsed with incredible need, his heartbeat wild and uncontrolled. She tasted even better than he remembered, ripe and hot. With a low groan, she parted her thighs and she pushed against him, using her body to stroke his erection, her movements sinuous and graceful, making him think of all the fantasies he’d had when watching her dance.

He sucked her nipple deep, drawing on her while with his other hand he teased the crease of her behind. “Do you know what I want?” he growled, and switched to her other breast. The nipple he’d just abandoned was wet and so tight he ached just seeing it. He pinned her against the wall, knowing if he didn’t slow her down he’d be gone in under three seconds.

Georgia gave a breathy, barely-there laugh. “It’s obvious what you want.” Her small hand pressed between them and curled around his hard-on. “This is a dead giveaway.”

Jordan squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on holding back his orgasm. “Don’t do that.” He stepped away, putting an arm’s length of distance between them, staring at her through a haze of lust. “I’m not sure how you manage it, but you set me off and I don’t want to end this too quick. Not for me and not for you.”

Georgia looked at him while using the wall for support. Her chest, bared from his petting, rose and fell with deep breaths and quick pants. Her legs were still parted, her hands flat on the wall beside her hips. She looked enticing and tempting and Jordan wanted to drag her down to the carpet and bury himself inside her until they both screamed with the pleasure of it.

Slowly she gathered her wits and a small, seductive smile curled that sexier-than-sin mouth. Her eyes were dark and inviting. “Tell me what you want, Jordan.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I want you to ride me. Hard. I want to lie on my back and watch you while you take your pleasure. I want to see all those sensual movements you make when you dance, only I want them for me and me alone.” Her lips parted, her breath came faster. He added in a whisper, “And I want it all while I’m deep inside you.”

She came away from the wall in a rush, grabbing him and kissing him—his mouth, his throat, his chest. Jordan palmed her backside, lifted her and started for his bedroom. When her legs wound around him he had to stop for just a moment and kiss her deeply, but he could feel his passions on the boiling point, ready to erupt.

He tripped over a pair of slacks on his bedroom floor, stumbled to the bed and dropped there with Georgia still in his arms. “Don’t move,” he rasped.

She ignored him, grabbing his shirt and trying to yank it off him. He did that for her, then wrestled her own shirt over her head, leaving it and her bra twisted around her arms to try to hinder her movements just a bit.

“You’re pushing me, sweetheart and I can’t take it.”

“Damn it, Jordan…” She struggled with the shirt and bra and by the time she had her arms free he’d already yanked her shorts and panties off.

Sitting back on his heels between her wide-spread legs, he whispered, “I could come just looking at you.”

She moaned.

“Don’t move now. I mean it.” And before she could ignore that edict, he caught her hips in his hands, lifted her, and stroked with his tongue. She was already wet and hot and he grew voracious in his need to take as much of her as he could. “You taste so sweet.”

Like a wild woman, she writhed and squirmed and cried out. Jordan loved it all, just as he loved her. His fingers bit deeply into her cheeks and he used his thumbs to open her further, stroking with his tongue and teasing with his teeth and breathing in her heady, musky scent.

His erection throbbed and strained against his fly, but he wanted her pleasure first because he wasn’t at all certain how long he’d last once he got inside her. He’d meant to seduce her, but he forgot everything he knew about women and what they enjoyed. He acted solely on instinct, but it must have been enough. After several minutes of reacting to her moans and her small movements and her breathless encouragement, Jordan felt her climax start.

Her hips jerked, her thighs trembled and she groaned, long and low and real, pressing herself against his mouth to take everything he could give her. He held her closer, used his tongue to stroke her deeper, faster, and she came with all the energy she gave to her dance.

When she quieted, her harsh breathing the only sound in the room, Jordan rested his face against her thigh. Her completion, as if it had been his own, had helped to calm him. Idly, he traced his fingers over her slick flesh, her soft brown curls, making her twitch and moan.

He grinned. “This,” he whispered, softly stroking her swollen folds before slowly, carefully pushing one finger deep, “was worth the wait.”

She moved to his touch, lazy, sated movements. He loved seeing her spread out naked on his bed. When he pulled his fingers away, she heaved a long, shuddering sigh, and he decided he’d better not stall any longer or she was liable to fall asleep on him. And he knew firsthand how difficult it was to get her awake again.

Jordan stood beside the bed and stripped off his jeans. Georgia watched him through heavy, slumberous eyes—until he was naked. Then her cheekbones colored with renewed heat and her lips parted.

