FAKING IT
October 2005
ISBN 0373792123

Chapter One

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 he 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 into 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 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 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 deadbolt 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. Though 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 the fact that they were both basking in glorious love affairs, 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 into 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 empathetic 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.

“Some time in the seventies?” Jack glanced at his mother for confirmation. He’d grown up in this house and they’d 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 fire boxes.”

“Jack, when you’re done with that, do you have a minute?” Jack’s 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 his 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 fire boxes.”

“But, Jack,” his mother said, “I’m not sure I can afford that right now.” She turned to the electrician. “Maybe you could 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 to the 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 headed toward 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. Adrenalin 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, 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.”

“Hmmm, 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 heavy.

“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.

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SO MANY MEN...
September 2005
ISBN 0373792069

Chapter One

How many men could one woman handle? Tess McClellan inhaled a deep breath as the Miami Dolphins scored a touchdown on the TV and chaos erupted around her. A dirty gym sock flying by her head and the ringing of the doorbell added to the commotion, drawing loud hales for the pizza deliveryman.

“Sorry, Tess, I was aiming for Ramon.” The owner of the sock grinned sheepishly at her.

Tess shook her head and extricated herself from the couch, amidst the objections of no less than three of her male companions who were using her as a pillow. She glanced around at the group of men, all her exlovers. She had loved each one heart and soul, loved them still in fact.

Why then this growing dissatisfaction?

“Where you going, sweetheart? The game’s just getting good.” Ramon, her most recent ex, tugged at her hand, urging her back to the couch.

“I...I need some fresh air.”

“I’ll come with you.” He set down his beer, but she shook her head.

“Don’t get up. They’re starting again.” She nodded toward the TV. “I’ll be right back.”

“You sure?” Ramon asked, but his attention had already riveted back to the action on the screen.

Tess sighed. Lately, this need for distance from her minions, as her sisters had dubbed her collection of men, gnawed at Tess more and more. She let her gaze drift over the half dozen men sprawled around her living room. They’d do anything for her. She had but to insinuate a need and they fought over who would fulfill it, whether it be picking up her dry cleaning, cooking her dinner or fixing her broken toilet. And this was only half of them.

What woman would complain?

“Hey, Tess, we’re a little short on the pizza. Can you kick in?” Nate set a towering stack of pizza boxes on the coffee table already strewn with beer cans and half-filled bowls of chips. The men tore at the boxes with ravenous delight.

Tess glanced at the young Hispanic delivery guy standing wide-eyed by the door, then back at her own guys as they vied to see who could stuff an entire slice of pizza into his mouth first. Okay, maybe there was some reason for her dissatisfaction.

She turned to the newcomer. “Hold on just a second.”

With a shake of her head she walked to her bedroom, reminding herself of all the good her guys had done for her lately. Just that morning, Ramon had stored a week’s worth of meals in her freezer, Gabe had fixed the broken shelf on the bookcase in her bedroom and Evan had finished scheduling her staff at the nursery for the upcoming week.

By the time she’d paid for the pizza she’d never eat, her heart swelled with warmth for all of them. Each one of them had been there for her, and if she needed them, they’d be there again. In a heartbeat.

The delivery guy nodded his thanks, then beat a hasty retreat. She stood in the door and breathed in the heavy Miami air. The humidity still curled her hair, even this late in September.

Closing the door, she turned to her entourage. “I’m going out back to get a little air.”

A couple of them bobbed their heads, but between the pizza and the game, they hardly seemed to notice her. She did a quick scan of them, assessing the various emotions each felt. They all seemed content to one degree or another.

All was well. That meant she’d done her job. And though no deep emotion currently ran through the group—other than for how the Dolphins were faring—she felt no concern. This was the way it always was—the lull between lovers.

She headed through the kitchen toward the back door, bent on a few moments of solitude on the shaded deck, even if it meant frizzing her hair in the remaining afternoon heat.

As she swept by the kitchen table, she grabbed the newspaper. Maybe she could see a movie. Of course, it wouldn’t be as much fun by herself. Where was Erin? Her younger sister had made her presence way too scarce since their oldest sister, Nikki, had moved out.

“I don’t need Erin.” Tess assured herself as she settled in the padded lounger one of her guys had given her—she forgot which one—last year for her birthday. She opened the paper. “Now, what’s going on in the world?”

But instead of the headline news, she’d grabbed the community section. She skimmed the list of upcoming events. Maybe she needed a little community involvement—a new charity to distract her. She hadn’t volunteered for anything in quite a while. Maybe that was what was eating at her.

She scanned the options. United Way...Friends of the Elderly... Dade County Women’s Club--a women’s club? What did they do? Make a Wish Foundation...

She bit her lip. A women’s group? That would mean no men. No testosterone, no dirty socks flying about, no paying for pizza she’d never eat...

Maybe that was what was troubling her—what this...emptiness in her life was. With her mother traveling abroad with her latest lover and her sisters tied up in their respective lives, was Tess merely craving female companionship?

But would she find friends in the Dade County Women’s Club? A feeling of trepidation stole over her. Memories of high school flashed through her mind. She hadn’t intentionally set out to date the head cheerleader’s boyfriend, or the senior class president, or the star quarterback. She hadn’t realized the power of her smile or even of an interested glance.

