A grin lifted one corner of her mouth. "I definitely think I should put a sofa in this foyer."

"Might be a good idea. Probably should think about one in the kitchen, too." He glanced down at the bags on the floor. "I think the eggs broke."

"What did you need them for?"

"I was hoping for an invite for breakfast."

"You're invited. And don't worry about the eggs." She shot him an exaggerated leer. "I'll have 'Josh over easy' for breakfast."

"Honey, you've already got 'Josh scrambled.' Seeing you open the door like this-" his hinds gently squeezed her bare butt "-I don't know if I'm comin' or goin'."

"Hmm. Well, tell you what. You feed us, then we'll 'go' to bed and I'll show you all about 'coming.'"

"Sounds like a plan. And I can vouch that you give good lessons, Miss Lexie."

She ran her finger over his bottom lip and adopted a prim, schoolmarmish expression that would have proved more convincing had she not been naked and still wrapped around his hips. "Of course I give good lessons. I am a teacher."

"That's perfect. 'Cause I'm more than willing to learn."


* * *

Lexie watched Josh all through dinner, and as the meal progressed, it became increasingly obvious that something was troubling him. He picked at his food and was uncharacteristically quiet. He caught the conversational ball when she tossed it, but he wasn't throwing out any first pitches. She knew he planned to talk to her about something-and she'd hoped that that something was good news. Good news about their future. Good news about a way they could work things out and be together. But his silence and the way he avoided her eyes made those hopes die a slow, withering death. A knot formed in her stomach, growing until she couldn't force down another bite. Finally she set down her fork.

"Josh, what's wrong?"

He looked up and met her gaze with a troubled expression, a fact that edged further unease down her spine.

"Nothing's wrong," he said. Setting aside his napkin, he added, "But we definitely need to talk."

Her stomach executed a maneuver that would have impressed even the most finicky of Olympic judges. Not just we need to talk but we DEFINITELY need to talk. The addition of that adverb did not bode well at all.

Forcing a lightness into her voice she was far from feeling, she said, "I'm listening."

"We've sort of avoided the subject, but we both know I'm scheduled to leave here soon. And… I've got to go."

Another stomach triple somersault. "Back to Manhattan."

He hesitated. "Not exactly. Although I will have to go there." Reaching across the table, he clasped her hands. She forced herself not to avert her gaze from the bad news she clearly read in his expression. Whatever he was about to say, she wasn't going to like it. Knew it wasn't we're going to be together.

"I've accepted an invitation to take part in a rodeo next month."

Nope. That definitely wasn't We're going to be together. Damn it, she hated it when she was right. His statement reverberated through her mind, the ramifications striking her like openhanded slaps. She swallowed to wet her throat and dislodge the lump that had settled there.

"You're coming out of retirement." Was that flat, lifeless voice hers? Yup, sure was. And here she sat, with the Michael Jordan of rodeo. Numbness crept into her limbs. How many times had Mike unretired himself now? Two? Three?

"Yes, I'm coming out of retirement." And then, for a man who had remained mostly silent since she'd greeted him at the door wearing nothing other than cologne, Josh turned into a regular chatterbox, talking in excited tones about an international rodeo event in Monaco, and how this was his big chance to best the man to whom he'd come in second place during his final competition.

Lexie listened with half an ear, absorbing enough of the details to know what was going on, but not really interested in much past the fact that he was going back to the rodeo. To the danger. To a lifestyle where he was a celebrity-and all the trappings that came with that. But mostly to the danger. And by God, he looked so happy about it! His eyes practically glowed when he spoke about having another shot at beating this Wes Handly.

"And what makes this even better news," Josh said, squeezing her hands, "is that Monaco is on the Mediterranean. While I'm there, I can take my sail."

She could only stare. "Better news?" she echoed once she located her voice. "How is that better? So maybe you'll drown instead of getting stomped to death by a bull?" Stark fear, mixed with a dose of anger, seeped into her veins, taking the place of the numbness that had invaded her. "Josh, you are nowhere near ready to sail the Mediterranean."

