His pain called to her. Maybe it was a female thing. Maybe it was a mom thing. Or maybe it was just how she felt when she was around him. Regardless of the cause, she put down her drink and moved closer.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, cupping his face in her hands and staring into his dark eyes. “You didn’t kill him.”

“It should have been me.”

“You keep saying that. It’s not as if the bullet had your name on it. It was circumstances, a quirk of fate. Yes, it’s horrible that Ben’s dead, but your suffering doesn’t bring him back. Based on the little you’ve told me about him, he wouldn’t want you doing it, either.”

“I don’t know. I think he might get a kick out of it.”

“Don’t be smart with me, mister.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Or you’ll what?”

In less time that it took for light to travel across the room, the mood shifted. What had been friendly and sharing became charged with emotion and sexual energy.

She was aware of how close they were, how she leaned against him and how her fingers touched his face. She could feel his heat and the stubble on his cheeks. His gaze locked with hers, drawing her in, grabbing her with the erotic threat of never letting her go.

Suddenly she didn’t want to be let go. She was tired of being sensible and thinking things through. Yes, he was the wrong man, but so what? She was used to that. She would deal with the consequences later.

She shifted so that she was on her knees, then dropped her hands to his shoulders. At the same time, she leaned in and pressed her mouth against his.

He had to have known what she was going to do and for a second she wondered if he would resist. But the instant her mouth brushed his, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap. Then she was sprawled across him, his tongue in her mouth and his hands everywhere.

He kissed her deeply, sensually, plunging into her as he mimicked the act of lovemaking. At the same time, he ran his palms up and down her legs. His long fingers seemed to touch every inch of her as they moved teasingly close to the apex of her thighs, then drifted away.

She clung to him, needing to hold something solid as her mind darted from sensation to sensation. She hadn’t been with a man since she’d left Neil and given birth to Zoe. Long-dead nerve endings exploded to life and begged for the sustenance of Walker’s touch.

Her br**sts swelled and her ni**les got so hard, they hurt. Between her legs she felt a gush of moisture. Her insides were heavy.

He broke the kiss and nibbled his way along her jaw. She tilted her head to give him more access, inviting him to continue. At the same time she longed to rip off her clothes so they could get right to it. She was ready—hell, she’d been ready for years.

He put his hands on her waist and urged her to sit up. Not sure what he was doing, she complied, only to have him shift toward the center of the sofa and then position her so she straddled him.

At first the beauty of the situation escaped her. Then, as she leaned in to kiss him and she felt his hands slide from her waist up her rib cage, it all became clear.

Even as his tongue circled hers, teasing, playing, inviting, he cupped her breasts. His large hands covered her curves. Exquisite pressure had her moaning. Every inch of her was so sensitized, she thought she might pass out from the pleasure of him touching her like that. When he brushed his thumbs against her nipples, it was all she could do not to scream.

Sensation rocked her. Her skin was on fire, yet she was so hungry, nothing was enough. She deepened their kisses, needing everything he had for her. He met her demands and clamped his lips around her tongue, then sucked hard.

More, she thought frantically. She needed more.

He read her mind, or maybe just the way she writhed against him. While he kept one hand on her breast, he moved the other between her legs.

Even through the layers of panties and jeans, she felt the pressure of his fingers. She pressed down and he pressed up and when he found that one spot of pleasure, she groaned.

A very tiny, sensible part of her brain told her this was not a good idea. That she would regret this later. But the part of her that had done without for so long didn’t really give a damn.

So when he unfastened the button on her jeans, she didn’t protest. And when he moved her to one side, she helped push them down. And when he slipped to the floor between her legs, turned to face her and bent low to kiss her intimately between her thighs, she could only breathe a prayer of thanksgiving.

The man knew what he was doing, she thought in relief as he pressed his tongue against her swollen center. He moved slowly, leisurely, forcing her to keep pace with him when her choice would have been to run as fast as possible to the finish.

He circled around, then returned to that one spot and began to lick it over and over. At the same time, he slipped a finger inside of her and rotated it.

One finger. That was all, but it was enough. Her muscles clamped around it and held on. Deep in her belly she felt a pulsing kind of tension. The kind that warned her she wasn’t going to hold on for very long.

“No,” she moaned. “Not yet.” She had to make this last longer than thirty seconds.

But she couldn’t. Not when he continued to rub his flat tongue against her sensitive flesh and she could feel his hot breath on her. Not when he thrust in and out of her, teasing her into an arousal that was surely going to make her explode.

She clutched the edge of the sofa and tried to think of something mundane. Laundry. Yeah, laundry. Then she imagined him taking off his clothes so she would do the laundry. She imagined him hard and na**d and plunging into her and she was gone.

At the first contraction, she drew her legs apart, exposing all of herself to him. She moaned, she held in a scream, she begged him never to stop.

When she’d wrung every last bit of pleasure from the experience, she put her feet on the floor and wondered what on earth she was supposed to say. Getting na**d hadn’t been on her to-do list, despite all the fantasies she’d had about him.

He rested a forearm on her bare thigh, kissed her belly and said, “I’d like to take credit for that, but I think it’s more a reflection of how long you’ve been out of the game.”

She felt a blush climbing her cheeks. “Yes, well, I’m sure it’s both.”

He rubbed his thumb across her mouth. “It just happened, Elissa. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Which meant what? That it didn’t mean anything to him or there was no pressure?

Her gaze dropped to his very obvious erection. “And for our second act,” she said lightly.

“No second act.”

He stood and then pulled her to her feet. She felt very strange, standing there na**d from the waist down.

“I wanted to do that,” he said. “I don’t get to do it enough.”

