Lucky wore nothing but an apron

The shoulder straps barely covered her breasts. Her fiery red hair framed her face in a riot of sexy curls. She’d brought a large metal spatula with her from the kitchen, and the way she held it seemed to indicate that if the need arose, she could use it for something other than turning food.

Colin’s throat tightened as she leaned against the doorjamb, causing one of the straps to move so that her nipple peeked out. He stared at her intently. “Come here.”

Her green eyes twinkled at him naughtily. “I would, but I’m afraid I might burn something.”

“Baby, the only thing burning is me sitting here looking at you looking like that.”

She slapped the spatula into her opposite palm, her gaze traveling in a leisurely way over his nude body where he sat on the bed. The action made him entertain all sorts of ideas about what she could do with the utensil.

“Over easy or sunny-side up?”

Colin allowed his mouth to curve into a slow, suggestive smile. “Any way I can get you.”

Dear Reader,

In our first SLEEPING WITH SECRETS title, Forbidden, you met Leah Dubois Burger and bad-boy-to-the-bone J. T. West. And their relationship was really, really hot! But if you thought that was intense, just wait until you feel the chemistry between Colin McKenna and Lucky Clayborn!

In Indecent, sexy psychologist Colin refuses to take on provocative Lucky as a patient, namely because he wants to have sex with her in the worst way…. Unfortunately, it’s also in a way that’s dangerous to his career. You see, this isn’t the first time he’s dealt with a patient’s desire, and that episode is the reason he now handles only group appointments. But all too easily Lucky turns the tables on him, making him feel as if he’s the one needing help. And with Lucky, he is….

Colin and Lucky’s story is so unlike anything we’ve written before. We hope it proves to be one of those one-sitting reads for you! We’d love to hear what you think. Write to us at P.O. Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, or at karayianni@aol.com. And be sure to visit us on the Web at www.BlazeAuthors.com and www.ToriCarrington.com.

Here’s wishing you love and hot, memorable reading,

Lori & Tony Karayianni

aka Tori Carrington

Indecent
Tori Carrington

www.millsandboon.co.uk

We wholeheartedly dedicate this book to Susan Till, who reads between the lines and knows what we want to say even when we don’t. Thanks for making us look so good!

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

Epilogue

1

GOING WITHOUT sex wasn’t Colin McKenna’s idea of a good time. Which meant he’d had a pretty lousy time of it for the past three months.

His athletic shoes clapped against the cement walkway paralleling the Maumee River, his cadence even, the sound of his breathing filling his ears. To his right, the sun was just beginning to break the horizon causing the temperature to rise on the clear June day. He’d run this route along the river ever since buying his downtown penthouse condo last year. But in the past three months the route had lengthened and lengthened along with his rising level of sexual frustration.

Another man might take things into hand, literally.

Colin preferred running.

His lungs began burning, protesting the pressure he was putting on them. He grudgingly slowed his paced then came to a stop, panting as he turned toward the sun’s rays and squinted out over the river to the East Side and International Park. He’d grown up here in Toledo, Ohio, though a long way from downtown in the suburb of Sylvania. But he hadn’t hesitated when a block of newly renovated condos had gone up for sale in an old department store building, putting him in the heart of the midsize city that was an intriguing mix of old and new.

He took several deep breaths, each slower than the one before, as he brought his pulse rate under control. As a psychiatrist, he knew the power of mind over body. It was of some interest, then, that his body was increasingly overruling his mind’s need for control.

He’d never paid much attention to the importance of sex in his life until he’d been falsely accused of indecent behavior by one of his patients three months ago. That was when his attorney had suggested he go without until the case was either dropped or settled in order to create a picture of himself as a model, upstanding citizen. Not that he hadn’t been that before, but he realized he had been a serial dater.

The case was also the reason why he no longer counseled patients one-on-one but rather took only group and couples sessions.

Three hours, a shower and two such therapy sessions later, Colin sat back in his office chair, listening as the married couple before him bickered about the price of their last meal out. Actually it didn’t matter what the topic was, the couple would argue about it. How they’d managed to keep from killing each other much less stay married for the past ten years was beyond him.

Give up and head for divorce court now, he wanted to say, but didn’t.

He glanced at his watch. Only five more minutes in the session to go.

Colin didn’t think he’d last two.

He absently rubbed the back of his neck. There were times when being a couples therapist was just as bad as going without sex, if only because his experiences over the past ninety days seriously undermined his belief in the institution of marriage. There were two types of couples—married and unmarried—that came to counseling. With the first type, the union was beyond repair and they were looking for him to work miracles on it and with the second type the participants were genuinely interested in putting their individual needs aside for the greater good of the union.

More often than not he saw the former. And the extent of his job was to play referee. One of his three partners at the Sylvania Mental Wellness Clinic had offered to get him scorecards for sessions like the one he was currently in the middle of or, better yet, a scoreboard and a buzzer to indicate when one of the spouses had entered foul territory.

In the case of the Hansens he would have ruled a TKO three sessions ago. Significant, considering this was their fourth session.

“Jocelyn,” Colin said quietly, watching as the woman’s face grew redder and spittle formed at the corners of her mouth. Normally an attractive woman, she looked like evil incarnate as she lit into her husband with all the finesse of a pro.

“…and if you think I’m just going to roll over and play patsy, you’ve got another think coming. I already have three kids. I don’t need another. I work a full-time job, same as you, and if I’m too tired for sex every now and again…”

“Jocelyn,” Colin said again, never having had to raise his voice during a session before but afraid this time might prove the exception.

Her husband, Larry, was shaking his head, his own color growing darker. “Shut up, Jos.”

The room fell silent.

Colin blinked. It was the first time Larry had said something of that nature before. Normally quiet, he nodded and probably didn’t pay attention to half of what was being said by either his wife or Colin. Not that Colin could blame him. Jocelyn didn’t so much as speak with you as she spoke at you.

Colin took in Jocelyn’s shocked appearance, spotting all the signs of a major outburst on the rise. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger against his closed eyelids. That was it. He was never getting married.

A brief knock on the door, then it opened. Colin frowned. The temporary receptionist that an employment agency had provided to fill in for their regular receptionist was not the brightest bulb in the string.

He squinted at the female figure that had come to a halt just inside his door. Definitely not the mousy temp he’d expected to see. Long, long legs encased in sheer black stockings. A short, short skirt that hugged her curvy hips in all the right places. A tight, tight white tank top that looked small enough to fit a six-year-old. Flame-red hair fell to the middle of her back and would no doubt tickle the dimples at the curve of her bottom when she was stripped down to her bare, creamy skin.

