She shouldn’t do this

Erin had sworn off men…although, at this moment with her palm against Jack’s hard, warm chest, for the life of her she couldn’t remember why. Moving her hands in small circles, she worked her way along his torso, her pulse thudding as she traced his firm muscles. Desire flowed through her and she swallowed as he rolled back his head and a small moan of pleasure sounded from his throat.

It wasn’t enough. She had to touch him.

With quick twists of her fingers she undid his shirt, then laid her hands on his skin, hardly believing she could be so bold. Where was that resolve to remain single? Nowhere in sight.

His gaze fell to her mouth and she could feel him fighting the urge to kiss her. She struggled herself. In that moment there wasn’t anything that made sense in the world but joining her mouth to his. She pressed her lips to his, where she paused for just a heartbeat while their breath mixed, the warmth and excitement and anticipation almost unbearable.

So much for swearing off men.

Dear Reader,

As I was growing up, the children of my family split into two distinct groups—the big kids and the little kids. Falling directly in the middle of the seven of us, I could have gone either way. To my frustration, though, I was relegated to the latter group, always left out of the big kids’ fun. As a result, I completely relate to the issues my heroine in Faking It, Erin McClellan, faces as a younger sister.

I hope you like my story of how Erin struggles to gain acceptance and carve her own place in her family. I enjoyed matching her with Jack Langston, a hero I wouldn’t mind meeting in real life.

If you get a chance, write me and let me know what you thought of this story and the SEXUAL HEALING miniseries. I value my reader feedback. You can reach me at dorie@doriegraham.com or P.O. Box 769012, Roswell, Georgia 30076. And don’t forget to check out my Web site at www.doriegraham.com.

Best wishes,

Dorie Graham

Faking It
Dorie Graham

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Rain, Newt and Lily, you are by far the most influential group of sisters to have touched my life. You challenge me in ways that help me grow, fill me with pride in all your accomplishments and bring me more joy than I could ever have imagined.

I love you for always. This one’s for you.

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

1

SHE WAS TYPHOID MARY reincarnated. Erin McClellan stared in horror as Trent Gray heaved the contents of his stomach into the vase she’d shoved into his hands just in the nick of time. The flowers that had occupied the vase lay limply beside a discarded condom wrapper. Guilt swamped her. She stared at the wrapper as Trent bent again over the vase, clutching his stomach.

If only she could blot out the sounds of his agony as he heaved again. She could kick herself for letting this happen. Hadn’t she learned with Ryan, the last man she’d slept with?

Trent raised his head and she took the vase and set it aside as he flopped weakly onto the pillow. How could she have done this to such a nice man?

If only her sister’s friend, Josh, hadn’t introduced them and Trent hadn’t been willing to take over for Josh, who’d been helping her with her design projects. If only she and Trent hadn’t spent all that time together. If only Trent hadn’t talked with her late into the night about all her dreams and her worries, making her feel first safe, then vulnerable in a way that had her melting into his arms. If only his lips hadn’t been so soft, his kisses so hot.

If only she hadn’t given in to temptation and slept with the man.

“I’m so sorry.” She mopped his forehead with a cool cloth.

He raised his bleary eyes to her. “Don’t worry. It isn’t your fault.”

If only he knew.

“Well, I feel responsible.” She held the vase away from her. “I’ll get you a drink of water.”

He nodded. She left him to pad down the hall to her kitchen. She left the vase to soak in the sink, then poured him a glass of water.

As she walked slowly to her room, her mind drifted over her past relationships. That first time with that guy from the park that neither of her sisters, Tess or Nikki, knew about had been surprising at best. She’d been concerned when he’d become ill after they first made love but had chalked it up to bad timing.

The second time he’d gotten ill after their lovemaking, she’d thought he’d just needed more time to recuperate. When it happened again after some time had passed, she’d placed the blame squarely on his shoulders, thinking it was some strange quirk on his part. How shocked she’d been when he’d broken up with her, saying he couldn’t take it anymore.

Then she’d met Pete and the same thing had happened again. She’d somehow talked herself into believing it was all some weird coincidence. Surely none of this was her fault.

Pete had come and gone rather quickly and she’d begun to think it was all an unpleasant dream. Then she’d met Ryan, and after four days of him being too sick for her to sneak him out of her bedroom, she’d known.

It was her.

“Here.” She handed Trent the water.

He took a feeble sip, then shook his head. “This is so embarrassing. I swear, I never get sick.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She looked anywhere but at him.

He wrestled himself into a sitting position. “I should probably go.”

“Can you drive?” She cringed at the note of hope in her voice.

“I think so. I’m sorry about this, Erin.”

“You have no need to apologize.” She helped him dress, shamefully grateful to have him leaving. If she had to go through another catastrophe as she’d gone through with Ryan, she might just jump out the window.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Guilt returned to weigh her down as she walked Trent to the door. “I can drive you…or you could stay.”

His eyes widened. “No, it isn’t that far.” He gripped the doorjamb. “I can make it. I’ll recuperate faster in my own bed.”

“Right. I’m sorry again about…” She gestured lamely, feeling three times an idiot and hating herself for causing him such discomfort.

After nodding awkwardly, he lurched out the door. Relieved beyond measure, she turned the dead bolt behind him. At least her sisters had moved out. The thought of discussing her little problem with them sent dread twisting through her. They’d never taken her seriously. Why would this be different?

She’d avoided an interrogation over Ryan only by refusing to discuss the issue, and they’d taken her silence for heartache. In this case, they might not have given up so easily. The last thing she felt like doing was explaining what had happened with this latest love interest.

Where both of you inherited the wonderful gift of sexual healing, I seem to be experiencing some kind of quirk in the gene pool. You sleep with a guy and he comes out of it revived and ready to conquer the world. I sleep with a guy and he ends up so ill he wishes he could die.

She let her gaze sweep the apartment that had been home to her and her sisters for the past several years. Memories flooded her: bumping into one of Nikki’s lovers as he made a hasty but ecstatic exit in the middle of the night. Tess’s ex-lovers falling all over themselves to please her sister and never taking notice of Erin; the old guy next door leering at her after a particularly high-traffic day.

