If I Were Your Woman
Donna Hill

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my agent Pattie Steele Perkins who always

has my back and to my editor Mavis Allen

who welcomed me with open arms.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 1

Stephanie Moore was nudged awake by the tantalizing aroma of hash browns, sizzling bacon, whipped eggs…and were those buttermilk biscuits she smelled? She squeezed her eyes tight and stretched, practically purring in the process. The night she’d spent with Tony drifted to her consciousness, and a wicked smile crept across her mouth.

“My mama always told me if a man could cook and satisfy a woman in bed he could keep a smile on her face forever.”

Stephanie’s eyes slid open. Tony stood in the arch of her bedroom door bare-chested, gorgeous and carrying a tray fit for a queen.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice still slick with sleep.

Tony strolled barefoot across the hardwood floor. The thin cotton pajama pants hanging low on his hips sent Stephanie’s pulse racing.

Humph, humph, humph. Nothing like a good-looking man who knew his way around a kitchen. Slowly she sat up. The soft peach-colored sheet dropped to her waist. Tony’s eyes darkened with appreciation.

“I don’t think your mama would imagine her baby boy doing some of the things you did to me last night to make me happy.”

He sat down on the side of the bed and set the tray on her lap, before leaning forward and capturing an exposed nipple in his mouth for a hot second. Stephanie drew in a sharp breath. Tony pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Then it’ll be our little secret.”

She grinned and scooped a forkful of hash browns into her mouth. Her eyes drifted closed in delight. “Hmm. Wonderful.”

“Great.” He jumped up and started for the bathroom.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

Tony stopped midway and tossed over his shoulder, “I, uh, have an early meeting. Thought I told you about it. New client.”

Stephanie frowned for a moment trying to recall the elusive conversation, but nothing came to mind. She shrugged it off. “Must have forgotten.”

He stepped into the adjoining master bath and turned on the shower full blast, then came back and stepped out of his pajama bottoms.

The food stuck in Stephanie’s throat for a moment. Damn, he was a handful—gorgeous from top to middle to bottom. He worked out regularly and it showed in the sculpted chest and arms, the six-pack that made her mouth water all covered in a smooth milk chocolate package. When they’d first met over a business lunch—while she was interviewing photographers to do the spa’s brochure—he’d worn his hair cut short. But over the past few months he’d let it grow out and wore it lightly twisted on the tips giving him a true avante-garde West Village look, typical of the artsy set.

“If you don’t step out of my range of vision you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

Tony grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned, gave her a quick eyeful, and returned to the bathroom.

Stephanie shook her head in amusement. She was happy, she realized, as she sipped her juice, savoring its taste and Tony’s thoughtfulness.

Tony was the first real relationship she’d had in years—a healthy one at least. The time she’d spent and wasted with her ex-lover and boss, Conrad Hendricks, was a disaster waiting to happen and it did in Armageddon proportions. A shiver of disgust crept along her spine. It was a part of her life she’d rather forget, but there were still loose ends that needed to be severed—if she could bring herself to do what was necessary.

She put her cup of juice down and picked up a piece of toast, chewing thoughtfully. Even being enveloped in Tony’s caring and bathed in happiness, she still found it hard to let go of the binds that tied her heart. Tony had talked about love. Yes, the dreaded L word. At the time she’d said something innocuous like “who wouldn’t love you?” But she’d never really answered him. He hadn’t brought it up again. And she wouldn’t dare.

Love. It didn’t figure into her life. Not really. She’d been in deep like. She’d even been in lust, but never in love. Truth was, she wasn’t sure if she knew how, or better still, if she was worthy of being loved.

She sighed heavily, lifted the tray from her lap and set it on the bedside table. Her experiences with men had been suspect at best. She’d always been too trusting, too giving, too naive time after time. There was never anything for her at the end of the rainbow except hurt and disappointment.

That’s why she wanted to take her time with Tony, and he was either along for the ride or not. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She was forty-five years old. The days of doing things without thinking them through were over. She’d paid a high price for her actions and had no intention of overdrawing on her account again.

“I’ll call you later this afternoon.”

Stephanie looked up and for an instant her misgivings disappeared. But only for an instant. “Okay. Call me on my cell. I’ll be at Pause most of the day. Terri is coming by around one.” She watched him buttoning his white shirt. Tony loved some white shirts and they looked so good against his skin.

“So you’re really gonna take on a partner?” He gave her a quick look while he fastened his belt.

She reached for her juice and took a long swallow before speaking. “Since the opening of Pause, I’ve been getting calls left and right to do PR campaigns. The spa has gotten really good press and it opened the doors for me. So if I’m going to run a business on my own I’m going to need help to do it right. No way will I be able to handle everything on my own. Terri has what it takes and I think we will make a great team.”

“You know I’m behind you one hundred percent. I want to see you fly, baby.” He crossed the room, leaned down, and looked into her eyes. His voice lowered to a gentle rumble. “Besides, I get totally turned on by women in charge.” He winked.

Stephanie laughed and whacked his brick-hard biceps. “You are too silly.”

“That’s what all the girls say.” His kiss was sweet and tender. Stephanie’s stomach did a little dance.

“Later,” she hummed against his mouth before he backed away.

He snatched up his heavy camera bag, draped the strap over his shoulder, and strode out.

Stephanie touched her lips with the tip of her fingers and closed her eyes. Yes, it would be easy to let herself love Anthony Dixon—when she was ready. When would that be? It was a question that would remain unanswered, at least for now.

She hadn’t realized that she’d dozed off until the ringing phone stirred her awake. She blinked several times in confusion before sitting up and reaching blindly for the phone on the nightstand.

“Hello?”

“Stephanie Moore?”

Must be a telemarketer, she thought through the cobwebs of sleep. “I don’t want any—”

“This is Marilyn Hendricks, Conrad’s wife.”

Stephanie was wide awake now. She sat up in bed. “I told you not to call here again. I have a restraining order—”

“I don’t give a damn what you have. You ruined my life and you’re not going to get away with it.”

“We have nothing to talk about, Mrs. Hendricks. I didn’t ruin your life, your husband did.”

Marilyn laughed in that manic way loonies do in the movies. Stephanie shuddered.

“If you thought for a minute that I was going to let your affair with my husband, the father of my children, slide by without a fight—think again.”

