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"Well, since your brother came home last week … I'd say the phone rings once every couple of hours," she said wryly. "Sooner or later I figure they'll quit, but it seems right now their curiosity is at an all-time high. And I hate to admit this, but I'm afraid I'm a big disappointment to your family. They keep hoping for some nice, juicy dirt and scandal, and I think they're disgusted with me. I'm not coming through."

  "Annie, tell your mom that she's supposed to tell me what people are giving her a hard time. What good's a husband if he can't slay some dragons for you now and then?"

  "Annie, tell him that husbands are good for going out to dinner."

  "Yeah, Tiny, well, I'm just waiting for you to name the place. What's your poison? Lobster, steak? You want soft lights and quiet, or some live music and a little razzle-dazzle—?" When the phone jangled again, Mac wagged a finger at her. "I'll get it this time."

  Kelly watched him bark a "hello" into the phone, obviously prepared to tear a strip off the hide of any further nosy relatives … and then noted with amusement when his expression changed. Dryly he handed her the phone. "It's Kate. And she wants you." To Annie, he murmured, "Cripes, there went my credibility as a dragon slayer. And nobody wants me anymore. They all want your mom."

  She was still chuckling as she fended the call from Mac's great-aunt. This one wasn't quite so intrusive and only lasted a few minutes—just long enough for her pancakes to get cold, although she dove right back in again.

  "I'd hate to kill Kate," Mac admitted. "She's been damn good to me, but if she's part of this gossip brigade—"

  "No, no. She just asked me for lunch next week. At Fortune's. She wants me to bring the baby in to show her off. And rather than put Annie through a restaurant setup, she's going to order lunch in her office."

  "Knowing Kate, she's envisioning starting another generation of Fortunes early. Although maybe she suggested that lunch for another reason—like about you." His gaze suddenly rested for a long moment on her face. He could still make her flush, even after a week of long, wonderful nights together. By day she might run around smelling of baby powder, wearing jeans and no makeup, but he made her feel like an entirely different woman when the lights went off. "Kelly, are you getting tired of staying home? You always seemed to love working for Kate. And God knows, she sang your praises upstairs and down about how terrific you were."

  "Actually she already asked me to do a gala thing—a press party for a new line of skincare. But that's in July. I'm thinking about it. To be honest, I really don't want to be away from Annie. I don't want to miss any of these moments of her first months and first years if I don't have to. But if Kate just comes up with just an occasional project she wants me to handle … I don't know, Mac. What do you think? Would you have a problem with my working?"

  "I don't have a problem as long as you're happy. But Jack's been giving me advice. He says nonstop baby care is too exhausting and you might need a break from it. Of course Jack's divorced, so his advice about women and new moms might not be the best in town."

  She chuckled. "I don't need a break. But maybe I will some months down the road. Right now there's so much I want to do. I haven't even been back to my old apartment to get my summer clothes, or to do anything about closing the place up."

  "No hurry. The rent's paid up. Nothing needs to be done."

  Kelly felt a restless qualm. The new intimacy between them had been more than she ever dreamed of and then some. But while she was sleeping in Mac's bed, her clothes still hung in the closet in her old bedroom. And though she'd mentioned a willingness to get rid of her old apartment, this was the second time Mac assured her that the lease was paid, as if it were okay with him if she kept the place. Both issues made her worry that Mac still didn't see their marriage as a real one—or that he didn't want the relationship to be permanent. "If Annie and I get some free time today, we just might throw out that pink couch."

  "Annie, tell your mother I have another idea. She can decorate the rest of the room in pink, and then the couch will fit in, and then she'll quit yanking my chain about it … are you going to go to that lunch with Kate?"

  "Yes. It sounds like fun." And she had to grin about his bulldog attitude on the damn couch. It was the only long-running argument they had. Both seemed to enjoy the teasing bickering too much to solve the silly problem. She also felt reassured—at least for now, he was surely not tired of her if he was still being stubborn about keeping the couch.

  "I'll have Benz drive you. What day is this lunch?"

  "Tuesday. But I don't want Benz stuck sitting in a car for two hours. It's just silly. I can drive myself."