"You're right." Before relief could set in that he at least realized that, he added, "So come with me. Help me sail. Enjoy the rodeo. Think what a great time we'd have together. It would be like a vacation."

Her entire body went cold. For a few seconds she couldn't even take air into her lungs. It was as if all the oxygen had left the room. But then a sense of frigid calm settled over her. She eased her hands from his and looked him straight in the eye.

"Vacation? Great time? Exactly what part of it would be great? Traveling? As you well know, I have no desire to travel. Watching you risk your life riding in the rodeo? The mere thought of it scares me to death and makes me feel ill. Risking my life as well as yours sailing the Mediterranean? I know how to sail, but I'm not expert enough to consider such an undertaking, especially with an inexperienced crewmate."

"Lexie, I-"

"I knew it," she said, shaking her head. "I must have been out of my mind to get involved with you. How stupid could I have been to believe for even a millisecond that you'd stay retired? Wouldn't constantly crave danger and thrills? Once an adrenaline junkie, always an adrenaline junkie." She narrowed her eyes at him. "When exactly did you make this idiotic decision?"

Annoyance flared in his eyes. "It isn't idiotic-"

"We're going to have to agree to disagree on that one. When?"

A muscle in his jaw jumped. "Three days ago."

Three days ago. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Or to scream. "And you're just getting around to mentioning it now." A humorless laugh escaped her. "Why did you bother to tell me at all? Oh, let me guess! You knew how I'd react, and you didn't want to do anything that would upset the sexual applecart before it was absolutely necessary. Makes me wonder why you didn't just wait a few more days-toss out the info on your way to the airport."

He jumped to his feet. Slapping his palms on the table, he leaned over her, his eyes flashing with a combination of anger and frustration. "Damn it, Lexie, that's not fair. I didn't tell you until now because the plans weren't firmly set until today's meeting. There was no point in worrying you about it until I'd signed the contracts and it was a done deal."

She looked up at him. Was it possible to actually feel your heart breaking? "You're absolutely right. There was no reason for you to discuss any of your future plans with me."

"There's every reason. I just didn't want something that might not have even happened to come between us-"

"Before it was absolutely necessary," she finished for him.

He straightened, then raked his hands through his hair. "Yes. But when you say it like that it makes it sound dishonest, and I wasn't being dishonest."

"Of course not. You were simply withholding the truth to protect me. To spare my feelings and to keep me from worrying."

His expression turned wary. "Somehow this is starting to sound like one of those 'does this dress make my ass look fat' girl-trap things."

She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Not at all. You were being honorable."

"I was trying to be, yes."

"And of course, you didn't want our fling to end any sooner than it had to."

Grasping her upper arms, he pulled her to her feet. "This is not a fling," he said through clenched teeth.

"Not anymore," she agreed. "This fling is officially flung." She pulled in a deep breath, not sure how much longer she was going to be able to hang on to her anger and not crumple like a house of cards in a windstorm. "Look, Josh, we had some good times, but we both knew this was temporary, that anything long-term was impossible."

"It is not impossible. We can-"

"No. We can't. Nothing has changed. We live thousands of miles apart. You have responsibilities in Montana, and my life is here. And even if, by some miracle, we could solve the geographic problems, I cannot live with this decision you've made. There will always be another rodeo, another reason to come out of retirement and risk your life. Or if it's not a bucking bull, then some other dangerous enterprise like sailing the seas will tempt you."

His serious dark eyes still simmered with annoyance. "I can't deny that the rodeo is dangerous, but your job isn't exactly danger-free, either."

An incredulous sound gurgled in her throat. Before she could utter a word, he plunged on, "Don't you think there are dangers associated with what you do? People are injured water-skiing and on those Jet-Ski things all the time. And parasailing? You don't think there's an element of danger in that? And even experienced swimmers can drown in rough water or get caught in an undertow. How about scuba diving? You could run out of air, or get attacked by all those dangerous things in the ocean-like sharks."

She resisted the urge to look heavenward. "This is Florida. There are 'things' in the ocean, including sharks."