Книга - The Drifter

The Drifter
Kate Hoffmann








About the Author


KATE HOFFMANN has been writing for Mills & Boon since 1993. Since then she’s published sixty books, primarily in the Temptation and Blaze® lines. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys music, theatre, and musical theatre. She is active working with high-school students in the performing arts. She lives in southeastern Wisconsin with her two cats, Chloe and Tally.





Dear Reader,

When I began this trilogy, I was looking forward to writing three books set in three different seasons—winter, spring and summer. But with my writing schedule, I never seem to be writing the books in the season in which they’re set.

The first book of this trilogy, set in a snowbound cabin, was written during the heat of August. This book, set in the Colorado springtime, was written as the leaves were turning and the first frost set in. And the next book, set in Chicago in the summer, will no doubt be written while the snow is flying. I guess you could say I’m seasonally challenged.

Whatever the season, I find the escape of writing just as much fun as a vacation. So enjoy this trip to Boulder, Colorado. I’ve only been there once, but it was a great place to visit.

Happy reading,

Kate Hoffmann




The Drifter


Kate Hoffmann




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For my ever-patient editor, Brenda Chin.


Table of Contents

Cover (#u515b7738-c7d7-51fa-81df-7f73843052c8)

About the Author (#u6183fe59-f4ba-5b94-ae98-17eb96e5059d)

Title Page (#u6aad841b-8dd5-5936-8998-afd76a921005)

Dedication (#uddffa83a-305f-5117-a330-d98c279c6e18)

Prologue (#u29c4d193-745f-505c-a485-e8ae085c28e4)

Chapter One (#ud70db157-312e-5e99-b1ab-aba63450827c)

Chapter Two (#u21976539-ec29-507d-9808-79532718738f)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




Prologue


“IT’S GOT TO BE SIMPLE and concise,” Angela Weatherby said as she slowly twirled around in her desk chair. “The name has to encompass all the traits that make up this guy. He’s a wanderer, he can’t settle down. He’s always searching for the next big thrill, whether it’s climbing a mountain or seducing a beautiful woman. He freely admits that he doesn’t want to commit, yet women fall for him again and again and again.”

Now that her SmoothOperators Web site was such a success, Angela had found it much easier to work on the book she was writing. She’d chosen a title—Spotting the Smooth Operator: A Woman’s Guide to Avoiding Dating Disasters. She’d developed ten solid archetypes of the smooth operator. But, according to her editor, she needed to come up with clever names for each. The chapter on the Charmer had already been written and she’d moved on to the next in line, then become stuck on the header.

“So he’s a wanderer,” said Celia Peralto, Angie’s business partner and webmaster. “A … nomad?”

“That makes him sound like he’s tending sheep instead of seducing women. How about the Traveler?”

Celia shook her head. “Sounds like some stuffy businessman.”

A long silence grew between them. Ceci had been an invaluable help on the book and was always happy to brainstorm ideas. But this one had them both stumped. “It’s on the tip of my tongue,” Angela said. “He’s a … a …” She groaned and closed her eyes, clearing her mind. “He’s a—drifter!”

She opened her eyes to find Ceci grinning at her. “That’s it,” Ceci said. “He’s a drifter. I like it. He can’t settle down, he moves from one woman to the next, he’s footloose and irresponsible and every woman thinks she’ll be the one to change him.”

“But no one can,” Angela said.

“Well, there’s always an exception to the rule,” Ceci said. “If there wasn’t, there would be a bunch of eighty-year old guys hopping from bed to bed, seducing any woman they could find.” She paused. “There was a post on the Web site this morning. Alex Stamos has officially stepped out of the dating pool. His sister added a note to his profile saying that he’s getting married.”

“Well, it’s good I never got to interview him, then,” Angela said.

When she’d decided to do anonymous and anecdotal interviews with each of her “types,” Alex had been first on her list. He’d been the perfect example of a “Charmer.” Unfortunately, she’d never been able to talk to him and had to settle for a car salesman from Arlington Heights and a bartender from DePaul.

“You don’t believe men can change, do you?” Ceci asked.

“I used to think they could,” Angela admitted. “But how many profiles do we have on the site? Tens of thousands and yet, only a few men make the transformation from smooth operator to devoted husband. I’ve had just enough bad experiences to make me cynical.”

“Don’t you hope that someday you’ll find a great guy, someone who won’t treat you like a commodity?”

Angela sighed. In her heart of hearts, she still wanted to believe there was someone out there for her. But she was slowly creeping toward thirty and she knew the odds. The older she got, the smaller the bachelor pool became, until all that was left in the water were the bottom feeders and leeches and poisonous snakes. She was a practical girl who had let go of her fairy-tale dreams a long time ago.

“Of course I do,” Angela murmured. “But I’m not going to hold my breath.”

“A more optimistic attitude might help,” Celia said. She crawled out of her chair and pulled Angela to her feet. “Go ahead. Close your eyes, click your heels together and say it three times. I will fall in love with a great man, I will fall in love with a great man, I will fall in love with a great man.”

Angela laughed and pulled her hands out of Ceci’s grip. “You’re a hopeless romantic. How can you do your job and not see that finding a good guy is like looking for diamond in a pile of dipsticks?”

Ceci sighed. “All right. Maybe it’s better you hate men, at least until this book is done.”

“I don’t hate men.”

Reaching across her desk, Ceci snatched up a magazine and tossed it at Angela. “You wanted to interview a drifter?” She pointed to the picture on the cover of Outdoor Adventure magazine. “Charlie Templeton. He has a huge profile on our site. And he is a classic example. He’s doing a couple lectures at the university in Boulder, Colorado. I figure you could fly out there, corner him and get him to talk.”

Angela peered at the photo. “God, he is gorgeous.”

“He is,” Ceci said. “Of course, if you’d rather, I could fly out there and interview him.”

“No. I’ll do it. If I surprise him, maybe he’ll agree to talk.”

Angela set the magazine down, then went back to scanning the newest profiles created on the Web site. Who would have known that a silly little blog chronicling her dating woes would have turned into a thriving business? She ought to be grateful to every guy who ever dumped her for giving her the opportunity of a lifetime.

There was one chapter she wasn’t ready to write, though. One that brought up all sorts of memories. She needed time to prepare for her memories of Max Morgan, the Sexy Devil. Time to work up the courage to call him for an interview. Would he even remember her?