Mary Magdalene and the Virgin Mary all wrapped up in one provocative package.

His body was making it all too clear it didn’t like his self-imposed temporary celibacy.

His mind told him to hold up on the decision never to marry.

“Ooops. Sorry,” the walking advertisement for everything a man ever wanted in a woman said, then twisted her full lips. “Wrong room.”

Colin lifted his pencil and pointed over his shoulder. “Rest rooms are the next door up.”

She seemed to take her time as she sized him up, then smiled. “Thanks.”

Such a simple word.

Such an unexpected reaction as his groin and his throat tightened farther.

The door closed and Colin reluctantly returned his attention to Jocelyn and Larry. Only Larry was still looking at the closed door, his tongue nearly lolling out of the side of his mouth. Meanwhile Jocelyn looked an inch away from smacking her hand against his chin and shearing his tongue in half with the help of his own teeth.

“My, look at that,” Colin said before round ten of the Hansens’ weekly boxing match could begin. “Our time is up.”

He rose to his feet and put his notepad on the chair behind him. “I think we’ve made some good progress today,” he lied. “Same time next week?”

Jocelyn was still glaring at her husband while Larry shook Colin’s hand and thanked him. Before they were even through the exit door on the other side of the office, Jocelyn had already begun her next verbal attack. Colin closed the door, hoping they didn’t get into an accident on the way home. Not that he was particularly concerned about their well-being. Rather he was more worried about the unsuspecting drivers around them. Never mind the three children that waited at home.

As an only child of older parents, his upbringing differed greatly from what he guessed the Hansen children endured. Discussions at the McKenna dinner table had tended to evolve around page three of The Wall Street Journal or a novel one of them had recently read rather than whether his father’s inappropriate appreciation of a woman’s physical assets had been a shade beyond decent.

He edged around his desk and sat down. He wasn’t cut out for this couples-counseling gig. He fared a little better at group therapy sessions—like the addictive personality disorder one that was on tap next, and the monthly sessions he sat in on at a local runaway shelter—but still he preferred the one-on-one approach that allowed him to make significant progress in a patient’s psychological development.

He made notes on the Hansens, put the file aside, then pulled the five other files for the group he was due to meet in ten minutes. He fingered through them. He was familiar with four of the members, but the fifth was new. He opened the file on one Lucky Clayborn and sat back in his chair. Court-ordered therapy for two D.U.I.’s in a year and a half.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, silently praying that Lucky Clayborn wasn’t the woman who had walked in during his previous session.

Unfortunately, the way his luck was running he fully expected that the sexpot and the drunk driver were one and the same.

FEW THINGS were hotter than a gorgeous guy who had no idea how appealing he was.

Lucky Clayborn sat back in the soft leather chair, her gaze focused on sexy Dr. Colin McKenna while he listened to one of the other group members.

As accidental as it may have appeared, her walking into his office during his previous session had been anything but. After getting no farther than Step Two in the Twelve Step Program on three previous occasions, she’d been curious as to what the court-approved Dr. Colin McKenna was all about. She wasn’t an alcoholic, her court-appointed attorney had pointed out to the court during her last time in front of the judge. And while her word against the arresting officer’s the second time around hadn’t held much sway, she hadn’t been drinking when she’d been charged with the last count—she’d been on cold medication. But it seemed ever since the lowering of the legal intoxication limit, a generous tablespoon of cold medicine before you got behind the wheel was enough to set off the Breathalyzer.

And if every now and again she liked to blur the edges of her life with alcohol, that was between her and the vodka bottle.

The problem was she hadn’t gotten through the Twelve Step Program because she had, admittedly, been uncooperative. So the judge had restricted her driving privileges for six months and ordered her to six weeks of counseling (as an aside she’d also suggested Lucky stay away from any cold medications that contained alcohol).

So Lucky had wanted to get a look at the guy who had the power to have her license taken away altogether.

And she’d liked what she’d seen.

She slowly recrossed her legs, watching the sexy doc’s gaze slide to watch the movement even as he focused on the other patient’s progress report.

“Miss Clayborn?” he said a moment later, startling her. “Would you like to go next?”

Go where? She almost asked.

Then she realized she was being asked to introduce herself.

She glanced over the four other group members—two men and two women—who had all shared their stories. Two admitted alcohol was their stimulent of choice while the other two claimed prescription drugs were to blame for their addictions.

She quietly cleared her throat then crossed her legs again. “I’m Lucky Clayborn and I’m here to get help for my habit of taking cold medication when I’m sick then getting behind the wheel of a car and going to work.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, then one of the women laughed, the other three members smiled and Dr. Colin merely continued gazing at her with those rich dark-brown eyes without blinking.

“Cold medication was to blame for both counts?” he asked without consulting notes or a file or even looking away from her.

For the first time in a long time, Lucky broke a challenging gaze. “You’ve done your homework,” she said quietly. “I’m impressed.”

“And you’re avoiding my question.”

She folded her hands in her lap, trying to ignore how damp her palms were. “No. No, cold medication wasn’t to blame for both counts.”

She looked for something else to focus on rather than his face and found his hands an intriguing substitute. They were large and thick and it was all too easy to imagine them covering her breasts, her taut nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. Her gaze wandered up his perfectly starched white shirt and boring tie, resting briefly on the enticing, cleanly shaven stretch of his neck before lingering on his mouth.

After his bedroom eyes and thick, dark-blond hair, his mouth was by far his most appealing feature. She enjoyed watching his well-defined lips move when he said something in his deep baritone, then smiled. And he would undoubtedly know just what to do with his mouth when words were no longer the order of the day. Yes…Dr. Colin McKenna would definitely know how to kiss a woman. A man as attractive as he was not wearing a wedding ring—if she were married to him she’d probably solder it to his finger—didn’t get far without tasting his share of women. And though she wasn’t getting exactly the response she wanted from him with her leg-crossing, she did recognize the flare of attraction in his eyes before he covered it up and moved on to the next topic.

The problem was, he wasn’t moving the topic anywhere at the moment. He’d stayed silent after her last comment, obviously expecting her to go on.

Lucky swallowed hard and shrugged. “That’s it.”