  Mac glanced at his watch, wiped his mouth with a napkin and dropped a kiss on his daughter's brow as he stood up. Kelly stood, too, automatically walking him to the door and reaching out to fix his tie. Like an old married couple, she thought. Or almost.

  "Benz loves driving you," Mac said. "It's good for him, besides. He's getting older and doesn't want to admit it. He starts doing physical chores around here and won't say quit. If he's driving you somewhere, it's an easy break for him—"

  "You're still trying to wrap me in cotton wool, husband. But I'm not waddling pregnant anymore. And I'm not as naïve as I used to be about safety. And we were just talking about my doing an occasional work project for Kate—"

  "But that's months away. And she's as obsessive-compulsive about safety as I am."

  She nodded. After fixing his tie knot, she picked a nonexistent fleck of lint from his navy suit jacket, then followed through with the rest of their new morning ritual by roping her arms around his neck. His head was already cocked, mouth slanted to meet hers, take hers. She mined his lips for a treasuring taste of pancakes and coffee and him. It was magic. Every time. Tension electrified his body, then hers. Need rose up like a volcano of vital, hot, shimmering desire. His hands swept down her spine, cupping her bottom, body parts he surely knew he owned now, yet still it was new. This feeling of belonging to him. This feeling of wanting so sharp it took away her breath—and his, too. When Mac lifted his head, those cool gray-green eyes of his weren't cool anymore.

  "Were we arguing?" he murmured.

  "Yes."

  "Did I win this one or did you?"

  "Me."

  "You always say that. You're turning into a bossy, manipulative woman, Tiny. You know damn well kissing you turns my mind to mush."

  "Oh, well," she murmured, and made him chuckle. But only for a second.

  His forehead puckered in a serious frown. "Maybe I am a little obsessive-compulsive about the driving. But I just can't seem to entirely forget that guy who attacked you."

  "Neither can I," she admitted honestly. "But that's exactly why I've had enough of this coddling. It's been months. I need to get over it. Being careful is one thing, but building up fears that there could be danger in every shadow is goofy. I need to get out and do some things alone."

  "All right. I hear you. I just … I need to know you're safe, Kel."

  She knew he worried about it. Too much. But once he left and she turned to the breakfast dishes, a sudden lump welled in her throat. The irony hit her—between security systems and protection and pagers, she really couldn't possibly feel more physically safe. The only place in her life she felt unsafe was with Mac.

  Increasingly she felt shaky, as if her heart were on shifting sands with nothing solid in sight. Sex had changed everything. She'd made love with him freely, given herself freely, never to tie Mac to her. That was the story she'd sold herself, but it was a lie. She'd hoped it would matter. She'd hoped that chemistry would add up on top of everything else—the baby, the baby's birth, the honest relationship they'd both worked hard to build together.

  She'd always known that she was nothing like the tall, sophisticated women he'd taken out who were savvy in the business world. But she wanted to believe that she was good for him. He laughed so much more. He'd loosened up, was starting to share problems and feelings, and she really had no doubt the chemistry was powerf
ul for both of them. But none of that was enough to snare his desire for a real marriage. Not unless he felt the right kind of love.

  He'd married her from a sense of responsibility. She knew that. But possibly that dreadful character trait was infectious, because now she felt responsible—and honor bound—to not force a tie if it didn't make him happy. Their time together was good. But Kelly sensed that something needed to happen, and soon, because neither would be content in this precarious place of an "almost marriage" for much longer.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  «^»

  Kelly slipped into red high heels and stood up with a wince. Flats would be more comfortable. Wearing heels for a dinner out with Mac was fun, but just going to lunch with Kate didn't seem worth the discomfort. On the other hand, she'd looked like an unkempt pregnant whale the last time she'd walked into the Fortune Company lobby. And her navy dress with the red piping really spiffed up with the red heels.

  She glanced at her daughter, who was vigorously waving her fists from the middle of the bed. "So what do you think of the shoes, Annie? Should we go for sensible or vote for vanity?"