All through high school, she’d had a secret crush on him and he’d never once noticed her. He’d been the most popular guy, the star athlete, the boy every girl dreamed of kissing. She’d followed him to college at Northwestern, attending all his football and baseball games, taking every opportunity to put herself in his path. Looking back on it, her behavior probably could have been considered stalking.

“Do you want me to make reservations?” Ceci asked.

“What? Oh, for Boulder? Yes. And do the hotel, too. Do that thing you do when you get the really good rates. If Charlie Templeton won’t talk, I don’t want to regret wasting money on a nice hotel room.”

She hadn’t been able to snag Alex Stamos, but she’d learned from her mistakes. The best way to catch a smooth operator was to eliminate any means of escape. They called it ambush journalism, but Angela preferred to think of it as just a way to get the job done.




1


CHARLIE TEMPLETON STOOD at the top of the world. Literally. He sucked in a deep breath from the oxygen mask covering his face. The air was thin at 28,740 feet and after climbing for nearly twelve hours, all he really wanted to do was lie down and sleep. But he knew the risks of taking just a moment or two of relaxation. Many climbers had died ascending Mount Everest, but the descent was even trickier.

Exhausted, his body depleted of energy reserves, cold, hungry and mentally numb, Charlie knew all the dangers. The thought of dying on the face of the world’s tallest mountain had haunted his nightmares. But now that he was here, it didn’t seem all that frightening. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift. Just a moment was all he needed.

Everest was the last on his list of seven summits. He’d attempted the climb twice in the past, but had been forced to stop because of weather. But when he’d stepped out his tent at midnight, ready for the final push to the top, he’d known today would be the day.

For an adventurer, there was no higher goal than bagging the seven summits—the tallest peak on each continent. He’d written about his quest for the adventure Web site Adrenaline and had done numerous speaking engagements at college campuses all over the U.S., all to fund his trips. He had a pair of lectures scheduled in just a few weeks at the university in his hometown of Boulder and he was banking on the fact that he’d arrive fresh off the top of Everest, ready to tell of his adventure.

But now that he’d accomplished his goal, Charlie was left to wonder what it all meant. He didn’t feel the way he’d expected—elated, awestruck, satisfied, humbled. In truth, Charlie didn’t feel anything.

He unsnapped his oxygen mask and pushed it aside, then shoved his goggles to the top of his head, taking in the view and waiting for the impact of the moment to hit him. It was all there, more stunning than he’d ever imagined it. Below him was the Rongbuck glacier and the North Col, and to the north horizon, the vast Tibetan plateau. He slowly turned, to the west and then the south, finishing with the most breathtaking view of all—the highest peaks of the Himalayas, jagged and snow-covered, jutting into the thin atmosphere to the east.

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. An image flashed in his brain and he gasped. A face from the past. Charlie brushed it aside. God, he must really be oxygen-deprived to think of her at a time like this. He hadn’t spoken to Eve Keller in more than five years, not since the night before he departed for his first attempt at Everest.

Maybe that was it. He’d completed the circle and he was back to where he’d begun. Or was it something more? Charlie had learned to live his life without regrets. It wasn’t easy, but he’d had to put aside relationships in order to focus on his ambitions. It hadn’t seemed like a sacrifice at the time, but now that he’d come to the end of his quest, he had to wonder if it had all been worth it.

“Evie,” he murmured. She’d been the one person who’d tempted him, the one relationship that might have changed the course of his life. Hell, if he’d stayed with her, he’d probably be married with two or three kids by now.

“Charlie!” He opened his eyes to find his Sherpa guide waving at him. “Come. Up here long enough. We start down.”

“Just give me a few more minutes,” Charlie replied.

“Put mask back on,” Pemba Ang said, his heavily accented words muffled by his oxygen mask.

“No. It gets in the way. I’m all right. I am. Don’t worry. Just a few more minutes.”

The guide studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Few minutes. Stay up here for half hour already. We must go.”

Had it been that long? Time seemed to be slipping through his fingers at an alarming rate. It seemed like just days ago that he’d graduated college and now he was fast approaching thirty.

Charlie turned again, slowly, taking in more of the view. It was over. He was finally finished. He had the rest of his life in front of him and no plans for how he’d spend it. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? What would he do with his time? There was always the “Second Seven,” the second-highest peaks on each continent. But was he willing to invest another five years of his life?

“Charlie!”

The words echoed in his ears. But in the thin air, it didn’t sound like Ang at all. It sounded sweet and soft, tantalizing. Funny how he still remembered her voice. There’d been so many other women since Eve, women he’d easily forgotten. Yet she was still there, indelibly imprinted into his brain.

Charlie stared down the route of their descent, his footprints still visible in the snow. He still had to get down the mountain and he knew the dangers. Fatigue, the weather, cerebral edema, snow blindness, avalanches, crevices that could swallow a man in the blink of an eye. A successful ascent didn’t guarantee a safe descent. But what was waiting for him at the bottom? Would anyone really care that he’d made it up to the top and back again?

Did she even remember him? Did she think of him at all or had the passion they’d shared been replaced by the love she felt for … hell, what was his name? Dave? Dan? Odd that he couldn’t remember. She’d married him, chosen security and dependability over uncertainty. He hadn’t blamed her for making the safe choice. She deserved better than a man who warmed her bed every six months in between adventures.

“Charlie! Move. We head down.”

“I’m thinking I might stay here,” he said, sitting down in the snow.

“Get ass up!” Ang shouted, grabbing his arm and tugging. “I not leave you here. You walk down or I carry. Kill us both.”

“Who’s waiting for you?” Charlie asked.

Ang reached for Charlie’s oxygen bottle and turned up the flow, then held the mask over his face. “Breathe. Clear head.”

“I’m perfectly clear,” Charlie said, waving him off. “Do you have a wife, kids?”

“Wife,” Ang muttered. “We marry last year.”

“And she’s all right with this? She doesn’t mind that you tramp up and down Mount Everest.”

“This my last trip. We have baby. I tell wife, no more. I save money from many climbs, we open laundry in Namche. We have happy life. Grow old together.” He held out his arm and pointed to his watch, strapped over his sleeve. “See? We leave now. You move or I roll you down to base camp.”

“No one would care if I didn’t make it down,” Charlie said.

“I would,” Ang said. “I never lose client.” He helped Charlie to his feet. “Maybe, you need wife. Someone who care. Maybe kids. Can’t do that frozen to mountain. You go find happy. Find girl you love.”

“No,” Charlie said. “I think I had her once, but I let her go.”

“Two years back, I love my girl. Another man love her, too. I make her see we have happy life together. All is well.”