He squinted, as if trying to get a handle on her. She could have told him not to waste his time. There was no handle to find. If there was, she would have found it a long, long time ago and maybe wouldn’t have to depend on that vodka bottle to help her get by every now and again when the shadows of the past grew long and her ability to battle them short.

Finally, Colin turned his attention to the man to his right.

Lucky shifted, though this time it had nothing to do with getting the sexy doc’s attention. Rather she was slightly relieved that she no longer drew his attention. Of course she couldn’t be sure if the tension filling her stomach had to do with his question or her insane attraction to him.

But she was sure she was going to find out….

2

COLIN COULDN’T REMEMBER a time when his tie had felt tighter.

“Thank you, Dr. McKenna,” Doris Borgdoff said as she passed him on her way out the door. Forty-five years old, mother of two grown boys, secretary at Owen-Illinois, he found it interesting that she still had trouble meeting his eyes when she spoke. “I got a lot out of today’s session.”

Colin forced a smile and said something he hoped was acceptable as his gaze shifted to the final member of the group. The reason for the peculiar tightness of his throat. The sole participant who had not participated, but who had accomplished what she’d set out to do, which was to drive him to distraction.

Sexy Lucky Clayborn glided, rather than walked, to stand in front of him and he was aware of every inch of her shapely legs, her lithe body, her full breasts under her thin shirt.

She smiled up at him, a seductive mixture of fearless feline and mesmerizing minx. He wasn’t even aware that she’d slid her hand against the door to close it until he heard the soft click of the catch hit home, essentially leaving them alone in his office.

“I was hoping to have a word…alone with you for a minute,” she said quietly, her deep-green-eyed gaze trapping his.

Colin’s tie was no longer tight, it was choking him. Everything that was male in him responded to everything that was female in her. A kind of primal reaction that elevated his heart rate and made him all too aware of how long he’d gone without sex.

And how much he wanted to have sex with her.

During the session he’d been overly aware of every move Lucky had made, the sound of her bare thighs sliding together as she crossed and recrossed her legs seeming to grow louder until he’d sworn he could smell the musk of her sex and had imagined what kind of underwear she had or didn’t have on. His gaze dropped to her plump lips, devoid of anything but a hint of gloss and moisture from where she’d just licked them.

Dear God, she was a patient. And he’d had attractive patients before. Even attractive patients that had come on to him.

But no one had made his groin ache the way Lucky Clayborn did.

He broke eye contact and moved to stand behind his desk. The more distance between them the better. “What is it, Miss Clayborn?” he asked, pleased that his voice still sounded like his voice.

She stood still for a long moment, apparently considering his movements, then she crossed to the desk—behind, not in front—and smoothly sat on top of it, giving him a peek of hot-pink panties under the short black skirt.

“You call all the other patients by their first name,” she didn’t say so much as purr. “Why not me?”

She sat not a foot away from where he stood and he was certain now that he could smell her unique musk. An intriguing mix of ginger and one-hundred-percent turned-on woman.

“You’re new,” he managed to push past his tight throat. “I generally address new patients by their proper names until a doctor-patient relationship has had a chance to develop.”

“Mmm.” She slowly scooted over until she sat in front of him.

Despite his best intentions, Colin’s gaze dropped to her sleek thighs, watching as her skirt hitched up a little farther. His mouth watered with the desire to put his tongue right there where a lone mole sat an inch or so away from the pink edge of her panties.

“Miss Clayborn,” he said, trying to keep things light though he felt anything but. He met her gaze, noting the widening of her pupils, the unmistakable desire to be kissed tinting her alluring features. “It’s my duty to remind you that as long as you’re my patient, there can be nothing of a personal nature between us.”

The way she was sitting directly in front of him, with her legs slightly spread, it would be all too easy to slide between those supple thighs, put his arms around her curvy body, then claim that decadent mouth of hers with a kiss that he knew would lead to so much more.

And boy did he want that. He wanted that bad.

She gave him a sexy half smile that suggested she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Shame,” she whispered, though she stayed right where she was.

“Mmm,” he admitted.

He forced his gaze away from her face, and his thoughts away from the voice that urged him to kiss her. Just once. Just touch his tongue to hers to see if she tasted as good as she looked. Slide his fingers up to see if her panties were damp.

“You didn’t participate in the session much,” he said, focusing on his Medical College of Ohio degree and his Ohio license to practice which hung in customized frames on the far wall. He’d worked hard to obtain both and wasn’t about to throw them away because of one electrifying temptress. “I can’t force you to, but you understand that I’m to submit progress reports to the court.”

That seemed to urge her into action. She slowly slid from the desk, putting her luscious body flush up against his.

Making her all the more irresistible.

Colin froze, trying not to notice the way her hips pressed against his, the graze of her hardened nipples against his chest through her shirt and his. His erection pulsed and twitched. There was no doubt she was aware of his aroused state. Their physical closeness allowed for few secrets.

He didn’t dare move. To do so would be to tip his hand, to let her know she had control. And he couldn’t give that to her. To do so would be to undermine their professional affiliation.

To do so would be to lose control, period. Not just over his desires, but over his entire life. Because to kiss Lucky, with those false charges hanging over his head, would be akin to kissing his career goodbye.

“Well, we all do what we have to in the end, don’t we?” she finally said.

She stepped away, but not before brushing against him in a way that made him grit his back teeth to keep from shuddering with need.

She smiled at him, picked up her purse from the desk, then let herself out the exit door.

Colin swallowed hard, and he was pretty sure sweat dotted his brow as he collapsed into his desk chair and made a mental note to himself never again to be alone in a room with Miss Lucky Clayborn.

LUCKY WAS LATE for work. Again.

Of course, it hadn’t helped that she’d lingered at Dr. Colin McKenna’s office after the group session, acting on an explosive attraction she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

She knew enough about men to know that not many of them had the strength to do what the sexy doc had. Oh, yes, involvement with her would very surely put his career in jeopardy. But she’d seen the fiery attraction in his eyes. Had felt his erection, long and thick, pressing against her sex. And she’d known he had read her own signals clearly. Not that she’d been subtle about it. No, subtle would have been easy to ignore for a man like Colin McKenna. So she’d laid it out there for him…literally.

And he’d had the strength to refuse her when another guy would have shoved up her skirt and taken her right then and there on the desk.

A shiver ran the length of her spine as she rushed inside Harry’s Sports Bar.