It was time for a change. Her lease was nearly up and she didn’t need such a big place all to herself. Nikki and Tess had moved on with their prospective lives—they had both issued invitations for her to move in, but the thought of living with either of them sent unease racing through her. Besides that, they were both basking in glorious love affairs and the two had embraced Aunt Sophie’s ridiculous assertion that the three of them had descended from a long line of sexual healers.

“Sexual healers.” Erin’s mouth quirked into a lopsided grin.

“Sexual healers.” A giggle tickled its way up her throat.

“Sexual healers.” Laughter burst from her in a rush of nerves and incredulity.

She laughed until she sank to the floor, her back to the wall. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. How could they have bought in to such foolishness?

Hurt and resentment swirled through her. When they had been kids, she’d been excluded from all the fun, and as they’d grown up, she’d been left out of all the more serious discussions. Things had improved and she’d come to terms with being the youngest sister, but her sisters’ acceptance of this “gift” felt too much like a betrayal. Logically she knew it wasn’t, but the feeling had lodged itself in her and she hadn’t been able to shake it.

Again she let her gaze sweep the empty rooms that had once overflowed with Nikki, Tess and Tess’s minions, as they called her collection of men. The quiet settled around Erin and she breathed deeply, savoring the peace. She’d had so little peace sharing this apartment with them. She had no desire to stay in a place tainted by less-than-happy memories.

It was time to move. She longed for something different, a normal place, where no one talked about empathic natures, Aunt Sophie’s brews or sexual healing—a place far removed from the McClellan lore.

“WHY IS THIS ESTIMATE SO HIGH?” Jack Langston frowned over the total on the work order from the electrician his mother had contracted.

“These fixtures aren’t up to code. They need fireboxes installed. When was this house built?” the electrician asked.

“Sometime in the seventies?” Jack glanced at his mother for confirmation. He’d grown up in this house and they’d always had the same lighting fixtures.

His mother shrugged. “Seventy-four, I think. These are probably the original fixtures.”

“Yes, ma’am, you were lucky when this shorted it didn’t start a fire,” the electrician said. “I can’t install the new lights without first putting in fireboxes.”

“Jack, when you’re done with that, do you have a minute?” His mother’s sister, Rose, peered over the electrician’s shoulder. “I can’t decide about this new insurance policy. I’ve been putting this off forever and my current policy is about to expire. I need to make a decision today. I could use your advice.”

Jack’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. “Hold on a minute, Aunt Rose.” Rubbing the tightening in his chest he answered his phone. “Jack Langston.”

“Hey, bro, what’s up?” his brother, Bobby, asked in his usual laid back manner.

“Trying to help out Mom and Aunt Rose.” The heaviness in Jack’s chest increased as he glanced at his watch. If he didn’t tie things up soon, he’d be late for his one o’clock appointment with a new client.

“Great, you’re at Mom’s?” Bobby asked. “I’m right around the corner dropping off my car. Do you think you can swing by and get me, then take me back to my place?”

The heaviness grew into a dull ache as Jack’s gaze drifted over the electrician, his aunt and his mother, with her worried frown. His cardiologist’s words rang in his ears.

You’ve got to cut back, not push yourself so hard. This fatigue and these chest pains are your body’s way of warning you that all isn’t as it should be.

But Jack was fine and how could he let his family down? “Give me about fifteen minutes to finish up here, Bobby, then I’ll come get you.”

His brother gave him directions to the garage, then Jack hung up and turned to the electrician, saying, “Go ahead and replace both fixtures and install the new fireboxes.”

“But, Jack,” his mother said, “I’m not sure I can afford that right now.” She turned to the electrician. “Maybe you should come back at the end of the month?”

“He’s here, Mom, let him do the work. I’ll take care of it.” Jack gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Sweetheart, are you sure? I hate to count on you all the time like this.”

“Not to worry. I’m here to look after you.” He spent a few more minutes with the electrician, before he felt satisfied the man would do the job to his specifications, then he turned to his aunt. “Okay, Aunt Rose, I have exactly one minute. How can I help?”

Fifteen minutes later he raced for his car. His aunt had had questions about everything from deductibles to flood insurance, with a sidetrack on term life insurance. In the end, she’d opted to renew her current policy.

He shifted, trying to ease the tightness in his chest as he sat at a light on his way to pick up Bobby. Why had he told his brother he would get him? Jack would have to hurry and make every light on his way to meet his client.

The light turned green and Jack sped on. Ten minutes later he pulled up in front of the garage where Bobby said he’d be, but his brother was nowhere in sight. Jack slammed his door shut, then hurried into the low brick building. A kid with a Mohawk greeted him at the counter.

“I’m looking for my brother. He just dropped his car off here.”

“Yeah, looks kind of like you. He ran across the street. Said he’d be right back.”

“Across the street?” Jack turned to look where the kid pointed. An adult novelty shop. Jack’s frustration burned into anger. “Thanks.”

He hurried across the street, running to avoid an approaching sixteen wheeler. Bobby’s platinum head was clearly visible through the wide front window of the shop. Jack entered to find his brother leaning over the counter flirting with the young woman behind it.

He turned as Jack entered. “Hey, big brother, this is Deloris. She says they’re having a sale on whips. You want one?”

“It’s time to go, Bobby. I have to make it to a meeting by one.”

Bobby groaned. “Sorry, Deloris, got to go. Maybe I could call you some time?”

“Bobby,” Jack said, putting the tone of authority into his voice that their father had used all those years ago and that Jack had perfected when he’d stepped in to fill his father’s shoes.

“A guy can’t have any fun around here anymore.” Bobby cast Deloris one more look filled with longing, then followed Jack to the door. “Your timing sucks.”

“You’re welcome,” Jack said as he slid into the car.

“Okay, thanks for giving me a ride.” Bobby grinned, oblivious to all but the pretty brunette as he craned his neck to catch one last glimpse.

“You can pick up where you left off when you come back to get your car,” Jack said.

“If she happens to be working then.”

“I have never known you to have trouble getting a date.”

“True.” Bobby cranked up the radio as Jack drove to his brother’s apartment.

