"It's lust," he said.

"I know," she agreed, "but what's wrong with a little lust between two consenting adults? We're getting married, after all. Unless there is someone else."

"There is no one," he said. "What if you got pregnant?"

"I'll go back on the pill," Ashley replied. "You may be a Catholic, but I suspect you don't object to the pill."

"You'd do that?" The brown eyes he turned on her were making her hot.

"Sure. I'll call Dr. Sam on Monday. I suspect you're like all the macho men-you don't like condoms. If we both get a clean bill of health, and you abide by my rules, then we can't rule sex out of the equation."

"Rules?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Look, all I ask is that if you're screwing me, you don't do other women. Okay? I certainly won't be doing other men." Except, of course, my two boys on the Channel, but that's not really real so it doesn't matter, Ashley thought. And maybe I won't need them if you're as good as I think you're going to be.

"Seems reasonable," he agreed.

"And I'd like to hold off until the wedding," Ashley said. "Or at least until we've both been given a clean bill of health."

"That's fair," he murmured, "but we could play a little, couldn't we?"

They were on the porch, and he was sitting on a wicker settee while she paced back and forth in the half-light. Reaching up, he pulled her into his lap.

"Hey!" Ashley said, surprised.

"I can't seem to help myself," he admitted. "All my life I had this picture in my head of the ideal woman for me. She would be petite. Blond. Helpless, and I would be her savior. You don't quite fit the bill, do you?"

"I guess I don't," Ashley agreed.

"But one look into those big green eyes of yours, and all I could think of was getting into your pants," he said. "I feel like a lecher, but damn it, you excite me!" His hand fumbled at the back of her shirt, seeking her bra snap.

"It's in the front," Ashley said, reaching to undo the bra herself. "Well, I don't know what I was expecting, but a guy six feet and a hundred inches tall, with a face like a model, wasn't on the agenda. You excite me too. And there's nothing wrong with good old-fashioned lust, Ryan Mulcahy. Just so long as we understand each other." She undid the top two buttons on her shirt.

His hand slid eagerly in to cup a breast in his palm. He sighed, feeling the soft weight in his hand. Opening her shirt fully, he pushed it off her shoulders and stared at her breasts. They were large, but not big. And they had nipples like blown roses. "God, these are beautiful," he said, and he began to kiss them.

Ashley sighed with pure pleasure. It had been several months since a man had made love to her. But oh, Lord, she knew it couldn't go much further. He was a passionate man, and she, for all her calm exterior, was a passionate woman. It would take very little to put them in a very compromising position. She could already feel his penis straining against the fabric of his slacks and her butt. But still, she closed her eyes and sighed again as his lips moved over her chest and up her throat to find her lips. He was pure heaven, and she was already wet for him. "Stop," she said, pulling gently away.

"Just a little more," he begged her, his hands fondling her breasts.

"No," she told him. "If we don't stop now I don't know what will happen."

"Yeah, you do," he countered, and fastened her bra back together before buttoning her shirt back up. "If we keep on like this I'm going to fuck the ears off of you, Ashley. You know that, don't you?" He nipped at her earlobe. "I cannot believe how hot I am for you."

She struggled to her feet, standing on shaky legs. "Me too," she told him.

"Tell me you want me to fuck you right now, Ashley," he said. "Tell me you want me to go deep and hard until you can't stop coming."

"No," she told him softly. "If I say it we're going to do it, and I'm not that kind of a woman, Ryan. And you really don't want me to be."

He nodded. "No, I don't," he agreed. "But I have never had such an instant attraction to a woman in my life. I don't understand it."

"When was the last time you were with a woman?" she asked him.

He thought, and then shook his head. "A long time, I guess," he said.

"So you're overdue for a good screwing," Ashley told him. "And we are going to get married in a few weeks, so you're ready to rumble. But I'm not. Do you excite me? God, yes! But I keep remembering the fraternity guy who did me twice in college and then bailed. And I remember the two men who were marrying me, but somehow never made it to the altar. So since we're making a marriage of convenience I think we'll just be old-fashioned and wait until our wedding night. Okay?"

"I'll wait quietly," he said, "but only if I can play with those again."

"I'll think about it," Ashley said with a grin. "Now I'm going up to bed. Good night, Ryan Mulcahy."

"Good night, Ashley Kimbrough," he replied.