Lucky waved a quick hello to the head cashier as she hurried back to the employee lockers just to the right of the kitchen and then shoved her purse inside the one marked with her name. She was aware that a couple of the male waiters stood in the corner watching her strip down to her bra and shimmy into her Harry’s T-shirt and apron. She barely glanced their way as she closed her tank inside the locker then twirled the attached combination lock.

“You’re late.”

The manager’s name was Harry, although he wasn’t the Harry on the sign, no matter how much he liked to pretend he was, especially when introducing himself to customers. “Hi, I’m Harry. Are you enjoying your meal?” he would say, leaving them to think he was the Harry of note.

He was somewhere in his mid-forties, was at least that many pounds overweight, and more often than not could do with a shower.

Lucky caught the way he stared at her breasts under the tight T-shirt and put her hand on her hip. “I told you I had an appointment.”

“You also told me you’d make it here on time,” he said to her breasts.

Since she’d landed the job four months ago, Harry had come on to her no fewer than ten times, usually when she worked closing and after all the staff had shared a wind-down beer. Now she usually opted for the earlier shifts even though the tips were better later, her patience for his unwanted attention wearing thin.

As she looked at him now, she suspected the same could be said for Harry. He looked a broken plate away from firing her and hiring another waitress that might be more open to his advances, despite the wedding ring on his left hand that he tried to hide with his class ring.

“I’m sorry. The session ran over,” Lucky said then reached around him to pick up a tray so she could bus a table in her station nearby.

He caught her arm when she tried to pass. “Consider this your second warning, Lucky.” He smiled at her in a way that made her skin crawl. “I don’t think I need to tell you there won’t be a third.”

“Understood,” she said as Connie, another waitress, came up on Harry from behind. Since Connie had been there over a year, she was apparently more open to Harry’s attentions.

She was glad when Harry moved his gaze from her breasts to Connie’s, and she left to go clear the table and take an order from a couple of guys who were sliding into a booth near one of the big-screen televisions on the back wall.

Lucky had been waitressing since she was seventeen and the job was second nature to her. She liked the noisy atmosphere, the nonstop movement, the odd hours. If every now and again her feet felt swollen a point beyond pain and her back ached, she just treated herself to a long, hot bath and a day spent reading then rushed right back into the fray. She’d never given much consideration to doing anything else. She liked her life the way it was. Uncomplicated. Routine. Familiar. With a little spice like the delectable Dr. Colin McKenna thrown in to liven things up from time to time.

Just thinking of him made her smile.

“What’ll it be?” she asked the next table as she straightened the condiment caddy and took out her order pad.

She was doing pretty much the same thing an hour later when two men walked in and took a booth in the next station. She usually gave customers only a cursory glance, but one of the two warranted a double take. Simply because he was one unmistakable Dr. Colin McKenna.

Lucky stood staring in his direction. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in the world…of course, he would have chosen Connie’s station to sit in.

“Are you going to take our order or not?” the guy in the booth next to her asked.

“Not,” she said, walking away.

COLIN ACCEPTED a menu from the girl who had seated him and his best friend, Will Sexton, then stared at the five big-screen televisions on the walls tuned in to different sporting events. He raised a brow at an archery competition then settled his gaze on Will.

“Come here a lot?” he asked.

Will and he had roomed together in college and had remained best friends ever since. While he’d gone the psychiatric route, Will was now a surgeon at St. Vincent-Mercy’s Trauma I Center.

“Don’t you?” Will asked in his thick British accent, cocking a grin at him. “Reminds me of the pubs back home.”

Colin highly doubted that, but didn’t say anything. Mirroring their choice in careers, Colin liked things quiet and subdued while Will’s motto was the more chaotic the better. At least in most things. When it came to their sex lives Colin usually liked things a little more wild, while Will had always chosen the sorority girls with the pink ribbons in their hair. Even now he was dating a sweet little resident who planned to go into pediatrics.

Of course, Colin’s preference had made turning down Lucky Clayborn in his office earlier all the more difficult.

Merely thinking of the hot, seductive woman made him tug at his collar, something he was free to do now that she was no longer in front of him.

“Welcome to Harry’s, gentlemen. Can I get you something from the bar?”

Colin looked up and nearly choked for the second time that day when he found himself staring at none other than the woman in question.

As soon as he had verified that not only wasn’t she a figment of his imagination, but that she was a waitress, he noticed that Lucky didn’t look anywhere near surprised. In fact, her predatory smile told him she’d probably spotted him the moment he’d walked in.

“Hello, Dr. McKenna,” she said with that sexy, throaty voice of hers. “Or may I call you Colin now that we’re no longer in the office?”

Will raised a brow at him. “Friends, are we? And here I thought you’d avoid a place like this like the plague.”

Colin dropped his hand from his tie. “Actually, we met elsewhere. Will, this is Lucky Clayborn.”

Will briefly offered his hand to Lucky. “Such an auspicious name. Nice. Very nice.”

Lucky stared at Will’s hand for a long moment then finally put her own into it and gave a brief shake, apparently not used to the greeting. “Nice to meet you,” she said, her gaze immediately re turning to Colin.

He tried not to notice the way her T-shirt hugged her just as tightly as her tank had earlier, the green fabric making her eyes look huge in her pale face.

“Can I bring you a draft?” she asked. “Harry brews his own.”

Colin swallowed hard and forced his gaze to his menu. “I’ll have bottled water.”

Will winked at her good-naturedly. “I’ll take a draft. Unlike the stuffed shirt here, I’m just knocking off work.”

Another waitress neared the table and stopped next to Lucky. Her whisper was none too subtle. “What are you doing? This is my table.”

Lucky shrugged her away. “Would you guys like to order now or would you like a few more minutes to go over the menu?”

Colin got the definite impression that if he so wanted, he could order her up with no problem.

His tie wasn’t the only item of clothing that suddenly felt tight.

The other waitress strode away toward the back of the restaurant. Colin looked around Lucky to watch the other woman strike up a conversation with a man he guessed was the manager or the owner.

“We’ll order now,” he said, thinking the less interaction with Lucky the better.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” he asked after he and Will had made their choices.

Lucky glanced back to where the manager was staring at her while the waitress pointed in her direction.

She smiled as she accepted their menus. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

She walked away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Will pulled at his own collar. “Did the temperature just get a little hotter in here or is it my imagination?”

Colin grimaced as he straightened his silverware. “It’s your imagination.”