She hadn’t known then that she had the McClellan gift of sexual healing.

The animosity of every female in school quickly had clued Tess in though, that she was...different. As much as she’d tried, she couldn’t make up for the continued interest of guys. She’d never had a girlfriend and after a time, she’d given up. She’d had her sisters, after all, and she’d liked having so many male companions. And as she’d grown up, she’d enjoyed them as lovers.

But now something was wrong. The disquiet she’d experienced lately rippled through her. Did the women’s club hold the answer to what was missing from her life? That group wouldn’t have any men to distract her. Maybe she’d find acceptance among her female peers and she’d be giving to her community, something she’d always found fulfilling in the past.

She read the announcement again. There was a luncheon on Sunday--tomorrow.

Should she go?

“Josh, go long.” A muffled yell filtered through the window, followed by a crash and the tinkling of broken glass.

She folded the paper and tucked it under her arm as she rose to investigate the latest upheaval in her home.

A testosterone-free afternoon.

How could she resist?

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nate peered at her through the open car window, his dark eyes questioning.

She buckled her seat belt, then gripped the wheel, ignoring the tightening in her gut and the alarming urge to invite him along. She’d gotten way too used to having her own little entourage escort her everywhere. “I’m sure. I’ll be fine. It’s just a luncheon. Should be fun. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Okay, Josh and I are going to hit a few balls on the courts.” His shoulders eased in a slight shrug. “If you need anything, just call.”

“I’ll be fine,” she reiterated, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. Was she reassuring him--or herself? “It’s just a meeting of the Dade County Women’s Club. What could happen?”

He stepped away from the car, frowning. “Not sure why you think you need to rub shoulders with those women, but knock ‘em dead.”

“Thanks, Nate. I should be back in plenty of time for dinner.”

“We’ll heat up one of Ramon’s specialties.”

The sun glanced off a bumper in front of her a short while later. A panhandler peered at her from a street corner, looking downtrodden and wearing too many layers of clothing in the heat. Her heart gave a little squeeze. She didn’t have time now, but she’d bring him some food on her way back.

Lifting her chin, she gripped the wheel and focused on the road. She could do this. She’d walk into this meeting with her head held high. Without a man in sight she shouldn’t have any problems striking up friendships with the club members.

A short time later, she took a deep breath as she pushed through the doors at the Hennesy Hotel. Soft music filled the lobby. She followed a sign and the murmur of voices to a meeting room. With her stomach flip-flopping and a smile plastered across her face, she strode into the room.

“Good afternoon, may I help you?” A petite woman sitting at a table inside the door greeted her.

“Um, yes, I’m here for a luncheon with the Dade County Women’s Club.”

“Are you a visitor?” A wide smile broke across the woman’s face. “We’re always excited to have new people.”

“I saw your meeting announced in the community calendar. I thought I’d come see what you were all about.”

“Welcome. This is our monthly member luncheon, where we hold our meeting and enjoy visiting with one another.”

“I think that I might be interested in joining, if that’s okay.” The words surprised Tess, even as they left her own mouth. She’d meant only to check them out.

“Of course it’s okay. We’d love to have you.” The woman extended her hand to Tess. “I’m Cassie Aikens, Program Chair.”

Smiling, Tess pumped her hand. “Tess McClellan. I’ve never actually done anything like this before.”

“Attended a luncheon?”

“Joined a women’s group.” She’d done it again—committed herself before she’d had a chance to think it through. Yet something about this woman encouraged Tess in a way she’d never hoped to be.

“It’s a lot of fun. I’ll introduce you to Terry Kingsley when she gets here. She’s this year’s Membership Chair.”

“That would be great.”

Another woman entered the room and greeted Cassie. Her gaze shifted over Tess, who smiled. The newcomer was an attractive woman, with every blond hair in place. Tess, with her tangle of red waves, couldn’t help but feel a little tug of envy.

“Hi April, this is...”

“Tess McClellan.” Tess extended her hand.

“Tess has come to visit with us and maybe join our group,” Cassie said, adding to the introduction.

“April Emerson. How nice to meet you.”

“April’s our President. This is her fifth year. We all love her so much, we won’t let her step down.”

April’s shoulders relaxed and the smile she directed at Cassie seemed genuine. She handed Cassie a crisp twenty-dollar bill. “It smells wonderful, Cassie. Did you order the chicken amandine?”

“With asparagus and those seasoned potatoes you like.” She handed April her change, along with a ticket-like receipt.

April glanced around at the tables of chattering women. “Looks like almost everyone’s here. We should start soon. I think I’ll go get my food and sit.”

“We’re missing Terry. I want to introduce her to Tess, so we can get her signed up. We haven’t had a new member in a long while.”

April’s gaze again swept over Tess. “No, we haven’t.” Turning abruptly, she addressed Cassie, “Why don’t you finish up, then get your own food? I’d like to get started on time for a change.”

Cassie frowned. “Sure. I guess I’m pretty hungry. If Terry comes, she can find me.”

April left and Cassie shook her head. “She’s normally more friendly. She’s just going through a rough time right now.”

“Oh. Here--” Tess pulled her wallet from her bag “I need to pay. There will be enough food, right?”

“Don’t worry about that. We always order a few extra meals for guests or speakers.” Cassie took Tess’s money, then handed her a receipt.

“Speakers? Who do you usually have?”

