"That's the point," Lily said. She stared at him for a long moment. "What are we doing?"

Brian reached out and slipped his hand over her nape, toying with her hair. "I don't know, Lily. But whatever it is, we're having fun, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are," she agreed. "But I'm just not… I don't know…" She shook her head, unable to put her confusion into words.

"It's all right," Brian murmured, brushing his mouth against hers. "We don't have to figure it out tonight, do we?"

They walked back through the house, turning lights off as they passed. When they reached the street, they headed toward Commonwealth Avenue, walking slowly, their arms around each other. People still crowded the streets, heading toward the T stations and the bus stops, their arms filled with blankets and lawn chairs and picnic coolers.

Lily wasn't sure she'd ever spend another Independence Day without thinking about her night on a Boston rooftop with Brian Quinn. She glanced over at him, still amazed by how sweet and handsome and funny he was. Giving in to an urge, she pulled him into the doorway of a shop and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him long and hard.

Brian chuckled, then dragged her back out on the sidewalk, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We're never going to get you home if you keep doing that." A woman stumbled into them and Lily held out her hand to keep her from falling.

"Miss Gallagher?"

Lily gasped as she recognized Richard Patterson's secretary, Mrs. Wilburn. Of all the people to run into tonight! The only person who might be higher on her list than Richard Patterson's loyal and devoted secretary was Richard Patterson himself.

Mrs. Wilburn glanced over at Brian, her gaze coming to rest on their hands, still clasped together. Lily swallowed hard and gently tugged her fingers from his. "Mrs. Wilburn, this is-"

"I know who you are," Mrs. Wilburn said, her expression unreadable, her eyebrow raised slightly.

"Brian Quinn," Lily finished.

"Did you enjoy the fireworks, Mr. Quinn?" Mrs. Wilburn asked.

"I did," he said. "We did. We watched from a rooftop on Beacon Street. They were really good this year. More… colorful, I think."

"Yes, well…" She turned back to Lily. "I'll see you at the office on Monday, Miss Gallagher. Have a pleasant weekend."

When she was out of earshot, Lily groaned then leaned back against a nearby fence post. "Oh, God, she knew we were together. She's going to tell Patterson. She's going to tell him and then he's going to fire me. I'm consorting with the enemy-in the truest sense of the word."

Lily started off down the street, weaving through the crowd. Brian quickly caught up to her. "I'm sorry, Lily. I suppose I could have just walked off, but I think she saw us together and it might have looked like we were trying to hide something."

"No!" Lily said. She stopped and turned on him. "I've spent the last week pretending that this wasn't standing between us. I actually thought I could separate my professional life from my personal life and I was doing a pretty good job of it. But we were both just kidding ourselves. We knew this would blow up in our faces at some point, so why not admit that we've reached that point."

"Lily, that's not what-"

"Why haven't you pushed your story about Patterson?" she demanded. "You've backed off, haven't you? Is it because of me?"

"No," Brian said. "I've just been working on other stories."

She drew a shaky breath. "Well, here's a news flash. Next week, we're doing the ground-breaking for the Wellston waterfront project. We pushed it up a month thinking that if we just did it, then the media would finally realize they can't stop us. As a media professional, I'd advise you to get your story on the air before people forget about the waterfront and the fishermen and start thinking about how nice it would be to eat at one of those fancy restaurants we have planned."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"Are you going to run your story?"

"Yes. When I'm ready."

"Then we'll be ready for you when you do."

"Since when is it 'we'?"

"I work for Richard Patterson," Lily said. "I represent his interests, first and foremost. That's my job, remember? And if Mrs. Wilburn tells him about what she saw, he's going to consider it a betrayal and I'm going to lose my job. A job I need to pay for the damn house I just bought." She paused, calming her anger. But her frustration couldn't be contained. "You don't care about my life, do you? All you care about is what we shared that night in the limo."

"What? You think I deliberately walked in this direction knowing that we'd run into Patterson's secretary on the street? It's a bad break, but we'll deal with it."