  Annie, being born female, seemed to express more enthusiasm for the vanity vote. Kelly concurred, figuring the two of them would be sitting most of the time anyway. Still wearing the heels, she was just plugging ruby studs into her ears when the telephone jingled.

  "Mollie!" Kelly sank on the bed with one hand idly playing with the baby. "It's about time we caught up. I tried to reach you a couple of days ago, but all I got was your answering machine. I was worried … the last time we talked, you said you were trying to work out a problem—"

  "I got a couple of new wedding jobs to bid on, so I've just been running nonstop. But I started worrying how you were doing, too. You too busy to talk?"

  "I'm going to lunch with Kate—taking Annie—but I don't need to leave for another few minutes. You okay with that problem you were dealing with?" Kelly asked.

  "Not okay. But I know what I want to do. It's just taking some time to work up to it. You try and bury a problem, it just festers, you know? And like my mom always used to say, if something really matters to you, you can't win anything sitting on the sidelines. You have to go for the gusto … I'll tell you more about that later. Right now—how's our princess?"

  "The princess is dressed befitting royalty. A pink sleeper with white satin bows, her hair brushed into a curl, rattle matching her pink outfit … of course, the drool kind of spoils the effect, but what can you do? And I'm taking three other outfits to this lunch because I know how fast she goes through them. But temporarily, she's blowing bubbles and looking incredibly elegant."

  Mollie laughed. "I love it when you talk about her. You're really loving being a mom, Kel."

  "Every minute. Even the no-sleep and the colicky minutes." For just an instant Kelly squeezed her eyes closed. "I just wish my mom were here to see her."

  "Yeah, I miss my mom, too. All the time. We fought too much about dumb things, like curfews and makeup and boys. But it didn't matter. There were still things I could talk out with my mom differently than with anyone else."

  "I know. It was the same with my mother…" Kelly sighed. "It was the first thing I thought when I found out I was pregnant. That my mom would be so disappointed in me. It was the one thing she never let up on—watch out for guys with charm … don't make the mistake she made…"

  "Your mom would have understood a Chad, Kel. She fell for one herself. And all that's behind you now. Speaking of which—how's marriage going?"

  "Mac is spoiling me rotten. Took me out to dinner twice this last week. Came home with a bouquet of camellias yesterday, then out of nowhere put a box on my pillow—ruby earrings, I'm wearing them. In fact, picked a whole outfit to go with them. But all the things he's doing are kind of scary—"

  "Scary?"

  "I don't know why he's doing all this stuff."

  "God, you're such a dimwit. For the first time in your life, you're being spoiled and you have to look for reasons?"

  "But I haven't done anything—"

  "How about that the man's in love with you?"

  When Kelly hung up the phone, it was almost eleven-thirty. Time to scoop the baby up and head for Fortune's if they were going to make their lunch date on time. But the whole conversation with Mol had invoked her feelings about Mac, and just for a few seconds, her mind spun back to the evening before.

  Annie had been fractious all day, and after dinner, Mac had taken charge of the baby and she'd gone upstairs to soak in a hot, jasmine-scented tub. It seemed only minutes had passed before the door suddenly opened, and steam swirled around in fragrant clouds from the abrupt gush of cool hall air.

  But then, he'd closed the door. And turned out the light. And slipped naked with her into the tub. She could have guessed Annie would settle down and go to sleep like an angel for her dad. But settling down very clearly wasn't on Mac's mind, nor was behaving like an angel.

  Images swam in her mind. Textures, scents, sounds. The smell of jasmine in the darkness. His slick wet body teasing her slick wet body, water sloshing everywhere, his lusty laughter. He seemed to have a hundred hands, all of them slippery and wet, all of them invoking wicked sensations and shameless fantasies. She'd thought of the formidably formal Mac he used to be—the Mr. Fortune he still was for the world—but the man in the tub with her was an amoral, unprincipled pirate, determined to steal her virtue and seduce her without mercy. Passion spiraled between them until he fit her on top of him, and after all these nights, she could have sworn she didn't have an inhibition left. But she remembered turning liquid for Mac, boneless for Mac, a part of him like she hadn't known a woman could be part of a man.