“Let’s see, last month a couple of women from the Garden Society did a nice talk on indoor gardens. And today we possibly have someone from Project Mentor. They’re on the schedule, but there’s a chance they might not show.” She shrugged. “It’s a new nonprofit organization, run entirely by volunteers. They take the big brother-big sister thing a little further— Look at me running on. We should grab our food. April will start before we get through our entrees.”

Closing the money box, Cassie motioned Tess toward several banquet tables laden with fresh bread, salads and serving dishes steeped in tempting aromas that made Tess’s stomach growl.

The food tasted as heavenly as it smelled, almost as good as one of Ramon’s creations. Tess swallowed a savory mouthful of the chicken and smiled as Cassie nodded in her direction. Her new acquaintance had led her to a table not far from the front, where a podium stood.

The women at her table had acknowledged her with cursory nods as Cassie had left to find a vacant seat nearby. Tess did her best to blend in as the women chatted to each other. She waited patiently for an opening in the conversation where she might add something witty or entertaining.

“Kevin is teething and he drools nonstop. Everything goes straight into his mouth and he soaks his little T-shirts right through, even though I keep a bib on him.” The brunette to her left leaned toward the woman beside her.

Not much Tess could add there. Frowning, she focused on the plump redhead to her right. “Then Daddy said he had corns on top of his corns and he would not walk another step. I thought Mamma was going to skin him, right there. I have never seen her so angry.”

“Mmmm, this asparagus is to die for,” Tess commented to no one in particular.

The others continued discussing teething babies and parents with foot problems. How could she jump in on any of these conversations? They were all talking about families—normal families.

What did Tess know about that?

In near desperation, she glanced across the table to where two women sat in deep conversation. “And he hates school. Doesn’t care for his teacher at all. It’s a battle to make him go every day. He complains about everything. He won’t do his homework. We have a teacher’s conference scheduled this week and I just dread it.”

Who was Tess kidding? She had nothing in common with these women. She could no more relate to their issues than they could relate to hers.

You see, I have this problem. I tend to collect men, first as lovers, whom I heal through sexual encounters, then as friends who stay on long after the loving. My sisters fondly call them my minions, because they do everything for me. I so much as hint at a need and it’s filled. But they can’t fill one of my most pressing needs—the need for female companionship. And though some may say that I do them all a great service in healing them, I feel I can do more to help my community. This is where you ladies come in.

Right, that would go over like a lead balloon. Why had she come? What made her think she could do this? Tess shook her head and looked over at Cassie. She waved and Tess relaxed a little. She’d made at least one connection, and that was better than she’d done all through high school and college combined. Maybe there was hope.

Cassie’s gaze swung to the door, and her smile faded. A sudden taut silence filled the air and Tess turned to see April glaring toward the back of the room. Tess followed the glare to a dark-haired man, standing just inside the door.

He was solid, with a strong build and virile presence that rolled over Tess in waves. Her gaze traveled up his length to lock with his. His eyes and hair were a nondescript brown and his features more angular than she preferred, but still she was entranced and surprised at her own reaction. Certainly, catching a man’s attention had never been a problem for her, but never before had she experienced this inexplicable draw. She braced her hands on the table and fought the urge to go to him.

Still, he held her transfixed and it took all her concentration to turn toward the front of the room. Her back ramrod straight, April moved to the podium, her expression heavy with censure as she glanced at Tess. A sense of bewilderment stole over Tess. What had angered April? Tess took a deep breath and struggled not to look at the man whose presence spiked the tension in the room.

The microphone came to life as April tapped it. “Excuse me, everyone, I hope you’ve all had enough of this delicious meal. If not, please feel free to help yourselves to seconds. There’s plenty.”

She paused, but everyone remained seated, either with sated appetites, or apprehension over the obvious discord now present. She resumed speaking, “It seems we have a speaker who has arrived ahead of schedule, so I suggest we commence with that part of our program and leave the reading of the minutes and the business portion until later.”

A murmur of assent rippled through the crowd. The redhead beside Tess raised her hand. “I move we save the minutes and business part of our meeting until after our speaker.”

April smiled sweetly at the woman. “Thank you, Jen. Always nice to have you keeping us on track.” She addressed the group. “Are there any seconds?”

Someone seconded the motion, then it passed with a unanimous vote. April cleared her throat. “So, with no further ado, here’s Dr. Mason Davies to discuss his Project Mentor.”

She walked stiffly to her seat as Dr. Davies strode up the aisle. He moved with a forceful grace, even though tension radiated from the tight set of his jaw and shoulders. He paused when he passed April’s table. “Thank you.”

April stared at him evenly, but made no comment as he continued to the podium. He adjusted the microphone, then let his gaze scan the room. “I’d like to thank you all for having me here today. I appreciate your time and consideration—especially your consideration. I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve come here to ask for your help.”

The low timbre of his voice vibrated through Tess, filling her with surprising swirls of awareness. His gaze again scanned the crowd, before coming to rest on her. Heat rose in her face as, spellbound, she couldn’t look away.

Who was this man?

“For those of you who aren’t familiar with Project Mentor, it’s a program of volunteers working to help at-risk teens and children who have been exposed to drug abuse and/or HIV in their families. It’s a nonprofit organization sponsoring workshops and other events designed not only to help relieve some of the immediate burdens these kids face, but also to help them plan for their futures.