For an instant, Charlie’s mind cleared. What was to stop him? Maybe that’s what he needed to do. Go back and figure out if he had made the wrong choice that night five years ago. And if he had, try to fix it. Suddenly, he had a reason to get down the mountain. He’d go see Eve. He’d figure out why it was her face he’d seen.

“All right,” Charlie said, clapping Ang’s shoulder. “Let’s get off this damn mountain.” He snapped his oxygen mask back in place and pulled his goggles down over his eyes.

In a week’s time, he could be back in Boulder, Colorado. Back where it all began. Then maybe he’d figure out what he was supposed to do with the rest of his life.

“LONELY GUY AT TABLE SEVEN. And he’s a hottie!”

Eve Keller glanced over her shoulder at her best friend and business partner, Lily Winston, then shook her head. “In case you haven’t heard, the Garden Gate is one of the best restaurants in Boulder according to a recent article in the Denver Post.”

“Oh, yes,” Lily teased. “But I hear the chef at the Garden Gate is turning into a bit of diva. Television appearances, interviews in foodie magazines, a new cookbook and a possible television series for the Food Channel. Her partner has been having trouble finding toques that fit her ever-expanding head. Of course, she can’t be bothered with something as mundane as a handsome man.”

“One of the reasons we’ve been successful is that we focus on outstanding food and impeccable service. Not hitting on the customers,” Eve said.

“I’m not looking to date him,” Lily said. “I’m perfectly happy with Will. I’m just looking to … look. God, he’s gorgeous. You should go out there and ask him if he likes his curried carrot soup.”

Eve groaned. Since her divorce three years ago, she hadn’t put much effort into dating. In truth, she’d put more thought into becoming a NASA astronaut than she had searching for a new man. Not that she didn’t have a perfectly valid excuse for living like a nun. Her restaurant was growing in popularity. She’d already published one vegetarian cookbook and was working on another. Add to that the seminars she taught at three different cooking schools on the West Coast and there wasn’t much time for a social life. She was even in preliminary talks with an investment group about opening a new restaurant in Seattle and hosting a cable show on the Food Channel.

Men had simply drifted to the bottom of the list of important things on her agenda. After the mess that had been her marriage and the bigger mess that had been her divorce, Eve wasn’t sure she ever wanted to allow a man into her life again.

“Just take a look,” Lily said, pulling Eve away from the prep table. “You’ve been living in my guest room for three years. I see your social life first hand and it’s pathetic. Last week you alphabetized the spices on my spice rack. The week before, you cleaned the grease trap on the kitchen sink. You need to get a life, Eve.”

“I have a life. Here. In this restaurant.”

“This isn’t life. It’s work.” Lily gently took the knife from her hand and set it next to the red peppers Eve had been chopping. Then she reached up and snatched the colorful bandanna off Eve’s head. “Go ahead,” she said, ruffling Eve’s short-cropped auburn hair. “Just wander on out there, smile at the customers, and ask him how his soup is.” Lily shoved a basket of quick breads into her hand. “Offer him some three-grain nut loaf.”

Eve knew she ought to spend more time in the dining room. All the best chefs interacted with their clientele. But life inside the confines of the kitchen was so much easier than life in the outside world. She peeked though the window of the swinging door, searching for the object of Lily’s attention.

When her gaze finally found the lonely guy at table seven, her breath caught in her throat. “Oh, God,” she muttered, turning away from the door.

“You don’t think he’s cute?” Lily asked. “Oh, good grief, Eve, if you’re that picky you’re never going to have sex again for the rest of your life.”

“Yes, he’s cute,” Eve snapped. “But I’m not going out there.”

“Why?” Lily asked, taking a peek through the window. “Too cute?”

“Too … everything,” Eve said, shoving the basket back into Lily’s hands. “Been there, done that.”

Lily gasped. “You know him?”

Eve nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. In every sense of the word. I have seen him naked and trust me, the body matches the face. Utterly and unbelievably gorgeous.” A shiver skittered down her spine at the memory. There’d been a time when she’d had that body in her bed, lying on her sofa, standing in front of his refrigerator looking for something to eat at three in the morning.

“But … I don’t understand.”

Eve took Lily’s arm and led her over to the walk-in fridge, then pulled open the door. “Go ahead. I’m not going to spill my secrets unless we have complete privacy.” They stepped inside and Eve closed the door behind her.

Lily rubbed her bare arms. “If this is going to be a long story, I’m going to need a jacket.”

“Remember that night, after we got the good review in Food and Wine, and we drank those two bottles of Mendocino Monastery Reserve Cabernet? And I told you about that guy, the one right before I married Matt?”

“The ‘one last fling’ guy?” Lily asked. “That’s him?”

Eve nodded. “Charlie Templeton.”

“You dumped him for Matt?” Lily stared at her as if she’d just admitted to serving puppy fritters with kitten aioli to the customers. “Dweeby, whiny, needy Matt?”

“I didn’t know he was like that when I married him. He seemed—dependable. It was only after the wedding I realized he was looking for a mother, not a wife. And Charlie was everything a girl is supposed to be afraid of. After a month of nonstop sex, he told me he was going to be gone for six months. At the time, I needed a man who’d be there for more than a bi-annual sexfest.”

“Semi-annual,” Lily corrected. “And now he’s back.”

“Five years later. Five years and not a word. No phone call, no postcard. Now can you understand my decision?”

“Why do you think he came back?”

Eve had a niggling suspicion. In truth, she wasn’t proud of what she’d done. And it had come after another very expensive bottle of wine and an evening of feeling sorry for herself. She’d happened upon a Web site called SmoothOperators.com, a place where women could off-load all their dating horror stories. She’d been so fed up with men that night, she’d created a profile for every bad date she’d ever been on, full of all the tiny details describing the men who’d done her wrong. And Charlie Templeton had been at the top of the list. In many ways, she blamed him for her bad marriage and painful divorce.

Had he stayed, maybe just a few days more, even a week, she might have realized that marrying Matt was the wrong choice. She would have come to understand that passion was much more important than security.

“It could just be coincidence,” Eve murmured. “The last time he was here, I was just head chef. He doesn’t know I own the restaurant now.”

“Or maybe he does and he’s come to see you. You won’t know unless you go out there and talk to him.”

A knock sounded on the walk-in door. Lily grabbed the handle and opened the door. “We’re almost done,” she called.

Eve saw Sarah, their best waitress, standing outside and she stepped around Lily. “We are done,” she said. “What do you need?”