“Well, I certainly hope so because I’m guessing she’s a patient of yours. And you don’t want to be taking any chances right now. Not with everything that’s hanging in the balance.” His gaze trailed back to Lucky. “That’s one hot number, though. I don’t know what I would do if a patient of her caliber came on to me the way she’s coming on to you. A package like that has a way of making you forget about medical degrees. Pass her on to one of your colleagues quick, mate.”

Colin had considered and discarded the option earlier. To pass her on to one of his partners wouldn’t look good. And right now he couldn’t afford even a hint of impropriety. “So why did you pass Miss Clayborn onto your partner?” he could hear himself being asked during a legal deposition. What would he say? “I wanted to screw her so bad my balls ached, that’s why.”

The sound of raised voices caught his attention. He looked over to where Lucky was facing off with the manager, the other waitress standing nearby with her arms crossed under her impressive chest. Colin couldn’t make out what was being said, but given the man’s stern expression he didn’t think it was good.

And when Lucky took off her apron and then peeled off her T-shirt and draped both over the manager’s head, he knew he’d guessed correctly.

There were hoots and hollers as Lucky strode, as casual as you please, toward the kitchen where she disappeared behind the doors.

“Whoa,” Will said, his eyes wide. “Something tells me I won’t be getting that ale any time soon.”

Colin watched as Lucky came back out of the kitchen wearing the same tank she’d had on earlier. She ignored the manager as she walked through the place then out the front door.

He started to push from the table.

Will caught his arm, his expression stern. “I wouldn’t if I were you, Col.”

Colin considered him. “I know. But you’re not me.”

And then he went out after Lucky.

3

IT WAS raining.

Figured. Lucky kept her chin high and her shoulders back. It was raining in her professional life, so why shouldn’t it be in reality?

She squelched a groan. She’d really needed that job. Aside from the good tips, the flexibility had allowed her to work around her morning job at the pancake house within walking distance of the bar. And considering that the pancake house didn’t have an item on the menu that cost more than five dollars and ninety cents, her tips were minimal, by no means enough to live on.

And she’d thrown the job away for a man….

She tripped over her own feet, missing a puddle by millimeters. Had she ever done something so spontaneously irresponsible before? Not when it came to the opposite sex. Sure, she might like to shake things up a bit wherever she was, and she didn’t take well to leering bosses, but a few unwanted stares at her breasts had never been enough for her to walk away from a well-paying job. And in this case, she had not only walked away from it, she’d gone to Colin’s table knowing full well she’d be fired.

Of course, at the time it had seemed more than worth the unguarded expression on his face when he’d looked up to see her.

Now? Well, now she wondered which errant hormones had made her act so impulsively and how she might go about getting them back under control.

Sure, the shrink was thigh-quiveringly sexy. But no man was sexier than a good night’s worth of tips. Not when she had bills to pay.

She opened the door of her twenty-five-year-old Chevy and slid onto the well-maintained leather driver’s seat, breathing in the scent of old car and raspberry air freshener as she fished her keys from her purse. The ping of rain against the roof was the only sound…even after she turned the ignition key.

Not even a sputter, a whine or a crank from the old vehicle. Nothing.

Lucky tried starting the car again with the same results.

She rested her forehead against the cracked leather steering wheel and closed her eyes. Great. Just what she needed considering she’d just lost her main source of income.

There was a light tap on her window. She leaned back to stare at the blurry image through the rain-spattered glass. Was that…

Colin.

“Are you all right?” she read his lips rather than heard the muffled words.

Lucky blinked at him. Was the doc really standing out in the rain with no protection, his hands tucked into his slacks pockets as he bent to look inside her car? Yes, he was. And in that one moment everything that had transpired in the past ten minutes had been worth it.

She yanked open the door and climbed out of the car to stand in front of him. He straightened, seeming to squint at her in the gloomy light.

“What was that you said?” she asked.

“I asked if you were all right.”

Lucky twisted her lips, giving his tall, lean body a full once-over before returning her gaze to his eyes. “Considering I just got fired five minutes ago, my car won’t start, and the lack of an umbrella has made my tank top transparent? I’m just peachy.”

His gaze dropped down to her breasts. Lucky didn’t have to look. It didn’t take a physics professor to know that white cotton and steady rain made her look like a wet T-shirt contestant.

Only she was unprepared for the warm shiver that slaked through her at Colin’s slow perusal.

She rounded him to stand at the front of her car. After sliding her fingers in between the grill slats, she tugged on the release then braced herself as she hauled open the old car’s hood.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about cars, would you, Dr. McKenna?” she asked.

He came to stand next to her, staring at the grease-covered engine. “I know enough.”

“And would any of that knowledge help me out with what’s happening now?”

He looked at her, his mind appearing to be on everything but the status of her car. “It’s my guess your battery’s dead.”

He walked to the driver’s door, opened it, then pushed in the button that turned off the headlights. When she’d gotten into her car, Lucky hadn’t even been aware they were on. Then again, why would she? If the headlights had drained her sorry excuse for a battery, then there wouldn’t be any juice left to illuminate them now, would there?

Great.

Colin closed the door then reached to close the hood.

Lucky turned to face him. The fact that they stood without a raincoat or an umbrella in the pouring rain didn’t matter to her. Nor did it appear to matter to him as they stood just staring at each other.

“Well,” she said slowly, feeling oddly turned on by the attention. Attention she had wanted only a few hours earlier in his office but that now seemed somehow…very intimate to her. “I guess you won’t have to worry about running into me again here.”

He nodded. “Fired?”

“Very.”

His mouth turned up into a small smile. “How do you feel about that?”

Lucky narrowed her eyes. “Dr. McKenna, are you trying to psychoanalyze me in a parking lot in the middle of a thunderstorm?”

He looked up. “It would have to be thundering in order for it to be a thunderstorm.”

Lucky could have sworn she’d heard a few cracks and felt the ground shake, but she wasn’t going to say anything in case the sensations had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with Colin McKenna.

“And you’re avoiding my question,” she said just as he had in his office earlier.

The very handsome Colin McKenna looked even more delectable mussed up and wet. “Sorry. Hazard of the trade, I guess.”

“What is? That you always end up sounding like a doctor?”

He nodded. “Especially when talking to a patient.”

That’s right. They still were doctor and patient, weren’t they? Despite all that had happened in her own life in the past half hour, their connection remained the same. A connection that prevented the more sexual one she wanted more in that minute than she had at any other point during the day.

“Mmm.”

His smile widened. “Can I give you a lift?”

“What would your lunch companion have to say about your disappearance?”