“These kids are the unfortunate victims who fall between the cracks at school and in our communities. They struggle with issues no child should have to deal with, yet they live it. Some of these kids don’t know what it’s like to eat three square meals a day, have proper medical and dental care, or attend school on a regular basis. Many of them have given up by the time they reach us.”

He paused, his passion for this project reached out to Tess and empathy swelled through her, for the children, for this man who cared enough that he faced this roomfull of less-than-welcoming women. He and April certainly had some issues to work out. The pressure between the two of them was nearly a physical thing.

“What exactly is it that you’re asking of us, Dr. Davies?” The question came from one of the women at April’s table.

“That’s an excellent question. Our hope...is that you’ll lend us a hand with some fund-raising.”

“What kind of fund-raising?” another of April’s group asked.

“That would be ultimately for you to decide, but at Project Mentor we had talked about a big gala or ball where the proceeds would go toward creating a youth center. We would, of course, welcome all youths, but our focus is on the ones we find through the free clinic we established two years ago in downtown Miami.

“Even though that clinic has experienced great success, we have seen more and more patients strung out on drugs and with HIV. When children are involved, our choice in the past has been to help the parents as best we could, then send them back to deal with their families as best they could. Unfortunately, they often don’t deal well with the added pressure of raising children, especially teens.

“Though we have a mentoring program in place for these kids, we’re finding it isn’t enough. There’s a real need to provide a feeling of community for them, a sense that they belong somewhere. If we don’t supply that connection, they find it in gangs or other unfavorable settings. A youth center would help prevent that.”

Tess glanced around expectantly, subduing the urge to jump to her feet and volunteer the group. She hadn’t yet officially joined their ranks, so it wasn’t her place to say anything. Surely, these women would put aside their differences for this higher purpose.

April straightened in her seat, though she remained closed off, her arms folded across her chest. “Why can’t your group arrange this ball on its own?”

“You ladies are known for your fund-raising abilities. We could make an effort, but all of us have careers in addition to our volunteering with the project. We simply don’t have the resources or connections you do. The gala is guaranteed success if the Dade County Women’s Club is associated with it.”

Silence reigned over the room. April uncrossed her arms and sat forward. “I don’t see how we would have the time to help you. We have several other projects we’re currently tied up with and our own gala event not far around the corner.”

Disbelief flashed through Dr. Davies’s eyes. “But that’s nearly nine months away. Surely you’d have time to handle this event.”

April rose, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so. There’s a lot that goes into planning any event as you so clearly point out, but I can’t speak for the entire group.” She gestured to the tables around her. “What do you think? Can we help Dr. Davies with his project?”

Tess stiffened at the note of warning in her voice. She held her breath as not a soul offered an opinion. How could these women just sit there? Did April swing so much clout that she could cow everyone into not helping?

Fisting her hands in her lap, Tess fought the urge to offer her services. She didn’t even know these women. Why would they listen to her? Acting against April would most likely cost Tess any chance at making friends. And so much for service work with the group.

She glanced up to find his gaze on her and froze.

His dark eyes beseeched her. She wasn’t even a member. What could she do? Surely one of the other women would say something.

“I see.” The defeat in his voice cut deep. “Then I won’t be taking any more of your time.”

Tess took another deep breath as he exited, but it did little to ease the knot of regret forming in her stomach. She stared at the empty doorway. The man had left. There wasn’t anything she could do about it now. Besides, chances were another group would come to his aid. If he was a doctor, he must have all kinds of connections.

The women’s club seemed to have other charities it was involved in. Surely she’d find another project she’d feel good about helping with. And there was the added bonus of making women friends. She’d come here to get away from men. She sipped her water and tried to relax. With the good doctor gone, now maybe she could get on with building some kind of relationship with her own kind.

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THE MORNING AFTER
AUGUST 2005
ISBN 037379200X

Chapter One

SHE WASN'T A ONE-NIGHT wonder after all. Euphoria filled Nikki McClellan Sunday morning as the aroma of fresh coffee and the clatter of dishes roused her from a languorous sleep.

This was a Sunday for the record books.

True to his word, Brad Turner was making her breakfast to celebrate their first night together as lovers. A profound relief poured through her. At long last, she'd kept a man until morning.

The intense Miami sun peered through a crack in the curtains. It promised to be another scorching June day, but today she could face anything. With a smile, she slipped from the bed, then stole into the shower. Humming softly, she lathered herself, then let the warm rivulets rinse her. This morning her luck had changed. If she played her cards right, she might finally have the lasting relationship she'd always longed for.

As she exited the bathroom, she breathed deeply the scent of the bacon and eggs she could almost hear sizzling. Tying her robe snugly, she padded barefoot down the hall to the kitchen. Thank goodness neither of her sisters seemed to be stirring.

"You adorable ma--" She stopped in her tracks.

A tray laden with bacon, eggs, hash browns, fresh fruit, coffee and croissants graced the center of her breakfast counter. A folded sheet of paper sat beside it, her name scrawled across its front.

Brad was nowhere to be seen.

Disappointment choked her as she sank onto one of the bar stools. "Well, at least this one left a note."

Sighing, she unfolded the paper.