She took him completely off guard when she whispered, “I love you, Jordan.”

An invisible fist squeezed his heart. Every bit of calm he’d just achieved shot out the ceiling.

He barely had the sense or patience to find a condom and put it on, especially when the second he sat on the mattress she pushed him to his back. Jordan dropped flat, more than willing to give her control. Without hesitation she straddled his hips. For a brief moment she cradled his testicles, testing his long-lost control, her small soft hand making him crazed. Holding back became torture, and he told her so.

She clasped his penis in her hand and thankfully guided him into her body.

Jordan watched as she slowly slid down to envelop him, and he groaned deeply. With only that initial stroke he felt his body drawing tight in prerelease. “Georgia.”

She seated herself completely. He held her hips and pressed her down farther; he was so deep inside her, her inner muscles gripped him and she caught her breath on a gasp. When Jordan started to lift her away, unwilling to hurt her, she shook her head and braced her hands on his chest. Her gaze was cloudy with a mix of discomfort and incredible pleasure. “I want all of you.”

Jordan locked his jaw and concentrated on not coming. Georgia didn’t make it easy on him. At first, she held perfectly still and Jordan, teeth clenched and thighs tensed, did all he could to keep from rushing her.

Her thumbs found his nipples beneath his chest hair. “You are, without a doubt,” she murmured, “the most gorgeous, sexy man I’ve ever seen.”

His heels pressed into the mattress and his hands fisted in the sheets.

Her small palms, cool against his burning flesh, coasted over his shoulders, down his biceps then to his abdomen. “You’re all hard muscles and lean strength and I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you in the audience.”

Jordan felt himself jerking, knew the end was near for him. “Move, damn it. Move.”

With a feminine laugh of sheer power, she did as he asked, lifting with torturous slowness, then dropping hard. It took a mere three strokes, three times of watching her beautiful body slide up and then down again on his rigid shaft for Jordan to go mindless.

He cupped her breasts, arched his back, and exploded like a savage. To his immense surprise and pleasure, just as he began to regain sanity he heard Georgia sob and opened his eyes to watch her take her own pleasure. He was still hard, still buried deep inside her. She rocked her hips, her breasts bouncing, until she threw her head back and groaned out her second orgasm.

When she collapsed on his chest, Jordan put his arms around her and held her tight. He loved her so much it hurt, but when he decided to tell her, he heard her breathing even into the deep rhythm of sleep.

Pushing her hair from her face he studied her features. Her temples were damp from her exertions, her lips swollen and rosy, her cheeks still flushed. He kissed her forehead and the bridge of her nose. “I love you,” he whispered, and though she didn’t reply she did snuggle closer.

Smiling, Jordan eased her to his side so he could remove the used condom and find the blankets. It took him scant minutes and then he was back, pulling her onto his chest again, determined to keep her as close as possible. Forever.

Her heartbeat echoed in his chest, and with his mind at peace, Jordan dozed off.

GEORGIA WOKE the next morning to an empty bed. She automatically reached for Jordan, but he was gone. Then she heard him singing in his low, sexy voice, and with a smile, she climbed out of bed and wrapped the sheet around her.

His apartment was fabulous. Located over the three-car garage for the main house, it was open and spacious. The bedroom and private bath were the only doorways. The kitchen, breakfast nook and wide living room all flowed into each other. Since the bedroom door was open she could see Jordan at the kitchen sink, measuring out coffee. His broad naked back made her body feel liquid and warm. He wore only a pair of faded jeans riding low on his narrow hips, and even his bare feet looked sexy. Of course he was making coffee, and she smiled.

She’d told him she loved him.

Georgia remembered her declaration with a touch of embarrassment, but decided it didn’t matter. So what that he hadn’t responded in kind? She knew he cared for her, and he and his family were so wonderful….

The phone rang and as Jordan turned to answer it he caught sight of her. Immediately, he forgot about the phone and started toward her with a male determination that had her blushing. “Morning,” he murmured in a suggestive way.

Oh, that sexy just-up voice! Her heart picked up speed and a wave of warmth shook her. “Good morning.”

His smile was so gentle. Combined with a mostly naked superior male body, Jordan Sommerville was very potent! Georgia cleared her throat. “Aren’t you going to get the phone?”

“The answering machine will pick up.”