He glanced back toward the sports bar.

Lucky reached into her car, took her keys from the ignition, and grabbed her purse. “That’s all right, Dr. McKenna. I wouldn’t want to ask you to do something that might appear inappropriate.”

Actually, she wanted to ask him to do something very inappropriate. She wanted to ask him to kiss her. To brand her skin with his hands. To show her what she’d only felt earlier in the office when she’d provocatively brushed up against him.

“How will you get home?”

She took a card out of her purse and waved it at him. “It’s called the bus.”

Lucky began to round Colin to start toward Secor Road and the bus stop across the street, then stopped parallel to him. Despite the weather, she made out the warm scent of his cologne. Or was it aftershave? Whichever it was, the smell made her want to press her tongue to his skin to see if he tasted as good as he smelled.

And before she knew it, she turned to do exactly that.

COLIN HAD KNOWN a moment of disappointed relief when Lucky turned down his offer of a ride. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he’d made the offer, but he knew it was linked to what ever had compelled him to come outside to see if she was all right.

And he needed to get a handle on it before he and the sexy waitress…patient crossed paths again.

He was pretty sure he exhaled when she began walking toward the road.

After a few steps, she stopped and turned. “Actually, there’s one thing you can do for me real quick, Doc,” Lucky said lightly grasping his arm. “You can kiss me.”

Colin opened his mouth to protest. The problem was the movement allowed her better access as she took his bottom lip between her teeth, then kissed him like a woman who could teach classes on the subject.

He felt a groan grumble up from his chest. It had been a long, long time since he’d so thoroughly enjoyed a kiss. More than three months, though he’d gone without sex that long.

He stood still, reveling in the soft, uneven texture of her lips. The rasp of her tongue as she took full advantage and slid it past his teeth.

“Mmm.”

Lucky made that sound again that tugged on something within him. Something deep and elemental and undeniable.

He reached out to pull her closer when she pulled away.

Raindrops clung to her lashes, making them look longer and thicker and giving her cat-green eyes an even more vivid appearance. Whatever makeup she may have had on had long since been washed away by the rain, revealing a light smattering of freckles over her pale skin. And her red hair shone almost black with wetness.

“That was even better than I imagined,” she said softly. “And I have quite an imagination.”

Then she was walking away from him, her hips swaying, seeming completely oblivious to the rain and to him as she made her way toward the road some hundred yards away.

Colin absently rubbed his chin, then held out his hand, absently watching the rain pelt his skin then run off to accumulate in a puddle at his feet. He was soaked and somehow couldn’t remember how he’d gotten that way. He glanced up toward the battle-gray sky then back to the street, only Lucky was long gone.

FOR AN ENTIRE WEEK Colin both dreaded and anticipated the moment when Lucky would walk through the door to his office and either prove or disprove his attraction toward her. A case of raging hormones, he’d tried telling himself over and over again. An instance of temporary insanity. But no matter how many times he tried to apply reason to the erotic kiss he’d shared with Lucky in that parking lot seven days ago, he fell well short of the mark.

Then the moment he’d been waiting seven long days for never came.

Colin sat back in his chair, tapping his pencil against the incoming mail and files the practice secretary had placed on his desk after the group he’d finished with had vacated the room. The group that should have included Lucky.

He leaned forward, browsing through the files, looking for hers. Normal procedure dictated he contact the court, let them know the terms of their orders were being violated. But he was reluctant to do that. Maybe she’d got caught up at work. Perhaps she hadn’t repaired her car.

He couldn’t find her file.

Grimacing, he went through the pile again with the same results. A pink envelope fluttered from the files in his hands and landed squarely in the middle of his lap.

That’s odd. It looked like expensive personal stationary. Definitely not the type of thing he would think of Lucky possessing. He slit open the side with his opener and took out the single sheet of pink paper.

She’s pretty. I could have been pretty for you.

Colin’s blood ran cold.

While the handwriting wasn’t familiar, the words—or rather the taunt in them—was.

Jamie Polson.

He pushed from his chair and didn’t stop moving until he stood in front of his secretary’s desk.

Having been out with the flu the week before, Annette looked the worse for wear.

“Where did this come from?” he asked, flashing her the envelope that simply said Colin across it.

Annette blinked at him. “I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing it when I sorted through your things a little while ago.” She took the envelope and turned it over. “This I definitely would have remembered.” She smiled as she handed it back. “Love letter?”

Far from it, he wanted to say.

“Hi,” the breathless greeting sounded behind him.

Colin turned to find Lucky Clayborn smiling at him sexily. He nearly crumpled the letter and envelope in his grip. Someone had gained access to his office to put Jamie’s card there. And the card itself bore an unspoken threat of sorts that upped the level of tension. He’d hoped time would allow Jamie the space to move on. To drop the case.

Instead Jamie appeared even more determined to keep him on the run, both in court and out. And he couldn’t help wondering at the coincidence of Lucky’s presence at the same time he’d discovered the card.

Colin discovered he was staring at Lucky’s full mouth and allowed his gaze to linger there before lifting it to her eyes. “You’re late,” he told her. “The session’s over.” He stared at his secretary. “Where’s Miss Clayborn’s file?”

Annette appeared puzzled as she answered the phone then put someone on hold. “In with Dr. Szymanski’s files, of course. Miss Clayborn called and asked to be transferred last week.”

Lucky had moved to Morgan Szymanski, one of his partners?

Colin’s pulse rate leapt at the knowledge that Lucky was no longer his patient.

“Do you have a few minutes?”

Lucky had asked the question from behind him, but Colin didn’t trust himself to look at her. Without the doctor-patient wall standing between them, there was no longer any reason to resist her. He stared at the note in his hands then glanced at her.

“Why don’t we talk in my office?” he suggested.

4

BEING INSIDE Colin’s office with him, alone, was exactly what Lucky had had in mind.

She followed the handsome doc through the door to the right of the secretary’s desk, waiting until he closed the thick wood before she did what she’d been yearning to do all week.

She stepped within breathing distance and kissed him fully on the mouth.

Incredible…

Lucky had just spent the past hour getting to know her new therapist and her three new group mates. She’d volunteered more than during last week’s session, though Dr. Szymanski had been even less impressed with her participation than Colin had. But, with the simple touch of her lips against Colin’s, she forgot all about the fact that she was to begin keeping a daily journal. Gone was her agitation at her inability to find a job. A distant memory was the dent to her savings made by the money she’d had to pay to replace her car battery.