A short while later Jack dropped off Bobby, then sped toward the interstate, his pulse pounding through the dull ache in his chest. The light ahead turned yellow. Jack floored it, rubbing his chest in an effort to relieve the growing pressure there.

The radio disc jockey announced the time and Jack swore. He was going to be late, even if he hit all green lights. He should call his client. Steering with one hand, he reached into his briefcase for the file with the client’s contact information. The file spilled as he yanked it from the briefcase, scattering its contents over the front seat and floor.

The ache radiated from his chest, with a sharpness that took his breath. Grimacing, he pressed his hand to his heart as the pain escalated to agonizing proportions.

A horn honked. He glanced up, then jerked the wheel hard to the right to avoid an oncoming car. The road veered off to the left as the car careened over the shoulder. He braked hard, fighting to maintain control of the wheel. All the while, he clutched his chest and gasped for breath through the bone-numbing pain.

His car hit an embankment and stopped. Adrenaline pounded through Jack as he peered at the back of the other car as it continued up the street, apparently unscathed. The pain eased, though his heart hammered and sweat beaded his brow.

That had been too close for comfort. He could have been killed.

This fatigue and these chest pains are your body’s way of warning you that all isn’t as it should be.

Jack bowed his head, his hands still gripping the wheel. Dr. Carmichael was right. Jack needed to cut back.

If he didn’t want to end up like his grandfather and father before him, he had to face that he could no longer be everything to everyone. It was time to help his family learn to stand on their own feet. Without him.

He’d been wrong not to take his condition seriously.

A FEW DAYS LATER, smoke curled from an oil burner on a shelf in the small but tidy shop. Jack wrinkled his nose, but the smell had a surprising appeal. Sunlight filtered through a window set above shelves of jars, boxes and packets of things he tried not to contemplate. He took in a deep incense-filled breath and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to relax.

“Chamomile.” A woman with rosy cheeks smiled from behind a stack of books. “It’s good for lots of things, like insomnia and stress.”

He nodded, not quite sure how to respond. He’d had his share of both in recent months, among other symptoms. He cleared his throat. “Do you have any books on alternative healing?”

“Sure.” She gestured for him to follow her between two book-filled aisles. “Here you go.”

He glanced at the assortment of titles. “I want something that’s more informational, not a how-to. I’m studying alternative healing methods—what they are.”

“I see.” She peered at him through narrowed eyes. “This is for your personal use as opposed to research, right?”

Unease rippled through him. “Yes.”

Her face split into a smile. “You’ll be okay. Spirit gives us only what we can handle.”

He laughed, a small strangled sound. Right, he could handle a bad heart and the near certainty of a shortened life. He rubbed his chest as though doing so might relieve the constant pressure there. “Thanks. Can you make a recommendation?”

“Is there a particular type of healing you’re interested in?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been to countless doctors. Have been poked, prodded and peered into more times than I care to admit.” He stopped.

Why was he telling her this? He hadn’t breathed a word to his family. Yet something about the woman put him at ease, loosened his tongue. “A good friend suggested that I look into alternatives. She mentioned several things. I’m not sure where to start.”

“Hmm, let’s see.” She ran her fingers across the book spines, muttering to herself. “Why don’t you try this one?”

He took the book and read the title. “The Beginner’s Guide to Alternative Healing Methods. I’m certainly a beginner.”

He scanned the contents page. “Acupuncture—I tried that last week. Aromatherapy—think I need something with a little more kick to it. Cellular release, etheric pulse—never heard of them. Hypnotherapy, reflexology, reiki—already have an appointment for that. Tantric healing—what’s that?”

“Oh, tantra could possibly be the most powerful healing of all.”

“Really?” He flipped to the section indicated, then drew back at the picture of a couple entwined in a lovers’ embrace. “Are they talking about sexual healing?”

“Like I said, one of the most powerful forms of healing. It’s an ancient practice.”

He stared at her. “You have to be joking.”

“Not at all.”

“But…people actually practice this?”

Her eyebrows arched. “Some do. I think I could help you find a local practitioner.”

“That’s okay. I’ll pass.” Lifting the book, he said, “I’ll take this and read up on some of this other stuff. Maybe I’ll find something helpful.”

He tamped down on the frustration that threatened to overwhelm him. He was grasping at straws. What would his family say if they could see him now?

As he followed the woman to the register, he shook his head. His poor mother would be even more confused than he’d already made her when he’d given her the number for a handyman. Jack had tried to ignore her hurt look when he’d insisted he didn’t have time to help her any more this week, but the guilt of letting her down and lying to her weighed heavily.

“Is that going to be all for you?” the woman asked.

“That’s it.”

The issue wasn’t so much his time but his need to help his family become more independent. Not to be there for them was just as hard on Jack. He’d been holding them all together for so long, he had to fight the urge to run to the rescue any time his mother needed something fixed or his brother needed advice. They had to learn to stand on their own feet, though.

What would they do if he wasn’t around?

The woman handed him a bag with the book in it. “Receipt’s inside.”

“Thank you.”

“It would do you a world of good.”

“I’m sorry—what would?”

“Tantra.”

“Oh, that. I don’t know. Seems a little…personal.”

“Any kind of healing is going to be tailored for the healee. This type of thing is no different.”

“It’s hard to imagine hiring a professional for something like that.”

“That’s not necessarily how it works.”

“How does it work then?”

“If you’re lucky, you meet a healer and enter into a relationship with her where she imparts her gift to you.”

He shook his head. “That takes care of that. I haven’t had much luck lately—at least, not what you’d call good.”

“But if you met a woman with the healing touch, you’d be open to it?”

“Maybe, but that sounds like something I might need to work my way up to. I’m a novice at all this alternative stuff. I’ve tried some of it, like I said, and I’m open to other options. Maybe I should try some—” he consulted the book “—hypnotherapy, then perhaps some reflexology. Maybe after all that I’ll look at the tantra and see if it seems any more appealing.”

“All that takes time. Can you afford to wait?”

A chill shot up his spine. Both his father and grandfather had been struck down in their prime. “I think so.”