“I don’t want your husband. I told you and I told him as much. Don’t call—”

“If you think this is over, you are sadly mistaken,” she said, her voice suddenly dropping to an eerie monotone.

The dial tone suddenly hummed in Stephanie’s ear. Stunned, she slowly hung up the phone, staring at it as if the instrument were the true offender.

“Crazy bitch,” she muttered, then vigorously rubbed the goose bumps that swiftly rose along her arms like an attack of hives.

She pushed up from the bed and marched across her bedroom floor, uttering a string of expletives all directed at Mrs. Conrad Hendricks.

Stephanie had never met the woman and Conrad never brought her to any company events, which at the time was fine with Stephanie. She was pretty sure she would have been hard-pressed to pull off an innocent act while chatting with the woman whose husband she was sleeping with.

She’d seen pictures of Marilyn. An average-looking white girl: big boobs, blond and blue-eyed, rosy cheeks and a toothy grin. She looked like she could easily play in a commercial for shampoo or something. Not overly pretty but good-looking enough.

Stephanie went into the bath for a long hot shower, determined to wash all thoughts of Marilyn and her husband out of her system.

It was a little past noon when Stephanie arrived at Pause for Men. The 125th Street four-story brownstone was innocuous enough from the outside, but the inside was a masterpiece. The ground floor housed reception and registration along with a cozy health food café, an exercise room, and backyard dining when the weather was nice. On the parlor floor was the weight room and treadmills, complete with personal trainers. The third floor held several lounge rooms with soft music piped in—a great place to relax and chat. The top floor was a full apartment, which Ellie, one of the four coowners, occupied since leaving her philandering husband of twenty-five years. The basement level held the steam and massage rooms, as well as a Jacuzzi and the Pause office.

Every time Stephanie walked into Pause she was overwhelmed by what four friends had accomplished after a few drinks and a dream. Even in the middle of the workweek, the exclusive spa for men only was busy. After less than a year in business they already had a waiting list.

Drew Hawkins, the security guard they’d recently hired, was at the door. His presence immediately brought to mind why they’d had to hire him in the first place—Conrad Hendricks.

Stephanie tugged in a breath. “Hey, Drew. How’s it going?” She forced a smile.

“Busy as usual, but quiet.”

“Uh, no uninvited guests?” Her gaze darted around the space, then settled back on Drew.

“Nope.” His brow crinkled. “You okay? Everything cool?”

“Yeah. Sure.” She started to walk off, then changed her mind. She looked up at him. “Listen, if…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

He touched her upper arm. “Don’t worry about anything, Ms. Moore. Nobody is coming past me who’s not supposed to.”

She pressed her lips into a tight smile. “Thanks.” She gave a short bob of her head to punctuate her appreciation, then headed to the front desk. An instant before she arrived, a hand clasped her shoulder and she yelped in fright. She spun around only to come face-to-face with Barbara.

“Relax, girl. What has you all wound up?”

Stephanie pressed her hand to her chest and shook her head at her own foolishness. “Sorry. You startled me, that’s all.”

Barbara pursed her lips. “You sure that’s all it is?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” She took a moment and actually looked at Barbara. “You changed your hair!”

Barbara grinned like she’d won something and did a slow pirouette. “You like it?”

“Love it, very becoming. The short look is definitely in and it does wonders for you.”

“Why, thank you, my dear.”

Barbara Allen was the mastermind behind Pause for Men, but more important, she was the voice of reason for the quartet of friends.

Stephanie put her leather briefcase on top of the registration desk and leaned her hip against it. She folded her arms. “And what does Wil think about this new look?”

Barbara scrunched up her nose. “He hasn’t seen it yet.” She lowered her voice. “Just had it done this morning. You think he’ll like it?”

“Well, if he doesn’t you can always buy some hair until it grows back.”

Barbara tossed her head back and laughed. “You got that right.” She slowly sobered. “We really need to have a girls’ night. She added with a chuckle, “So much has been going on, between broken engagements, divorces, new men, old men, we need to catch up. We haven’t had a night for just us since we all got back from our romantic getaways. And this place keeps us all so busy.”

“You know, you’re absolutely right. We do need some ‘we’time. How about this weekend?”

“Fine with me. I’ll check with Ann Marie and Elizabeth.”

“Would you mind if I invited Terri to join us?”

“It’s okay by me. What’s one more plate?”

“Great. As a matter of fact, she’s meeting me here today around one. I’ll mention it to her.”

“Okay, well, let me get busy. I took a half day from the hospital. One of my regular clients can’t make it in the evenings. So I told him I’d squeeze him in during the lunch hour. He should be here any minute.”

“Barbara, when are you going to quit your job? You’re killing yourself running back and forth like this.”

Barbara heaved a sigh. “I know, girl, I know. But to tell you the truth, I’m still in shock about the spa. Some days I wake up and can’t believe we actually did it and that it’s making money. I guess there is that old-school part of me that firmly believes never to put all my eggs in one basket. My job at the hospital is secure. But even though I hit fifty, I’m too young to retire and get my full pension. Anyway, I love what I do. I like my coworkers.” She shrugged. “So I guess I’ll do both for as long as I can.”

“Hmm, that makes sense especially about the retirement part and wanting to ensure your future.” She looked into Barbara’s all-wise eyes. “That’s why it’s so important for me to make my own business work. I want that same kind of security, ya know.” Her eyes zipped around the room.

“I totally understand, sis. And we’re behind you. So don’t even worry about it. How is everything working out?”

“Well, once Terri and I work out the terms of our partnership we can get busy.” She pulled in a breath and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I have several clients pending and of course we still have the ‘Pause Man’ campaign.”

Barbara tilted her head to the right side. “Are you sure something isn’t bothering you, Steph? You seem edgy.”

“No, really, I’m fine.” It was bad enough that the reason why they had to hire security for the spa was that Conrad decided to show up there and they didn’t want any trouble. The last thing she needed the girls to know was that she was still being harassed, maybe threatened by his wife now. She told them weeks ago that she was going to have her number changed. But she hadn’t gotten around to it. She’d figured that once they were served with the restraining order, her harassing phone calls and Conrad’s impromptu visits would stop. She’d stayed at Tony’s place for a few weeks and had only recently started staying back at her own apartment.