Dearest Nikki,

Last night was the most amazing night of my life, but I'm sure you get that all the time. No one has ever made me feel that way. Sex with you was like a spiritual experience, and I'm sitting here in awe, still trying to figure out exactly what happened.

All I know is that last night somehow changed my life. I feel as if I could go out and conquer the world. So that's what I'm off to do. I've never felt so sure of myself. You did that for me. You're a goddess and I only wish I was worthy of you. I will always cherish the memory of our time together.

With deepest gratitude,

Brad

"Gratitude?" she ground the word through her teeth. "Oh, hell, at least the man can cook."

"WOULD YOU LIKE SOME TEA and honey cakes, dear?" Sophie Patterson, Nikki's aunt, set a tray filled with the steaming brew and sweet smelling cakes on the low coffee table before them the following Thursday.

Nikki rubbed her stomach. She'd managed to finish off the entire meal Brad had left, then she'd spent the rest of the weekend and a good part of the week eating through her misery. Still, she felt a little hollow and the best place for filling up was at her aunt's. It was also the best place for getting advice.

She shook her head. "You'd think all this rejection would have spoiled my appetite."

"Actually, I would be a bit surprised if you weren’t hungry." The late afternoon sun played across Sophie’s loose hair, illuminating an ample sprinkling of white in the dark strands.

Nikki gave her aunt a curious glance, but refrained from commenting. Though Sophie often spoke in riddles, she always had a way of easing whatever troubles might drop Nikki on her doorstep.

Cradling the warm mug, Nikki settled back into the soft cushions of the couch. It was a sturdy old couch, much like the house and Sophie herself. In a world full of chaos and constant moves, Sophie and her Victorian with its wraparound porch had long been a sanctuary to Nikki and her sisters, Tess and Erin. It was the closest thing to home the girls had ever known.

But not for long. Their days in the apartment they shared were numbered. The one thing their mother had done right was to set up an investment fund for each of the girls at birth. In spite of the stock market’s many ups and downs, the funds still managed to accrue a tidy annual yield. With help from that, an unexpected inheritance and the income Nikki had generated since purchasing her animal clinic last year, she’d amassed a down payment and the excellent credit she needed to buy a home of her own.

She glanced at her watch. She'd have to leave soon to meet with her real estate agent. Since Nikki opened the clinic half the day on Saturday, she took off Thursday afternoons. For the past three weeks, she'd spent her free afternoons house hunting. She hadn't had much luck in her search, but maybe today would be different.

Sophie settled beside her, nodding at her own cup. "It's a special herb blend. It'll chase those blues away."

Nikki breathed in the steam before taking a long swallow. She'd learned long ago not to ask too many questions about Sophie’s brews. If her aunt said the tea would help, Nikki meant to drink every drop.

"I just don't get it," she said, her throat tightening. "Am I such a loser? These guys really like me. You know, I can usually tell what they're feeling..."

She stopped. Though Sophie had been the first one to point out Nikki’s empathic nature back in the days of her childhood, they hadn't spoken about it much since then. Perhaps her aunt thought she sounded like some babbling fool.

"You're wondering why you don't know in advance that they're leaving."

"Well, actually, it's gotten pretty predictable. You'd think I'd get a clue."

"It isn't easy, being empathic. Emotions can be misleading and fickle. It's difficult to tell what you're tapping into."

"What is it about me that sends them all running afterwards? It isn't as though I'm trying to tie any of them down. I'd just like a guy to stick around for a little bit."

"You're looking at it all wrong. It isn't that they're rejecting you. It's that they're embracing the world and all it has to offer." Sophie set her mug on the table, then offered the plate of cakes. "Try a honey cake, dear. It'll sweeten your disposition."

Nikki frowned. She wanted to rave and cry. Life was so unfair. She couldn't seem to keep a guy and Tess collected them like baubles. "I don't feel like sweetening my disposition. I want to scream. I'm a good person. I make a decent living and I don't think I'm so hard on the eyes. All I ask for is a little bit of happiness."

"Ah, that you'll have in spades, love."

Moisture swelled in Nikki's eyes. "When?"

Sophie patted Nikki’s knee. Her shoulders heaved in a big sigh. "I guess it's time. I had hoped to coax that sister of mine into telling all of you girls, but she's always been a little..."

"Flighty? Fickle? Self-indulgent? You can say it, Sophie. It isn't as though I haven't figured that out for myself." The bitterness inside Nikki grew.

She had managed to forget about her mother for a short period of time. Thinking of her now brought on a fresh wave of misery. If only Maggie had been able to settle for just one great love, Nikki wouldn't have grown up feeling like such a vagabond. Instead, Maggie—daughters in tow--had roamed from lover to lover, home to home.

"You've never understood her, Nikki. She's a free spirit it's true, but she's got a huge heart."

"That she wants to share with as many men as humanly possible?"

"Actually, that's about the gist of it. But what you don't understand is that she has a special gift she's granting to each and every one of them."

"Oh, I know about her 'gift' all right."

"I don't think so. You don't understand. How can I explain it? You see, you have this very same gift, love, only in you it seems to be much stronger. It takes a little longer for your mother’s magic to work, but with you...well, it seems you're a one shot wonder."

"I could have told you that." Nikki stood, then began pacing. Her vision blurred and she blinked to clear the unwanted moisture from her eyes.

