And damn it, how annoying was that? He was a grown man-not some horny, hormonal teenager who couldn’t control his body. Yeah-a statement that had been perfectly true until he’d sat across from her. Looked into those warm brown eyes. Shared memories of the past. Of them naked, making love all afternoon on a rented boat. Until she’d touched him. Then in a heartbeat it was goodbye in-control-grown-man, hello hard-on. Definitely not good.

“I’m anxious to see the photos,” she said, “but the waitress is approaching with our food. I’d better wait till after we eat so I don’t get bacon cheeseburger on the pictures.”

Forcefully redirecting his thoughts to their lunch, he said, “Good idea. Nothing worse than cholesterol on your lingerie.” Oh, that’s brilliant-the perfect way to lose the hard-on. Think of her in that satin teddy.

As soon as the waitress left, Adam raised his burger in a toast, determined to eat his lunch then get the hell out of Dodge. “Here’s to old times.”

“And old friends,” she said with a smile, tapping the edge of her bun against his.

Adam took a bite, then groaned. If he had to suffer through a torturous lunch, at least it was with the best-tasting burger he’d ever eaten. He swallowed, then looked at Mallory, whose eyes were closed in ecstasy as she chewed, and he went perfectly still.

Damn. How did she manage to look so unbelievably sexy eating a freakin’ hamburger? He didn’t know, but he couldn’t deny he’d always found it incredibly arousing that she enjoyed food with such abandon.

After she swallowed, Mallory opened her eyes and grinned. “Wow. I feel like I need a cigarette-and I don’t even smoke. And that’s after just one bite.” She bit into an oversize onion ring and moaned. “Ooooh, baby. That is soooo good.” She reached out her hand. “Taste.”

Adam instantly recalled how she liked to share food. A crystal-clear memory of them, sharing a chocolate ice-cream cone, laughing, licking, sugary tongues dancing, chilled lips touching, slammed into his mind, skimming another layer of heat beneath his skin. After that ice cream, they’d parked on a dark, quiet street and made love in the backseat of his car.

With the memory fresh in his mind, and unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and took a bite of her offering. His lips inadvertently brushed against her fingertips, yet she appeared not to notice.

He wished like hell he hadn’t noticed.

This damn meal was growing more torturous by the minute. And he feared that if it didn’t end soon, she’d realize that he was all but enveloped in a cloud of lust.

While he chewed, he watched her pop the last bit into her mouth. “I’m going to want these bad boys every day,” she said, casting a wistful glance at her plate of onion rings. Then she turned her attention to her shake and took a long draw.

“How is it?” Adam asked, his gaze riveted on the way her full glossy lips surrounded the red-and-white-striped straw. He had to swallow to stifle a groan. When the hell had watching a woman drink become so erotic?

“I can sum it up in one word-ohmigod.”

Adam tasted his shake and nodded in agreement, hoping the icy slide down his throat would help cool his overheated body.

“So what are your plans for your future?” she asked.

Thank God-something to concentrate on other than her lips. And red-hot memories of those lips wrapped around him instead of that straw.

“For my immediate future, travel. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow for my long-awaited trek around Europe.”

“I remember you always wanted to go…” Her voice trailed off and he could clearly see she recalled he’d planned to go the summer after his college graduation. The summer she’d thrown all his plans into disarray. “You’ve never made it over there?”

“Nope. I’ll be gone three months. After that, I’m planning a safari to Africa. Australia, South America and Asia are also on my to-do list. Somewhere in there I’ll have to find a new place to live. My Manhattan lease is up in six months.”

“Any ideas?”

“Not Manhattan. My doctor suggested a hut on a beach somewhere. He recommended Hawaii.” He grinned. “Maybe I’ll move there and open a tiki bar.”

“Sounds…exciting. What about your future career plans?”

“From a financial standpoint I don’t need to decide right away, so I’m still mulling them over.” He took another icy pull of his shake then said, “And now that I’ve spilled all about me, what have you been doing for the past five years?”

“Same as you. Working. Building my client base.”

“You enjoy working in real estate?”

“I do. I like every aspect of it-buyers, sellers, the challenge of matching up the right client with the right house. The housing market on Long Island has almost always been on the upswing, but it’s really hopping right now. I’ve started dealing with some commercial properties, which is a great opportunity for me, and I’m preparing to earn my broker’s license.” After swallowing another bite of onion ring, she added, “Six months ago I bought my first house.”

