Emily giggled. “At least. Come along, Isaac.”

Before Mary could disappear, Ethan grabbed her arm. “Why are you sending them away? I wanted to speak with them about-”

“Relax, Curtis,” she said softly, her eyes bright with mischief. “They’ll be back. And because they want to, not because they’ve been hooked, yanked onto a boat and gutted.”

Equally shocked and impressed, Ethan studied her. “Very nice.”

She inclined her head. “Thank you.”

Ethan’s gaze followed her hungrily as she walked off to feed crème brûlée to his guests.

Some men resembled excessively tall penguins in their tuxedoes. Some looked awkward and uncomfortable. But Ethan Curtis wore his like a second skin. As he stalked his estate, he looked like a predator in search of his next prey-and he seemed to take his targets down with amazing speed and assuredness. By the end of the night, several potential clients had verbally signed on to Harrington Corp.’s already thick roster, and as Mary had predicted, the Underwoods had come back to him in a sugar haze, asking for a meeting at his office the following Monday.

When Mary found Ethan he was in the kitchen, looking very pleased with himself, his bow tie undone and falling against his open white shirt. Beer in hand, he chatted with the on-site chef, Jean Paul, as the man prepared to leave.

Mary shut her eyes against the sudden and unbidden image of Ethan out of that tux, his heavily muscled, tanned skin pressing down into the cushion of a woman’s body-her body. She despised her reaction to him and to the memory of those nights together. Why couldn’t she get it through her thick skull that those moments were over? Yes, sometimes he looked at her with a flicker of desire in his eyes, but the moment was over in seconds and he was back to business. He hadn’t even commented on how she looked tonight, and she was really working it.

She grabbed her purse from the counter by the fridge. What did it matter? She was the one insisting that nothing romantic ever happen again. She faced him and spoke in her most professional voice. “Well, we’re done here. If there’s nothing else…”

Jean Paul discreetly returned to his knives, and Ethan regarded her with open respect. “I owe you a very big thank-you.”

“You’re welcome. It was a success, I think.”

“Completely.” He came to stand before her, his dark-blue eyes glittering with the satisfaction of a tiger who’d just bagged several hunters for dinner. His sensuous mouth turned up at the corners as he grinned at her, stealing her breath. “In fact, many of my guests are wondering what you’ll come up with next.”

“They’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I’m wondering, too.” One of his dark brows lifted. “Do I have to wait?”

If he came any closer, she was going to lose it. Feeling irritatingly light-headed, she reached out for the granite countertop to steady herself. “We could discuss the menus and themes at any time.”

“How about now? I didn’t get one of the boat rides.”

“I don’t know if the guys are still out there.”

His grinned widened. “I think I can manage to take you for a ride myself.”

“Ethan Curtis, where have you been?” The slow, whiskey-smooth female voice came from behind Mary, and she turned with a jerk to see a five-foot-nine Playboy playmate, dressed in an orange tank dress.

“Allison, where did you come from?” Ethan asked, sounding more annoyed than surprised.

“Didn’t you say eleven? I don’t wear a watch, but I could swear I’m right on time.” Her voice and body language just screamed sex.

Mary heard Ethan curse, but she didn’t dare turn back to face him, not with her neck turning red as she knew it was. He had a date. An after-party date. Of course he did. Why not?

“Wait for me by the pool, Allison,” Ethan said, his voice soft but commanding. “I’m not quite finished here.”

Finding her nerve at long last, Mary forgot about her red neck and gave the hot blonde a hotter glare. “Allison, is it?”

She smiled. “Two Ls and two Ns.”

Brilliant and beautiful, Mary mused dryly. What a combination. “You don’t need to go anywhere. Mr. Curtis and I are finished.” She turned to Ethan and gave him a fake smile. “I’ll call you in a few days, sir-to discuss the next function.”

Anger burned in her stomach and, as she walked swiftly through his house and out the front door, she called herself fourteen kinds of fool for even considering him in a romantic way. He was an egotistical, spoiled player who had no idea what he really wanted.

“Mary, slow down.” Ethan caught up with her on his driveway and grabbed her hand as she tried to open her car door.

She brushed him off. “I have work waiting for me at home and you have a Barbie twin waiting for you by the pool.”

“I made that date weeks ago. Before…well…” He pushed a hand through his hair. “This is awkward.”