“There’s a gentleman at table seven who’d like to speak to the chef. I think he might know you.”

“See,” Lily said. “I told you he came here for a reason.” She grabbed Eve’s arm and steered her out the door. “Fluff up your hair, you still have hat head. And put on a fresh jacket. On second thought, don’t wear the jacket.”

Lily reached for the buttons and Eve slapped her hands away. “Have you been spending time with my mother? Because you’re beginning to sound exactly like her.”

She slipped out of her jacket and tossed it over a stool at the prep table, then ran her fingers through her short-cropped hair. For the first time since her divorce, she regretted not paying more attention to her make-up and wardrobe. Eve had always relied on her natural beauty to get by. So much for taking Charlie’s breath away.

Gathering her resolve, she pushed on the swinging door and stepped out into the dining room. The Garden Gate was a different restaurant during the daylight hours. Sheets of butcher paper replaced the linen tablecloths. A mish-mash of colorful ceramic stoneware stood in for the more elegant and refined china and crystal they used for the dinner crowd.

He looked up as she approached and her breath caught in her throat. She’d never forgotten those eyes, pale blue and penetrating, as if he could see right inside her soul. And that hair, thick and wavy and streaked by the sun. He was dressed casually, in a faded polo shirt and cargo pants.

Eve pasted a smile on her face. It wouldn’t do to seem rattled by his appearance. She’d treat him like any other customer. But try as she might, Eve couldn’t forget that this was a customer who had once made her moan with pleasure, who had taken her to places she’d never been sexually. She drew a shaky breath. “Hello, Charlie.”

He stood, dropping his napkin on the table. “Hi, Eve.” Before she could react, he stepped toward her and placed a kiss on her cheek, his fingers skimming down her bare arm. “It’s good to see you.”

Eve’s heart slammed her chest and she glanced down at the spot where his fingers had made contact. For a long moment, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Then she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Look at that. You’re out of water. I’ll go get you another glass.”

When she reached the safety of the kitchen, Eve headed right back to the walk-in fridge, ignoring the curious glances of the kitchen staff before slamming the door behind her. She sat down on a crate of potatoes and buried her face in her hands. After all this time, he still had the ability to make her pulse race and her head spin.

How many times had she thought of him over the past five years? As her marriage had deteriorated, he’d come to mind more and more often. She’d been left to wonder whether incredible sex twice a year might have been better than a husband who’d cheated on her with a series of college co-eds.

Her choice to marry Matt had been the biggest mistake of her life. In truth, she hoped that by accepting Matt’s proposal, Charlie might make a counteroffer. When he didn’t, she decided that Matt was a reasonable alternative. Though they didn’t share a wild, uncontrollable desire for each other, she and Matt shared the same goals—buying their own restaurant and turning Eve Keller into a household name.

When a knock sounded on the fridge door, Eve pushed to her feet. “I’m done,” she called. “Come on in.”

The door opened and to Eve’s astonishment, Charlie stepped inside, holding an empty glass. “I’m sorry, but I was getting really thirsty out there and you said you were bringing me water and I—” He closed the door and leaned back against it. Slowly, he took a deep breath, then let it out, the air clouding in front of his face. “You’re more beautiful than I remembered, Evie.”

Eve stiffened her spine. Evie. A tremor rocked her body and she rubbed her arms. She remembered how he’d whispered her name as he moved inside of her, his voice inviting her to join him. Come on, Evie. Come with me. Let go.

“What are you doing here? It’s been five years without a word. And now you show up and expect me to fall for that cheesy line?”

He glanced around and chuckled. “That’s right. You don’t serve cheese in this restaurant.”

“Actually, we do. We went from strict vegan to organic vegetarian when I bought the restaurant. And on weekends we also serve fish and seafood.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I try to pay you a compliment.” He stepped toward her. “I just wanted to stop by and say hello. And let you know that I’ve been thinking of you.”

“Of me?” she asked. “Or of a warm body to spend the next month in your bed?” Eve turned and began to rearrange the cheese on the shelf in front of her. “I’m not going to fall for that again,” she said, waving a wedge of Camembert at him.

“Are you angry with me?” Charlie asked. “Because, as I recall, you made the choice to marry Dan. Or Dave.”

“Matt. His name was Matt.”

“Was? What, did he get hit by a bus while I was gone?”

She scowled. “Is!”

“You said was. Past tense. Now, either he met with some unfortunate accident or you’re no longer married to him. Which is it, Evie?”

“Stop calling me that! And it’s none of your business!” she snapped. She walked past him on wobbly legs, but he quickly stepped in front of her to block her escape. She took a deep breath, trying to still her body’s trembling. “Why are you here? If it’s about the Web site, I was—”

“What Web site?”

She risked a glance up at him. “Never mind. I meant—”

He reached out and smoothed his hand over her cheek. Then, before Eve could continue, he bent close and dropped a kiss on her lips. As if that weren’t nearly enough, he kissed her again, this time, more purposefully.

His tongue gently tasted and Eve parted her lips and let him delve more deeply. Her body felt boneless, weak and lacking any power to resist him. Charlie knew how to kiss a woman. And he knew exactly how to kiss her. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his, aching for his warmth and willing to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

Eve didn’t care what had brought him back to her. In truth, she didn’t even care if he was about to walk out of her life for another five years. All she wanted was this kiss. She could live for a long time off just one kiss.

Since the divorce had been finalized two years ago, she’d avoided men. But now that one had presented himself, Eve realized how much she’d been missing. She loved the feel of a man’s body, the warmth and the strength, the scent of his cologne, the sensation of his hair slipping through her fingers. And then there was the delicious wash of desire that raced through her at his touch.

Was it just Charlie? Or would she have had this reaction to any man? When he finally drew back, Eve opened her eyes and looked up to find a bemused smile twitching at his lips. “I was right,” he murmured. “It’s not finished, is it?”

“What?”

“I have to go,” Charlie said. “I’ll be back, though.”

Eve gasped. Was this some kind of test? “When? A year from now? Five years? Don’t think you can just waltz in here and kiss me and—”

He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her again, effectively stopping her outburst. “Later. Tonight. Right now, I have some important things to do.” With that, he turned and slipped out the door.

Eve stared out into the kitchen. The staff was assembled around the prep table, watching her with curious gazes. “He’s an old friend,” Eve explained. “He just stopped by to say hello.” She rolled her eyes. “Just get back to work.”