Her expression was so full of doubt that he had to resist the urge to ask her if she knew something about him he should know. How nuts was that? Of course she didn’t know anything. She didn’t know him from Jack Sprat.

She leaned across the counter. “Not many know this, but there was a family right here in Miami where all the women inherited the gift of sexual healing.”

Again not sure how to respond, he nodded and she said, “I only know because I met the mother and one of the daughters. Must have been at least ten years ago. The daughter was just fourteen at the time and she was this quiet thing. Nothing like her sisters, according to the mother, but there was something about that child. She came in for some feng shui classes—” she gestured to a book leaning against the register “—and she had this presence. I have my own gift. I can tell things about a person. I sensed this powerful energy about her, so I wasn’t surprised when the mother, Maggie McClellan, hinted at the family background. They all have it. There’s an aunt, too—she comes in from time to time—but you’re closer in age to the daughters.”

“But even if I was interested in pursuing…that, which I’m not saying I am, what are my chances of meeting any of them?”

Her shoulders shifted beneath her loose cotton dress. “The aunt was in recently, so I believe they’re still around. Can’t be all that many McClellans in the area. What was that young one’s name…Evelyn? No, Erin McClellan, that’s it. She was an excellent student of feng shui. I’d be willing to bet she’s practicing it somewhere.”

“You’re suggesting that I look up this woman, strike up a relationship, see if she’s interested in sharing her ‘gift’ with me?”

“Something like that.”

He stared at her a moment in disbelief. How could she think such an insane plan would work? Only a desperate man would embark on such a mission.

“One step at a time. Thank you for the book. You have a good day.” He headed for the door, but she stopped him halfway there.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t take too long with that one-step-at-a-time stuff.”

He gave her a half smile, then continued on his way. His chest tightened and he rubbed it. He had time. The one thing he wasn’t was a desperate man.

2

“YOU ARE A DESPERATE MAN.” Amanda Barnes, Jack’s good friend, power walked over a pile of seaweed and regarded him through narrowed eyes. Beyond her, white clouds drifted past a pale blue sky.

He inhaled a breath of salt-tinged air and lengthened his stride to keep pace with her, though the tightening in his chest increased with the effort. “I went there because you told me to go.”

“And you do everything I say?”

“Not normally.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not saying that I’m even thinking about taking this woman’s advice, but I thought you’d have an opinion on tantra.”

A wave crashed along the shore beside them and she swerved to avoid the spray, her short blond hair swinging. “I think tantra is a good thing. I don’t know much about it except that it involves different positions and meditations.”

“Can you see me approaching one of these women? What would I say? ‘Please excuse me, miss, but I’m looking for a good sexual healer. I was wondering, might you be available?”

“I’ll bet that you could find someone online who would schedule through drop-down menus.”

“Is that legal?”

She shrugged. “They’re not selling sex. They’re selling sexual healing. It’s not the same. I’m sure any decent lawyer could establish the difference. Besides, you don’t really want to find a healer online. You need to meet her in person. Where did this bookseller say you could find these women?”

“She said one of the daughters’ names is Erin McClellan and she’d be around twenty-four and she studied feng shui when she was younger. The woman thought Erin would be practicing it now and I could find her that way.”

“You know, I might have heard something about this. What was that last name again?”

“McClellan.”

“If this is what I’m thinking, they could be the real thing, truly gifted. Not just tantra, but something…more.”

“You’ve actually heard of them?” he asked.

“I have this friend from yoga class who knows a guy whose roommate’s brother may have dated a McClellan. Don’t know if she had any sisters or not, but how many sexual healers can there be?”

He pressed his hand to his chest. “I never said I was looking for one of them.”

“Why not?”

Stopping, he stared at her in disbelief. “You said I was desperate for mentioning it.”

She circled back beside him and her brown eyes took on a serious light. She nodded to where his hand pressed against his chest. “Your symptoms are getting worse. Look at you, we’ve hardly gone a quarter of a mile and you’re winded. Your best option at this point is surgery that may or may not fix your heart, if you survive it. I’d say you’re pretty desperate.”

He scowled and started walking at a slower pace. His cell phone sounded. Without stopping, he answered it. “Hello?”

“Jack, it’s Aunt Rose. Have you got a minute?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“The computer keeps locking up. Do you have time to look at it?”

“Did you ask Bobby?” he asked, slanting Amanda a glance.

“He ran a virus check and did a few other things, but it’s still not right. You know he can’t fix these things the way you can.”

“Okay, I’ll try to stop by sometime over the next few days. I’ll call you.” He said goodbye, ignoring Amanda’s look of censure.

“Jack, you gave in way too easy that time,” she chided.

“It’s just a computer.”

“You can’t continue to be everything to everybody. You’re so busy taking care of all of them, you’re not looking out for number one. You don’t need the extra pressure now. What happened to your plan to help them become less dependent on you?”

“I’m easing them into it. At least this time she called Bobby first. They’re trying.”

Amanda frowned. “Fine, but we still need to get you better.”

“Not to worry. There are plenty of other alternative-healing methods I haven’t tried. That book listed ones I don’t think you know about.”

“Did you schedule with that reiki master?”

“I went this morning,” he said.

“And?”

“It was very peaceful and relaxing, but I didn’t feel the earth move.”

“It’s not like that.”

“She said the reiki would continue to work for a while longer and that my energies were more balanced, whatever that means.” He glanced at her. “She said my heart chakra—some kind of energy-center thing—was closed or deunified or something and that was partly why I was having trouble.”

He spread his arms in appeal. “I don’t get all this energy talk. Maybe I should stick to conventional medicine. I have a physical defect in my arterial valve. How will balancing my energies or channeling some life force or whatever she was doing help that?”

“It’s all connected. What affects the emotional body impacts the physical body, as well as the etheric and so forth,” Amanda said.

He frowned at her. The woman was nuts. Why was he listening to her?

She raised her hands. “All I’m saying is that unresolved emotional issues manifest as physical illness.”

“Besides the fact that all that mumbo jumbo sounds a little flaky, this is more a defect than an illness.”

“Still, it’s worth a shot.”

“You think I should find one of these McClellan women and strike up a relationship?” he asked.