“Well, for the record, I don’t believe you. So if and when you want to talk, I’m ready to listen.” She gave her a smile and a pat on the shoulder before walking off toward the massage rooms on the lower level.

Stephanie took a moment to pull herself together, grabbed her briefcase from on top of the registration desk, and walked toward the office to prepare for her meeting with Terri.

When she opened the office door she was surprised to find Ann Marie sitting behind the desk on the phone. Her back was to the door, but she spun the swivel chair around to face Stephanie. She gave her a smile and a thumbs-up signal.

Stephanie angled her head in question, then eased the door closed and took a seat opposite Ann Marie.

Ann Marie flashed a self-satisfied grin on her cherub face when she finished with her call. “Well, you can t’ank me now or you can t’ank me lata.”

“What exactly am I thanking you for?”

“I used all me skills and contacts and found you an office for your business for cheap!” She grinned triumphantly.

“An office?” Her stomach muscles knotted. On any other day it would have been fabulous news.

“Yes, chile, an office. You can’t run a real business in this tiny box. How’re you going to entertain your big-time clients?”

Ann Marie had been instrumental in getting Stephanie’s business license and supporting her dream of starting her own PR company after she’d quit her job at H. L. Reuben. Of all the girls, it was Ann Marie who surprised her most when she’d come to her aid and encouraged her to step out on faith. Over the years she and Ann Marie had been like oil and water.

At times she thought it was simply Ann Marie’s feisty Jamaican roots that rubbed her the wrong way. But Ann Marie had changed, she’d mellowed, the bristle around her edges had softened. As a result Stephanie lowered the barrier she’d kept between herself and Ann Marie and they’d finally become real girlfriends.

Stephanie tossed her head. Her shoulder-length weave fell into perfect waves to frame her face. She held up her hand. “Wait, you got me an office?”

“You goin’ deaf? That’s what me said, mon.” She sucked her teeth in mock annoyance.

Stephanie pushed out a breath. “Ann, I don’t know if I’m ready…for an office.” Her voice faded with each word.

Ann Marie frowned and leaned forward. “I thought you would be excited. Ya look like someone stole something from ya.”

Stephanie tried to play it off, but it was too much trouble. She glanced over her shoulder to be sure the door was closed. She drew her chair closer to the table, the wooden legs scraping across the floor.

“I got a call today.”

“From who?”

“Conrad’s wife.”

“Oh, damn.” She threw her hands up in the air. “What she wan’now? Guess law and order don’t mean not’ing to ’er.” She jumped up from her seat and began pacing, her high heels popping like bullets against the floor. She stopped in midstep and swung a look at Stephanie. “Well, what ’appened?”

“I mean she said the same crap she’s been saying except…”

“Except what?”

“I don’t know, Ann,” she said, sounding defeated. “It was different. Kinda scary. I haven’t been able to shake it all morning.” She visibly shuddered, then looked up at Ann Marie. “To tell you the truth—and not that I don’t appreciate your efforts, but I’d just feel safer—here for a while.”

Ann Marie pursed her lips and blew out a measured breath then slowly sat back down. “Did she threaten you?”

“Not anything like an ‘I’m gonna kill you’ kind of threat, but…she said it wasn’t over. The thing is it’s not so much what she said, but how she said it. It was creepy.”

“Did you tell Tony?”

She shook her head. “He’d already left for work. He had a meeting with a new client.”

“Listen, she can’t be crazy enough to really bother you. You have a restraining order against ’er. Call the police and let them know.”

“I want the whole thing to go away!” She slapped her palm down on the table. “Damn it.” She covered her face with her hands.

Ann Marie got up and came around to the other side of the table. She knelt down next to Stephanie. “It’s going to be okay. The office space can wait.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “You can’t let ’er get to you.”

“I know, I know.” She lifted her head toward the ceiling. “I’m just being silly. Probably PMS.”

Ann Marie pushed herself up to a standing position. “Yeah, that’s probably it.” She squeezed her shoulder.

There was a light knock on the door.

“Oh, that’s probably Terri,” Stephanie said, sniffing hard, then shaking her head. She drew in a breath and stood up. She went to the door and opened it. “Hi, Terri. Right on time.”

“Traffic as usual was murder. I was sure I was going to get here for the dinner rush.” She stepped in. “Ann Marie, good to see you again.”

“I’m always happy to see a woman who can come up with brilliant ideas to bring handsome men right to my doorstep.”

The women laughed. The Pause Man campaign had been such an overwhelming success they’d had to extend the deadline. The concept was that the Pause Man would actually represent the spa. He would have to be not only good to look at, but physically fit, nutrition oriented, and willing to be a spokesman, so he had to have personality as well. Terri had been able to get the backing of major sponsors as part of the prize package.

“I aim to please,” Terri said.

“I have an appointment to show a house in an hour. I better get moving,” Ann Marie said, slipping into her broker mode. “Take care, Terri.” She looked at Stephanie. “Don’t forget what I said.”

“I won’t.”

Ann Marie walked out.

Terri turned to Stephanie. “Everything okay? I feel like I walked in on something.”

“No, everything is fine. Just going over some spa stuff.”

Terri took off her coat and sat down. “So…let’s get the campaign stuff out of the way and talk business.”

Stephanie brightened. “Yes, let’s.”

“When are we going to see you again, Tony?” Leslie stood in the frame of her front door.

“I’ll try to get back out here next month, sis.”

“Next month! Tony…you gotta do better than this. Your daughter needs you. I’m tired of lying to her about where you are, why you can’t stay when you do decide to drop by. She’s just a little girl, Tony. It’s bad enough that she lost her mother. She may as well have lost you, too!”

“I’m doing the best I can,” he shot back.

Leslie looked at her brother with a mixture of love and fury.

“Your best isn’t good enough,” she said, her voice heavy with disappointment. She shut the door before he could respond.

Slowly Tony turned from the door and walked down the three steps to the paved walkway that led to the street. It was a two-to-three-hour drive back to the city from Connecticut. He generally used that time to decompress after spending the few stolen hours with his daughter, Joy. But it was getting harder, harder now that he was involved with Stephanie.

