Sucking in a shaky breath, Carter leaned back against the shower door and closed her eyes. She’d just been naked and two feet away from a woman who had looked at her more than once with open appreciation. Today Rica’s gaze had held an invitation. Her assignment was to gain the woman’s trust, by any means possible, and she’d stood there and done nothing. What the hell was wrong with her?

Carter pulled on baggy sweatpants and a Boston Bruins T-shirt, slid on her running shoes, and made her way into the kitchen. Rica stood at the counter with her back to the room, assembling breakfast.

“I’m sorry. I knocked,” Rica said without turning.

“No problem,” Carter replied. I wish you’d done more than look. And since when do I wait for a woman to make the first move?

“I thought we’d eat outside,” Rica said, lifting the tray.

“Here, let me take that.” Carter reached for the tray and their hands brushed. She swore she could see sparks jump into the air.

Rica backed up a step and relinquished the tray. “Thanks.”

Carter followed Rica onto the deck and set the food in the middle of the round, beveled-glass table. As she settled into one of the wrought-iron chairs, she indicated the Bruins logo on the shirt. “Are you a fan?”

Rica shook her head as she poured coffee. “No. But my father is. You?”

“I have six brothers. Of course I’m a fan.”

“Six?” Rica stared. “My God.”

Carter smiled. Although a basic tenet of undercover work was to tell the truth whenever possible, because veracity always sounded more believable than lies and you were less likely to get tripped up down the road, she didn’t usually extend that rule to disclosing information about her personal life. But then, none of the rules seemed to apply to her and Rica. “My father kept trying for girls.”

“So you’re the youngest?”

Carter shook her head. “Next to the youngest. My parents decided after my baby brother Charles was born that I was a fluke. They gave up on making me a sister.”

“What was it like? Growing up with all those brothers?”

“I learned survival skills at an early age.”

Rica laughed.

“It was fine,” Carter said, sipping the coffee. “God, this is good. They were tough, but fair. If I didn’t cry when I got hurt and didn’t tattle to my parents about anything ever, they let me play whatever they were playing.”

“Did you ever win?” Rica asked with an oddly thoughtful expression on her face.

“Once in a while. I got to be very fast. And sneaky.”

“Really?” Rica gazed at Carter over the top of her coffee mug, which she cradled between her long, slim fingers. “Funny, you don’t strike me as the nefarious sort.”

Carter’s stomach clenched. For the first time that she could remember, she hated her job. She felt a flush rise to her face and was helpless to stop it. “I try not to be when it really matters.”

“Good.” Rica indicated the tray of bagels and spreads. “You should eat something. You must be hungry after that run. Is that your normal routine?”

“Not really,” Carter said as she broke a bagel in half. She looked up to find Rica’s intent gaze on her. “I was trying to run you out of my system.”

Rica’s lips parted in surprise and her eyes widened slightly. A smile played across her mouth. “Did you learn that line from one of your brothers?”

“No.” Carter took a bite of the bagel, chewed, and swallowed. “They got it from me.”

Laughing, Rica tossed her head back, and sunlight shimmered over her hair in ebony waves. “You must be an excellent attorney.”

“When I need to be.” Carter decided that she liked Rica’s laughter even more than her beautiful smile. Knowing she should push the flirtation, but inexplicably backing away from it, she changed the subject. “There’s just you, isn’t there? I mean, no brothers or sisters?”

“Just me,” Rica said. “My father didn’t remarry right away, and when he did, there were no further children.”

“I used to be jealous of my friends with no siblings.”

“And I used to envy my friends with big families.”

Carter was rewarded with another one of Rica’s rare smiles. “How’s business?”

Rica raised an eyebrow.

“The gallery,” Carter said with exaggerated emphasis. “I’m assuming our deal is still on.”

“What deal?”

“Not to discuss other business when we’re together.”

“Business is good,” Rica conceded. “I built a strong client list in New York, and many of the artists are happy to expand to another market. I’m going to have an open house as soon as I get a little more organized. Probably early June. You should come. Wine and cheese, some of the local artists will be there.”

“I will. Thanks.” Carter reached for the coffee carafe and refilled her own cup and Rica’s. “But that’s almost a month away. I’m going to see you before then, aren’t I?”

“When are you going back to the mainland?”

