Blame It On Paris

him.

Kelly took one look and started giving him that foot-tapping, hand-on-hip type of posture.

'What?' he said. 'I was totally, one hundred percent nice! You can ask him!'

She said nothing.

'I mean it, Kel, it's obvious he's a decent guy. He was embarrassed about Saturday. I tried to make him feel better.'

Kelly murmured. 'In a pig's eye.' But she kissed him. He'd been good as gold, maybe better, and yet he somehow got a kiss when he lied to her? And it was a good kiss.

When she leaned back and opened her eyes, she was smiling, their pelvises still glued together. 'Why would I bet a week's salary that he won't be back?'

'I have no idea. Since I was so nice to him. But I do think it's conceivable that this is the last time he's going to try seeing you alone the way he did today.' He added. 'That's just a guess, of course. I have no basis whatsoever to think that, really. I just-'

'We're on a front porch in the middle of a busy neighborhood, so quit being so damned cute. I can't seduce you here. And we both have to be back at work besides.'

'I was being cute, huh?'

'When you're not being a male chauvinist egomaniac, you can be a little cute.' she qualified.

'And you were thinking about seducing me, huh? Right out here in the open?'

'Would you quit sounding so delighted?' But just then, one of the workers yanked open the door with a question, effectively interrupting them as nothing else could have.

KELLY THOUGHT later that she should have known she was inviting trouble. It was the same-old, same-old with Will. They had fifty million things conspiring to keep them apart. His dad. Her dad. Both of their nosy, interfering families. In her case, an insane work schedule, complicated by trying to live in a house with a half dozen construction projects going on. And in Will's case, being swallowed by the magnitude of handling his father's business.

But somehow, when they managed even a few minutes together, they seemed to have fun anyway. They seemed to feel fierce, wild, wonderful desire anyway. They seemed to laugh anyway.

So it was extra frightening, when she heard stones hitting her window at four o'clock on Friday morning, that she wasn't even thrown. All right. She was a little thrown. Bleary-eyed, she crawled out of bed, grabbed her cell phone, punched in 9-1-1 and then peeked out the corner of the window to see what was going on.

And there was Will, standing in the dew-soaked grass. He was wearing a suit, as far as she could see in the dark-a serious going-to-work suit. And grinning up at her like a hyena.

She threw open the sash-no easy thing to do on the old windows in the upstairs bedroom-and leaned out. 'You're mad. Stark raving mad. And I'm having you committed.' First, though, she clicked off her phone.

'Can you come down and play?'

'Of course not. It's Friday morning. I get two more hours of sleep before I have to get up and work all day. Do you have anything against rest? Sleep?'

'This is important. And it includes breakfast.'

She sighed. ''Give me five.' She closed the window and got in gear-splashing water on her face, brushing her teeth, throwing on gray slacks and a pale blue top, hardly a great work or play outfit, but who could think at four in the morning? She was lucky she remembered shoes, and was still brushing her hair when she jogged outside.

'I don't talk this early, and for damn sure. I shouldn't be expected to be nice,' she warned him.

'I understand.'

'You'd better have a good reason for this.'

'I understand.'

'And I haven't even put on makeup, so don't be looking at me.'

'Yes, ma'am. I won't look.' He added hastily. 'Although you don't need makeup to enhance your extraordinary beauty, anyway.'

'I'm not receptive to malarkey this early in the morning, either.'

He made the childish gesture of zipping his lips, making her want to laugh, but she didn't. She held on to her cranky mood for at least four more minutes. Maybe five.

'What in God's name are you up to?' she demanded when he pulled up to the Notre Dame football stadium. A light rain had started up. which made the golden dome glisten bright and magical.

Will looked up at the rain, though, and muttered. 'Hell. This may not work out quite as planned.'

'In case no one ever mentioned this to you, the stadium's locked. You can't just walk in there at all hours.'

But somehow or other-Will wouldn't admit how, which made Kelly fret that the means might not be kosher-he produced a key. By the time he was maneuvering the lock, he was also carting a monster-sized box and an umbrella. Naturally she grabbed the umbrella. It was obvious he couldn't juggle everything at once.

'Okay,' he said. 'This was the plan. Remember when we were on the boat, and you wanted to seduce me in broad daylight?'

'It wasn't quite like that,' she defended.

'Close enough. And because I thought it was such an excellent idea. I thought I should enable you. I mean, if you want to get into this sin and fantasy thing, you should have a willing accomplice. It's the guy's job in a relationship to help the woman achieve her dreams. My sisters read that to me from a woman's magazine, so I know it must be true.' In the middle of that nonsense, he suddenly sighed and turned serious. 'Only damn, Kel. The forecast was for overcast skies, not rain.'

The stadium was…well, all theirs. The only times she'd been inside, the place had been packed for football games. The inner corridor was ghostly cool and dim, and once Will led her out to the stands-to the fifty-yard line, to be precise-the wide empty space seemed to hold all the echoes of exuberant yelling and happy screams and devoted fans. Will, however, looked more and more distraught.

'I checked the forecast an hour ago, and it was supposed to be cloudy this morning. Just cloudy. No rain. No rain. You know what?'

'What?'

'Maguire's has a box. But I didn't bring that key because I didn't think we'd need it. The whole point was to be out in the open air.'

Holy smokes times ten. While she held up the umbrella, he opened the massive box he'd been carting around. First he withdrew a navy-and-gold blanket, then French crepes packed in a heated container. Out came more treasures. A carafe of French coffee with gold-rimmed demitasses. A blue-and-gold flag. Sterling forks and white linen napkins. A vase with blue and gold carnations. The water had spilled out. but the flowers were still fresh, and certainly happy enough to sit in the rain.

She looked at Will as he withdrew all this stuff, all these details that he'd planned for her. the whole Notre Dame theme, all the French foods, all the elegant little touches…and felt her heart melt like chocolate in heat.

The rain sluiced down harder, no longer light, but she'd been inside, the place had been packed for football games. The inner corridor was ghostly cool and dim, and once Will led her out to the stands-to the fifty-yard line, to be precise-the wide empty space seemed to hold all the echoes of exuberant yelling and happy screams and devoted fans. Will, however, looked more and more distraught.

'I checked the forecast an hour ago, and it was supposed to be cloudy this morning. Just cloudy. No rain. No rain. You know what?'

'What?'

'Maguire's has a box. But I didn't bring that key because I didn't think we'd need it. The whole point was to be out in the open air.'

Holy smokes times ten. While she held up the umbrella, he opened the massive box he'd been carting around. First he withdrew a navy-and-gold blanket, then French crepes packed in a heated container. Out came more treasures. A carafe of French coffee with gold-rimmed demitasses. A blue-and-gold flag. Sterling forks and white linen napkins. A vase with blue and gold carnations. The water had spilled out. but the flowers were still fresh, and certainly happy enough to sit in the rain.

She looked at Will as he withdrew all this stuff, all these details that he'd planned for her. the whole Notre