Before he met her it had been easy to move through his days, never having to explain the times he disappeared. Now he’d found himself lying. He didn’t like it. But what choice did he have? With Stephanie being the kind of woman she was and the sacrifices she’d made for her sister, Samantha, she would never understand. Never understand how a father could abandon his daughter because he couldn’t look at her without seeing that her very existence was the result of her mother’s death and it was all his fault.

Chapter 2

“So bring me up to speed on the campaign,” Stephanie began.

Terri opened a folder on top of the desk. “To date we have 460 entries. They cover the strata, which is great. I’ll spend the next two weeks doing the eliminations. I want to have the two finalists and a winner by Valentine’s Day. I think that would be a perfect time to make the media announcement.”

Stephanie nodded in agreement. “Sounds great. I know you could use some help, but we don’t want there to be any shouts of unfair if staff from the spa are involved in the judging.”

“Exactly. It’s not a problem. I can handle it. And what red-blooded woman wouldn’t want to look at pictures of good-looking men all day?”

“I hear that. So the campaign is under control. Next on the agenda is our business. As I mentioned in the beginning, when I did the campaign for the spa’s opening, we got mega media coverage and it brought a whole host of potential business knocking at my door. It would be great to reap all the benefits myself, though I know that would not only be stupid on my part but it would be business suicide.” She paused. “We both have strong PR backgrounds, but you have more strength in marketing. I, on the other hand, can make you believe the earth is really spinning in the opposite direction.”

Terri cracked up laughing. “That’s the move, girl.”

“So I figure that between the two of us, we can’t help but win. I have my business license. The business is in my name and if you’re willing to come on board, I’d be willing to make you a partner after a year of working together.” She’d thought about making a Terri a partner from the beginning, but she didn’t want to risk the chance that things wouldn’t work out and then get ugly between them.

Terri puckered her lips in thought. “I’ve already left my job since I’m seeing Michael on a regular basis now. I have plenty of money saved. So that’s not an issue.” She focused on Stephanie. “How about this? How about we work on projects together as long”—she raised a finger to make a point—“as I can still freelance? I get a commission from you for the things we do together, based on the value of the job, and at the end of the year we take a look at the partner thing and see how we feel.” She leaned back in her chair and waited.

She couldn’t think of a better offer if she’d come up with it herself. It was perfect, support without lifelong commitment. The best part was that with Terri still doing her own thing, there was no real need for an office—at least not now.

“Sounds more than fair to me. I can have a letter of agreement drafted for you to take a look at…say next week.”

“Not a problem.”

Stephanie leaned forward, bracing her forearms on the desk. “Not to get all up in your business, but how are things going with you and Michael?”

Michael Townsend was a partner at Sterns and Blac, a major player in the media game. According to the little that Terri had divulged, there were major no-nos with regard to relationships between staff members, particularly upper management and employees. Terri felt so strongly about pursuing her relationship with Michael that she’d recently resigned from her job to make it happen—after she’d won the annual competition—which was the whole Pause Man campaign.

Terri beamed. “Things are going great. Different but great. After we spent that weekend together during the holidays, it’s been full steam ahead. I’m happy, really happy. I do miss going into the office. But now my reward at the end of the day is a helluva lot better than just punching out!”

“I’m glad to hear it. I know how difficult it can be with on the job love affairs.” She glanced away.

“You have experience, I take it?”

“Yes, and I have nothing good to report,” she said, trying to make light of it. “But I’m glad things are working out for you.”

“If you ever want to talk about it…”

Stephanie forced a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. By the way, are you busy this weekend?”

“Hmm, nothing special. Why?”

“The girls are getting together for a long-overdue girls’ night over at Barbara’s house and we’d love for you to join us.”

Terri’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Wow. Thanks. Can I let you know before the end of the week?”

“Sure. Just give me a call.”

Terri nodded and began collecting her papers. “I will.” She stood, then reached for her coat. “I’ll keep you posted on how the eliminations are coming along.” She draped her coat over her arm.

Stephanie came from behind the desk. “I’ll walk you out.”

When they reached the main floor, Elizabeth was just stepping behind the front desk.

“Hey, Ellie, you remember Terri.”

“Of course. How are you? How’s the campaign going?”

“Things are going great. I was just telling Stephanie that I hope to have the finalists weeded out by the end of the month so that we can make a Valentine’s Day announcement.”

“That would be perfect. I’m excited to see who makes the cut. I told Ron he needs to enter, but he wouldn’t hear of it.” She laughed.

“Ron was our contractor when we were getting the spa together. He decided to fix a little more than hardwood floors and plumbing.” Stephanie winked at Elizabeth.

“Girl, you need to stop.” She giggled, then looked at Terri and lowered her voice. “But she’s right. And he makes sure all the parts are working on a regular basis.”

Stephanie shook her head in amusement. “Ellie, you are getting to be too much. Come on, Terri, before she tells us more than we need to know.”

Terri waved goodbye. “See you, Elizabeth, and don’t hurt that man!”

“I really like your friends,” Terri said as they approached the door.

“Yeah, they’re pretty special. So hopefully you can join us on Friday and get to know them.”

“I’ll certainly try.”

Drew opened the door for them and helped Terri into her coat. “Have a nice day.”

“Thank you. You do the same.” She turned to Stephanie. “I’ll call you.”

Stephanie watched for a moment as Terri got into her BMW and pulled off.

With that bit of business out of the way and nothing imminent to distract her, she was again faced with her own dilemma. She’d have to tell Tony and she knew immediately what his reaction was going to be. Go to the police. She heaved a sigh and walked back toward the office. Maybe it was just a onetime event. Marilyn had a moment of stupidity and that would be the end of it.

For now she’d leave it alone. But if that crazy woman contacted her again—it was on.

It was close to five by the time Tony got back into the city. He thought about going straight to the spa, sweeping Stephanie off her feet, and taking her to a romantic dinner. She’d left him two messages on his cell phone and he’d intentionally not returned her calls. His conscience was getting the best of him. He knew he was simply avoiding the inevitable—another lie. But the phone was certainly easier than looking her in the face with his latest fabricated story.

He tossed his camera bag onto the couch, rotated his stiff neck, and went to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He chugged it down as he went over in his head what he was going to tell Stephanie. They were supposed to be getting together tonight, but he knew he wasn’t up for it.

He pulled his cell phone from the clip on his belt and hit speed-dial. Stephanie answered on the second ring.