"I don't mean that in a bad way, dear. It's quite a marvel, actually. I remember your great-aunt Emma was the same way. Does take some getting used to, but she lived a long love-filled life."

"Getting used to?" Nikki stared at her aunt in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? Because I don't think I can get used to the idea that the rest of my life will consist of a string of one-night stands. I'll become celibate first."

"No, dear, that would be most unfortunate. You have a gift. To keep it to yourself would be a terrible mistake."

Nikki stopped to stare again at her aunt. "I have the mystifying ability to send men running from my bed. How can you call that a gift?"

"Sit beside me. I'm getting a sore neck looking up at you." Sophie patted the cushion.

With a shake of her head, Nikki settled on the sofa again. Her stomach grumbled and she took a bite of cake.

"I'd wager that each and every one of them left hearty and hale and a world better for sharing your bed."

Nikki snorted indelicately. "The only one who left a note said he was ready to go out and conquer the world."

"Exactly." Sophie beamed.

"Well, great. That makes it all better."

"You make it all better. You see, the women of this family all share the gift." Grooves formed between her brows. "The gift does impact one's life, it's true. Relationships can be very short term, especially in your case and that takes maintaining a certain attitude--the ability to let go when the time comes. The empathic nature can be a terrible burden. Seems the most damaged are drawn to us. But the reward..."

Bliss lightened her expression. "Well, hopefully you'll experience it for yourself. The reward is beyond description. It's priceless to give so selflessly--to change a life, or even save one--with the gift."

"Sophie, you've gone on and on, but you haven't really told me. What exactly is this gift?"

Sophie took a deep breath and faced her niece. "I'm surprised you haven't figured it out. It's the gift of sexual healing, of course."

SOPHIE WAS NUTS. NIKKI frowned into her rear view mirror as she braked at a stoplight. Sexual healing? Impossible. Ridiculous. Who'd ever heard of such a thing? Sounded like the kind of harebrained excuse her mother might have dreamed up, but how could Sophie buy into it?

Her aunt had been disappointed when Nikki had scoffed at her explanation. Then Nikki had graciously excused herself for her appointment. She was a little early, but for some reason, she found the possibility that there might be a small bit of truth to Sophie's tale most upsetting. Did this mean she was doomed to flit from man to man, following her mother's rootless path?

God knows, Tess seemed headed that way. Erin was another story, though. Her romantic pursuits had been very low-key up to this point. Yet, Sophie had said they'd all inherited the gift. Would they all end up alone in the end?

Exhaling to rid herself of the unsettling feeling, Nikki checked her directions before focusing on the neighborhood around her. The best way to combat this new upset was to concentrate on putting down roots of her own. And this area, Coral Gables, looked like a great place to do just that. She was meeting her agent here at the first house they were viewing. The house was in an established tree-lined neighborhood with wide boulevards and lots of green space. No wonder Coral Gables was called "The City Beautiful." Even better, it was a short commute to her clinic and she'd always loved this area.

Tess and Erin would, too.

Nikki drove past a curious mixture of Colonial, French, Dutch and Chinese style houses, some with ornate entryways. This area certainly had a flavor all its own. A bicycle path wound alongside the road. She turned onto a quiet side street.

"This must be it. Five-eighty-nine Chestnut Lane," Nikki murmured to herself as she pulled up in front of a two-story house.

She glanced up and down the quiet street. Ginger Parker, her agent, was nowhere to be seen. Nikki left the engine running. Cool air hissed through the air conditioning vents as the sun beat down around her car. Shifting forward, she peered at the house.

She liked it immediately.

It had a classic look, with bay windows across the front and wide dormers below the sloped roof. Barrel tile covered the surface and an archway to one side appeared to lead to an inner courtyard. Ferns, palm leaves and deep russet and gold flowers hinted at a garden beyond.

She started at a swift rap on her window. She started. A stranger peered in at her. Blond hair swept back from his furrowed brow. Blue eyes narrowed on her. A myriad of emotions seemed to swirl in their depths and foreboding swept over her.

Blowing out a breath, she rolled down her window. "Yes, may I help you?"

"You're Ms. McClellan?" A roughness edged his voice.

It veiled a deeper vulnerability. Though he was a big man--hearty and hale, as Sophie would say--he somehow seemed...not whole, as if he was broken inside. How this revelation came to Nikki, she couldn't say, other than the usual way she felt things about people.

And what she felt about this man drew an empathic rush from her heart. He carried a deep sorrow. It pressed him down with a crushing weight.

The stranger cleared his throat. She fumbled to remove her sunglasses, warmth fanning across her cheeks. She'd been staring. "Yes, I'm Nikki McClellan."

"Mrs. Parker phoned to say she's been delayed. I thought you might like to wait inside."

"Oh. You're the owner?"

He nodded briefly, his expression unchanging. "Dylan Cain, at your service."

She cut the engine. "Thank you, Mr. Cain."

Though he stepped back, she was all too aware of his solid presence as she exited the vehicle, then turned to fidget with the lock.

"She shouldn't be long. You can wait in the study or you're welcome to have a look around."

She walked beside him, her chin just topping his shoulder. He was tall, over six feet. Her arms tingled as the sheer vitality of him shimmered over her. She caught his spicy scent and her pulse quickened.