He could see how pleased she was and he raised his shake in a toast. “Congratulations. I know how much you always wanted your own house. That stability.”

“Still do. I’m settled in, with a mortgage, a backyard, neighbors, block parties, the whole enchilada. It would take a nuclear blast to uproot me.”

“Is your mother still moving around the country?”

“After stints in Miami and Dallas, she moved back here and is playing for the Long Island Philharmonic. She has an apartment in Suffolk County. Who knows how long she’ll stay, but for now she’s content.”

“Glad to know your professional life is going so well.” His glance involuntarily flicked to the manila envelope she’d propped against her seat, and a bolt of pure lust sizzled through him at the thought of those sexy pictures. “Seems like your personal life is, too.”

Something flashed in her eyes. “Yup. Going great. How about you?”

His masculine pride wished he could say, Yeah, women are lined up ten deep outside my apartment, but he wasn’t about to lie to her. Still, now that he had time, that situation was about to change. Especially with his trip to Europe. He was a mere plane ride away from gorgeous women lounging on exotic beaches. Ibiza, the French Riviera. Oooh, yeah.

“Everything’s great. You know, doing the bachelor thing.”

“Anyone special?”

“Nope.”

“Hot date tonight?” she asked in a teasing voice.

“Nope.”

“C’mon. I bet there’re probably women lined up ten deep outside your door.”

He swallowed his laugh at how precisely her words had echoed his thoughts. Right from day one of their friendship it had been almost eerie how they’d so often been on the same wavelength. “Not quite ten deep,” he said with a smile. “My only date tonight is working at the studio to help Nick get caught up on paperwork.”

“Bachelor-man doing paperwork on a Saturday night?” She made an exaggerated show of looking him over. “Unless your character has taken a total dive south, you’re a fairly decent guy. Reasonably attractive. Heterosexual. Financially secure. Just the sort to attract a woman or two. So what’s the problem?”

“No problem. Just taking a night off from the usual bachelor frivolity to help out a friend.” Right. No problem. Except I haven’t been able to think of anyone except you for the past week.

And it suddenly occurred to him that she’d been in his thoughts for a lot longer than the past week. She’d always been there, lingering in the back of his mind, and he’d compared every woman who’d come after her with the standard she’d set. As of yet, no one had surpassed it. If he was brutally honest, no one had even come close.

Shaking off that disturbing realization, he said, “So tell me, how did you and…what’s his name?”

“Greg.”

“How’d you two meet?”

“He’s an attorney. We met at a house closing.”

“How long ago?”

“Eight months.”

“Is it serious?” He congratulated himself on his light tone, which was in such total contrast to the inexplicable tensing of his every muscle while he waited for her reply.

She tapped the corner of her mouth with her napkin, pushed her empty plate to the side, then reached for the manila envelope. “I’ll let you know after he sees these,” she said with a teasing wink.

What the hell kind of answer was that? Surely if they were serious, she’d have just said yes. Yet, he couldn’t see her posing for such sensual photos for a man she didn’t have deep feelings for. Still…she hadn’t said yes, they were serious.

A flicker of something that felt suspiciously like hope flared to life in his chest, a tiny flame that he could neither blow out nor ignore. What was he-insane? He didn’t want her to be available. If she was available, that would totally screw up his travel plans. Again.

Wouldn’t it?

Hell, yeah.

Hell, no.

Why would it? If she was available, they could have a fling. She is not a fling sort of woman, his inner voice said. Totally true. Mallory was a forever sort of woman.

Which would be crappy timing because he was not currently a forever sort of guy. No, sir. Not him. He was footloose, worry free, Bachelor Number One, on his way to Europe for his dream vacation. She craved stability and for the next three months he’d be living out of a suitcase. Hell, in six months he wouldn’t have a place to live. For all he knew, he might very well be running a tiki bar in Hawaii. So yeah, it was good she had a boyfriend. Yup, sure was. So he just needed to put all these crazy thoughts out of his head. Now.

Forcing himself to remain silent so as not to bombard her with more questions about her relationship, Adam ate his last onion ring and watched her look over the proofs, noting the flush that crept up her face. He tried to recall the last time he’d seen a woman blush and realized it was exactly one week ago. While he’d taken Mallory’s pictures.