Just as she pulled her hose to her waist and shoved her feet into the shoes, the door swung open and Nick entered the small room. She had trouble looking at him as he held her coat open for her. “I need to tell Lisa I’m leaving.”

“I told her you got sick and I’m taking you home.”

“Did she believe you?” She glanced up quickly, then shoved her arms into her wool coat.

“Narcisa saw you run out of the dining room and told everyone you looked like death.”

“Gee, maybe I should thank her.”

They left out a side door, and white downy snow drifted from the black sky and settled on their hair and shoulders. A new layer slid inside Delaney’s pumps as she made her way across the parking lot toward Nick’s Jeep. Her feet slipped from beneath her, and she would have fallen on her behind if he hadn’t reached out and grabbed her upper arm. His grasp tightened as they walked across the slick ground, but neither of them spoke, the only sound the crunch of snow beneath the soles of their shoes.

He helped her into the Jeep, but didn’t wait for the engine to warm before he shoved the four-wheel drive into gear and headed away from the Lake Shore. The inside of the Jeep was pitched in darkness and smelled of leather seats and Nick. He stopped at the corner of Chipmunk and Main and reached for her, practically pulling her into his lap. The tips of his fingers touched her cheek as he looked down into her face. Then slowly his head lowered and he pressed his mouth to hers. He kissed her once, twice, and stayed the third time to leave a soft lingering kiss on her lips.

He pulled back and whispered, “Buckle your seatbelt.” The wide tires spun until the knobby tread found traction, and cool air blasted Delaney’s warm cheeks from the heater vent. She buried her chin in the collar of her coat and cast a sideways glance at him. The dash light cast his face and hands in a green glow. Melted snow glistened like tiny emeralds in his black hair and on the shoulders of his tuxedo jacket. A street lamp illuminated the inside of the Jeep for several seconds as he blew past her salon.

“You missed the turn to my apartment.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Aren’t you taking me home?”

“Yep. My home. Did you think we were finished?” He shifted into a lower gear and took a left along the east end of the lake. “We haven’t even begun.”

She turned in her seat and looked at him. “Begun doing what exactly?”

“What we did in that closet wasn’t near enough.”

The thought of his fully nude body pressed to hers wasn’t exactly abhorrent, in fact it turned her insides warm. As Nick had said earlier, the damage was done. Why not spend the night with a man who was very good at making her body come alive in ways she’d never known possible? She’d been on the wagon a long time and wasn’t likely to get a better offer in the foreseeable future. One night. One night she would probably regret, but she’d worry about that tomorrow. “Are you trying to tell me-in your own typically macho way-that you want to make love again?”

He glanced at her. “I’m not trying to tell you anything. I want you. You want me. Someone is going to end up wearing nothing but a satisfied smile on her lips.”

“I don’t know, Nick, I might talk afterward. Do you think you can handle it?”

“I can handle anything you can think up, and a few things you’ve probably never even thought of.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Sure, wild thing. I have four bedrooms. You can choose which one we use first.”

Nick didn’t scare her. She knew he wouldn’t force her to do anything against her will. Of course, around him, she seemed to pretty much abandon anything resembling a will of her own.

The Jeep slowed and turned into a wide driveway lined on both sides with Ponderosa and lodge pole pine. Out of the dense forest rose a huge house made of split log and lake rock. Its cathedral windows spilled panels of light on the freshly fallen snow. Nick reached for his visor and the middle of three garage doors opened. The four-wheel drive rolled between his Bayliner and Harley.

The inside of the house was just as impressive as the outside. Lots of exposed beams, muted colors, and natural fibers. Delaney stood in front of a wall of windows and looked outside onto the deck. It was still snowing, and the white flakes accumulated on the rail and landed in the Jacuzzi. Nick had taken her coat, and with the ceiling so high and the rooms so open, she was surprised she wasn’t cold.

“What do you think?”

She turned and watched him approach her from the kitchen. He’d taken off his jacket and his shoes. One more black stud had been removed from his pleated white shirt, and he’d rolled the sleeves up his forearms. The black suspenders lay flat against his wide chest. He handed her a Budweiser, then took a drink from his own. His eyes watched her over the bottle, and she got the feeling he cared about her answer more than he wanted her to know.