“It beats hiring a sexual healer off the Internet.”

A sail moved along the horizon. A gull screeched overhead. The hammering of his heart echoed in his ears. He stopped again. “You think it might work?”

She wiped a bead of perspiration from her forehead. “This woman healed my friend’s friend’s roommate’s brother of emphysema. His doctor took before-and-after X-rays of his lungs. It was unheard of. The whole thing was documented in some obscure medical journal. And he wasn’t the only one. Apparently she has a following of men she’s healed. They all adore her and each swears she’s healed them in one way or another.”

“You sure you didn’t read that in the Enquirer?”

Her eyebrows arched. “Yes, I’m sure. She healed him, Jack. You have to find her or one of her sisters, if that’s the case. Maybe we can Google the one who does feng shui.”

“Google her?”

“If she’s practicing feng shui, I’ll bet she has a Web site.”

“And what would I say to her if we were to find her?”

“You’d just introduce your charming self and let nature run its course.”

“I don’t know. The whole thing sounds ludicrous.”

“Hold on.” She pulled her flip phone from her pocket, opened it, then punched a few buttons.

“I’ll bet my friend George can get some information. He’s still good friends with— Oh, here’s his voice mail…Hey, George, it’s Amanda. Listen, I’m trying to get the scoop on the woman who healed that guy’s emphysema. Was her last name McClellan? You know the one who has the gift of sexual healing? Can you talk to your friend and see if he can get an update on her and her family from his roommate’s brother? I was hoping you could help me locate her or one of her sisters if she has any. Okay, so call me when you have something. Thanks, I owe you.”

She hung up and smiled at him. “There, we’ll have you all set in no time.”

A feeling of apprehension settled over him. God, he was a desperate man.

SUNLIGHT FELL THROUGH a skylight onto Erin’s desk in her design studio. She sighed and flipped through the stack of invoices she’d been ignoring for the past week. There was no more putting it off. It was time to balance her accounts.

A whisper of movement sounded and she started, then stared. A blond stranger stepped into the sunlight spilling around her desk. He was tall and lean, his eyes dark and intense.

Her heart pounded. “Goodness, you scared me.”

He gestured toward the front. “Oh, sorry. The bell jingled, but you must not have heard.” Moving forward, he extended his hand. “I’m Jack Langston and I’m guessing you’re Erin McClellan.”

She rose, taking his hand as she moved around the desk. A shock of warmth spread through her at the contact. “Yes, I’m Erin. Guess I’ve been a little too absorbed in balancing my accounts. Or at least trying to.” She laughed, the sound seeming strained to her own ears.

He seemed to fill the splash of sunlight as though he was part of it—an angel sent to taunt her with his beauty. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Langston.”

“The pleasure’s mine. Please call me Jack. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You have? Then do you mind if I ask who referred you?”

“I didn’t catch her name. She owns a little shop down in Coconut Grove. It’s called the Emperor’s Attic.”

“The Emperor’s Attic?” Unease gripped her.

“I believe she was the owner. She’s certainly worked there a long time. She spoke highly of you…and your family.”

“My family? What did she say about my family?” Her mind raced. She hadn’t been there in ages, but her unconventional relatives no doubt still frequented the metaphysical bookstore.

Jack straightened. “Mostly she talked about how well known you are for your work with feng shui.”

“But you said she talked about my family.” A faint roaring sounded in her ears. She tried to breathe, but it felt as if a weight pressed her chest.

“Isn’t this a family business?”

“No, this is my interior-design business. I don’t work with feng shui anymore.” A myriad of emotions swamped her. She leaned against her desk to steady herself. What was wrong with her?

“You don’t?” He frowned. “Why not?”

“I’ve decided to pursue a more mainstream clientele.”

“Mainstream?” A note of disbelief colored his voice.

“Mr. Langston, I’m not sure what you’ve heard about me or my family, but I assure you I run a very respectable business here.” Who was this man to question her in this way?

“I don’t doubt that, Ms. McClellan, but I don’t see anything disrespectable about feng shui. I’m no expert, but it seems quite a good number of upstanding citizens swear by it.”

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. I have simply chosen not to practice that type of design anymore. I find my business has picked up significantly since I decided to go with the more conventional mode of interior design.”

“But you would take on a job for a paying client if he wanted you to use your knowledge of feng shui?” He moved a step closer.

The tumult of emotions clamored inside her. She pressed her lips together to keep from crying out. He caused this tangle of feelings. Was this the empathic nature her family spoke of?

Well, they could have it.

“Are you such a client?” she asked.

He met her steady gaze. “Yes, I believe I am.”

“You’re saying you’re interested in feng shui?”

“That’s right. I have a condo on the intercoastal. It needs—” he gestured lamely “—some of that stuff.”

“Feng shui is more a philosophy than a collection of ‘stuff.’”

“Right. I need your expertise on how to bring that philosophy into my home.”

“And are you familiar with it then, Mr. Langston?”

“Jack.”

“Okay, Jack, what do you know about feng shui?”

“It’s the philosophy of…how energy—” he wiggled his hand through the air “—moves through space…and how you can arrange a living area…to promote harmony, balance and well-being.” He smiled triumphantly.

A shock—a connection—ran between them. She stood for a moment, not breathing as the turmoil inside her subsided and a feeling of well-being wrapped around her. She fisted her hands, fighting the outrageous urge to touch him.

Then she glanced away. Whoever he was, the feelings he stirred in her were anything but normal. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“Why not?” He stepped even closer to her.

For an instant she thought he might grab her. A thrill shot through her and she chastised herself for the unwanted reaction. “My schedule is full. I’m not currently accepting new clients.”

“Maybe if you saw my place, you’d feel inspired. It’s a great condo.”

“No doubt.”

“And if I wanted to hire you for some regular interior-design work, would you be available?”

She stared at him a long moment, a strange sense of longing filling her. But he’d come from the Emperor’s Attic. He was interested in feng shui. He knew a little about her family.

And she was attracted to him.

“I’ve already told you that my schedule is full,” she finally said.

Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Very well, Erin.” He handed her one of his business cards. “In case you change your mind.”