No sooner did he say it than it happened. Georgia missed the beginning of the message because Jordan kissed her while slowly unwinding the sheet from her body. He held it out to her sides and looked at her in the bright morning sunlight cascading through the kitchen windows.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She thought to tease him about needing glasses, since she knew her hair was tangled and her makeup smudged, but then the person on the phone said, “So as of a few hours ago, the bar is officially shut down. Who knows how long it’ll last, but I knew you’d be happy to hear it. Serving minors is a serious offense, and about the quickest way around to lose your licence. I think we can probably keep him shut down. Anyway, give me a call when you can and I’ll fill you in on the rest of the details.”

They were both frozen, Jordan in what appeared to be satisfaction, Georgia with dawning horror.

She was unemployed.

She yanked the sheet away from Jordan and held it to her chin to cover her nudity. She felt lost and vulnerable and scared. What would she do now? Good God, she couldn’t make the bills without that job! In a daze, Georgia swallowed hard and turned away from Jordan.

He caught her shoulder, and his voice sounded a bit harsh. “Where are you going?”

Blankly, her mind in a muddle, she stared at him. “I have to go find a job. I have to…I don’t know. I have to do something.” Then, before she could stop herself, she whispered, “Jordan, what am I going to do?”

His expression softened, and she wondered if what she saw in his eyes was pity. Details whipped through her mind with the speed of light. Scheduled dental checkups for the kids. The premium on her mother’s health insurance. The gas and electric, the mortgage…. She hadn’t had a chance to save up much money yet. She’d been too busy making repairs. And now…

The sheet fell to the floor, forgotten as she covered her face with her hands, knowing she’d failed yet again. “I have to find a job.” She said it once more, hoping to make herself understand. But she’d already looked everywhere before accepting the work at the bar. Nowhere else had paid enough. For a high school dropout who could only work certain hours because of being a mother, she wasn’t exactly prime employment material.

Jordan’s hands curved around her shoulders, caressing, comforting. “It’s too early to do anything right now. I’ll call the sheriff back in a bit and get all the details, okay?”

The sheriff? Not his brother, so it must have been the one who’d wanted them arrested. She’d known he was watching the bar, that he was fed up with the nightly problems that seemed to erupt….

Jordan interrupted her thoughts. “I have a few solutions, sweetheart. Will you listen to me?”

Georgia realized she’d put her worries onto him; she’d come to depend on him whether she wanted to admit it or not. How had she let that happen?

He’d once offered to let her work for him, but that would be no more than charity and she didn’t think she could stand it. She shook her head as she tried to pull away.

“You will listen,” Jordan stated, and urged her toward his sofa.

“What is there to say? I won’t work for you—”

“You don’t have to.” Jordan gently pushed her into the seat, then plucked up the sheet and handed it to her. Georgia wrapped it around herself; she had all but forgotten she was nude.

“Now just listen.” He caught both her hands and held tight. “You said you wanted options, well here’re two.” He drew a deep breath. “You can marry me.” He waited, watching her closely, and when she only stared at him in shock, his expression hardened. “Or you can teach dance at your own studio.”

That was every bit as confusing as his proposal. Only…he hadn’t really proposed. Not once had he ever said he loved her, only that he wanted her. And last night he’d admitted to respecting her, admiring her…

“Georgia, are you listening to me?”

She blinked. “Yes, but…I don’t have a studio.”

Jordan seemed to be getting angrier by the moment. “I found you one. It’s in the center of town. It used to be a novelty shop, but the owner is retiring and the place is wide and airy and with a little renovation it’d be perfect.”

She sat there, naked but for a sheet, confusion weighing her down. “A novelty shop?”

Jordan grabbed her chin and kissed her hard. He actually trembled he was so furious. “I already agreed to buy the building so you might as well agree.” When she still hesitated, he barked, “You said you enjoy teaching dance, and Misty and Honey assure me there’ll be—”

Incredulous, Georgia shot off the sofa to stare down at him. “You bought me a building?”

He didn’t stand, but instead sprawled back in his seat and put his arms along the sofa back. Every single muscle in his arms and chest and shoulders was defined. “Yes.”

“Ohmigod.” She paced away, but had taken no more than ten steps when she whirled back around to face him. “How can you buy me a building? Nobody buys someone else a building!”

His eyes narrowed. “I also asked you to marry me.”

“No.” Wildly, she shook her head. “You told me I could marry you. It’s not at all the same thing.”

“You want all the fanfare? You want me to go down on one knee?”

