Grey had never been one for flowery speeches, yet this sweet confession touched her on such a deep level a lump formed in the back of her throat. And on the heels of that came a fresh wave of anger that he would manipulate her already shredded emotions. Dammit, she was tired of tears and tired of hurting!

"And you know what I thought about while the house was being built and we were flipping through sample booklets of wallpaper and carpeting?" She didn't give him a chance to respond, but he definitely looked taken aback by her outburst. "I imagined this room as a nursery."

He frowned, the color draining from his face.

"That's right, Grey," she went on relentlessly, though her heart seemed to shrivel at his reaction. "I imagined children running through the house and playing in the backyard. Children with your dark hair and my blue eyes. I imagined us sitting at the dining room table as a family and helping our kids with their homework."

He stared, jaw tight.

No, he definitely didn't want to hear about her dreams, and she couldn't go on without them. "I guess we both had different perceptions of the future, didn't we?" she whispered, her fury spent.

A low, rough breath left him. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Mariah, I'm packed up." John's voice drifted up the stairs and into the room. "Let's get a move on."

She stepped around Grey, intending to leave. When her skirt brushed his pant leg he gently grasped the thin material and tugged, forcing her to stop. Her gaze met his stormy one, and she damned her body for its instantaneous response, and he hadn't even touched her physically.

"Mariah-"

"I've got to go," she said quickly, pulling her skirt from his loose fist. Reluctantly he uncurled his fingers, looking away as she fled the room.

His blunt curses burned her ears all the way down the spiral staircase.


"YOU'VE GONE OFF the deep end, Nichols," Grey muttered to himself.

Sinking farther into his Jeep Cherokee's leather seat, he continued to stake out the front of Casual Elegance, waiting for Mariah to emerge so he could execute his rash, last-ditch-effort plan. It was Friday evening, and except for Mariah's champagne BMW, which was parked next to his vehicle, the lot was devoid of cars.

He hadn't talked to her all week, not since the night she'd left his house with her photographer. And every night since, he'd lain in bed and replayed their conversation in his mind, wishing he'd been able to say all the things she wanted to hear. Wishing, too, that he could offer her all the things she yearned for and deserved. Like marriage and children.

Thing was, he couldn't lie to her, and he couldn't make her promises that would never come true. He didn't know how to love, had only learned from his mother how destructive and desperate that emotion could be. And having had only his own father as a role model, he feared he'd make a damned lousy parent.

No, he couldn't give her the commitment that was all too important to her, but he could give her the answers she sought. He owed her that much.

But in order to do that, he needed time alone with her.

Another ten long minutes and she finally stepped out of the front entrance and locked the glass door. She wore a dressy short outfit in a bright fuschia-and-turquoise print that displayed the incredible length and sexy shape of her legs. Purse and briefcase in hand, she turned and headed toward her car. Knowing it was now or never, he slid out of the Jeep and started toward her.

"Grey?" Her steps slowed, and her gaze turned wary. "Is everything okay?"

He probably didn't look okay, he thought. He wore faded jeans, a T-shirt and aviator glasses that concealed his thoughts and emotions. His stride was purposeful.

"You're coming with me." Grasping her elbow, he escorted her to the passenger side of the Jeep and opened the door. "Get in."

She hesitated, then climbed into the beige leather seat. Confusion and concern etched her features. Taking advantage of her bewildered state, he closed her door and jogged around to the driver's side. Sliding in, he turned on the ignition. Less than a minute later they were on the freeway, heading north.

She looked at him as though he were a few slices short of a full loaf. He was beginning to think he was. "Grey, are you going to tell me what's going on?" Moving into the fast lane, he pressed his foot on the accelerator. He glanced at Mariah, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I'm kidnapping you for the weekend."

Chapter Five

Mariah's jaw dropped as she stared at Grey. Kidnapping her? "You can't be serious."

"I'm very serious," he said, taking his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. Even though he wore reflective sunglasses, she could feel his intense gaze as strongly as if the lenses were nonexistent. "Have you ever known me to lie?"