“There you are,” she said, her voice full of cheer. “I left you a couple of messages earlier. You must have been really busy.”

“Yeah, I was. I’m sorry.”

“So how did your meeting go?” She bent down and peered into the recesses of her refrigerator.

“Uh, it went fine. I’ll know for sure in a few days.”

“I’m sure you knocked ’em dead. Who was it anyway?”

“Oh, another corporate client. Needs a company brochure done. Wants shots of the interiors, staff, stuff like that.”

“Well, I don’t see how they wouldn’t hire you on the spot. You’re the best photographer this side of the Mississippi!” She giggled.

“You’re biased.”

“Could be.” She got an apple from the veggie tray and took a bite. “I’m starved. Are we going out or do you want me to fix us something?”

“That’s the other reason for my call. I know this is late notice, but I was hoping maybe we could make it tomorrow night. I’m really beat.”

Stephanie frowned. “Oh. Okay. Sure.” She waited a beat. “I guess that means you’re not coming by tonight either.”

“If you really want me to I can, but I wouldn’t be much good.” He feigned a yawn.

“You sound tired. Listen, it’s no big deal. Get some rest and we can get together tomorrow.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I know you will. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Are you going to be around?”

“I do have an appointment in the morning. After that I’ll be at the spa.”

“I’ll call you after lunch and we can decide what we want to do then.”

“Sounds good.”

He yawned again.

“I’m hanging up before you fall asleep on me.”

“I’m sorry. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Rest well.”

“Thanks.” He disconnected the call.

Tony stood there with the phone in his hand. He was going to have to tell her sooner or later about Joy. But when he did, he knew it would mean becoming something that he couldn’t—a father. He hadn’t accepted his role in five years and he didn’t think he would anytime soon.

Stephanie meandered into her bedroom, plopped down on her bed, and aimed the remote at the television. A stream of images flashed in front of her as she aimlessly surfed. She finally settled on a Lifetime episode, Presumed Innocent.

It was probably best that Tony hadn’t come by, she thought. She didn’t want to have to tell him about Marilyn’s phone call because without a doubt Tony would be a man and feel that he must fix it. And fix it would be calling the police.

It was Tony who’d finally convinced her to take out the restraining order in the first place. He’d even driven her to the courthouse.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized what a good guyTony Dixon was. He was caring, sexy as all hell, talented, funny, could outcook her with his eyes closed, and most of all he was honest. That’s what she appreciated the most.

She’d lived a life of deceit for two years with Conrad. She lied to herself, lied to her friends. No more. As a matter of fact, first thing tomorrow she was going to tell Tony what happened.

The scene on the television caught her attention.

It was Bonnie Bedilia facing her on-screen husband, Harrison Ford, as she calmly, dispassionately explained to him why she had no choice but to murder his mistress. She never thought that he would get blamed for it.

Stephanie felt a jolt and aimed the remote, finally landing on Home Shopping Network. She shook her head. She was being silly, totally overreacting. She glanced at the phone next to the bed, reached for it, and took it off the hook.

When her doorbell suddenly rang a half hour later, her already stiff spine nearly snapped in half. She scrambled from the bed and darted up front to the intercom. Her mind raced through a montage of scenarios—all of which ended with a showdown between her and Marilyn and her winding up on the eleven o’clock news.

Stephanie pressed Talk. “Who?”

“Why you not answering ya damned phone?”

She released a sigh of relief. She buzzed the lobby door. Moments later Ann Marie was standing at her front door with a bottle tucked under her arm.

“How do you know I’m not busy?” Stephanie challenged as Ann Marie, barely reaching Stephanie’s shoulder, brushed by her.

“If you were, you wouldn’t have answered your door either.” She winked at Stephanie, took off her coat, and muttered something about the growing cold outside, then proceeded to make herself comfortable on the couch. “So…did you tell him?”

Stephanie averted her gaze. “No. I would have…maybe…but he was too tired to come over tonight. I figured it could wait.”

“Hmm,” Ann Marie murmured. “No more calls?”

“No.”

“Good. I know you may not like this, but I spoke to Sterling about it.”

Sterling Chambers was the man who finally captured the tough heart of Ann Marie Dennis and forever wrenched her away from the memory of her ex-husband, Terrance Bishop.

Stephanie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t you keep anything secret from that man?”

Ann Marie grinned. “Only where I learned some of my bedroom tricks.” She winked.

“You are terrible.” She sat down. “Well, since you spilled the beans, what did your live-in attorney say?”

“’Im say a restraining order is only a piece of paper and if someone really wants to get to a person a piece of paper won’t stop them.”

Stephanie’s brows rose and fell. “Gee, that’s comforting,” she said, full of sarcasm.

“That’s why me stop by, won’ make sure you’re okay.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“’Im also say, when a piece of paper fail, boyfriends, big brothers, and fathers can make a difference.”

“That lets me out on all counts…except for the boyfriend part. But I don’t want Tony going around threatening anyone.”

“No brothers?”

“No. Just me and Samantha.”

“What about your dad? I never hear you talk about ’im.”

Stephanie drew herself up. “Nothing to talk about, really. He’s been gone so long that if he ran me over with a truck I wouldn’t know who he was.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s been a long time. He was never in my life.”

“It’s hard on boys not having their pops, but it’s hard on girls, too.” She smiled sadly. “Your pops is a girl’s first love. I know not having her pop around affected Raquel. For years I felt guilty about taking her away from Jamaica and her family there. But it was either save myself or turn my soul over to Terrance. I chose to save my soul.”

“I always wondered if the decisions I’d made about men and relationships had anything to do with not having a father around.”

Ann Marie shrugged. “Could be.”

“Well, I’d prefer not to travel down that particular memory lane. What’s in the bag?”

Ann Marie took out the bottle of Alize and put it ceremoniously on the center of the smoked-glass coffee table. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“Let me break out the glasses.”

They shared a couple of glasses of wine and chatted about inconsequential things and about getting together on Friday before Ann Marie announced that she needed to be getting home.

Stephanie walked her to the door. “Thanks, Ann.”

Ann Marie looked up at Stephanie. “For what?”

“For coming by, bringing wine, being a friend.”

Ann Marie waved her hand. “Oh, chile, please, I was in the neighborhood and Sterling only drinks cognac.”