She took his card and extended her hand. “Thank you for stopping by.” His hand was warm and firm. The odd sense of well-being blanketed her. Her chest tightened with regret. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“Are you?”

She let go of his hand, but the connection stretched between them. “Yes, Jack, I am.”

He nodded toward the card in her hand. “You know how to reach me.”

She refrained from comment as he turned and walked away.

Several hours later, Erin rubbed her eyes, then focused again on the numbers in the spreadsheet. Damn, she hadn’t realized she was cutting things so close this month.

And she’d turned away a paying customer.

Thoughts of Jack Langston assailed her, as they had numerous times since he’d left. It would be best to stay away from that one. The man was anything but conventional. Her life had already been one unconventional mess after another.

While Erin was growing up, her mother had dragged her and her sisters from lover to lover, home to home. The rootless existence had taken its toll on Erin. In her teens, she had delved into feng shui in an attempt to bring some order to the standard chaos of their temporary living arrangements, but no sooner would she make a place livable then they’d be off to Maggie’s next lover.

When Erin had been old enough, she’d escaped to live with her sisters. They had stayed in one place, but with Nikki’s night creepers and Tess’s minions, though, Erin had traded one circus for another. More than anything now she needed normal, and Jack did not fit that bill.

The bell on her door jingled and she jumped, her heart speeding the way it had when Jack Langston had appeared beside her desk earlier.

She groaned inwardly as Tess headed toward her, their oldest sister, Nikki, in tow. Both bore looks of determination. Erin braced herself as they stopped, arms crossed, before her.

“Okay, miss, it’s quitting time. You’re coming with us.” Tess glanced at Nikki for confirmation.

“That’s right, Erin. We’re stealing you away. No arguments,” Nikki said. “We haven’t seen enough of you lately and Mason and Dylan are both tied up, so Tess and I are on our own for the night. The timing couldn’t be better.”

Erin eyed them warily. “Better for what?”

“Ladies’ night.” Tess grabbed Erin’s purse from the back of her chair. “Let’s go. If we hurry, we can make happy hour.”

“Wait a minute. Since when are the two of you so anxious to hit happy hour? Nikki, you hate clubbing. And Tess, you’d be asking for trouble by setting foot in a bar. What is this really about?”

“We want to spend some time with you. Why does it have to be about anything more than that?” Nikki’s eyes filled with censure.

“I don’t feel like going to a bar. Why don’t we go to a nice restaurant instead? Someplace we can actually hear each other.” Erin said.

“Okay.” Tess slung Erin’s purse over her own shoulder and headed for the door. “Let’s go to that little place in South Beach.”

“Wait, come back with my purse.” Erin hurried after her. “What place in South Beach?”

“That place that Josh discovered that he likes so well.”

“What place? You are talking about a restaurant, right?”

“Come on. We’ll have fun. When was the last time we had a girls’ night out?” Nikki asked.

Unease rippled along Erin’s spine. Something was fishy about this whole thing. She dug in her heels, but Tess pushed through the door. Groaning, Erin followed.

3

TWENTY MINUTES LATER Erin stared up at the neon sign in disbelief. “B.E.D? What kind of place is this?”

“It’s the hottest club in Miami. You really should get out more.” Tess moved around the long line outside the club and waved three VIP passes at the doorman, who motioned her through the large double doors.

“I thought we were going to a nice restaurant.” Erin raised her voice over the music pounding from inside.

Nikki shrugged. “Tess set her mind on this, and you know how she is. There was no talking her out of it. You’re right about one thing. Mason will blow a gasket when he hears she came here. Look, they’re already starting to flock.”

Indeed, Tess had already drawn a small group of male admirers as she stopped to wait for her sisters. Erin folded her arms. “I’m not doing this.”

“Yes, you are.” Tess turned to Erin and looped her arm through hers. “Here she is, boys, my sister Erin. Who’s going to buy her a drink?”

“Tess.” Erin glared first at the men, who dropped back, then at her sister as Tess dragged her through another set of doors.

Green and pink lights flashed throughout a cavernous area swarming with hopeful singles. Erin blinked through the smoky haze. “Good God, are those beds?”

“Complete with plush pillows.” One of the men from Tess’s flock smiled at her, his teeth unnaturally white—or was that the fluorescent lighting? “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?” Erin asked.

He gestured toward the nearest bed, where several people lay sprawled in various positions, some propped on what indeed appeared to be plush pillows. One couple’s limbs were so entwined, she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other started.

Gritting her teeth, she turned to Tess. “What the hell are we doing here?”

“Don’t get upset.” Nikki stepped between the two. “Let’s sit and see if we can’t have some fun. It isn’t like we’ve never been clubbing before. What’s everyone drinking?”

Erin gestured around her. “This isn’t a club. It’s a meat market.”

“You want to know what tonight is?” Tess asked, her eyes wide. “This is an intervention.”

Erin blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been moping around too much lately.” Nikki shooed a man over and made room for the three of them on the bed. “Come on, sit beside me. Look at all the lovely men.”

“Pick one,” Tess said. “It’s time to get back on the horse.”

Erin glared at her.

Nikki touched Erin’s arm. “We’re just worried about you since that thing with Ryan.”

“I have written off men,” Erin said as she perched on the edge of the massive mattress.

“Good thing we planned this intervention then.” Tess signaled a waitress over.

Her eyes filled with concern, Nikki leaned toward Erin while Tess ordered drinks for all of them. “Sweetie, I know you’ve been a little unhappy lately, but there’s no reason for such drastic action. You can’t swear off men. You’re a McClellan. You’ll put Aunt Sophie in her grave, not to mention what Maggie will say when she hears about it.”

“This has nothing to do with Aunt Sophie or our mother,” Erin said. “I don’t expect the two of you to understand.”

Tess sank onto one of the pillows. “I get it. You jumped into the love arena and got hurt, so you’re hesitant to get back in there. Completely understandable, but it’ll all work out. This kind of thing happens all the time. Even to us. Right, Nikki?”

Nikki nodded. “But we worked through it and so can you, Erin.”