"Is this really a courtyard?" Needing to put some distance between them, she veered away from him, nodding toward the archway. A riot of tropical flowers stirred in the slight breeze drifting through the opening.

"I wanted a home that brought the outdoors in. The courtyard and its gardens are a central feature." He led her into the refreshing coolness of the garden.

Nikki inhaled a sharp breath. Tall palm trees presided over much of the space, adding needed shade. A large fountain stood amid a circular garden in the courtyard’s center. Water splashed and gurgled from an urn held by a laughing mermaid, while her sisters freed a wide-eyed fisherman caught in his own net. Small buds of yellow, red and orange danced all around the fountain's rim.

The four corners sported smaller gardens, each with its own theme. A kettle windsock prevailed over what appeared to be a bevy of herbs. Tropical flowers peered between and around huge boulders of varying shapes and sizes on the far side. Another area paid homage to a stand of palms that shaded a cozy hammock and the last paraded flowers in a rainbow spectrum.

"It's beautiful." She turned slowly in a circle, breathing in the sweet floral scent.

"Yes, beautiful." His tone was dark and fluid.

She faced him. Heat shimmered in his eyes as his gaze traveled over her. Awareness warmed her blood. Framed by the tropical garden, he looked like a predator, ready to strike. She took an involuntary step backward.

He straightened and the moment passed. "Every room has a view of the gardens."

Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy and winked off the floor-to-ceiling windows and wide French doors that must indeed usher the outdoors in.

"This is incredible," she murmured. "I'm surprised you can bring yourself to part with it."

The muscles in his jaw tightened. "It's time."

Again, a feeling of empathy swamped her. She stilled the impulse to place a comforting hand on his arm. Whatever ailed this man, he seemed quite inclined to deal with it himself.

"Would you care to see the rest?" He gestured toward a pair of French doors.

"Yes, that would be nice, if you don't mind." She followed him into the main entryway.

Jewel-colored light splashed across the wall above her. Opposite, a stained-glass panorama stretched above the heavy oak doors, depicting a mermaid singing to a sea prince.

"Do you prefer to wander on your own, or would you like the guided tour?" Cain asked.

Her glance fell across a side table adorned with an assortment of gilt-framed photographs. The delicacy of the table and its ornate trimmings seemed in contrast to the man’s dark nature. A blond woman with an easy smile peered from one of the frames.

Nikki straightened, suddenly feeling very much like an intruder. "I'd like the guided tour...if I'm not keeping you from anything."

He gestured with a wide sweep of his arm. "This is the foyer."

Her gaze again gravitated toward the stained glass window. The mermaid's wistful expression elicited a strange melancholy in her. Or did the image evoke the emotion in Cain and she was feeling it from him? Why would such a beautiful display cause him sorrow? She frowned. Being empathic wasn't easy.

She blinked inexplicable moisture from her eyes as his gaze pinned her. "Is it an original?" she asked. "I've never seen anything quite like it, or the fountain for that matter."

"Yes. They were both commissioned."

He turned stiffly and she followed him into the formal living room off to one side of the entryway. Here, the contrast between the style of furniture and the man seemed even starker. High wing-backed chairs and sofas, dark claw-footed tables and delicate lamps adorned the space. Silk wallpaper with tiny rosebuds covered the walls, one of which featured shiny brass sconces flanking a large oil painting of a Victorian lady meeting her lover.

Nikki couldn't help but verify her suspicions. "You collect antiques?"

Though his shoulders remained steady, he seemed to sag somehow. "It would appear so."

"I'm sorry. It's just a little odd. You don't seem to be the claw-footed type." As if she had any idea what type he might be.

His gaze caught hers. For a moment, a storm threatened in his eyes, then he cocked his head and seemed to relax. "Perhaps I'm not."

"Oh." She waited with bated breath, but he didn't elaborate.

Did the woman in the picture collect the antiques and knickknacks? If so, where was she now? Was she the cause of Cain’s pain?

And exactly what would you do about it if she were?

The doorbell saved Nikki from further speculation. Ginger Parker arrived in a bluster of apologies and out of breath, her blue-gray hair tousled by the wind. "I'm so sorry I kept you waiting."

She patted her hair in place and turned to Cain. "Thank you for letting Ms. McClellan in."

He nodded toward the study on the opposite side of the foyer. "No problem, I was just working."

"Oh, well, we'll let you get back to it, then. Don't mind us. We'll just poke around on our own." Ginger shooed him toward the study.

Dylan hesitated. His gaze swung over his prospective buyer. She was quite attractive with her brown eyes and coffee-colored hair. She had a sturdy build, not too thin, but she seemed unsteady at the moment. He'd made her uncomfortable somehow. She looked...upset.

"Ginger has been through already. She previewed the house a couple of days ago," he said, wanting to reassure the woman. "You're in safe hands, Ms. McClellan."

"Oh, please call me Nikki."

"Nikki, then." He extended his hand. "And I'm Dylan."

"Yes, Dylan it is." She placed her hand in his.

Warmth surged through him. Not just the tingling heat of sexual awareness, though that was there, too, which surprised him. Sure, on those rare occasions when Steven Benson, his life-long friend, had dragged him out he'd felt the odd passing attraction, but nothing like this.