Stephanie smiled, knowing the truth behind the words. Ann Marie was really a good person beneath her tough girl exterior.

“Tell him I said hello.”

Ann Marie waved and walked out. Stephanie slowly closed the door. With the impromptu visit from Ann, the two glasses of wine, and mindless girl talk, she found herself actually feeling relaxed for the first time since she woke up. Maybe she’d get a good night’s sleep after all.

She turned out the lights in the front of the apartment and walked off toward her bedroom.

A light snow had begun to fall. From the car parked out front, he watched the lights go out. He’d seen Ann Marie when she went in, watched her leave, and assumed that Stephanie was now alone. He knew he shouldn’t have come here. He had no right, not after everything that had happened. Stephanie had every right to hate him. All he wanted was a chance to make things right between them—when the time was right. He’d learned how to be patient.

Sighing heavily but resigned, he turned on the ignition and headlights, then drove off.

Chapter 3

“Please tell me that was the last guest for the day,” Elizabeth said to Carmen, the part-time receptionist. She plopped down on the stool next to Carmen behind the desk.

“Yes, Mrs. Lewis.”

“Oh, please,” Ellie said with a chuckle, “don’t call me Mrs. Lewis. It makes me feel so old.”

Carmen grinned, flashing incredible dimples. “I’ll keep that in mind. Do you want me to close up?”

“No, I’ll finish up. I’m meeting someone in about a half hour.”

“Okay. The day’s receipts from the café are tallied and in the safe. I must have taken at least a dozen calls about membership. I put the list in the pending file.”

Elizabeth blew out a breath. “And the beat goes on, as the Whispers would say.”

Carmen frowned in confusion.

Elizabeth waved her hand in dismissal. “Before your time. Go on home, get some rest. Looks like we’re going to have a bit of snow before the night is over. Maybe that will keep some of the fellas at home tomorrow.”

“Doubt it,” Carmen quipped. “This is the next best thing to a quick getaway for most of them. Besides, seeing a string of men hour after hour ain’t half-bad for a day’s work, ya know.”

“That’s what all the girls say.”

“Well, good night, Mrs…. I mean Ms. Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth or Ellie is fine.”

Carmen drew in a breath, picked up her purse and coat. “I’ll get it together. Promise.” She waved goodbye and headed for the door.

Elizabeth was exhausted. When she’d told the girls that she was willing to manage Pause, she didn’t imagine that it would be quite the booming success that it had become and all the work that it would entail. She was the only one of the quartet who actually worked at the spa full-time. Not to mention that she lived on the top floor. At times she felt that she lived and breathed Pause for Men. She was looking forward to getting away even if it was only to have dinner at her twin daughters’ restaurant.

She checked her watch. Ron would be there to pick her up in about an hour. She wanted to do a quick check of the premises and hopefully get a chance to freshen up before he arrived.

Elizabeth started in the basement, made sure all the machines were turned off and the used towels were in the bins for pickup by the laundry service in the morning. The café on the first floor was locked up tight, and the exercise rooms were in order. She wiped down the machines with disinfectant, then went upstairs to the lounge. Satisfied, she hurried upstairs to her top-floor apartment, took a quick shower, and changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater.

Looking at herself in the mirror she had to shake her head in amazement. A year ago, she wouldn’t have thought twice about putting on a pair of jeans to go out—at least no farther than the corner store. But since her emancipation from her twenty-five-year marriage to Matthew, a lot about her had changed. She owed it all to Ron. He introduced a side of her that she had buried under the guise of what she believed a wife should be: a good homemaker, mother, and dutiful wife. Her entire existence for more than two decades had been dedicated to her family and keeping a pristine home.

At times she missed the house that she had so lovingly created over the years. But her freedom was worth the loss.

She peered a bit closer toward the mirror, noticed some extra gray around the edges of her hair, and made a mental note to make a salon appointment. She applied her lipstick, just as her doorbell rang.

She walked to the front of the two-bedroom apartment and pressed the intercom, thankful once again that she’d listened to Ron and had it installed when they were renovating the building. It definitely cut down on the wear and tear of running up and down the stairs to answer the door or yelling out the window—a practice that she abhorred.

“Who?”

“Ron.”

She buzzed him in and went to get her purse from the bedroom. No matter how many times she heard his voice or looked at his face, she still got that little tingle in the pit of her stomach and her pulse would kick up a notch. Being with Ron Powers was like being a young girl in love again.

Moments later he was knocking on her front door.

“Come in. It’s open,” she called out as she came from the back of the apartment.

“Hey, baby.”

Her breath bunched into a knot in her throat. She suddenly felt shy and uncertain with him looking at her as if she were the appetizer before the main course.

Ron moved with power and ease across the floor. He tilted up her chin and softly kissed her lips. “Hmm, I’ve been waiting for that all day.”

“Have you?” she said in a whisper.

“Yeah, that and more. But we’ll work that out when we get back.” He kissed her again before moving away. “We better get going so we can get back before it really gets bad out there.”

“Okay, let me grab my coat.” She took her tan wool coat out of the closet and a chocolate colored scarf. “Ready.”

“Oh, I brought a friend of mine along. He’s down in the car. I hope you don’t mind,” he said as he closed the door behind them.

“No, not at all. Is he joining us for dinner?”

“Yeah. I felt kinda bad. He doesn’t have any family or anything.”

“A friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

The streets were coated in a layer of white, the flakes continuing to fall, the streetlights giving them an iridescent glow.

“The first snowfall is so beautiful.”

“This will be our first winter together,” Ron said. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I can’t wait to make love to you with the snow falling outside the window.” He nibbled her ear and she giggled.

“Behave in front of company,” she playfully warned as he opened the car door for her.

He darted around to the other side and hopped in. “Elizabeth, this is Ali Aziz. We go way back. He just moved up here from Atlanta last month and joined my construction crew. Best carpenter in the biz.” He chuckled and turned on the car.

Elizabeth twisted around in her seat. A hint of something familiar struck her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She supposed she was thrown off by the fact that he was older than she’d expected. A good-looking man, in the “I’ve seen the world” kind of way. Medium brown complexion, soft, almost sad eyes, sharp cheekbones that seemed to almost cut through his skin, full lips, and a broad nose. He was a big man. She could tell that much even though he was sitting down, and when he stretched his hand across the seat to shake hers, her fingers disappeared.