She hurried out of the walk-in and snatched up her jacket. As she slipped her arms through the starched white sleeves, Eve thought about all that had happened in the past ten minutes. Her life had been right on track, everything in perfect order, and then, in the blink of an eye, it had all changed.

If it hadn’t been her posting on the SmoothOperators Web site, what had brought him back to Boulder? Would it be foolish to think he came back just to see her? Eve shook her head and picked up her knife.

What did it matter? Charlie Templeton wasn’t the type to want a traditional relationship—a marriage, a house, a family. No matter what transpired over the next few days, he’d be gone again and she’d be alone, left to carry on as if nothing happened.

Eve set the knife down, pausing to let the notion sink in. Five years ago, she had looked upon that possibility as a negative. But now, Eve had to admit that it might just be exactly what she needed. A wild and exciting sexual affair with no strings attached.

The possibility of falling in love again frightened her. She’d made two mistakes—falling for Charlie in the first place and deluding herself into believing that she loved Matt. Three strikes and she’d be out, unable to trust anyone for the rest of her life. If she fell in love again, it would have to be with a man who wouldn’t hurt her.

Eve drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had tried so hard to avoid the mistakes that her parents had made with their marriage. Her father had cheated on her mother for as long as she could remember. And for almost as long, her mother had been aware of what he’d been doing and had just looked the other way.

Charlie had been the wrong choice. Matt had been the wrong choice. Until the right choice came along, she wasn’t going to risk her heart again. She paused. But what if she kept her heart out it? What if she indulged in a purely sexual relationship with Charlie?

Eve smiled to herself. It was an option she ought to consider. Two years was far too long to go without sex. But great sex every six months might be exactly enough. “I have a lot of catching up to do,” she murmured to herself.

CHARLIE GLANCED AT HIS WATCH, illuminating the face to see the numerals in the dark.

“You keep looking at the time,” Jack said. “Do you have somewhere you need to be?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve got a … a date.”

His old friend chuckled then shook his head. “You’ve been in town for less than twenty-four hours and you already have a date. Jeez, you move fast.”

“It’s not like that,” Charlie said. “She’s an old friend. She runs a restaurant downtown and she finishes work at eleven. I’m going to stop by and invite her out for a drink.”

After what had happened earlier that day, Charlie had decided to proceed slowly. Eve had made it clear that she still harbored a few grudges. And she had every right. He’d walked out of her life five years ago after an incredible month together, and then never called or wrote. On the other hand, she had decided to marry another man, so contact probably would have been inappropriate.

He’d been given a second chance. They were both single and he had some time on his hands. And he needed to know just where this all might lead. He wasn’t going to mess it up by seducing her on the first date.

“And here, I thought you came back to town to see your old buddy Jack.”

“Actually, I came back to Boulder to give a couple of lectures at the university. Seeing the girl again is just a bonus.”

“How’s your mom?”

“She’s doing well,” Charlie said. “Now that I’m home for a while, I’ll have time to go out to visit her in San Diego. I called her this morning. She was glad to hear the seven summits was done. I stopped telling her about the climbs until after they were through. She worries too much.”

“You always were a thrill junkie,” Jack said. “My son is like that. Last summer, he jumped off the garage roof into our swimming pool. I didn’t know what to do. He was so proud of himself.”

“How old is he?” Charlie asked.

“Eight,” Jack said.

It was hard to believe that Jack had a eight-year-old son, or that he’d been married nearly ten years. He and Jack had been friends since their freshman year at UC. Charlie had left Boulder after graduation, but Jack had stuck around to get his masters and then a doctorate. Now he taught mathematics at the university. “Could you stand another beer?” Charlie asked. “I don’t have to leave yet.”

He pushed to his feet and walked into the house. The interior of the three-bedroom bungalow brought back a flood of memories from his childhood. The last time he was in Boulder, he’d come to help his widowed mom get packed up to make her move to San Diego, to a condo near his sister’s place. He’d decided to buy the house from her and she’d given him an outrageously low price, considering the real-estate market in Boulder.

He’d intended to fix up the house and sell it, but he’d never gotten around to calling an agent. He’d met Evie and spent an entire month in bed with her. Had he known, somewhere deep inside, that he’d be back someday? That he’d want and need a place to call home?

Most of his belongings were scattered around the country, some in the attic here in Boulder, some in Chicago with his brother, and the rest in his mother’s storage locker at her condo. He lived out of a backpack and didn’t possess a single item larger than the rear cargo area of his ten-year-old Jeep.

This was the only place that felt like home. After his father had died when he was ten, his mother had been forced to sell the big house they’d lived in and rented the ramshackle bungalow on Tenth Street. Without any source of income, she’d gone back to school and got a teaching degree, while Charlie and his two younger siblings were left to fend for themselves. She’d scraped together enough to buy the home from their generous landlord and lived there until the last of her children had graduated from UC.

His sister worked at a large advertising agency in San Diego and his brother was a trader in downtown Chicago. Charlie’s profession, on the other hand, was best described as an adventurer-slash-writer. An after-school program in rock climbing had led to his interest in outdoor adventure and living in Boulder gave him plenty of opportunities to hone his skills as a climber.

Charlie snagged a few beers from the fridge, then grabbed a bag of chips he’d bought on a quick trip to the grocery store. Though the house had been shut up since the renters left six months ago, the cool breeze blowing through the open windows had carried away the last traces of musty air.

When he got back to the porch, he handed Jack a beer, then sat down on the plastic chair, kicking his feet back up on the porch railing. “Thanks for taking care of the house.”

“I thought you were planning to sell it.”

“I was. But it never seemed like the right time.”

“It’s kind of silly to keep it,” Jack said. “You’re never here. And it’s probably worth close to a million if you’d fix it up a little bit.”

Charlie shrugged. “I’m thinking of staying for a while. I’ll get a little work done around here, relax and—”

“Who is she?” Jack interrupted. “And what has she done to the Charlie Templeton I’ve always known.”

“It’s not like that. I’ve just been … reevaluating.” He took a sip of his beer, wondering how much he wanted to reveal. Hell, he wasn’t sure how he felt, but Charlie knew something had changed inside him. The circuit in his brain that had caused him to wander the world, searching for the next big thrill, had been switched off. “I was standing on top of Everest and I couldn’t believe it.”

“Man, that must have felt incredible.”

That was the problem, Charlie mused. It hadn’t felt incredible. But kissing Evie had. Just pulling her into his arms and feeling her warm, soft body against his had been … thrilling. Through all his adventures, he’d never felt that. Satisfaction, yes. Pride, of course. But nothing had matched that first kiss in the restaurant refrigerator.