“It’s beautiful, but huge. Do you live here alone?”

He lowered the beer. “Of course. Who else?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a family of five.” She glanced up at the balcony which she presumed lead to those four bedrooms he’d mentioned. “Are you planning for a large family with lots of children someday?”

“I don’t plan to get married.”

His answer pleased her, but she didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like she cared if he wanted to spend his life with another woman, or kiss her, or make love to her, or overwhelm her with his touch.

“No kids, either… unless you’re pregnant.” He glanced at her stomach as if he could tell by looking. “When will you know for sure?”

“I already know I’m not.”

“I hope you’re right.” He moved to the window and looked out into the night. “I know single women are getting pregnant on purpose these days. Being illegitimate doesn’t have the stigma it used to have, but that doesn’t make it easy. I know what it’s like to grow up like that. I don’t want to do that to some poor kid.”

The Y of his suspenders lay against his back and up over his big shoulders. She remembered the times she’d seen his mother and Josu sitting in the gymnasium watching school plays and holiday programs. Henry and Gwen would have been there, too, somewhere. She’d never thought about what that must have been like for Nick. She set her bottle on a cherrywood coffee table and moved to him.

“You’re not like Henry. You wouldn’t deny your own child.” She wanted to slide her hands around his waist to his flat stomach and press her cheek against his spine, but she held back.

“Henry’s probably spinning in his grave.”

“He’s probably congratulating himself.”

“Why? He didn’t want us to-” Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, Nick. I forgot about the will. I guess you forgot, too.”

He turned to face her. “For a few crucial moments, it did slip my mind.”

She looked into his eyes. He didn’t appear all that upset. “I won’t tell anyone. I don’t want that property. I promise.”

“That’s up to you.” He brushed a stray piece of hair from her face and softly traced her ear with his fingertips. Then he took her hand and led her upstairs to his bedroom.

As they moved up the steps, she thought about Henry’s will and the repercussions of tonight. Nick didn’t strike her as the type of man who let anything slip his mind, especially not his multimillion dollar inheritance. He had to care for her as much as she feared she was beginning to care for him. He risked a lot to be with her, while she risked nothing but a little self-respect. And actually, when she thought of it, she didn’t feel dirty or used or regret anything. Not now-maybe she would in the morning.

Delaney stepped into a room with thick beige carpet and a set of closed French doors leading to an upper deck. There was a huge hardwood mission bed with pillows and comforters of striped sage green and beige. Keys were thrown on one dresser, and a newspaper lay unopened on the other. There wasn’t a flower printed on anything, no spots of lace or strings of fringe in sight. Not even on the bolsters. It was a man’s room. Elk antlers hung above the rock mantel. The bed was unmade, and a pair of Levi’s was thrown over a chair.

As he set their beer bottles on a nightstand, Delaney raised her hands to the black studs and worked them free until the shirt lay open to his waist. “It’s time I got to see you naked,” she said, then slid her palms up his warm skin. Her fingers combed through the fine hair growing in a dark line up his belly and across his chest. She pushed the white cotton and suspenders from his shoulders and down his arms.

He balled the shirt in one hand and tossed it to the floor. She ran her gaze over his taut skin, powerful chest, and flat brown nipples surrounded by dark hair. She swallowed and thought maybe she should check for drool. Only one word came to mind. “Wow,” she said and pressed her hand against his flat stomach. She ran her palm up his ribs and looked into his gray eyes. He watched her from beneath lowered lids as she stripped him to his BVDs. He was beautiful. His legs were long and thick with muscles. Her fingers traced the tattoo circling his biceps. She touched his chest and shoulders, and slid her hands over his back and rounded behind. When her examination moved south, he grabbed her wrist and took over. He slowly undressed her, then laid her on soft flannel sheets. His warm skin pressed the length of hers, and he took his time making love to her.

His touch was different from before. His hands lingered over her body, and he seduced her with stirring languid kisses. He teased her breasts with his hot mouth and slick tongue, and when he entered her, his thrusts were slow and controlled. He held her face between his palms and his gaze locked with hers, holding himself back as he drove her wild.