Never, but she couldn't fathom why he'd go to this extreme. "Why would you want to kidnap me?"

"So we can be alone," he stated simply.

She frowned at his logic. "We're alone now."

He sped up to pass an old Buick poking along in the fast lane. "It's not enough. I want the weekend."

Three days and two nights of Grey's company. There was a time when she would have been thrilled to have him all to herself for forty-eight hours. Now, it would be pure torture. "This is insane, Grey." His crazy antic caused an equal dose of frustration and anger to course through her. "You can't just kidnap me off the street and whisk me away without anyone knowing where I am."

A smug smile lifted the corners of his mouth, matching the arrogance in his voice when he spoke. "If you haven't noticed, I already have."

With effort, she held her rising temper in check. "Take me back to the shop."

"I will," he promised, "on Sunday."

She tried a more rational approach. "Grey, even if I wanted to-" which she didn't, she tried telling herself "-I can't go somewhere with you for the weekend. I have no extra clothes, no makeup or shampoo-"

"I'll buy whatever you need."

She shook her head. "Jade is going to freak if I don't come home tonight. We were supposed to go out this evening."

His body tensed, and she couldn't help but notice the way the muscles in his thighs rippled beneath the soft denim of his jeans. "To Roxy's?" His voice was tight and disapproving.

She swallowed and lifted her gaze back to his face. "It doesn't matter where, only that I have other plans and Jade is going to worry if she doesn't hear from me."

"We'll stop in a bit and you can call her," he offered.

"How generous," she muttered, knowing it was futile to argue with Grey once he'd set his mind to something. "Where, exactly, are you taking me?"

"Lake Arrowhead."

Other than that Lake Arrowhead was a quaint city in the mountains, she couldn't imagine why he'd take her there. "What's in Lake Arrowhead?"

"Privacy."

"I don't understand." And she truly didn't. Why would they need privacy when she'd made it abundantly clear over the past couple of weeks that they were no longer a couple? Not that he'd respected her many requests to keep his distance or let her get on with her personal life. "Why are you making this so difficult?"

He cast her a quick glance. "All I want is one weekend alone with you. No one to bother us, no interrupting phone calls." A lopsided grin creased his face. "Hell, I even left my pager and cell phone at home."

"I'm impressed," she said wryly.

"You should be, considering I've never done this for anyone." Sobering, he reached across the distance separating them and rested his hand on her nylon-clad knee. "Please, Mariah?"

Mariah couldn't breathe for the heat his hand generated, and the sparks created by the fingers lightly stroking the sensitive curve of her leg.

"One weekend," he implored, his voice husky.

Gathering her wits before she softened to his will, she lifted his hand and placed it on the console. "Why should I? It won't change anything between us, and I don't want to spend the entire weekend rehashing our nonrelationship."

"No rehashing, I promise."

"If you haven't noticed, any time we're alone lately all we do is argue, fight and dredge up issues that never get resolved."

"Yeah, I've noticed," he said grimly. Taking off his glasses, he set them on the dash and looked at her for as long as was reasonable considering he was navigating the road. Only then did she see the weariness lining his features and the dullness in his eyes. "Mariah, I've been miserable. I was hoping if we spent the weekend alone, without any interruptions, we could work things out."

A huge lump formed in her throat. More than anything she wanted their relationship to work, but their ideals for the future were too vast. She wanted and needed a husband and babies. He wanted the convenience of having her live with him without the total commitment of marriage. Their opposing views seemed cut-and-dried to her, and not something she was willing to negotiate.

"There's nothing to work out," she said quietly.

He stared straight ahead, his jaw tightening. He was silent for so long she wondered if her words had finally given him the jolt of reality he needed to face the truth-that their relationship was over. For good.

His fingers gripped the leather steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. "Do you remember the day at the park when you said I don't share?"

She remembered everything about that day in the park: his teasing, the press of his body against hers when they'd fallen, their heated debate about love and sharing and especially the anguish in his eyes just before she'd walked away. "Yes, I remember."