“No!” Her head had started to pound and she felt queasy. It would be so easy to marry him, to let him fix everything, but she’d sworn she wouldn’t do that again. She felt wetness on her cheeks and realized she was crying. Her heart ached and she said on a near wail, “I can’t marry you, Jordan. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

His eyes closed briefly; he rubbed a hand over his face. “You said you loved me.”

“I do, but…you have everything. You have a wonderful supportive family and a great job, an education and respectability, a home and money and—”

He came to his feet so quickly, she yelped and nearly tripped over the trailing sheet. Jordan gripped her arms.

“So that’s what you love about me?” he roared, scaring her half silly. “What I can give you?”

She’d never seen Jordan like this. She’d watched him easily subdue a man twice his size. She’d watched him face off with his brothers. She’d seen Jordan angry and frustrated and deliberately provoking, but she’d never seen him in this type of rage. Oddly enough, though he’d startled her, she wasn’t afraid of him.

“No.” She emphasized that with a tiny shake of her head. “I love you,” she said very quietly, choking on her tears, “because of who you are.”

He stepped up to her until she had to tip her head back to see his face, until his bare chest brushed her knuckles clutching the sheet and his feet were braced on either side of hers. He surrounded her and overwhelmed her and then he whispered, “That’s why I love you, too.”

More tears blurred her vision and she rubbed them away, sniffing and gulping and sounded horribly like a frog. “But I—”

“You’re going to really piss me off,” he informed her, “if you put yourself down again.” She hiccuped on a laugh. Jordan raised one hand to gently smooth her cheek. “Weren’t you listening last night, baby? I love you. I’m crazy nuts about you. My whole family knows it, even my mother. Yes I have all the things you mentioned, but I don’t have you. And without you, I’m not going to be happy.”

“Oh Jordan.” She swallowed hard. “You really love me?”

He shook his head. “What did you think? That I just enjoy giving foot rubs?”

She lost what little control she had on her emotions and dropped the sheet again to throw herself into his arms. “I love you so much.”

“I do, you know,” he whispered. “Enjoy rubbing on you, I mean.” She laughed as he cradled her close. He slid his hands down to her backside and lifted her. “Marry me, Georgia. Let me have you. Let me make your family my own and give you mine and we can both be happy.”

“It…it doesn’t feel right to take that much from you.”

He rocked her into his erection. “Does this feel right?” When she nodded, he kissed her gently. “And this?”

“Jordan…”

“And this?”

Georgia had known from the start that he could seduce with just a few whispered words. Now she had firsthand proof.

Epilogue

“HEY DAD!”

Jordan looked up from making salad as Lisa came barreling through the front door, followed closely by Adam and two dogs, one a mixed-breed puppy and the other an ancient dachshund. They’d all been outside playing and smelled of sunshine and fresh crisp air. Between the children laughing and the dogs barking, the house was always filled with excitement.

Jordan knelt down and caught the children to him, hugging them fiercely. Life, he thought, was pretty damn good. “Mommy’s home,” Lisa told him, after a loud wet kiss to his cheek.

Seconds later Georgia strolled in. Under her coat, she wore her workout clothes of leotard and tights, guaranteed to make his blood boil. Seeing the skintight outfits affected him more strongly than her stage costumes had.

Of course, nothing affected him as much as her bare, beautiful skin.

He stood, and with the kids still close to his side and the dogs jumping between them, he gave her a long, thorough kiss. “Hi,” he whispered and she smiled back.

Her smiles, he decided, were downright lethal.

“What time is everyone due to arrive?”

Jordan took her coat from her and hung it on the back of an oak chair. Thanks to Gabe’s handyman skills, the remodelled kitchen had become a favorite hangout for everyone. “You have time to shower, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Can I do anything to help you first?”

Jordan went back to preparing his salad. “The sauce you made yesterday is already heating, and the spaghetti will go on as soon as the water starts to boil.” He glanced at the kids. “My assistant chefs can wash their hands and start to work on the garlic bread.”

Lisa grinned up at him. She’d lost another tooth and her words now whistled when she spoke. “Grandma said she’s bringin’ dessert.”

Jordan shook his head. Grandma, he knew darn good and well, was smitten with Mr. Malone, who would also be in attendance. Ruth had moved into his vacated apartments over the garage. Neither he nor Georgia had wanted her to, but she’d insisted on giving them time to be alone. When Misty and Honey had begged her to stay close since the babies loved her so much, she’d agreed. She was now a paid housekeeper/sitter with her own measure of independence, which she loved.