"You'd get everything you wanted in one easy step. I'd get fired and there will be no one to refute your story."

"You're being irrational, Lily. I don't want you to lose your job. And I don't care if you counter the story with one of your own. It's just a job. It's what we do to pay the rent. It doesn't have anything to do with what we feel."

Yes, she was being irrational. But it had everything to do with what she felt. Lily couldn't ignore the fact that losing her job would suddenly destroy the barriers that stood between them. There were times when she'd been ready to quit, to put her little battle with Brian Quinn behind them and explore the feelings they shared. But she needed her job. It was who she was.

This was all happening too fast! She was ready to give up everything she had worked for to have a man she barely knew. A man she wasn't sure she could trust. "I-I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

"I'll walk you back," Brian said.

Lily shook her head. "No, I need some time to think. Time to figure out how to handle this."

"Fine," he murmured.

To Lily's relief, he didn't fight her. She started down Commonwealth Avenue, moving along with the pace of the crowd, but not really watching where she was going. She wanted to feel angry, to lash out at Brian for everything he'd done to mess up her perfectly ordered life. It was his fault she'd lost control. If he hadn't been so sweet and sexy and-Lily cursed. It was his fault!

Lily stopped on the street and covered her face with her hands. All right, she was partially to blame. In truth, maybe this whole thing was her fault. She'd invited him into the limo that wonderful, incredible night-a groan slipped from her lips. Her life was falling apart and all she could think about was spending the rest of her life in bed with Brian Quinn!

"Get a grip," she muttered. "He's still the enemy. And I'll be damned if I'm the one who's going to surrender."

7

The day was only half-over and Lily was completely exhausted. She sat in her office, her shoes off, her feet tucked beneath her, staring out the window at a gloomy sky. Lightning flashed in the west, signaling the approach of a summer storm. If she were home right now, she'd have called in sick, curled up in bed, and had a nice little pity party for herself.

Her mind wandered back to Friday night and then to the last week she'd spent with Brian Quinn. When she'd first learned who he really was, Lily had known any contact with him would be dangerous. But she couldn't seem to resist him, no matter how hard she tried. He was sweet and sexy and charming and he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world.

But things were different between them now. Since running into Mrs. Wilburn, Lily couldn't think about Brian as the man she desired. He was the enemy again-an enemy responsible for ruining her professional reputation. Whatever happened, Lily was ready for it.

At least the confusion would finally come to an end. She'd know exactly where she stood. Lily had even pushed the issue with Brian, telling him about the ground-breaking, taunting him into running his story. From a business standpoint, it hadn't been the best move, especially if she managed to keep her job. But she was sick and tired of having his story hanging over her head. Sometimes it was better to face a problem head-on than try to figure out how to handle it if and when it came.

"It is all for the best," she murmured, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "Whatever happens." With a soft curse, Lily reached for her phone and punched in a familiar number.

"DeLay Scoville Public Relations," the receptionist said.

"Emma Carsten," Lily said, deepening her voice so that the woman wouldn't recognize her. She waited for her friend to answer. "Hi, Em. What's going on in Chicago?"

"Lily! I've been hoping you'd call. I went over to your house and watered your plants and picked up your mail. Everything is fine, but someone stole the pot of geraniums you had on the front stoop. What do you want me to do with the mail? There's a ton of junk and lots of magazines. And a card from your mother."

"I don't know," Lily said. "Hold on to it for now."

"All right." A long silence spanned the distance between them. "What's wrong, Lily? You sound a little bit upset."

Lily bit her bottom lip. Normally, she wouldn't hesitate to confide in Emma. But now that she found herself in a tangle of personal and professional troubles, maybe Emma wasn't the best person to tell. After all, she was a loyal employee of DeLay Scoville and wasn't the most objective observer. "I don't know. I'm starting to think I shouldn't have taken this job."

"Are you crazy? How could you refuse? DeLay almost wet his pants when he saw that retainer check. He's been talking about you ever since you left, how great you are, what a bright future you have at the agency. He's about to crown you 'Consultant of the Year' and put your name on a damn plaque in the lobby."