learning the routine and waiting for his chance. He'd know that she was alone in the house and asleep, so he'd broken in to rob Nathan blind.
With a hand to her heart, she glanced back toward her bed. She could call the police, then crawl under the covers. It sounded like a wonderful idea. Even as she took the first tiptoeing step back, she stopped.
But what if she hadn't really heard anything other than the house settling? If Nathan wasn't already fed up, he certainly would be if he got home from
Taking a deep breath, Jackie decided to creep down and make sure there was a good reason to panic.
She descended the stairs slowly, keeping her back to the wall. Still no sound. The house was absolutely dark and absolutely silent. A burglar had to make some noise when he stole the family silver.
Probably just your imagination, she told herself as she reached the lower landing. In the dark she strained her ears but still heard nothing. As her heartbeat slowed to normal she decided to take one quick check around the house, knowing her imagination would play havoc if she went back to bed without satisfying her curiosity.
She began to whistle, just under her breath, as she moved from room to room. There was no one there, of course, but if there was, Jackie preferred to have them know she was on her way. Jackie's imagination, according to her mother, had always been bizarre.
By the time she'd wound through the living room, passed by Nathan's office and the powder room and gone into the dining area, she'd imagined not just your everyday intruder but a gang of psychotic thugs who'd recently escaped from a maximum-security prison in Kentucky. Determined to beat her own wayward fantasies, she stepped into the kitchen. Every light in the house blazed behind her. Now, as she reached for the switch in the kitchen, she heard a shuffle of footsteps.
Her fingers froze, but her mind didn't. They were in the sun room-at least six of them by now. One of them had a scar running from his temple to his jaw-line and had been serving time for bludgeoning senior citizens in their sleep. She took a step back, thinking of the phone in her room behind a locked door when the footsteps came closer.
Too late, her mind flashed. Going with impulse and desperation, she grabbed the closest weapon-the souffle pan. Swinging it above her head, she prepared to defend herself.
When Nathan stepped into the room, dressed only in his briefs, it was a toss-up as to who was the more surprised. He jerked back, finding himself ridiculously embarrassed as Jackie let out a scream and dropped the pan. It landed with a resounding clatter just before she doubled over with hysterical giggles.
'What the hell are you doing, sneaking around the house?' If it wouldn't have made him feel that much more foolish, Nathan would have grabbed a dishcloth for cover.
Jackie slammed both hands over her mouth as she gasped and choked. 'I thought you were six men with homicidal intentions. One of you had a scar, and the little one had a face like a weasel.'
'So naturally you came down to beat us all off with a souffle pan.'
'Not exactly.' Still giggling, she propped herself against the counter. 'I'm sorry, I always laugh when I'm terrified.'
'Who doesn't?'
'It was just that I thought there was a burglar, then I convinced myself there wasn't, and then…' She began to hiccup. 'Then I thought you were this gang from Kentucky led by a man named Bubba. I need some water.' Grabbing a glass, Jackie filled it to the rim while Nathan tried to follow.
'You've obviously picked the right field at last, Jack. With an imagination like that, you'll make a million.'
'Thanks.' Picking up the glass, she drank while running her finger in circles over the bottom.
'What the hell are you doing now?'
'Getting rid of the hiccups. Surefire.' She set the glass down and waited. 'See? All clear. Now it's your turn. What were you doing sneaking around the house in the dark in your underwear?'
'It's my house.'
'Right you are. And it's very nice underwear, too. Sorry I scared you.'
'You didn't scare me.' Finding his temper once more on a short fuse, he bent down and scooped up the pan. 'I was about to take a spa and decided I wanted a drink.'
'Oh. Well, that explains that.' Jackie pressed her lips together. It wouldn't do to start giggling again. 'Did you have a nice time?'
'What? Yes, fine.' This was a hell of a time, Nathan decided, to notice that she was wearing nothing but an oversize T-shirt with a faded picture of Mozart on the front. With care and effort, he kept his eyes on her face, but it didn't help very much. 'I don't want to keep you up.'
'Oh, that's okay. I'll fix you a drink.'
'I can do it.' He had his hand on her wrist before she could open the cupboard.
'No need to be cranky. I said I was sorry.'
'I'm not cranky. Go to bed, Jack.'
'I'm bothering you, aren't I?' she murmured as she turned to face him. With her free hand, she reached up to touch his cheek. 'That's nice.'
'Yes, you're bothering me, and it's not particularly nice.' Her face was scrubbed free of cosmetics, but her scent still lingered. 'Now go to bed.'
'Want to come with me?'
His eyes narrowed at the smile in hers. 'You're going to push too far.'
'It was only a suggestion.' She felt a wave of tenderness as she thought of how he would view his position and what was happening between them. An honorable man who thought his intentions were dishonorable. 'Nathan, is it so hard for you to understand that I love you and want to make love with you?'
He didn't want it to make sense, couldn't allow it to make sense. 'What's hard for me to understand and impossible for me to believe is that anyone could consider themselves in love after a matter of days. Things don't work that easily, Jack.'
'Sometimes they do. Look at Romeo and Juliet. No, that's a bad example when you think of how things worked out.' Fascinated by his mouth, warmed by the memory of how it felt on hers, she traced it with her fingertip. 'Sorry, I guess I can't think of a good example right now because I'm thinking about you.'
His stomach wound itself into a tight knot. 'If you're trying to make this difficult, you're succeeding.'
'Impossible was the idea, but I'll settle for difficult.' She shifted closer. Their thighs brushed. Her eyelids lowered. 'Kiss me, Nathan. Even my imagination falls short of what it's like when you do.'
He swore at her, or tried to, but his mouth was already against hers. Each time it was a little sweeter, a little sharper, a little more difficult to forget. He was losing, and he knew it. Once he gave in to his own needs, he wasn't sure he'd be able to pull back. Nor did he know precisely what he would find himself trapped in.
She was a drug to a man who had always been obsessively clear-minded, a slide down a cliff to one who had always been firmly sure-footed.
And she was naked beneath that loose shirt. Soft and naked and already warm for him. He found himself reaching, testing, taking, even as warning bells rang inside his head.
DANGER. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.
His own risk. He'd always carefully calculated the risk, the odds, the degrees and angles, before he took the first step. Her body seemed to have been molded for his hands, for his pleasure, for his needs. There was no way to calculate this, or her, or what happened every time they touched each other.
It was so easy, so mindlessly easy, to take the next step. Blindly, recklessly. She was murmuring his name as her hands glided up his back, then down to his hips. He could feel every curve and angle of her body as his hands moved over and under the thin cotton. How could it be so familiar yet so fresh, so comforting yet so unnerving?
He wanted to scoop her up, to wallow in her, to lose himself. It would have been so easy. Her body was poised against his, ready, waiting, eager. And the heat, the heat he'd begun to recognize and expect, was weighing down on his brain. There was nothing and no one he'd ever wanted more.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a door slam and a key turn in a lock. In a last attempt at self- defense, he pulled her away.
'Hold it.'
Sighing, half dreaming, she opened her eyes. 'Hmmm?'