“It didn’t,” Charlie said. “I’d achieved everything I’d ever wanted and it didn’t make me happy.”

“What are you, freakin’ crazy? You get paid to do stuff I can only dream about. You have no responsibilities. You decide you want to go surfing in Australia and you’re there the next day. Jenny and I have been planning to go to Banff for nearly a year and we still haven’t picked a date. Taking a family of four on a vacation is like planning a military invasion.”

“But you like it, right? The wife, the family. It’s all good?”

“Sure,” Jack replied. “I’m not saying it’s easy, or that every day is a disaster. Or that I don’t envy you on those nights when the kids are sick or when Jenny is mad about something. But I don’t know what I’d do if they weren’t in my life.”

“That’s the thing,” Charlie said, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. “You’ve got someone, someone who cares that you walk in the door at night.”

“You have family,” he said.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s not the same. Family is required to love you. They don’t have a choice. Besides, they consider me the black sheep in the family. The sibling who never quite grew up. I want someone who needs me.”

“Jenny says men chase immortality. That’s why we look at younger women, why we’re afraid of commitment, why we get drunk and howl at the moon. She heard it in a movie and now, whenever I do something stupid, she says it’s because I fear getting old.”

Charlie frowned. “I don’t think about getting old.”

“Your dad died when he was thirty-six. You don’t ever think of that? I mean, you’re going to be thirty next year, right?”

“Shit, you’re right,” he muttered. “And no, I really didn’t think much about it until now.”

“Maybe that’s why you chase adventure,” Jack said.

“What are you, my shrink?”

“No, but I watch a lot of Dr. Phil when the kids are home sick.”

Charlie set his beer down and got to his feet. “I have to go.”

“What time is it?” Jack asked. “I told Jenny I’d be home by ten.”

“It’s close to eleven.”

Jack jumped up, wagging a finger at Charlie. “See, this is what I love about your life. I’m required to be in by ten and you’re just going out at eleven. You know, hooking up with a girl this late at night looks suspiciously like a booty call.”

Charlie frowned. “You think? I don’t want to give her the wrong idea. I’m not expecting a hook-up. Maybe I should call first.”

“That would make it worse,” Jack said. “Just tell her you were out for a walk. That would play much better if you had a dog. You can come over and borrow our dog.”

“You have a dog?”

“And two cats, a fluctuating number of fish, and a hamster that’s been missing for three days.”

Charlie found the news strangely disquieting. Jack really was settled. And as much as his friend couldn’t imagine what climbing Everest was like, Charlie couldn’t fathom caring for a family and a houseful of pets.

“The grass is always greener,” Charlie murmured. They jogged down the porch steps together. “I’ll stop by tomorrow and see the kids,” he said. “Tell Jenny I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

They walked in opposite directions, Jack toward the family he had waiting and Charlie toward the unknown. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he was doing in Boulder or why he was so intent on seeing Eve again. But he’d always allowed his instincts to rule his life and right now, this was where he was supposed to be.

The fifteen-minute walk to downtown Boulder was filled with indecision. Charlie was anxious to see Eve again, if only to find out whether the attraction they’d experienced earlier that day was more than one-sided.

This was really crazy. He’d always known exactly what he wanted in life, planning each move ahead of time and throwing all his energy into making a success of whatever he tried. But here he was, wandering the streets of his hometown, without a clue as to why he was here.

He’d never put much stock in psychiatry, but he had to wonder if something hadn’t snapped in his brain when he was at high altitude. Lack of oxygen could do funny things to a guy’s head, even make him feel something that wasn’t really there.

His mind drifted back to the kiss, to the taste of her mouth, the way she opened beneath him. He’d felt something then, something powerful. He’d kissed a lot of women and relying on his experience, Charlie was pretty sure Evie had wanted to be kissed. She’d even enjoyed it. And before the night was over, he planned to do it again.

The restaurant was empty of customers when he arrived, though the front door was still open. He walked inside, catching the attention of a bartender who was stacking glasses behind the bar.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” he said.

“I know,” Charlie replied. “I’m here to see Eve.”

The bartender gave him a suspicious look. “Kind of late for a sales call.”

“We’re old friends. I was here earlier for lunch. I told her I’d stop by later.”

The bartender nodded toward the kitchen door. “She’s in back.”

Charlie peeked through the small diamond-shaped window in the door. Eve had her back to him as she flipped through a sheaf of papers, separating them into piles on a wide stainless-steel table. He slowly pushed open the door.

“Kenny, can you bring up a case of the ‘96 Castle Ridge Merlot before you leave?”

“Just tell me where it is,” Charlie said softly. He watched her spine stiffen before she slowly turned around. He held his breath, still taken aback by her beauty. What had he been thinking all those years ago? How had it been so easy to walk away from her?

“What are you doing here?”

He grinned. “I don’t know. I thought I could walk you home.”

“I drove,” she said.

“So then maybe you can drive me home?”

“I still have a lot of work to do,” she said.

Charlie let the door swing shut behind him, then crossed to the table. Boosting himself up, he sat next to her, studying her work. She seemed perturbed and he wondered at the cause. “I thought we could go out. Get a drink or maybe a cup of coffee?”

Eve drew in a deep breath, then turned to face him. “Why are you here?” Shaking her head, she held up her hand. “Never mind, I know the answer to that.”

He chuckled. “You do? Good, then maybe you can tell me. Because I haven’t figured it out yet.” Charlie reached out and took her hand in his, distractedly playing with her fingers. He’d forgotten how soft her skin was. And how delicate her fingers were. All the little details that had faded over time now came rushing back. “How much longer do you have to work?”

The kitchen door swung open and Kenny poked his head inside. Eve snatched her hand away. “I’m done,” he said. “I locked the front doors.”

“Thanks,” Eve said, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He gave Charlie another look, then shrugged. “Night, boss.” Kenny strolled through the kitchen and out the back, the screen door slamming behind him.

Charlie slid off the table. “Where’s that wine you needed?”

“Through that door, down the stairs, second shelf from the top on the right. Castle Ridge Merlot. The ‘96 Reserve. Bring up the rest of the case.”

As he completed the task, Charlie wondered at her prickly attitude. Women usually warmed up right away when he turned on the charm. But then, he’d never gone back to one of his previous conquests. Though she had every right to be angry, she’d been the one to choose marriage over adventure, stability over spontaneity. Did she blame him for forcing her to make the wrong choice? He cursed softly. Or maybe she did assume he was only here for booty call.