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“You too. Ron hasn’t stopped talking about you. I feel like I know you already,” he said in a barely discernible southern drawl.

Ron slowly pulled off and headed for Delectables, the health food restaurant owned by Elizabeth’s twin daughters, Dawne and Desiree.

By the time they arrived the wind had kicked up a notch, but the snow had stopped. They hurried inside and were enveloped in warmth and mouthwatering aromas.

Desiree came up to greet them. “Hey, Mom.” She kissed her cheek, then turned to Ron and gave him a quick hug. “Good to see you,” she said to him.

“This is my friend Ali Aziz. He works on the crew. Ali, this is one of the twins.” He chuckled. “I’m still working on telling them apart.”

Desiree stuck out her hand. “I’m Desiree Lewis. I’m the cute one. You’ll see when you meet my sister.” She stuck out her tongue at Ron.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ali said.

“I was hoping you would still make it,” Dawne said, walking up to the group. “Getting pretty bad out there.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m Dawne. I’m sure my sister told you she was the cute one, but that’s the lie she tells everyone.” She extended her hand to Ali.

He laughed. “Ali Aziz. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you work with Ron?” Dawne asked.

“Yes, started about a month ago.”

“Don’t let him work you to death,” Desiree said.

He jerked his head in Ron’s direction and smiled. “Tell him that.”

“You’re gonna give me a bad name, man. Let’s get settled before you have them thinking all kinds of awful things about me.”

“Sit anywhere. You guys are our last customers for the day. We were getting the menu prepared for tomorrow for the spa,” Dawne said.

Desiree went to lock the front door.

“Let me know when you’re ready to order,” Dawne said, then headed back to the kitchen.

They took a booth and sat down.

“How long have you two known each other?” Elizabeth asked.

Ron and Ali looked at each other as they mentally calculated the years.

“A long time,” they said in unison, then laughed.

“I met this guy when he was young,” Ron said, hooking his thumb toward Ali.

“We both were. You were no more than a kid at the time.”

“How did you meet?”

“At a Black Panther meeting,” Ron said.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened with interest. “Really? Ron told us all about his ‘revolution days.’” She leaned forward, not wanting to miss a word.

“I was heading up a local chapter, and this scrawny kid comes in—”

“See, this is how stories get distorted. I was nevah scrawny!”

They alternated in their storytelling, making light of some intense situations with the marches, the raids by police, and the tension of those days. It was all so fascinating that the meal and two hours had flown by.

“You have to come back again, Mr. Aziz,” Desiree was saying as she collected the plates. “It’s so rare that this generation actually gets to talk to people who were in the midst of the struggle and what it was really all about.”

“Thanks for the invitation. I definitely will. Your place is lovely and the food was really great. Although I’m a steak and potatoes man, I gotta give it to you ladies.”

“This is our pride and joy,” Dawne said, looking lovingly at her sister. “It was a struggle at first, especially opening up right across the street from a rib joint.” The sisters laughed. “But we hung in there and now we have a steady flow of regulars, not to mention the work that we get by providing the food for the spa. We’ve finally been able to hire some help.”

“Nothing like having a dream and finally seeing it come true,” Ali said, his voice suddenly melancholy. He shook his head as if to dispel something only he could see and forced a smile.

Ron looked at him for a moment, then stood and helped Elizabeth with her coat.

“I’ll drop you off, Ali, after the girls lock up, since I convinced you to leave your car.”

“Naw, I’m good. I can make it from here. Why don’t you two go on with your evening? I can stay.” He turned to the twins. “If you need any last-minute help, I can pitch in.”

“Sure. We could always use some help,” Dawne said.

“Thanks, Ali. I never feel comfortable with them locking up at night by themselves,” Elizabeth said.

“Not a problem. I’m happy to do it.”

Ron clapped him on the back. “Okay, take care of our girls and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure thing. And really nice meeting you, Elizabeth.”

“You too.”

Elizabeth kissed and hugged her daughters goodbye, then went out to meet the biting wind with Ron’s arm wrapped securely around her.

“I can’t wait to get you home,” Ron murmured. “It took all I had to concentrate on my food and conversation with you sitting right across from me looking like dessert. And, woman, every time you ran your tongue across your lips…” He tossed his head back and groaned deep in his throat.

“Ron, you’re crazy!”

“Crazy about you.” He pulled up in front of the building and turned to her. “You know that, don’t you?”

She swallowed and nodded her head, unsure of her voice.

“Good. Now come on so I can show you just how crazy I am.”

“Your friend is really nice,” she said as they went inside.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy. Got some bad breaks, but he kept it together.”

“Bad breaks? What do you mean?” She hung up her coat and took Ron’s from him.

“Got locked up on a bad break, spent years in jail, and lost his family as a result.”

“Jail? For what?”

“Murder.”

Chapter 4

Stephanie was up with the sun, and her first thought was of Tony. It was the first time in weeks that they hadn’t spent the night together, and she realized how much she missed waking up next to him in the morning.

She pulled herself out of bed, not sure if this new realization was a good thing or not. A part of her knew that getting that close to someone was not a good thing; you began to rely on them for your happiness, become emotionally attached. And she knew from experience that the only one you could truly rely on was yourself.

Besides, there wasn’t enough of her to go around. She had to be there for her sister, Samantha, and that took all the love and commitment she had.

She meandered into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then turned on the radio. Moments into one of her favorite songs by Kem, the DJ cut away to announce a severe snowstorm warning for the entire metropolitan area.

“Damn,” she muttered and went to the windows that faced the front. She opened the blinds onto a sea of white. Streets and cars were covered in at least two inches of snow and it was still coming down. She needed to get dressed and make a grocery store run in case she really did get snowed in.

She quickly got dressed, pulling out her heavy cream-colored pullover sweater and a pair of dark brown corduroy pants. It took her a few minutes of hunting around in the bottom of the coat closet to locate her boots. She grabbed a ski cap from the top shelf of the closet and put on her coat.

“Jeez, all this just to go to the store.” She got her purse and was checking for her wallet and her cell phone when she remembered that she hadn’t put her phone back on the hook from the night before. She made a quick dash back into her bedroom and hung up the phone. No sooner had she set it down than it rang in her hand. She let it ring. Just the thought that it might be Marilyn was something she wasn’t in the frame of mind to deal with. Since when did you become such a coward? She reached for the phone and snatched it up.