“I hate to disappoint the two of you, but there isn’t anyone for me to work things through with. And there isn’t going to be.” Erin’s gaze drifted over the cluster of men standing a few feet away, waiting for the smallest encouragement.

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Nikki said. “All we wanted was to let you know that we think you’re making a mistake. Maybe this isn’t the right time or place for you to find a great guy. Maybe you’ll find him in a nice restaurant or maybe one of these days he’ll waltz through your shop door. The point is that you should never give up. It’ll be worth it, and in time you’ll laugh about swearing off men.”

Maybe one of these days he’ll waltz through your shop door.

Nikki’s words sent goose bumps running up Erin’s arms. Hadn’t a great guy walked through her door earlier that day? And what had she done? She’d sent him on his way. “It wouldn’t matter.”

“What do you mean?” Tess asked.

The memory of Jack Langston’s intent gaze warmed Erin. When he had looked at her today, it had been as if he had really seen her in a way no one ever had. He’d been like some otherworldly phantom with his sudden appearance.

She let her gaze drift again over the hopefuls: one built like a linebacker, with vivid green eyes; one as toned and buff as any bodybuilder, an intelligence in his eyes that might have intrigued her in the past; and one with a bright smile hinting at a playfulness that might have appealed to her at another time.

A time before meeting Jack.

“I don’t know how to explain,” she finally said.

Nikki squeezed her hand. “Try, hon. Is it about the gift?”

She should just tell them. But how could she say she rejected the gift and all it stood for without making them feel she rejected them? She’d been hard-pressed to spend time with her sisters lately. She couldn’t shake her disappointment that they’d fallen in with their mother’s ways.

Finally she said. “It doesn’t matter. I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but I really don’t want a man in my life right now.”

Nikki nodded. “Well, we had to try. Maybe you just need a little time.”

Time. Would that make any difference? If only she hadn’t had to turn Jack away. He’d been interested in more than a feng shui consultation. Her empathic nature might not be as well developed as either of her sisters’, but she could tell that much.

“Okay, so if you’re not going to dance with any of the men here, the least we can do is enjoy our drinks.” Tess passed them umbrella-topped glasses. She lifted her glass high. “To love and finding it in unexpected places.”

“To love.” Nikki clinked her glass first to Tess’s, then Erin’s.

Erin nodded, then took a tentative sip, a sense of loss filling her. To love? How had Typhoid Mary fared in that arena?

“HI, THOMAS, IS AUNT SOPHIE here?” Erin peered past her longtime family friend the following afternoon as she stood in the open door of her aunt’s house.

She hadn’t had any appointments that morning and had finished packing her apartment. Her new home was ready. The movers would arrive in the morning.

“She and your mother are in Fort Lauderdale at a seminar.”

“Oh.” Disappointment filled her. If this was anything like previous healing seminars they’d been to, it would keep them tied up for the rest of the day. “I just thought I’d visit.”

“What am I, chopped liver?”

“I would love to visit with you.” She laughed in spite of herself.

Thomas had always been able to lighten her mood. Too bad Maggie hadn’t ever hooked up with him. He’d have made a better father to Erin and her sisters than any of the men who had drifted in and out of her mother’s life.

His smile warmed her as he led her back to the brightly lit kitchen. He motioned her to the table and headed for the coffeepot. “I was just taking a break.”

“What are you working on?”

“Stopped by to finish some lighting in Maggie’s new studio. It helps her…the light is…getting to be a problem.”

Her throat tightened. She still struggled with accepting the fact that her mother was slowly going blind. “So how is she?”

“She’s a trooper, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I don’t want to interrupt your work.”

He placed a cup of coffee in front of her and sat down across from her with his own. “Nonsense. Take a break with me. You didn’t come here to talk about Maggie.”

Guilt swamped her. “I do want to talk about her. I’m concerned about her, Thomas.”

“She knows that, but she doesn’t want you to be. She’s adamant that we all keep the status quo. She’s even continuing to paint. We’ve set up her studio so she can find everything by feel when the time comes. The other day she tried a practice run with a blindfold.”

Erin’s stomach twisted at the thought of Maggie painting blindfolded. “She can’t be serious about continuing with her painting. Not after…”

“She is.” He shrugged. “At least for now. I think it’s important to support her in whatever she’s doing to deal with this.”

“But it seems so…hopeless.”

“Not to your mother, and the last thing she needs from any of us is discouragement.” He poured sugar into his cup. “The best thing you can do for her is to not show her how worried you are.”

She nodded.

“So?” He leaned toward her. “I live close enough that I know you girls show up on your aunt’s doorstep when you have some trouble to chew over with her.”

“Compared to Maggie, how can I complain?”

“I’m all ears.”

“I’m having a little trouble with all this. You know, the healing stuff, the McClellan gift.”

“You mean the sexual healing.”

Heat tinged her cheeks. “Is it wrong for me to want to have a normal life? To not feel that I need to have a man around?”

“I’ve heard some of this—about your plan to move off on your own and give up men. They’re all in an uproar, aren’t they?”

“I knew when I told Nikki and Tess that I was moving word would spread.”

“You didn’t need that big place all to yourself. Makes sense. When’s the big day?”

“Tomorrow. I don’t have much. It shouldn’t be too bad.” She sipped her coffee. “Nikki and Tess dragged me out to pick up men last night. It was a total disaster.”

“You really want to be all on your own?”

“Yes, I don’t want a man in my life. I don’t need one.”

He shrugged and drank from his mug. “I think a girl’s entitled to date or not date. They’ll get over it eventually.”

“Exactly. I choose if and when I date, just like I choose whether or not to work with any client in particular.”

“Do you pick and choose your clients?”

Her stomach tightened. Why had she mentioned that? “Well, I’ve always been grateful for any clients that come my way. I’ve never turned one down…until yesterday.”

“You turned down a client?”

“He wanted a consultation on feng shui. I don’t do that anymore. I have the right to pursue a more conventional career, don’t I?”

“Of course you do, Erin, but since when did you decide that you didn’t like feng shui anymore?”

“Since I decided to get serious about establishing myself in interior design. My business has really picked up.”

“Enough for you to turn away a potential client?”