And long forgotten was her fear that Colin would refuse to see her even though she was no longer his patient.

Instead she just…well, she merely allowed herself to feel.

As she lifted her hands to thread her sensitized fingers through his velvet hair and intensify the kiss, sizzling heat spread across her skin, then went deeper, igniting her nerve endings in a flash fire. Want pooled in her belly, tension coiling even though her muscles relaxed.

There was something about this one moment in time that made the world look different to her somehow, the instant when she gave herself over to attraction and allowed her body to lead instead of her mind. There was something primal in the action, something freeing.

Something that freed her from her past, if only for a short while.

Kissing Dr. Colin McKenna did all that and much, much more.

By now Lucky should have dived for the waist of his pants, seeking even greater release. Strangely she seemed to be satisfied merely kissing the handsome doc. She couldn’t remember feeling that way before—happy simply feeling the firmness of a man’s lips against hers. Usually her mind had already moved ahead a step and her hands and body quickly followed. Now it seemed to take every ounce of concentration to kiss him.

Colin groaned and backed her toward the leather couch positioned against the wall under a print of downtown Toledo. The same couch Lucky had fantasized about taking him on a week ago. Regaining some control over her actions, she turned him around so she could push him down against the rich, fragrant leather. The instant he was prone she climbed on top of him, mindless of the way her miniskirt hiked up her thighs, focused only on the red-hot sensations flowing through her.

It felt so good, so right, so natural to be doing what she was. Colin cupped her breasts and she gasped, surprised by the shock of his touch. He broke the kiss and gazed down at her chest as he stroked her through her cotton top. But she could do him one better. She reached for the hem and hauled the material up and over her head, leaving only her red lace demi-cup bra behind.

She hungrily licked her lips as she watched the brown of Colin’s eyes nearly disappear under his dilating pupils. She began to bend to kiss him again, but the feel of his fingertip burrowing into the top of her bra then rasping against her distended nipple stopped her. She watched, trembling, as he peeled the lace back from her breast then lifted his head to suckle her deep into his mouth.

Lucky stiffened, her womanhood pulsing between her thighs, her heart thudding against the wall of her chest. She’d rarely experienced such a burning need to have sex with someone before. Oh, she’d always loved sex. But the hungry heat accumulating low in her belly took her breath away.

She wriggled her hips, happy when the thick ridge of his hard-on fell between the sides of her fleshy valley. She stretched her neck, riding out the waves of sheer pleasure at the meeting, despite the obstacle of their clothes.

Colin took advantage of the momentary lowering of her barriers to reverse their positions so that her back was against the soft leather and he pressed against her front. Lucky stared up at him in part surprise, part wonder, but most of all need.

When he leaned to kiss her, he did so with animal abandon. He bit and sucked and plucked, his breathing ragged, his hips cradled hard between her thighs. Lucky blindly pulled at his shirt, tugging it from his pants, then flattened her hands against the solid plane of his abdomen. He was rock-hard and lean and so hot she nearly singed her palms. She pinched his flat nipples, listening to the low growl in his chest, then dove for his pants, the sound of his zipper opening loud in the otherwise quiet room. She knew such an urgency to have him inside her that when she felt his finger edge inside the elastic of her panties and flutter against her clit, she nearly came on the spot.

Finally Colin’s throbbing erection filled her hand. Lucky pulled back from their kiss so she could see the thick width and length of him. Her doing so seemed to turn him on even further, his hips bucking involuntarily. She gently squeezed, then moved her hand up the shaft without releasing her grip, watching moisture gather on the tip.

Colin shuddered against her at the same time he thrust two fingers deep inside her dripping wet ness. The move was so unexpected that Lucky reached orgasm, bearing down on his hand and gyrating as sensation after sensation crashed over her.

Then the hand was gone from between her legs and was instead clutching her jaw. She blinked open her eyes. But rather than see the man who had given her the best orgasm she’d had in a very long time, she saw Colin’s angry face.

“Did Jamie put you up to this?” he ground out.

ONE MOMENT Colin had been on the verge of spilling his seed all over Lucky’s hand, the next he was seeing her as the enemy, a modern-day Mata Hari bent on destroying him.

He glimpsed the fear in Lucky’s eyes before she quickly blinked it away.

Colin cursed loudly and rolled off her luscious body to stand. He slipped his painfully erect penis into his pants, then tucked his shirt in and did up his pants.

“How much did Jamie pay you?” he said after long moments.

Lucky was right where he’d left her, her fingers gingerly tracing the line of her jaw where he’d gripped her, perhaps a little too hard.

She swung her legs over the side of the couch, and tucked her breasts back into her bra. Her golden-red hair was sexily tousled, her color high. And Colin had no idea how he’d found the strength to deny his need to have sex with her.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” she finally asked, pulling her top back over her head then removing her long hair from the back. “And who in the hell is Jamie?”

Colin rounded his desk. A good fifteen feet separated him from the woman he’d nearly ravished mere minutes ago, but it might as well have been nothing. His nose was still filled with her musky scent. His body still ached with the desire to claim her. “Come off it. A guy doesn’t get this lucky unless he’s going to pay for it later.”

She flicked him a fiery smile. “Yes, well, this Lucky doesn’t do it for money.”

She got up from the couch and straightened her short skirt.

Colin crossed his arms. “The timing of your being assigned to me…your coming on to me so hard…switching doctors then showing up here…it has to be more than coincidence.”

She stepped toward his desk, making his pulse leap. “Whoever this Jamie is, she really screwed you up, huh?”

Colin found it more than a bit odd that he was standing in his office with a patient—ex-patient—and she was the one doing the analyzing.

“I consider myself a little on the suspicious side, but you,” she was standing in front of him now and poked her finger into his chest, “you really take the cake, Dr. McKenna.”

Colin stared into her flushed face for long moments. Could he be wrong? Could everything that had happened between him and Lucky have been just a natural progression of events?

Even as he asked himself the question, he knew there was nothing natural about his wanting to claim her in a way he’d never claimed another woman before. Or perhaps it was purely natural, some kind of primal instinct to overpower his enemy.

She tsked as she ran her fingertip down over his buttons. “It’s a shame.”

She turned around and walked toward the exit door.

“What is?” Colin couldn’t resist asking.

“That I won’t be seeing you again.” She opened the door, then stood leaning against it.

