They walked toward the kitchen. Charity found herself not wanting to go back to the group. The need to run and hide was fairly powerful and not very comfortable. But before she could think of an excuse, Crystal spoke.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“We have a fundraiser every year called Race for the Cure. We support childhood diseases, mostly cancer. I’m on the committee and we’re heading into our busy time. I can’t…” She glanced away and cleared her throat. “I’m really busy and don’t have the time I need. Anyway, I was wondering if I could talk you into taking my place.”

Charity was grateful Jo had told her about Crystal’s illness. With that information, she knew how to avoid misstepping.

“I’d love to be a part of that,” she said.

Crystal looked surprised. “I was prepared to twist your arm and everything.”

“I want to get involved with the community,” she said. “This gives me a perfect way to do something good while meeting people.”

“Then we both win,” Crystal said. “Thank you.”

A burst of laughter came from the living room.

“Looks like we’re missing the party,” Crystal said. “Shall we?”

Charity nodded and followed her back into the crowded room. She was determined to ignore her feelings of frumpiness, all of which could be healed fairly easily. Better to spend her time getting to know the women here. She wanted to fit in, and friends would make the transition easier.

Jo handed her the glass of white wine. “You’re way behind us on the drinking, young lady.”

“Then I’d better catch up.”

THREE HOURS LATER, Charity made her way back to the hotel. She was in a much more mellow mood, the result of plenty of laughter and maybe a bit too much wine. The women had been a lot of fun, she thought. Jo was great, as was Crystal. Katie had kept them laughing with stories about the potential disaster that was Howie. And Charity had let go her sense of living as a fashion don’t. She would go shopping over the weekend and see what people her age wore when they weren’t trying out for a religious order.

She reached the hotel and thought briefly about taking the elevator to the third floor. But she was determined to walk off the nacho calories she’d eaten at Jo’s.

On the second floor, she walked to the smaller staircase that would take her to the third. She’d barely taken two steps, when the lights went out.

The darkness was as absolute as it was unexpected. Charity heard doors open on the floor below and above, and people talking. There was more laughter than panic in their voices.

She kept hold of the railing and carefully continued to climb to her floor. Once there, she would probably be able to find her way to her room. Not that she was sure she could get in. Did a card key lock work off a battery or electricity?

When she neared what she thought was the top of the stairs, she went more slowly. She felt carefully with her foot, took another step and bumped into something warm and solid and male.

It took her brain less than a second to register the heat, size and scent of the man. Her belly flipped over, her thighs began to hum softly as her fingers curled tighter around the banister.

“You all right, Charity?” Josh asked.

Surprise joined the other sensations. “How did you know it was me?”

“Your perfume.”

Actually it was her hair conditioner, but saying that made her sound as conservative as her clothes, so she kept quiet.

“Don’t worry. The power will be on in a few minutes,” he said as he put his hand on hers. “You’re right by the top. Just one more step.”

She eased upward, propelled by desire as much as by muscle. When she was close to Josh, even floating seemed possible. Which meant she was in worse shape than she’d thought.

It was the wine, she told herself. She wasn’t herself. But maybe being herself was the problem. After all, every guy she’d ever cared about had treated her badly. They’d cheated or stolen and Ted had beaten her up. Just once, she reminded herself sternly. She’d left as soon as she’d picked herself up off the floor. Grabbed her purse and walked out, never once considering that she would go back.

“Charity?” Josh sounded puzzled. “You okay?”

“Yes. Sorry. Just thinking. I was at Jo’s and…”

He laughed. “Girls’ night out. Or in. Never mind. I know what happened. Margaritas?”

“White wine. Although Pia was doing the tequila thing.”

He put his arm around her as they moved into the hall. “Can you walk?”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Just happy?”

She was now, standing so close to him, feeling the strength of his body. He was the kind of guy who could sweep a woman up in his arms without breaking a sweat.

“I’m happy,” she whispered.

She sensed movement. In the darkness, it was hard to tell. But it felt like Josh wasn’t next to her anymore. That he was in front of her, and standing very, very close.

Fingertips lightly touched her cheek. The contact was delicious and she couldn’t help the little sigh that escaped her lips.

“You have no idea,” he murmured.

“About what?”

Instead of answering, he pressed his mouth to hers.

The contact was warm and firm and soft and just demanding enough. He kissed with an ease she couldn’t explain but knew meant he really liked the kissing thing. It wasn’t just a required step on the road to what he really wanted.

She probably should have been shocked, but she wasn’t. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was simply time to let the hormones do their thing. They’d sure been bugging her enough. So she relaxed against Josh, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to every erotic sensation pouring through her.

He dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her closer. She went willingly, closing those last few inches separating them. She parted her lips and he swept inside, touching her tongue with his.

Desire raced through her. She could barely keep herself from begging. He tasted like the chocolate mints that were left on her pillow every night and something a little stronger. Maybe Scotch.

She burned inside, the need bigger than she’d imagined possible. Her br**sts ached. That place between her thighs was swollen with need. Even as she kissed him back, stroking, learning, yielding, she wanted to ease him closer to her room. She wanted him na**d, inside of her, taking her just as hard as she took him.

The image was so clear, it was if they were already together. Muscles tensed in anticipation of her release. Her reaction was so powerful, it frightened her and she drew back. A heartbeat later, the lights went on.