“I’m making more, but I seem to be spending more, too.” She shifted in her seat. “He can find someone else to help him.”

“Sure he can, but no one does feng shui like you do, hon.”

“Like I did.”

“So you plan to live a conventional, man-free life.”

“Exactly. What’s the problem with that? What can I do to get my family to respect my decision?”

“I don’t know.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Your personal life is one thing, but it seems a little unconventional, not to mention unprofessional, to turn down a paying customer. It’s not the way I’d advise you to run your business.”

He was right. It was bad business to turn away a customer, especially during a lean month. Yet the thought of working with Jack Langston gave her a distinctly disquieted feeling. She was just too attracted to the man.

Thomas leaned back and cocked his head. “It’s a guess, but I’d say this potential customer was just such a young man to test your new no-man vow.”

She stared at him a moment. How could he possibly know? “I never said I wouldn’t have men as clients.”

“But you turned down this man.”

“He wanted feng shui.”

“Is that all he wanted?”

“Yes. He didn’t come on to me, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Her cheeks warmed. Jack may not have come on to her, but her gut told her he had wanted to.

“But you wanted him to, and that was a problem for some reason.”

“I did not.”

“Oh, okay, my mistake.” He carried his cup to the sink. “Would you like more coffee?”

“No, thank you.” Erin stared at her half-finished cup. “I’d better let you get back to work. I need to head to the shop myself.”

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll let Sophie know you stopped by.”

She moved beside him. “Thanks, Thomas, I enjoyed the coffee.”

“Don’t be afraid to embrace who you are, Erin. You come from an extraordinary family. Each of you is very different and you should accept and celebrate those differences, just like you should celebrate the similarities.”

A short laugh burst from her. “Right, like I have so much in common with the rest of them.”

“I’m betting you have more in common than you realize. Maybe it’s just tucked away a little bit, but it’s there.”

“You think so?”

He walked her to the door. “Yes, I do. No reason not to.”

“Thanks, Thomas.” She kissed his cheek as he held the door. “Tell Maggie I’ll give her a call.”

She headed to her car, his words rolling through her mind.

I’d say this potential customer was just such a young man to test your new no-man vow.

He’d hit the mark. Maybe if she had a little more in common with her family then she wouldn’t have to close herself off from romantic relationships.

She slipped behind her wheel and sighed. Her lack of the gift was one thing she couldn’t bring herself to celebrate. It wasn’t fair. Nikki had Dylan and Tess had Mason. Even Maggie had Thomas in a way.

Erin glanced at the house. Why was it that Thomas and her mother had never hooked up romantically? The two were like intricate pieces to a puzzle. One would never be whole without the other.

Thomas loved her mother. Everyone knew that, probably even Maggie. Was that why she’d never encouraged a sexual relationship with him? Did she fear that once they became lovers she would be destined to move on and leave him behind, the way she had with all her past lovers?

The thought comforted Erin in an odd way. Was it possible she could have a Thomas in her life? She pulled out Jack’s card from her wallet.

Could Jack be her Thomas?

She pressed her hand to her face. One thing was for certain—her bottom line was suffering too much to make this decision. She’d been foolish to turn down a paying job.

Simple, clear fonts accentuated Jack’s card. Information-Security Investigator. Some kind of techie, no doubt. She stared at the number until it blurred. Would he be willing to settle for a standard interior-design job? She’d never know if she didn’t call him.

With her heart thudding, she carefully pressed his number on her cell phone. His phone rang once, twice, then a third time. His soft baritone vibrated along the line, caressing her ear. “Jack Langston here.”

“Jack, good afternoon, this is Erin McClellan. You stopped by my design studio yesterday.”

“Erin,” he said, his voice lightening. “What a happy surprise. How are you?”

Her pulse pounded in her ears and she was sixteen again, asking Dale Stone to the Sadie Hawkins dance. “I’m doing well. Did I get you at a good time?”

“Perfect, I’m on my way to a meeting.”

“Oh, what kind of meeting?” She rolled her eyes at her own evident stalling.

“The usual. Helping some corporate information-security team figure out how their system was breached. They usually have their own protocol in these cases, but they tend to miss things. That’s when they call me.”

She bit her lip. “Oh, that must be really interesting.”

“I enjoy it. Keeps me busy.”

She nodded, at a loss as to how to continue. She was an idiot for calling.

“So not that I’m complaining, but I’m sure you have a reason for this call.”

“Yes, of course.” Her face warmed. “I just…I was thinking I may have been…” She inhaled a deep breath, then took the plunge. “My schedule has cleared some and I was wondering if you still needed a designer?”

A long silence hummed across the phone. She frowned. “Jack?”

“Hello, Erin? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you.”

“Sorry, I lost you for a minute.”

“Oh, I was saying that my schedule has cleared—”

“Yes, I heard that. That’s great news. I would love it if you could work me in.”

“Great.” She let out a shaky breath.

“I respect your feelings in that you favor interior design over feng shui and I think we can work something out.”

“I’m sure we can.”

“How about this? We’ll start with a more traditional theme, one in keeping with your interior-design methods, but you’ll work in the feng shui as you see fit. Surely that can be done, can’t it?”

Her stomach tightened. “I suppose it could.”

“My guess is that the two would complement each other.”

She pursed her lips. “They’re really two different philosophies.”

“Which is what makes you such a unique choice. I can’t imagine where else I could find a designer who is also first in the fine art of feng shui.”

“Not everyone has the same appreciation for it. I always felt it was important to strengthen my training with the more well-known aspects of interior design.”

“And it looks like I’m to benefit. I’ll have the best of both worlds.”

“I wouldn’t claim to be the best, Jack, but I will give you my best effort.”

“Which is all it takes to be the best.”

She sat a moment in silence. Had she let him talk her into giving him a feng shui consultation? “I’ll e-mail you the standard contract.”

“That would be really great, Erin. I can’t tell you how excited I am that you’ve agreed to take me on as a client.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Great,” he said. “Why don’t you come by my condo, say around seven?”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, is that okay? I’m anxious to get started.”

She paused for a few seconds, assessing. “I’ll be there.”

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