“Damn right,” she retorted in a sharp voice. “So, I’m going to go now before it gets any more awkward.”

“No.”

“I’m not into threesomes, Curtis.”

“I didn’t even know you were interested in a twosome.”

Gritting her teeth, Mary stared at him. “Ditto.”

He took a moment to process her meaning. “If you think I don’t want to go to bed with you again, you’re wrong.”

“Who the hell could tell?”

“What does that mean?”

“You hardly looked at me tonight,” she said with a scowl. “Then the cover of Sluts-R-Us magazine walks in and your eyes pop out of-”

“I see you, Mary,” he interrupted hotly. “I remember every damn detail.”

“But?”

“Weren’t you the one who said that what happened those nights at the lake would never happen again?”

She hated when the truth was tossed in her face. “Yes.” She wrenched open her car door.

“And it’s complicated, isn’t it?” he continued. “What we did? What we made? Who I am.”

“Who you are? I can’t figure it out.”

“The bastard who blackmailed you…basically.”

His words shocked her. The easy admission of something so base and vile. She got in her car and slammed the door. “So, what? You feel guilty?”

“No.”

“Of course not. You see nothing wrong with what you did.”

“I don’t feel guilty, that’s true. But I do feel…” He cursed. “Conflicted. Protective.” He shrugged, as if the truth surprised the hell out of him. “Isn’t that the damnedest thing?”

“Protective? Of whom?”

“You.”

“You’re protecting me from you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well, stop it,” she said caustically, gunning her engine. “Sex doesn’t have to be any more emotionally significant than a really charged football game.”

The words exploded into the air like fireworks, but she didn’t believe them, and she knew that he knew she didn’t believe it. What was she trying to do? Why couldn’t she abandon this idea of him and her, one more time, or two or three? What was she? A masochist?

“Mary-”

“Go prove my point to Allison in there,” she said bitingly before shoving the car into Reverse and taking off down the quiet, wooded drive.

Four

Mary sat in Little Bo and Peep’s baby shop, up to her eyeballs in terry cloth, stretch cotton, bouncy seats and black and white mobiles. For the past twenty minutes, she hadn’t been able to pick out a single thing for the nursery. She knew exactly what clothes she loved, what crib and bassinet she wanted, she even knew the drawer pulls she would pick out if this were all real. But designing a nursery for a child that didn’t exist was next to impossible. She felt like a total fraud and she wanted to give up.

The doorbell over the shop entrance jangled merrily, and Mary watched a young couple come through the door with excited grins. They oohed and aahed as they moved from one quaint set of nursery furniture set to the next, hands clasped tightly, the woman’s round stomach looking like a sweet watermelon. She wanted that. A real relationship, a real baby…something impossible to have with Ethan Curtis. Mary’s mind rolled back to the party and how it had ended. For the past two days she’d thought of nothing but him and that blonde, and her own irrational need to be with him again. She’d wondered what had happened after she’d left. Had Ethan met her by the pool? Did they go for a swim together? Allisonn-two Ls, two Ns-hadn’t seemed like the kind of woman who thought swimsuits were all that important.

Beside her, the young mother pointed at a tiny Minnesota Twins baseball cap and squealed with delight, catching Mary’s eye in the process. Mary forced a smile, then moved on to look at bathtubs and safety accessories. Why the hell did she care what Ethan did? Or who he did, for that matter? She had to get over this.

The saleswoman walked by her again with that look all salespeople give a person when they think you’re lingering without purpose.

Are you stealing or just indecisive?

“Right, I get it,” Mary grumbled under her breath as she abandoned the bath supplies and headed to the front of the store. Nothing was going to happen today. She wasn’t about to do any work on the nursery in her state of mind. If Ethan asked her how she was progressing, she’d just have to stall and-

“Mary?”

Coming into the shop just as Mary was exiting was a very elegant woman in her midseventies, dressed in a thin crepe navy blue suit, her white hair swept off her mildly wrinkled face in a tightly pinned chignon.

“Grandmother? What are you doing here?”

Grace Harrington surveyed her granddaughter, her perfectly arched brows lifting at the sight of Mary’s plain black pantsuit and slightly scuffed heels. To Grace Harrington, clothes were like Ziplock baggies, only good for one use.

“Pearl Edicott’s granddaughter is expecting twins,” her grandmother said in a pinched tone. “Pearl has the most horrific taste. It’s a very good thing she knows it.”