  Her eyes squeezed closed. She'd woken up that morning feeling fragile and shivery and giddy-high from the inside out. Mac had used words of love before—in passion, and the night the baby was born. But those times had been so emotionally charged that she'd been wary of believing he meant it. Last night had mightily reassured her fears. She knew Mac still felt a powerful feeling of responsibility for her, but he'd shown her love in so many ways. They had a real marriage. It was surely just a matter of time before he realized it, too.

  Annie suddenly let out a squall. Startled, Kelly turned around and then swiftly scooped her daughter into her arms. "Okay, lovebug, I'm impatient to hit the road, too. You didn't think I'd forgotten about lunch, did you? As if I'd miss an opportunity to show you off."

  Outside, it was a joyful April day, with a balmy sun and a dancing, susurrous breeze. Mac had left her the black Mercedes for this excursion—which was a zillion times fancier than the economy compacts she used to drive, so it took a moment to become familiar with all the dials, get Annie strapped in the car seat and all the baby gear stowed away. And then they were off, with Annie chortling next to her, seeming delighted with their outing. Daffodils, tulips, dogwood and yellow forsythia were all bursting in bloom, and driving through the woods, all the trees were leafing out, dressed in all their starchy new greens, creating sun-dappled shadows and the sweet-young smells of everything coming to life. Of course, then she hit the outskirts of Minneapolis and city traffic.

  "Now, just be good for ten minutes for me, Annie. We'll be there in two shakes…"

  The car was an angel on the road, and it wasn't like trying to cope with rush hour besides. The roads were simply crowded around noon. Moments later, she pulled into the lot next to Fortune's, and waved to George, the guard. He was on the phone, but waved back. It was silly to feel reassured that he was there, when she'd told Mac—how many times?—that both of them needed to completely forget about that past assault. Anxiety didn't belong on a gorgeous spring day like this, but just then, she didn't mind agreeing with Mac about letting George walk her and the baby into the building. She hated bothering George, but Mac was so darn hyper about safety that she'd made the concession.

  Finding a parking place was her first problem, though. Half the city seemed out and about
, taking advantage of the spring day, shoppers and business people and everyone else trying to nail down a parking place during the lunch hour. She finally found a spot near the east entrance.

  "There now, sweetie pie. Time to get organized…" First, she reached over and unstrapped Annie from the car seat. Then scooping up her purse, she pushed at the rearview mirror to tilt it, ran a fast brush through her hair and applied some fresh lipstick, then unlocked the doors and swiveled her legs out. The diaper bag was stashed in the back seat. She fetched that, then propped both her purse and bag on the hood. Then…

  Then chaos.

  God. It just couldn't happen. Couldn't be happening. There were people everywhere. There was George, right at the north entrance in his little guard shack. And she was standing at the driver's side of the car, not moving slowly, not doing anything careless, just seconds away from crossing in front of the car hood to get to Annie's door. In seconds she'd have had the baby in her arms. In seconds.

  But the man … he was just suddenly there, yanking open the passenger door and grabbing Annie. Blondish hair. Gaunt cheeks. He was youngish, like in his twenties, wearing khakis no different than the whole world wore and an innocuous sweatshirt—the flash of recognition came from realizing that she'd already noticed him walking in the parking lot, but there was just nothing to make her think he wasn't striding purposefully to reach his car like everyone else.

  "Stop! Don't you touch her, you—" She crashed her hip into the car hood, trying to fly to the baby's side, no air getting to her lungs, nothing in her heart or head but panic—and getting to Annie.

  But it was too late. She shrieked at the top of her lungs for help, but the man already had her—she saw the baby's head jerk back the way he snatched her, the pink blanket flapping as he wheeled around and started running. For a split second she froze in indecision, not knowing whether to chase him or get help. If summoning a cop was the best choice, her mother's heart simply couldn't make it. She couldn't possibly let him disappear from sight with her baby—nothing was more terrifying than that—so she took off after him, her heart pounding like a racehorse, her hip screaming where it had bumped metal. That split second hesitation had given him a lead, but he wasn't that far away. She'd catch him.