“You see, I make it a habit not to get involved with anyone more screwed up than I am. And you, Colin, have demons not even I can compete with.”

He squinted at her as she gave him a once-over.

“It really is a shame. I have the feeling you’re very good in the sack. And I definitely was interested in finding out how good.”

Colin winced at the quiet click of the door closing.

FIVE DAYS LATER Colin was no closer to finding out the truth behind what had happened than he had been when he’d been cushioned between Lucky’s sweet thighs, literally an inch away from having sex with her.

“Come on, Mac, get your game on!”

Colin absently twirled the tennis racket in his hand and stared across the tennis court at Will who had just taken the first set and was two points into winning the next game.

The ball hit the center line then whizzed right by his left ear.

He’d agreed to meet his friend at his condo complex for tennis hoping some exercise and Will’s company would help him forget about what had transpired in his office. Instead all he could think about was that it was Saturday morning and he had two whole days to fill before he could go back to work on Monday morning. Two yawning spring days that he usually looked forward to but now dreaded.

Twenty minutes later Will called the second set and tossed him a clean towel as they left the courts.

Will grinned at him. “Well, that was certainly a nice change of events. You usually beat the crap out of me at tennis.”

Colin used the towel to wipe his face, though he didn’t need it, then draped the terry cloth around his neck. “Yeah, well, I took pity on you this morning.”

Will nudged him in the arm with his covered racket. “No, mate, you’re distracted. And I don’t think it’s one of your whackos behind this one.”

Colin grimaced at his friend. “For a doctor you can be very insensitive.”

“Me? What would make you say that?”

“Whackos?”

“I’d never call them that to their faces.”

“Your referring to them that way at all makes you insensitive.”

Will chuckled. “I’ll let you have that one. If only because I’m concerned about your mental welfare after this morning’s match.”

They walked in silence, winding around the three buildings that separated the tennis courts from the Victorian block that held Will’s condo.

Will made some comments about the quality of the women sunbathing at the pool then turned his attention back to Colin.

“So, are you going to share who she is or not?”

“Who?”

“The wily female who’s stolen your brain straight out of your head.”

“There’s no one in my life right now. You know that.”

“I know that’s what your attorney advised.”

Colin slanted him a wary look.

“Good, then. You wouldn’t mind doubling with me and Janet then tonight.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Will feigned a couple of tennis moves then continued walking next to him again. “The pretty resident has finally agreed to go out with me, but only on the condition that I bring someone along for her girlfriend.”

“No way. If you’ll remember correctly, my attorney advised me not to date anyone.”

“This won’t be a date. This will be two pals getting together and running into a couple of girls while they’re out.”

“Mmm.”

“You wouldn’t deny a guy a chance to take the pretty pink ribbon out of Janet’s hair now, would you?”

That’s how Will always referred to the women he dated. And quite accurately at that. While it was highly unlikely Janet wore an actual pink ribbon, she was the type that would have done so in high school. While she was the head varsity cheerleader.

“I would and I am.”

Will took his keys out of his pocket as they neared his building. “Why? Has something happened on the Jamie front I don’t know about?”

Colin ran his hand over his face, not really up to talking about it just then. “Yeah, a couple things. But nothing to be worried about.”

Will held open the door for him, but when Colin would have entered, two young women bounded out, looking as if the only thing they would do with pink ribbons was tie them around their body piercings. Short, tight T-shirts and even shorter denim cutoffs revealed bodies buff enough for the cover of Playboy without the need for air-brushing.

“Hi, Willy,” the short brunette said, stopping in front of Will and smiling at him in open suggestion. “So when are we going to hook up? How about tonight?”

Colin covered his grin with a none-too-discreet cough while Will squirmed under the sex kitten’s attentions. “Another time, perhaps?”

“Mmm. Another time. I’m going to hold you to that, Willy.”

The woman gave Will a loud kiss then followed after her friend who was a good twenty feet down the walk.

“Friend of yours?” Colin asked.

“Neighbors.” Colin followed Will’s line of sight. Yes. Despite his preference for young and innocent, Will’s gaze was definitely glued to the brunette’s pert backside.

And what a backside it was, too.

“And she’s gay.”

“Is not,” Colin objected.

“Is, too. That’s her girlfriend. And when I say girlfriend, I don’t mean they’re both girls and they’re friends. I mean they share the same bed at night and they do more than sleep in it. Come on. Maybe it will be quiet now without the two of them playing their music so loudly.”

Colin led the way inside and climbed the steps to the first floor where Will’s condo was located.

Halfway up, Will stopped and said, “Don’t tell me it’s the girl from the bar that’s got you all worked up.”

Colin turned to stare at his friend. “What?”

Where in the hell had that come from?

Will jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “It’s just that I was thinking about how those two were just your type—well, if they went in for that sort of thing, anyway—when I remembered that girl, that redhead that got fired from the bar.”

Colin looked away.

“All this, your distracted state, it is about her, isn’t it?”

Colin cleared his throat. “Are we going to catch a shower and get going to that lunch at the club or not?”

Will slowly ascended the stairs to stand next to him. “Oh my God. I’m right, aren’t I? You’re preoccupied with thoughts of banging a patient. An out-and-out whacko.”

“She’s no longer my patient. And she’s not a whacko.”

“Oh? Cured that fast, hey?”

Colin stared at him, then at what Will was staring at. Namely, the fist Colin had raised.

Colin blinked. He’d never been a scrapper. Had never even gotten into a fistfight. Not in elementary school. Not in junior high. Never.

So what did it mean that he had a fist raised against his best friend?

“Whoa. This is worse than even I feared,” Will said quietly as Colin regained control of his hands and his thoughts. “I have some advice for you, mate,” Will said as he unlocked his condo door then led the way inside.

Colin tensed at the blast of cold air that hit him. He hadn’t turned on the air conditioner in his own apartment, although they’d had it on at the office for a few weeks now.

“And that is?”

Will put his tennis gear away in the hall closet then turned to grin at him. “Come out with me tonight. I bet Janet’s friend will be able to make you forget what’s-her-name.”

That’s what he thought.

“Or else…”

Colin sat down on the white leather couch. Everything in Will’s place was either white or off-white. Well, there was no accounting for taste. He and Will didn’t share the same taste in furniture or women.

“Or else what?” he prompted when Will didn’t immediately offer.

“Or else screw the woman’s head off and get her the hell out of your system.”

5

“ANNETTE, could you please bring me Miss Clayborn’s contact information?”

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