When he got upstairs, he set the case on the opposite side of the table, then leaned over it, bracing his arms on the rough wood edges. “So, is this any good?” he asked, pulling a bottle and holding it out to her.

“Yes. It’s very good.”

“Then I’d like to buy a bottle. Do you have a couple of glasses and a corkscrew?”

“It’s seventy-five dollars a bottle.”

“Then I guess it better be good,” Charlie replied.

She set her work down and stared at him. He waited for her to speak, but she seemed to be carefully considering what she was about to say. “Why are you here? If you’ve come for sex, why don’t you just say so and stop wasting time with wine and pretty compliments.” She smoothed her hands over the stainless-steel table. “We could do it right here and get it over with.”

“You think that’s what this is about? Have I even brought up sex?”

“No, but …”

“Odd that you’d mention it. Have you been thinking about it? I mean, sex with me?”

“Yes,” she said. “No! Not in the way you think. I’ve just been wondering why you stopped by today.”

“I think we better crack open this bottle of wine, because it’s a long story. And a large quantity of alcohol would help in the telling.”

Eve took the bottle from his hand, then searched through a nearby drawer for a corkscrew. She held it out to him, then fetched a pair of wineglasses from a plastic rack near the dishwasher. Slowly, she slid them in front of him and after removing the cork, he filled the glasses halfway.

“So what’s the story?” she asked before taking a sip.

“First, a toast,” he said, holding his glass up. “To old friends.”

Eve touched her wine goblet to his, then took a sip. “Old friends,” she repeated softly. “So what is the story?”

“Have you ever had an epiphany?” he asked. “A moment of absolute clarity in your life? When you know exactly who you are and what you’re supposed to be doing?”

“No,” she said.

“Neither have I. But I should have. I was standing on top of Everest, cold and hungry and not sure I even wanted to go back down. And I was waiting to feel something and it didn’t come. Strangely, the only thing I could think about was you.”

She blinked in surprise. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Charlie shook his head. “I hadn’t seen you in five years. Hadn’t even really thought about you in five years. And then, there you were, clear as day, swimming around in my mind. And here I am.” He took a gulp of his wine. “I just want to figure it out.”

“So that’s all you want with me?”

“No.” Charlie grinned as he circled to her side of the table. “I’d really like to kiss you right now. But I’m doing my best to control my impulses.”

A satisfied smile curled the corners of her mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I just assumed you were only interested in—” Her gaze met his. “It’s nice to see you again, Charlie.”

“It’s nice being seen.” He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her lips. He’d meant it to be a new beginning, a way to express the sentiment he’d just verbalized. But the moment his mouth touched hers, Charlie felt the ground beneath him shift.

He stared down at her mouth, his breath growing tight in his chest, his thoughts spinning in his head. He wanted to kiss her again, yet he knew it probably wasn’t a good idea. But Charlie had operated on sheer instinct for so long that he couldn’t stop himself, even if he tried.

He slipped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her body against his, their hips meeting. He found her mouth again only this time, the kiss was far from innocent. He knew exactly what he needed to answer all his questions. And at the moment, that’s all he wanted—answers.

Her reaction surprised him. She didn’t try to resist, but melted in his embrace, her mouth opening to his tongue and her body arching into his. He had one answer—Evie wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Charlie grabbed her waist and set her on the edge of the worktable, then pulled her thighs against his hips. Though she was four or five inches shorter than he was, this gave him perfect access to her face and mouth, to her neck and shoulders.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered, twisting away from him and pressing her forehead into his chest. “After you leave, I won’t be able to walk into this kitchen without thinking about this.”

“I’m not leaving anytime soon,” Charlie said.

She looked up at him. “But you will leave,” she stated, her voice cool and emotionless.

“We can’t stay in this kitchen forever. I’m hoping we’ll both leave.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Eve countered with a weak smile.

“Right now, I don’t have plans to go anywhere. I’m happy right here.”

She sighed softly, then wrapped her arms around his neck. “A week,” she said. “That’s all I need. Just promise me a week.”

But as Charlie kissed her again, he knew that his stay in Boulder would last a lot longer than a week. He needed a new direction in his life and a strange vision on the top of the highest mountain had sent him here.




2


A WEEK WOULD NEVER be enough, Eve thought as she lost herself in the delicious warmth of his mouth. But if he stayed longer, she might be tempted to fall madly in love with him all over again. And if he disappeared too early, she’d be left unsatisfied and longing for more. No, a week would have to suffice.

She smoothed her hands over his chest, remembering how wonderful it felt to touch his skin. He was older now, but his body was still lithe and muscular, everything in such perfect proportion. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. If they’d been anywhere but her restaurant, she would have stripped the clothes off of him in less than a minute and dragged him to the nearest bed.

But Eve wasn’t that same impetuous young woman she’d been five years ago. Back then, she’d believed in love. Now, she was more apt to put her money on lust. There was something to be said for pure physical pleasure, without the expectations that romance brought. And even though she still bore the scars of their last affair, Eve felt confident she could handle whatever he sent her way this time.

She was in a different place in her life now, a place where her career came before everything else, including a relationship with a man. A short-term affair would fit right into her schedule. She had a few weeks before the meetings began with her Seattle investors. And the production team was putting together a final proposal on the television show and wouldn’t need her to do a sample episode until next month. Charlie Templeton had shown up at precisely the right time.

When he moved to unbutton her jacket, she impatiently completed the task, tossing it aside and leaving her wearing only a simple camisole beneath. Charlie pressed his mouth into the curve of her neck. Though Eve knew she ought to resist, there wasn’t any point. Why pretend she didn’t want him? They’d had a past together and the memories of it had rushed back the moment she saw him again.

Her fingers furrowed through his thick hair and Eve tipped her head as his lips drifted lower. But when he reached the last inch of skin above the top of her camisole, Charlie stopped his slow exploration. He stepped back and smiled. “I should probably go,” he murmured.

“No!” Eve said. She bit her lip, embarrassed that she’d reacted so vehemently. “I—I was just going to make myself something to eat. If you’re hungry, stay. I’ll—feed you.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged. “All right. Just don’t make me eat tofu,” he warned. “I can’t stand that stuff.”

Eve slid off the edge of the table, then handed him his glass of wine. “A sandwich,” she said, suddenly desperate to keep the evening going. Every instinct told her to beware, but all of that was overwhelmed by the desire that snaked through her bloodstream. “I have some wonderful bread.”

