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position than you have in the sociology department, isn't that it?"
"Daniel, you aren't even making sense!" she exclaimed. "Stealing an important find would only
discredit me!"
"I'm engaged to you, so it would discredit me as well!" he shot back. "I must have been out of my
were trembling. "Why does anyone steal?" he asked. "For monetary gain."
mind to propose to you!"
He walked out, still fuming. Nick's dark eyes never left Tabby's white face. "I don't think you did it,"
he reminded her.
She looked limp. "Thanks, Nick. For that," she added, glaring at him wearily, "not for making Daniel
think we're lovers."
"We'd be lovers if you were a little less rigid," he said easily. "Come on. I'll buy you lunch."
She was too tired to argue. Besides, there was little danger of any more romantic interludes in a
public place.
Or so she thought. But Nick had other ideas in mind. He bought a picnic lunch from a fried chicken
franchise and herded her into the nearby park, to a secluded area under a sprawling oak tree.
"Isn't this nice?" he asked while they ate warm chicken.
"Peaceful, at least," she agreed. If it hadn't been quite so isolated, she'd have minded less. A stream
flowed through and the gurgling of the water sounded quite close, mingled with the singing of birds
in the trees around them.
"You could use a little peace after your morning."
“Why did you have to let Daniel know you were with me when he called?" she asked miserably.
"Why try to hide it?" he countered. "He doesn't own you. My God, you don't even want him. He's only
using you to further his own career. A blind woman could see that, but apparently you can't."
"Why he wants me didn't matter at the time," she confessed. "I only wanted..."
"To spite me," he said for her, his dark eyes narrowing as he finished a third piece of chicken. He
wiped his hands and mouth on a napkin before he took a sip of coffee from a paper cup. "Maybe to
show me that you could get married if you wanted to. I slapped you down hard on New Year's Eve. I
don't blame you for doing something outlandish."
"I was drunk!"
He looked at her solemnly. "No. You wanted me. And I didn't want you."
"I know that, you don't have to rub it in," she said in a ghostly tone, averting her eyes to her own cup
of coffee.
He studied her, approving the way she looked in the prim green-and-white pattern shirtwaist dress she
was wearing. Her hair was bundled up on top of her head with a green scarf. She looked younger than
usual, and very flustered.
He smiled, lounging back against the tree. He'd removed the sports coat that went with his dark brown
slacks, and his tie with it. His white shirtsleeves were rolled up, the throat of his shirt unbuttoned. His
hair was windblown and he looked reckless and elegant, lying there.
"I didn't realize how potent you'd be if we ever started kissing, until that night," he continued. "I was
curious about you years ago, but every time I made a move, you backed away."
"You never made any moves," she countered.
"But I did. I can remember one particular instance, when I invited you to come up to law school for
the weekend and go to a party with me."
Her dark eyes met his. "You were teasing. You laughed even when you said it."
"And you blushed and mumbled something and rushed off," he agreed. "I was serious. I meant it."
"I'm sure you didn't have any shortage of partners," she said stiffly.
"No. But it was you I wanted. You made me ache when you were eighteen, Tabby," he said softly. "I
noticed you without any effort at all. But you were painfully shy of me. When I went to work for the
FBI, I tried again, but that was a disaster. I ran to Lucy in self-defense, to prove to myself that I was
still a man."
Her breasts rose and fell heavily with a long sigh. "They said you never got over her death."
"It was unexpected," he said. "And I was fond of her. We got along well enough. I might have married
her eventually." He searched Tabby's sad face. "But she was the consolation prize, nothing more. A
substitute for what I really wanted and couldn't have." He sat up suddenly, holding her eyes. "Haven't
you worked it out? I've spent years telling myself that you found me too frightening to touch. Then
New Year's Eve, you launched yourself on me and started kissing me, and I couldn't get away from
you fast enough. I couldn't believe that you really wanted me. I thought it was a drunken aberration."
"It was!"
He shook his head. "No." He lay back again and opened his arms. "Come here."
She froze, her lips trembling as she fought the temptation.
"Come on," he coaxed, smiling.
Her eyes widened. "I won't," she choked.
"Not enough temptation for you?" He paused to unbutton his shirt, watching her eyes go homing to
the thick pelt of hair on his strongly muscled chest as he tore the shirt away from it and let her look.
"Now, come here," he challenged softly, and held out his arms again.
She went to him against her better judgment. He pulled her down on him and found her mouth with
slow passion, opening it to the soft probe of his tongue.
She caught her breath and he felt it, and smiled. He eased her over, onto her back and while he kissed
her, his hand gently took the soft weight of her breast and caressed her as if she belonged to him.
"Touch me," he whispered roughly.
Her hands slid up and down over the thick hair, the warm muscle of him. She loved the way he felt,
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