Chapter 4

"Why, you're beautiful," Angelina Mulcahy said by W way of greeting to Ashley. She took the younger woman's hands in hers and, leaning forward, kissed her on both cheeks. "Welcome to my home, cara . I hope we are, despite the unusual circumstances of this impending marriage, going to be friends."

"I don't think I've ever been greeted so sweetly, Mrs. Mulcahy. Thank you for having me," Ashley replied as her future mother-in-law slipped her arm through hers and led her into the living room of the gracious house.

"You must call me Lina, cara . All my friends do," Angelina Mulcahy said. She was pleased. Very pleased indeed. Ashley was tall and healthy-looking. She had a wide span between her hips, which was good for childbearing. Yes. Ray had done well, even if this girl was an independent American. And she had never particularly cared for the blondes that her only son said he preferred. This girl had beautiful coloring. She was like a Tintoretto Madonna. And she appeared to have manners, for all she had been raised by an old man and his servants. She sat Ashley on the settee. "Now, you will tell me all about yourself," Angelina said. "You had a brother?"

"Yes, Ben. He died in Desert Storm," Ashley answered.

Angelina crossed herself piously. "God rest him, and bless him for the service he rendered our country," she murmured.

The doorbell rang, and Ryan went to let his youngest sister in. "Hey, babe," he greeted her. "Ash is getting the third degree right now from Ma."

Frankie Mulcahy O'Connor stood for a minute in the entry between the living room and the hall. "God, she's beautiful, Ryan. You didn't say she was beautiful."

"First thing Ma said to her," he told his sister. "I think I was too busy getting past the she-isn't-a-blonde stage."

"You can be such a jerk sometimes," Frankie told him. Then, giving him a friendly shove, she walked into the living room. "Hi, Ma. Hi, Ashley. I'm Frankie, the good sister." She grinned mischievously.

"So I've heard," Ashley said with an answering grin. Then she hugged Frankie.

Angelina nodded her approval. A warm heart. This girl had a warm heart.

"Anyone want an aperitif?" Ryan asked. It tickled him the way his mother and his sister had taken immediately to Ashley. But then, he had taken to her too.

At the dinner table Angelina watched as Ashley devoured her cooking. She almost wanted to shout with joy, and when Ashley returned for a second helping of tiramisu she almost cried. "Do you cook?" she asked her guest.

"Not really. I've never had to," Ashley admitted. "Mrs. Byrnes does the cooking at Kimbrough Hall. I'm such a workaholic. But I would love your recipe for the chicken and artichokes. Mrs. B. is always looking for new dishes to make."

"I will write it out for you," Angelina said. "But then one day I will come and teach you how to make it. Work is good, but you should also know how to cook a few dishes. What if your Mrs. Byrnes became ill?"

"She'd do what we all do, Ma," Frankie said. "She'd order out."

"Not in Egret Pointe." Ashley laughed. "We have one pizzeria, and he just does pizza and heroes. But we do have some nice restaurants."

The evening continued in pleasant fashion. Ashley and Frankie began to talk about decorating the master suite in the house.

"I've got to run it by my boss," Frankie said apologetically. "She's a real Tartar about any of her decorators doing private work. She's scared one of them might walk off with her client list. I hope you don't mind."

"Evelyn Claire was a friend of my mother's," Ashley replied. "They were in school together. St. Hilary's. Tell her I'm Rosemary Leigh Kimbrough's daughter."

"A Catholic school?" Angelina put in.

"No. Anglican nuns," Ashley replied.

"Your children…?" Angelina said.

"I don't think Ryan and I have gotten that far yet, Lina," Ashley said candidly.


***

Later, as she and Ryan drove back to Egret Pointe, he apologized to her. "I haven't told Ma yet that the marriage is just a temporary one. She thinks it's going to be like her and my dad: two people marrying for practical reasons and making a go of it."

"Don't tell her," Ashley said. "It would upset her, and I don't want to do that."

"She liked you."

"I liked her, and I really like your sister Frankie. She and I are going to be good friends no matter what," Ashley told him. "You're staying the rest of the weekend, aren't you?" she asked as they pulled off the parkway. "I want to discuss several things with you. The wedding. Our bedroom. I want to do announcements to be sent out afterward. Personally, I like the old-fashioned black script on white or cream paper, but I'd like your opinion also. You've got a stake in this too. And I'll need a list of people you want to receive the announcement. I'd like to get the busywork out of the way so we can relax over the next few weeks, if that's okay with you."