As she began to assemble the ingredients on the table, she studied him. When he’d walked into the restaurant that afternoon, Eve had thought she knew exactly what he wanted—sex. But now, she wasn’t so sure. The man who used to wait at the front door for her and tear her clothes off the moment she walked inside his house was now taking his own sweet time in seducing her. Had she not made it perfectly clear that she was ready and willing?

“So what’s on this sandwich you’re making me?”

Eve smiled. “Healthy things.”

Charlie growled softly. “You know how I hate healthy things. I like things that are bad for me.”

“Is that why you’re here?” she asked.

“I told you why I came,” Charlie said, reaching out to snag a cherry tomato from the container. “So, tell me what happened with you and Dan. Or Dave.”

“Matt,” Eve said. “His name is Matt.” Eve carefully sliced a long baguette in half, then smeared it with hummus. “He wasn’t the guy I thought I married. It just didn’t work out.”

“You realized you didn’t love him?”

“I realized he didn’t love me,” she said with a shrug. “And I didn’t love him enough to put up with his cheating.” She’d seen enough of that with her parents’ marriage. She wasn’t about to make the same mistakes they’d made, living in a sham of a marriage, pretending to love each other.

“I always thought he was a first-class idiot,” Charlie said. “I only saw him that once, but I could tell he didn’t know what he had.”

“And what did he have?”

“You. He didn’t realize he got the best the first time around. But, hey, I could tell he was a real douche from the start.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Eve asked.

“I didn’t have a right to interfere,” Charlie said.

He watched her silently as she assembled the sandwich, his gaze drifting over her like a lazy caress. She layered on thinly sliced tomatoes and calamata olives, then made a salad of arugula and balsamic dressing and stuffed it in between the two slices of bread. She finished it off with a sprinkling of toasted sunflower seeds, before setting it on a plate in front of him.

The last time they were together, they hadn’t had time for cooking. They barely remembered to eat. But things were moving more slowly now and their appetites for other things could be delayed. At least for an hour or two.

Eve waited while he took a big bite of the sandwich. He grinned at her and nodded. “Good,” he said as he chewed. “Really good.”

She bit into her half of the sandwich. Though she wasn’t particularly hungry, eating gave her something to do while looking at Charlie. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever known. Maybe that’s why it had been so easy to discount what they’d had together five years ago. She’d just assumed the reason for her attraction to him was because of his physical perfection.

“I could get used to this,” he said.

“Eating this late at night really isn’t good for you,” Eve said. “But it usually takes me a few hours to wind down and I never get a chance to catch a bite when I’m working.” She poured a bit more wine into her glass, then refilled his. “Tell me about Everest.”

“I don’t know if I can. I still haven’t figured it all out yet.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It changed me. I went up knowing exactly who I was and came down a different person. Does that make sense?”

Eve laughed and shook her head. “No.” She reached out and wiped a bit of hummus from his lip.

Charlie grabbed her hand and playfully licked it off the end of her finger. But he didn’t stop there. He wove his fingers through hers and pulled her hand against his chest.

Their gazes locked and he slowly set his sandwich down to the left of his plate. Eve felt her pulse skip and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. And then, like a wave crashing on the beach, their need for each other overwhelmed them both. This was the way it had been between them five years ago. Nothing had changed.

Their frantic hands tore at each other’s clothes as their meal got pushed aside. Charlie pressed her back against the edge of the table, his palms skimming over her body, sliding beneath her shirt to cup her breasts and then moving on to unexplored flesh.

Eve felt dizzy, her knees weak and her mind unable to process what was happening to her. So she let her thoughts drift, focusing only on the sensations racing through her body.

He was gentle, yet determined, as if he knew exactly what they both needed. Eve clutched at the hem of his shirt, gathering it in her fists, holding tight as if it were the only thing keeping him close. She needed this, if only to remind her that she hadn’t lost everything in the divorce. She could still want a man, still crave his touch and his taste.

Charlie picked her up and set her back on the table, tugging her camisole over her head and throwing it over his shoulder. Eve glanced down, grateful to see that she’d managed to pick out decent lingerie that day. As he smoothed his hands over her shoulders, she took the opportunity to remove his shirt.

Eve swallowed hard as she took in the sight of him beneath the harsh lights of the kitchen. Though she’d seen his body before, nothing prepared her for the impact that a half-naked man would have on her ability to think—or breathe—or move.

With trembling fingers, she reached out and ran her hand over his smooth chest, his skin warm beneath her touch. It wasn’t wrong to want him. She was a grown woman, past the age when she had to worry about denying her sexual needs.

After her divorce, she’d worried that no man would ever want her again, that somehow she’d wasted her one chance at happiness. But Eve was happy now and that was all that mattered.

She waited for him to continue undressing her and when he didn’t, she reached for the clasp at the front of her bra. But Charlie caught her fingers and brought them to his lips. “Let’s wait with that,” he said softly. “We have time.”

But his idea of time and hers were two completely different things. For him, a week was a lifetime and a month, an eternity. He could be with her one moment and halfway around the world the next. Eve closed her eyes, waiting for her heart to stop pounding.

“Evie?” He hooked his finger beneath her chin and tipped her face up. “Look at me.” She opened her eyes. “We have time. I promise.”

Eve knew promises could easily be broken. But she also sensed Charlie was a man she could trust. Even though he’d left her, he’d never lied to her. “Would you like dessert?”

“Dessert?” He glanced at the remains of their meal. “We haven’t finished dinner yet.”

Eve slid off the table and walked to the pastry cooler. She pulled out a tofu white-chocolate-and-raspberry mousse that she’d perfected just last week. She found the whipped cream canister on the top shelf and grabbed it. “This is something new. You’ll have to tell me what you think.”

She added a generous topping of the cream and scooped out a spoonful and held it in front of his lips. He leaned forward and she pulled the spoon away. “Promise you’ll tell the truth?”

“I promise.”

“I can trust you?”

Charlie paused as he realized that Eve wasn’t talking about the dessert. “You can, Evie.”

Satisfied, she fed him the mousse and waited for his reaction. He swallowed, then opened his mouth. “More, please.”

“What do you think? Is it good?”

“One more taste.”

She scooped out another spoonful and waited. “Well?”

“It’s very good,” Charlie said. “I like the combination. And it’s kind of fluffy so you could eat a lot of it if you wanted to.”

“It’s made with tofu,” she said. “It’s a vegan alternative to white chocolate mousse.”

“I hate tofu,” Charlie said. “But I like this. A lot. So maybe I have changed since the last time we saw each other.”





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