stubborn way, holding out his hand until she proved that he was wrong. Once she did, he would go. Ignoring the feeling of loss that washed over her, she told herself briskly that it would be for the best.
And what would it take? Three seconds? Five? Ten or fifteen, at the most. Fifteen seconds compared to hours of silent pressure? To a life turned upside down? As far as she was concerned, there was no contest. She could do anything for fifteen seconds-hold her breath, stand on her head, anything. Even kiss Slade and convince him that she didn't feel a thing.
Slade knew from the tilt of her chin that he had won. The first round, at least. She would come to him and try to make her body lie, but it wouldn't. Because it couldn't. He knew that from their first kiss.
'All right.' Carroll turned to face him, looking like a martyr being led to the lions. She stepped forward, clearly intending to give him a swift peck on the lips, faltering only when his hand reached out to grasp hers.
He stayed where he was, leaning against the counter, and brought her to him slowly, letting her feel his hunger. He slid his hands into the back pockets of her jeans and urged her closer. She was soft and warm and smelled of summer flowers.
The instant he touched her, Carroll knew she had made a mistake. She was tucked in the cradle of his parted legs, her body off balance and lying along his. He was hard and hot, and obviously not in a hurry. Her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder, and his big hands smoothed down her back and settled on her buttocks, pressing her closer.
'Slade-'
'Shh.'
'This isn't-'
'Yes, it is.'
His voice was deep, rumbling against her ear. The tip of her nose touched his neck, and he smelled of something spicy and clean and very male.
Her arms slid around him and she arched closer when his lips touched her earlobe. Shivering, she uttered a soft, throaty whimper. 'No.'
He chuckled. 'Umm.'
'I don't want this.'
'You've got it.'
'It's too complicated.'
'We'll make it simple.'
When he lowered his head, her mouth met his, willing and oh so sweet, tasting like honey. And her body didn't lie. It melted into his like sunshine, gifting him with her own special brand of warmth.
When his fingertips skimmed her hair, she sighed. He was a big man who knew how to be gentle. Quiet and intense, Slade was a man who touched emotions in her she hadn't even known she had, made her blood roar like a freight train and sparkle like wine. Slade was a man who-
Startled, she dropped her hands to his chest and pushed. He lifted his head and slowly, reluctantly, let her go. She stepped back and took a deep breath, finishing her last thought. Slade was a man who would be big trouble in her life.
Gray eyes gleamed down at her. 'Well, what's the verdict? Friend, acquaintance, significant other-or husband material?'
'Don't be cute,' she said coolly.
He waited.
'All right! So I was wrong.'
'Ah.'
'In a way.'
'What way?'
'We're more than neighbors.'
He smiled.
'But that's as far as it goes.'
He waited again.
'I told you before. I like my life just the way it is. Peaceful, uncomplicated-'
'Dull?'
'Maybe.' She stared at him. 'But that's the way I like it. Darn it, Slade, we're no good for each other.'
'Translated, that means I'm no good for you.' He folded his arms across his chest, his level gaze a challenge.
She didn't flinch. 'Exactly.'
'How do you know?'
'I don't,' she admitted. 'Not for sure. But I'm not going to take the risk. Go back to your work, Slade. Help Kris, if that's what you want to do, but leave me alone.'
He reached out and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. 'I'm going to be around for a long time. You might as well get used to me.'
Chapter Nine
Slade left Carroll standing in the middle of the kitchen and walked across the pine-studded ground to his house. He looked up at the black sky and counted the few stars visible between the scudding clouds, then buttoned his shearling jacket. After opening the door and walking straight through to the office, he dropped into his chair and stared at the blank computer screen.
He didn't know if forcing a confrontation had been the worst idea he'd ever had, or the best. And if Carroll's stunned expression was any indication, he might not find out for quite some time. She hadn't looked like she was in the mood to make any rash decisions. Which was precisely as it should be, he reflected grimly. This was something she had to decide for herself. Because as much as he loved her, ached for her, there was one thing he couldn't do for her.
He couldn't give her trust.
And nothing would work for them without it. Especially not marriage. They both knew that. She believed that most men were as faithless as her father and that blockhead Jeffrey, and there wasn't a thing he could do to change her mind. He couldn't force her to believe in him. He didn't want her to marry him, then wake up each morning and look at him with eyes that wondered if he would be gone before nightfall. He shuddered. No, he could handle a lot, but not that.
Determination narrowed his eyes. Carroll didn't know it, but she needed him as much as he needed her. She needed to know that a man could love her the way he did, that he would still be around when the time came to celebrate their fiftieth anniversary. Somehow, he would convince her. He would give her a little more time if that was what she needed. Or if she needed prodding, he would prod.
Absently, he turned on the computer and reached for the disk. Once he finished the design and delivered it to his partner to begin the bidding process, then figured out what to do about Kris, he would have all the time in the world.
Kris. The old man was as much trouble as his granddaughter. More. Now he even had the U.S. Marines worrying about him. Slade leaned back and stared blankly at the toes of his shoes. The U.S. Marines. Interesting.
The screen suddenly came alive with colorful graphics. Slade ignored them, following the tenuous trail of what had to be the craziest idea he'd ever had.
The U.S. Marines?
Early the next morning, long before the rest of the family was stirring, Carroll took her cup of tea into the living room and stared out the window. That she happened to be looking in the direction of Slade's house was sheer coincidence, she told herself. It had nothing at all to do with the man himself. She always watched the sun spread its golden blanket over the hills beyond his place. The fact that there was no sun this morning, that the sky was a