Earlier in the garden Nikki's lush figure and sparkling eyes had his mind wandering along lustful paths he hadn't pondered in a very long time. Now her warmth enveloped him in comfort and ease. As he looked into her eyes, serenity like he had not known these past two years descended on him. Her gaze softened and he could no more look away than he could let go of her hand. He fought the alarming urge to sweep her into his arms.

What had come over him and who was this woman?

Ginger cleared her throat. "Shall we?"

Nikki glanced away, breaking the spell. She pulled her hand from his as pink blossomed in her cheeks. "Yes, of course. So far I love it. It's certainly more house than I'd anticipated."

"Let's start with the study, then we can let Dylan get back to work." Ginger ushered her client in that direction.

Dylan followed, staring blankly at the papers on his desk. What had he been working on? A haze clouded his mind. He turned and nearly collided with Nikki.

"Now, this is your room." Appreciation shone in her dark eyes as she took in the solid oak furnishings and cluttered tabletops. Papers and files pertaining to the fraud case he was working on covered nearly every available space.

"I...this is where I work when I'm home. I like it to be...utilitarian." In fact, it was the one room Kathy had had no interest in.

"Dylan's an attorney." Ginger rubbed her hands together. "He's defending Councilman Weatherby. Imagine, one of Miami's finest citizens on trial like a common criminal. You'll get him off, won't you, Dylan? I can't believe George has done a dishonest thing in his life."

"I'm not at liberty to discuss the case. The local media is having a field day with it as it is."

"Yes," Nikki cocked her head. "I believe I did read something about it. I'm sorry. I don't follow the news as closely as I should. I spend my days doctoring furry critters, then fall into bed exhausted at night. I don't know where the time goes."

"You're a veterinarian?" Dylan almost smiled, picturing the lovely brunette with her "critters."

"Yes, I am. I've always gotten along better with animals than people." She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

It was a full bottom lip. Luscious. Made for kissing.

"Nikki has her own clinic in Bay Heights," Ginger said.

Dylan forced himself to look away from Nikki. Guilt filled him. What had made him think of kissing her? Had the woman bewitched him? He cleared his throat. "Bay Heights. That wouldn't be a far drive."

"No, not at all." Nikki turned to Ginger. "I'm anxious to see the rest of the house."

"Of course you are, hon. Dylan, if you'll excuse us..."

"Certainly, make yourselves at home. Just let me know if you have any questions."

Nikki glanced back, smiling as they left the room and he stilled the urge to follow. "Briefs," he muttered as he sat at his desk. "Where was I?"

He consulted the notes he'd been scribbling when Ginger called. "Right, finance summaries."

With quick motions, he punched a number into his phone. After four rings the message center on the other end picked up. He waited patiently for the beep, then said, "Evelyn, if you have them ready, I could really use those summaries on the Weatherby finances. In particular, I'm looking for September and October of last year. Give me a call if you have them, or just fax them over. Thanks."

He exhaled and focused on the file in front of him, immersing himself in his work. The accountants were going over every detail, but he needed to understand where the councilman stood himself. Though all the columns in Weatherby's P&L added up, Dylan's sixth sense told him all wasn't as it appeared to be.

A short while later, Nikki's musical laughter floated down from the upstairs, shattering his concentration. He tossed down his pen. He had purposely left the office and all its distractions to work at home this afternoon. Now, how was he supposed to get any work done with all of this racket in the house?

After another moment of staring blankly at the page in front of him, he gave up all pretense of working. He stood, then went in search of the pair.

He found them in the guest room. Sebastian, Kathy's orange tabby, had draped himself unceremoniously across Nikki's shoulders. Dylan paused a moment, not breathing. Since Kathy's death, the cat hadn't let anyone pet him, let alone pick him up--not even Dylan.

Nikki turned. Her smile faded. "Your housemate found us."

Ginger ruffled the cat's ear and he hissed at her. "Oh my, he hasn't any use for me, though he climbed right up there. Seems to have taken a liking to Nikki."

"He doesn't like most people." Dylan took a shaky breath. Showing the house was turning out to be harder than he'd expected. He stepped forward to take the cat, but Sebastian growled and leaped to the floor.

“Ow!” Nikki clamped her hand to her collarbone.

“Did he scratch you?” Dylan asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s bleeding.” Ginger’s eyebrows formed a deep V.

“Let me see.” The softness of Nikki’s hand plagued him as he moved it aside to see the double slash where Sebastian’s claws had marked her. “I’m sorry. I’ll get something for that.”

She waved aside his efforts. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“He’s overdue for a clipping. He doesn’t like me handling him and I’ve been so busy lately, I can’t remember the last time I took him in for a grooming.”

“He didn’t mean anything. Bring him by my clinic. We’ll get him clipped and clean for you.” She smiled as the cat rubbed up against her leg. "I've always had a way with the four-legged kind."

"So it seems." Dylan suppressed the anger rising in him. Why should Sebastian's reaction to the woman upset him?

Or perhaps it was his own guilty response triggering his feelings.

"Well," Ginger checked her watch. "If you’ve seen enough, I suggest we move along, Nikki. We have several more homes to visit."

Relief flooded Dylan. Thank God they were leaving. His insides had been in a tangle since he had first laid eyes on that woman. Now he could get back to work and get on with his life.

Nikki turned slowly around the room until she faced him. Her gaze caught and held his, though her words were directed toward Ginger, "Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary. I believe I'm ready to make an offer."

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