She also loved the way Mr. Malone hung around on the pretense of visiting his daughters, though Sawyer and Morgan were both quite disgruntled by that situation. Jordan sympathized with them. He didn’t understand the attraction at all. Ruth was so sweet and open and loving, but Mr. Malone—they’d known the man for ages and still called him mister—was so detached. Ruth claimed he was softening and that he wasn’t at all detached when they were alone. He wasn’t detached with any of the kids, either, and he was openly impressed with Casey.

Georgia touched his cheek. “You’ve got that protective look about you again.”

Jordan grinned at her. “Do you know how many people will be here tonight?” When she shook her head, sidetracked just as he’d hoped, he said, “Fourteen, if we include all the kids. When you add the four of us, that’s a lot of confusion. Are you sure you’re up to this after working all day?”

Adam crossed his arms in the same pose Jordan used. “We’ll need lots of garlic bread!”

Georgia laughed. “Yes, I’m up to it, and yes, we’ll need lots of bread.” Then to Jordan, “You know dancing doesn’t tire me. Just the opposite, I always feel energized after a class.”

In the two months since their small, quiet marriage, Georgia had gotten her studio set up and filled to the maximum with students. She taught not only dance classes for the fun of it, but also aerobics. She had people of all ages coming throughout the day. And true to her word, she was always bursting with energy.

Especially in the bedroom.

Jordan had to pull his thoughts away from that direction or he’d never survive the massive family gathering. Georgia left to shower and dress and a few minutes later all the relatives started to arrive.

He wasn’t surprised to see Casey with yet another beautiful young lady. He seldom saw the same girl twice these days, and other than a few surprise meetings, Emma hadn’t been around.

At her first bite of dinner, Georgia smiled at Jordan and said, “Delicious. You really are perfect at everything, aren’t you?”

Jordan grinned. He was used to her saying that, but obviously his family wasn’t.

Morgan choked on his spaghetti, then doubled over laughing. “Maybe perfect for you,” he laughed, “but I think old Jordan is plenty flawed. Now Malone, she prefers men with a little more steel, don’t ya, sweetheart?”

Misty pretended she hadn’t heard him, though everyone could see her trying not to smile. Amber said, “Daddy’s nasty.”

Sawyer shook his head. “Can’t you control him, Misty? He gets more outrageous by the day.”

“Look who’s talking!” Morgan said.

Sawyer was trying to eat and love on his wife and son at the same time. His mother took Shohn so she and Brett could spoil him just a bit, and Honey found her chair bumping up against her husband’s.

Gabe tipped Elizabeth’s chair toward him and kissed her hard. She didn’t even try to fight him off. Adam mimicked their smooching sounds until everyone laughed. Lisa announced to the table at large that her grandma and Mr. Malone were playing footsie beneath the table.

CASEY SAT BACK in his seat and watched them all with an indulgent smile. Things sure had changed over the past few years, and he loved it. He missed having Jordan so close, but they visited often, and it was obvious Jordan was as happy as a man could be. His father and uncles had all found the perfect women for them.

The girl beside Casey cleared her throat. She was uncomfortable in the boisterous crowd, but it didn’t matter. He doubted he’d see her again anyway. She was beautiful, sexy, and anxious to please him—but she wasn’t perfect for him. Though he was only eighteen and had quite a bit of college ahead of him, not to mention all his other plans, Casey couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever meet the perfect mate.

An image of big brown eyes, filled with sexual curiosity, sadness, and finally rejection, formed in his mind. With a niggling dread that wouldn’t ease up, Casey wondered if he’d already found the perfect girl—but had sent her away.

Then he heard Georgia talking to his date, and pulled himself out of his reverie. No, she wasn’t perfect, but she didn’t keep him awake nights, either. And that was good, because no matter what, no matter how he felt now, he would not let his plans get off track. He decided to forget all about women and the future and simply enjoy the night with his family.

IT WAS LATE when Casey finally got home after dropping off his date, and he’d just pulled off his shirt when a fist started pounding on the front door. He and his father met in the hall, both of them frowning. Honey pulled on her robe and hustled after them.

When Sawyer got the door open, they found themselves confronted with Emma’s father. He had his daughter by the arm, and he was obviously furious.

Casey’s first startled thought was that Emma wasn’t gone after all. Then he got a good look at her face and he erupted in rage.

He’d been wrong. His plans would change after all. In a big way.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-0367-3

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Sawyer

Morgan

Gabe

Jordan

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