“Hello?”

“Steph, it’s me, Tony.”

She released a breath of relief. “Hey. Feeling better?”

“Uh, yeah. Listen, I feel really crappy about not getting over there last night. Have you looked outside?”

“I was on my way out the door to run to the store when the phone rang.” He didn’t need to know that she’d left it off the hook all night.

“Look, I’m going to get dressed and come over. I’ll bring some stuff with me. Great day to snuggle.”

She smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Okay?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

The one great thing about living in New York was that there was a store on practically every corner. A rather well-stocked supermarket was little more than a block away. However, it was slip and go the entire trek. Once she arrived it was clear that her neighbors had the same idea she did. The lines were long and shopping carts were piled high. She got what she needed, but the usual fifteen-minute jaunt took more than an hour.

By the time she inched her way back to her apartment building, the wind had kicked up and the snow swirled in great gusts. She lowered her head against the onslaught and hoped she didn’t fall flat on her big behind before she got in her door. She turned toward her building ready to conquer the slippery steps when she felt her feet slide from beneath her. Her brain shot into self-preservation mode. The hell with the bag: Save butt from hitting the ground. The bag flew out of her hands as she reached for the railing to the steps. She wasn’t going to make it. The bag plopped to the ground just as a strong pair of hands grabbed her beneath her arms.

“We almost lost ya,” the deep voice said from behind her.

She gripped the rail, drew in a quick breath, and gingerly turned around. Her knight’s face was partly shielded by a hood and a ski hat pulled low over his forehead. The whirling snow negated a better look. He bent down and picked up her bag.

“Thank you,” she finally managed to say.

He handed her the bag. “A little wet, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

“’Preciate it. That could have been ugly.” He was staring at her. Her pulse raced. Instinct urged her to run. Her eyes darted left, then right. They were the only people on the street. “Thanks again.”

He nodded and started off down the street. Her breathing began to return to normal. She turned and slowly walked up the stairs. Years of living in New York had truly jaded her. Instead of accepting a simple kindness she had him pegged as the next Jack the Ripper.

Once upstairs she got out of her wet clothes and put her groceries away, then put water on to boil for tea and took out the fixings for a pot of homemade chicken soup. It was the one thing she could actually fix without burning.

With her ingredients simmering, and the snow gently falling outside, her apartment took on a warm and cozy feeling. She went into her living room and turned on the CD player, then decided to call Elizabeth and check on things at the spa.

“You would think that folks would have stayed home today,” Elizabeth was saying. “But we have about twenty men here already. Unbelievable.”

“Ell, I know you don’t have far to go, but maybe you should close up early. How much staff is there?”

“Carmen is here and Barbara came in. We have one trainer and the clerk in the café. We can get by.”

“I still think you all should close early. You won’t get stuck but everyone else might.”

“True. Ron is outside shoveling now and Drew is helping, but it looks like a waste of time.”

“The last thing we need is someone falling.”

“You definitely have a point. I’ll talk to Barbara. It’s not getting better out there.”

“It was murder just getting to the store and back.”

“Speaking of murder.” She lowered her voice. “I met a murderer last night.”

“What? Are you losing it?”

“No. I’m serious,” she said in a hushed whisper. “I’ll tell you all about it on Friday at Barbara’s. He’s a friend of Ron’s. Look, I gotta go.”

Stephanie stood there with the phone in her hand, totally unable to process what Elizabeth said. She shook her head. Ellie was obviously overworked. She went to the stove to check on her chicken soup just as the doorbell rang.

She wiped her hands on a towel, fluffed her hair, and went to the door.

“Hey, baby. I would have used my key but…”

Stephanie reached out and grabbed a bag. “What did you do, buy out the whole store?”

Tony stomped his feet before coming inside. “Wanted to make sure we had everything just in case.”

Stephanie walked toward the kitchen. “Just in case of what—a nuclear disaster?” She chuckled.

“You just wait. You’ll be begging me for those goodies come tonight.”

Stephanie put the bag on the counter and took a peek inside. There was everything from snack foods to full-course meals already prepared. “You didn’t miss a thing.” She started unpacking.

“Told ya.” He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned down and kissed the back of her neck. “Did you miss me last night?”

She turned to face him and looked up into his eyes. “Just a little.” A grin played around her mouth.

“Oh, I see. I may have to stay away longer. So I can be appreciated when I return.”

“Think that will help?” She ran the tip of her finger across his lips. He captured it and held it there for a moment. She pulled it out slowly.

“I don’t want to find out,” he said slowly, then lowered his head and kissed her. He took his time, stroking her cheek with one hand, holding her close with the other.

Stephanie felt light. Her heart thumped against his chest. She moved closer. The strength and security of Tony’s nearness pushed her anxieties away. In his presence she felt as if she could deal with anything that life tossed at her.

“You really did miss me,” he said, easing back. He looked down into her eyes.

Stephanie glanced away, the instant of vulnerability broken. She shrugged. “A little.” She turned her back toward him and busied herself with unpacking the groceries.

“Why is it so hard for you to admit your feelings?”

“I do admit my feelings.”

“Maybe when it comes to a client or a new campaign or your friends or the spa, but not when it comes to me, Steph.” He stepped closer. “I know that you care. I can see it in your eyes. I feel it in your body when we make love, but you won’t let yourself admit it out loud. Maybe not even to yourself.”

She felt her body stiffen. Why couldn’t he just leave things the way they were? They got along fine, they enjoyed each other’s company, they were great in bed together. That should be enough.

“Okay. I give up. I’ll leave it alone. I can tell this isn’t something you want to discuss.” He wandered over to the other side of the room and sat down at the kitchen table. “Something smells good.”

“Chicken soup.”

“You’re kidding.”

She spun around to face him, hands on hips, a look of challenge gleaming in her brown eyes. “I beg your pardon.”

“Well, let’s be honest, Steph, finding your way around a kitchen isn’t one of your strong suits.” His right brow rose for emphasis.

She tossed a dish towel at him, which he snatched out of the air in midflight. “Very funny. I’m talented in other areas,” she said with a petulant grin.

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