They were in the third floor hallway. A few people stood in their doorways, and they applauded the return of modern life. Charity could only stare into Josh’s hazel-green eyes, wondering if hers were as bright, as filled with passion.

She knew what he was going to say. Or ask. Both their rooms were only a few feet away. But as much as she wanted him, she knew she couldn’t be one of the millions. Not and still have a little pride in the morning. Turning him down seemed impossible, so she did the only thing that made sense. She ran to her room and hurried inside. Then she stood with her back to the door and waited for her heart beat to finally slow to normal.

CHAPTER SEVEN

MARSHA WALKED INTO Charity’s office shaking her head. “I know, I know. I’m late. I was meeting with Tiffany.” Marsha sank into the chair opposite Charity’s desk and groaned. “I swear, that girl.” She waved a piece of paper. “All the people she wants to meet with, and she would love for me to make the introductions.”

Charity did her best not to laugh. “I know it’s difficult.”

“It’s beyond difficult. It’s humiliating to have our town’s problems featured in her thesis.”

“At least we’re only a chapter.”

“I know and I should be grateful, but there’s a part of me that wants to ask why we’re not good enough to be an entire book. Which is crazy. I must need medication.” She drew in a breath. “All right. Enough about Tiffany. How are you?”

“Better than you. I was going to get a bottle of water from the vending machine. Do you want something?”

“A martini. Which I happen to know we don’t stock. I’ll take an iced tea.” She raised her hand, then set it back on her lap. “I don’t have my purse with me.”

“My treat. I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you. I’ll sit here and practice my breathing in attempt to get my blood pressure below a thousand.”

Charity left her office and walked toward the vending machine. She hadn’t personally spent any time with Tiffany but she’d heard the grad student’s questions could be probing at best and a little annoying at worst.

She put the money into the vending machine and collected the drinks, then returned to her office.

“Thank you,” Marsha said gratefully as she took the bottle. “Is that outfit new? I really like the skirt.”

Charity told herself to simply accept the compliment without an explanation. Or at least not a detailed one. Her boss didn’t need to know about her realization that she’d spent the past couple of years totally ignoring her appearance.

“I drove to Sacramento and did some shopping over the weekend.”

The black pencil skirt was still professional, but it ended a couple of inches above her knees rather than five inches below. The pumps had a thinner heel and were about an inch higher than what she had been wearing. She’d had the white blouse for about a year, but it was fairly classic. Hanging on the back of her chair was the new cropped black-and-white pinstripe jacket. The tailored style emphasized her waist and made her feel both feminine and powerful.

“You look great. I’ve always had a fondness for clothing. I had a thing for leather for years, but I’m too old now. I would simply frighten people if I showed up in leather pants or, God forbid, fringe.”

Charity laughed as she sat down at her desk. “You could start a trend.”

“I’ll leave that to those of you still under thirty. Anyway, tell me how things are going. Do we have any new businesses moving here so I can tell Tiffany we’re no longer thesis worthy?”

“Not yet, but I’m working on it. I’ve been in touch with the hospital committee and they were very impressed. They’ve dropped one site completely, so now it’s down to us and one other contender. They’ll want to send a few different people to explore the town and see what we have to offer. I’m already putting together different tours.”

“A hospital. That would be impressive.”

“It was on your to-do list.”

Marsha sipped her tea. “I love it when people listen to me.”

“I’m sure everyone does. From what I can tell, the biggest concern the hospital committee has is about community support, so I’ll be dealing with that directly.”

“Excellent.”

Charity passed over a second file. “I’ve been meeting with a software company. They’re in San Jose and while they’d keep their headquarters there, they need to expand. A lot of the staff have expressed a desire for small-town life. They want to stay in California and be relatively close to the main office. So I have high hopes we can convince them to come here.”

“Software, huh?”

“Most computer geeks are guys.”

“True and I’ve always liked that type of man. Computer guys, engineers. They’re usually stable and dependable. Important qualities when it comes to marriage.”

Charity glanced at the other woman’s left hand. There wasn’t a ring. She started to ask, then thought it might be a little too personal. But Marsha must have noticed.

“Like many women in my generation, I married young,” Marsha said. “John was a sweet man. Probably too good for me, but he loved me unconditionally. We were so happy together. We had a daughter.” She paused, as if remembering a moment in the past. “How that man loved his little girl. We had plans for a big family, but he was killed in a car accident when our little girl was only three. I was pregnant at the time and the shock of losing him caused me to miscarry.” Marsha pressed her lips together. “It was a difficult time.”

Charity was shocked to hear about the tragedy. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. Now I just have good memories, but for a while I didn’t think I could survive the double loss. My baby girl helped pull me through, just by needing me. And I had the town.”

Marsha smiled at her. “John and I had both been born here, so when I lost him, so did the community. They rallied. About a year later, someone put me on the ballot for the city council. I think it was to shock me out of my depression. I never campaigned, but somehow I won. I went to my first meeting with the idea that I would resign, but somehow I got sucked into it all. Here I am, some forty years later, still working in city government.”

“I’m glad you are. You do a terrific job.”

“You’re kind to say that.”

Charity wanted to ask about Marsha’s daughter, but as she’d never heard her mentioned, she didn’t. She was a little afraid something bad had happened to her, too.

“I have a lot of friends,” Marsha continued. “This has always been my home. So even with John gone, I belonged. I hope you’re getting a sense of that belonging yourself.”

“I’m really enjoying myself, getting to know people.”

“Making friends?”