Carter did a silent mental assessment, trying to sort out how quickly she should try to move things ahead. Her body said one thing and her professional judgment another. She went with the surge of heat rippling through her nervous system. “I’m back and forth pretty much all the time. That’s the nice thing about working for yourself. I set my own schedule.”

Rica reached across the table and took Carter’s hand. “Well, I hope you intend to make room for me.”

The morning grew very still. Even the seagulls quieted. Carter stared at Rica’s fingers closed loosely over hers. It was the first time she’d ever truly heard her own heartbeat. She should have had a cool response, but her throat was dry and whatever came out was going to be anything but cool. She looked into Rica’s eyes. She had never realized that black could come in so many shades, and then she realized that Rica’s irises were comprised of subtly shifting shades of dark purples and grays, and not black at all. She wondered how many other things she’d been wrong about. “Does this fall under the category of casual and inconsequential occurrences?”

“It falls under I’m very attracted to you and I’m hoping that I’ll get to see you in my bathroom without clothes again,” Rica said.

Carter fought to keep her expression nonchalant. “It hasn’t escaped me that you didn’t answer the question. Casual and inconsequential?”

Rica smiled. “That didn’t matter to you last night when you kissed me.”

“That kiss kept me awake all night.”

“Me too.” Rica skimmed her thumb over the top of Carter’s hand. “You seem to have an unforgettable mouth.”

Carter found herself in the inexplicable position of sitting outdoors under a clear blue sky and feeling uncomfortably short of breath. She couldn’t get enough air. Her chest squeezed down until her head was swimming. She was about to drown in the invitation in Rica’s voice. Very carefully, she pushed to her feet, afraid she might stumble and pitch backward right over the railing.

“Thanks for breakfast.” Carter gripped the railing to steady herself. “If I stay another minute, you’re going to have to take me to bed and put me out of my misery.”

Rica leaned back in her chair, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. “Would that be so bad?”

“Ask me again when my brain cells are functioning.” Carter leaned down and braced her arms on either side of Rica, curling her fingers over the cool iron of the armrests. She kissed her, because she had to, or explode. She kissed her as she had the night before, without touching her with anything but her mouth, exploring the soft smooth surface of her lips with the tip of her tongue, slowly probing inside, deeper this time, losing herself in the inner heat. She moaned and broke the kiss when Rica slid a hand beneath her T-shirt and trailed her fingers over Carter’s abdomen.

“The next time,” Rica said, leaning her head back against the chair and letting her hands fall palms up onto her thighs, “a kiss, even a great kiss, is not going to be enough. Not when you take me halfway there just from the feel of you inside my mouth.”

Carter closed her eyes for a second, fighting to keep her legs under her. “Jesus.”

“You’re going to have to make up your mind, Carter,” Rica said. “This time yesterday morning you wanted me in bed. Now you don’t.”

“Rica,” Carter said with a shake of her head, “it’s not…”

“I don’t need to know the reasons. And I’m not asking for them.” Rica stood and stepped so close that her breasts pressed lightly against Carter’s chest. She skimmed her mouth along the rim of Carter’s ear. “But if you’re going to play with me, don’t quit until we finish the game.”

Carter desperately wanted to hold her. She wanted to kiss her again. She wanted to lie down next to her and touch every inch of her body. She wanted to make her laugh and moan and cry out with pleasure. She wanted her so badly she ached in her bones. And she was afraid to touch her when a lie stood between them, and she didn’t know what the hell to do about it. “I’m not playing.”

Rica touched a finger to Carter’s lips. “Of course you are.”

Then Rica turned and disappeared inside the house, leaving Carter, stunned and so aroused she could barely move, to wander down the outside stairs to the street and make her way home. She needed the walk to figure out why she couldn’t do what she’d been sent there to do, and she knew with certainty that a couple of miles was not going to be enough.

Tory walked down the narrow path beside the clinic and let herself in the back door. She didn’t want to see Randy, because she knew the look of sympathy in his eyes would only make her sadness deepen. What she needed was to settle into routine, to focus on her patients and their problems to the exclusion of her own. In the years after she and KT had parted, she’d sought forgetfulness, if not solace, in her work. Eventually she had achieved a modicum of peace. She didn’t expect that now, but she hoped that she would at least be able to keep the pain at bay.