“But…”

“No buts.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m a guy who doesn’t want to get involved. You’re not the fuck-and-run type.”

Okay, but who would be doing the running? Him or her?

“We can’t just leave you like that,” she said.

“I’ve been through worse.”

“But we could…” Her voice trailed off as she wasn’t sure what she was offering.

“No, we couldn’t. Trust me. This is better.”

And then he was gone. The front door closed behind him, leaving her feeling exposed in more ways than just being undressed.

What had just happened? How could he do that to her and just leave?

CHAPTER TWELVE

REID GLANCED at the résumé in front of him. Sandy Larson, age thirty-five. She had a bunch of initials after her name, which he assumed was a good thing for a nurse.

So far he’d had three interviews with women who were qualified, but didn’t come close to having personalities that could stand up to Gloria. He was already bored with the process, so he was thinking he’d just hire them and call it a day.

Someone knocked on his office door promptly at ten-thirty. He glanced up and saw a tall, large-breasted blonde with big green eyes and a smile that could light up Chicago.

“It really is you,” she said with a laugh. “When I got the information from the service and they said Reid Buchanan, I’d hoped, of course, but I never dreamed I’d actually get a chance to meet you.”

She strolled into his office, her h*ps swaying in obvious invitation. “I’m Sandy and I’m a huge fan.”

He stood and walked around his large desk. “Really. Follow the game?”

“Less now that you’re not playing.” She held out her hand. “This is a real thrill for me.”

He took her fingers in his and held them longer than he should have. When the welcome in her eyes didn’t fade, he knew he was in.

“So you’re a nurse,” he said, leading her to the sofa in the corner.

“Uh-huh. About twelve years now. I did ten in a hospital and then I went into private duty nursing. I get to meet the most interesting people…like you.”

He sat down next to her on the leather and angled toward her. “My grandmother is a very demanding woman.”

“That’s okay. I’ve had crabby patients before. Mostly they’re mad about something. I’ve found if I can figure out what, I can deal with them.”

“Intuitive and smart. You’re quite a package.”

She smiled. “Do all the women fall for your lines?”

“Yes. Are you going to be an exception?”

“Now why would I want to do a stupid thing like that?”

ZOE WAS AS EXCITED as if it were Christmas morning. She’d climbed into Elissa’s bed shortly after five in the morning and demanded to know how long until they left.

While Elissa wrestled with a lot of unresolved feelings and questions, her daughter felt only the thrill of suddenly discovered grandparents. Now there was more family, potentially more people to play with and go out with and visit with. So many of her videos and DVDs involved extended families, and now Zoe could be a part of all that. Elissa understood her excitement and tried to respect it, but somehow she couldn’t shake the tightness she felt in her chest.

Of course it was hard to know how much of that was about her parents and how much of it was about what had happened with Walker. While she couldn’t regret the pleasure he’d given her, the circumstances were a little confusing. He’d been aroused, and she didn’t think he was involved with anyone. So why had he walked away like that when she’d made it clear she was interested in making things mutual? Were his reasons about her? Should she start getting a complex or checking out her butt in a mirror?

Considering the ice cream she’d downed after he’d left, the latter wasn’t a very good idea. And in an effort to be rational she had to admit his reasons might not be about her at all.

She paused in the act of stroking on mascara. “I need a vacation.” She shook her head, finished applying her makeup, then walked into her bedroom to get dressed.

Zoe had been ready since six-fifteen and she hadn’t gotten that way quietly, which meant Elissa had been up way too early after a fairly late night. Not that she’d slept. One would think that much pleasure would be mind-numbing, but not in her case. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what had happened.

“Mommy, hurry,” Zoe said from the doorway.

Elissa glanced at the clock. It was barely after eight. “Honey, we can’t get there until at least nine, which means we aren’t leaving until about eight-forty. Can you keep yourself busy until then?”

“Okay.”

Her daughter disappeared. Elissa debated what to wear. Jeans seemed too casual, but she didn’t want to put on a dress. Still, it seemed important to make a good second impression. Maybe khakis and a blouse.

Fifteen minutes later she’d chosen her clothes and had even used a round brush to give her hair a little curl. As she put away her blow-dryer, she realized the apartment was very quiet. Too quiet.

A quick search told her Zoe was not inside. Elissa stepped into Mrs. Ford’s kitchen, but her place was dark and still. Panic exploded as she debated what to do next, when she heard footsteps overhead. Not unusual, except that this time there were two sets.

As it was unlikely that Walker had left her living room and gone out to find someone to share his bed, she had a good idea who his visitor was.

Seconds later a smiling Zoe opened Walker’s door. “I told him about my new grandma and grandpa and he wants to come with us. Then he can meet them and they can meet him. Isn’t that great, Mommy?”

Elissa had planned to avoid her sexy neighbor for at least ten days. She didn’t know what to say after what had happened. “Thank you” seemed weird, but not acknowledging the subtle but measurable movement of the earth seemed rude.

The object of her musings stepped behind Zoe. “She’s pretty excited about all this,” he said.

Simple, polite words. Nothing to indicate that the previous night he’d kissed her so intimately, he’d made her see stars.

“She had me up at five,” Elissa said, then held out her hand. “Sorry she came up here to wait. Come on, honey, we should go finish getting ready.”

“I asked Walker to come with us,” Zoe said, ignoring her mother’s hand. “He should come with us. Grandma and Grandpa will want to meet him, too.”

Walker watched the emotions chase across Elissa’s face. She hadn’t planned on seeing him again so quickly, not after the previous night. She was embarrassed and confused and he would guess she didn’t understand why he’d ended things the way he had.

He wondered if she would feel better if she knew how hellish his night had been and how many times he’d started down the stairs to finish what they’d started.