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  But tonight wasn’t about him and his plans. It was about Darcy, and his sisters had known that. They had championed his support of Able House. He’d assumed they might have dropped at least a hint of this night’s purpose to Angelise. She would have known that he had duties and wouldn’t have time or the inclination to flirt right now. What’s more, after having known him forever, she was aware that he preferred to do his flirting in private.

  “Angelise,” he said, “I’d like you to meet Darcy.”

  Darcy smiled and held out her hand. “I’m afraid I’m the free agent, but maybe Patrick is as well.”

  Now it was Angelise’s turn to blink. “Patrick, is it?” she said. “I didn’t know that he was on such familiar terms with his subordinates.”

  Patrick opened his mouth to protest, he saw Darcy’s quick blush and his sisters’ startled, panicked looks. Angelise had never been haughty.

  “Darcy is an artist. She’s not my subordinate,” he said.

  But Darcy gave him a sad, resigned look. Then he saw her—did no one else see her?—paste a completely phony look on her face. She laughed and looked at Angelise.

  “You’re right. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a rebel,” she said, her voice laced with humor even though Patrick could read tension in her eyes. “I don’t always play by the rules. Staying in the kitchen keeps me out of trouble most of the time, though. As a matter of fact, I have to go there now. I just came out because…Mr. Judson requested it, and he is, as you say, my boss.” She gave Angelise a nod as if to say “you’ve won.”

  But as she turned to go, Patrick stepped forward. “You just got here,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, dear,” Eleanor said.

  “We’d enjoy talking to you, picking your brain, getting to know you better,” Alex Torres, a young, handsome man added. He was looking at Darcy as if she was on the menu and Patrick wondered what had possessed him to invite the man.

  A chorus of those in agreement with Alex chimed in.

  Darcy’s smile was grateful but there was a stubborn set to her chin. “Thank you so much, but I have things to finish.”

  Patrick felt the first threads of anger weaving their way through him. He had cajoled Darcy into this situation, and now she had been made to feel uncomfortable. He would talk to Angelise, of course. He would apologize to Darcy, but the damage was already done. And she wanted to make her escape. He really should let her go, but—

  “What do you have to do?” he asked, persisting.

  “I have treats to package up,” she said in a stage whisper. “Cream puffs and éclairs.”

  “Oh, my hips and thighs,” Eleanor moaned. “Darcy, you’re killing me. Let her go, Patrick. By all means, but I want your business card, Darcy. In fact, I want multiples. When Patrick leaves and you have more free time you’re going to get so much business.”

  “Yes, me, too,” someone said, and the words were echoed.

  “Tomorrow,” Patrick promised. “I’ll make sure you get her cards.”

  Darcy thanked everyone and began to leave the room. Just as she was halfway through the door, he moved up beside her, touching her shoulder.

  She stopped.

  “We’re not done,” he told her. “This isn’t finished. We’ll talk later.”

  Darcy was in the kitchen, all the guests but Angelise and his sisters had gone home, and Patrick had to face the fact that there was unpleasant business to attend to. It was a fact of his life and had been for more years than he could remember. A man-boy didn’t successfully raise three sisters without having had to force himself to deal with challenging or unpleasant situations from time to time.

  “You three, wait for me in the study,” he told his sisters. “And Cara and Amy, don’t try to tell me you have to get home to your husbands and babies. I know that Lewis and Richard have a late-night game of poker, and Charlie and Davey are safe in the care of Mrs. Teniston who will care for them as if they’re her own, so you’ve got time to give me five minutes.”

  “We’re not children anymore,” Amy pointed out, but they all came in and sat down. “And I do want to get back to Davey. I miss him when I’m gone.”

  Patrick sighed. He knew she meant that and he sympathized. He’d felt the same when he’d had to leave the girls with a sitter. “All right, I’ll make this short,” he told them. “I don’t know what was going on tonight with Angelise, but I know you were at the heart of it, and I don’t want it to happen again. Darcy was embarrassed, Angelise was acting out of character and you appeared to be interfering.”

  Lane put her chin up. “You should know that we never meant to hurt Darcy and we’ll tell her so, but…we had good reasons.”

  “Really? I’d like to hear what they were.”

  “We told you. We saw you looking at Darcy the other night and especially tonight. You’re attracted to her.”

  He didn’t even try to deny it.

  “Has it occurred to you that you might be leading her on? Have you thought about how disastrous it would be if she fell for you?”

  “That isn’t going to happen.”

  “Women always fall for you. You don’t choose any of them. Or at least you haven’t while we’ve been growing up. We know it’s because you didn’t want to really date and lead us through a series of potential moms that might not pan out. But surprise! We’re grown now. And you can choose whomever you want, but we know it won’t be Darcy.”

  Anger began to simmer, but he controlled it. “How do you know that, Cara?”

  “I’m not criticizing Darcy, but…we just know you, Patrick. You’ve been waiting all your life to take risks and now you can take them. Besides, I know you love us, but the weight of being responsible for us has to have gotten to you at times. No matter how independent Darcy is…you’re her benefactor. You’ve aided her. Won’t that be more of what you’ve been doing for us for years, the very thing you’re breaking free of? Plus, if this went wrong, we—it would be different from an ordinary breakup simply because you have been her boss and benefactor. If you felt that you’d hurt her in any way while she was under your care…we know you, Patrick. It would kill you. You’d eventually do something unwise in a bid to make it right for her and end up sacrificing yourself.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but Lane rushed in.

  “Look, we know you’ve said you’re not even going to think of marriage until after your trip is over, but you’re totally free to date as much as you please. And eventually one of the women you date might become your bride. You’ve always said that when you marry it will be to a woman who shares your background, your interests and your ambitions, and that means someone like Angelise who’s from your world and who likes climbing mountains and reckless pursuits as much as you do. And you want children. You’ve always wanted children, but Darcy—when we were here the other day she couldn’t even bear to look at Charlie and Davey. I don’t think she wants babies.”

  Patrick ran an impatient hand over his jaw. He didn’t know why Darcy seemed to fear contact with his nephews but he wasn’t about to discuss her private concerns with his sisters.

  “We’re sorry, Patrick, but…we just want for you what you want for us—a carefree life and someone to share that life.”

  “All right,” he said, raising one hand. “You’ve made your point. Now, stop. All this worrying about Darcy…it’s meaningless. She absolutely doesn’t want to get married to anyone. She isn’t interested in a relationship.”

  The three of them exchanged a look, the kind that said their sister antennae was turned on.

  “I’m sorry, but we just don’t believe that. At least not where you’re concerned. You have this way of making women forget what they don’t want and simply home in on what they do…which is you.”

  Patrick thought about that. Did Darcy want him? Maybe a little, in a physical sense, but…his world, the press, the attention…how long would it be before some callous idiot of a reporter wrote a story about how she was after his money or about what a gr
eat guy he was for hooking up with a disabled woman? One moment like that—and there would be many moments like that—and Darcy would retreat back into anonymity somewhere, scarred for having consorted with him. He would have harmed her just by showing her attention.

  “You don’t have anything to worry about,” he told his sisters. “Darcy and I aren’t going to get involved. I can promise you that.”

  Darcy was packing up to go when Olivia sidled in wearing a crestfallen look.

  “Olivia, what is it?”

  Olivia hesitated. “I don’t know if I should tell you what I overheard, but…I don’t know if I should keep it from you, either.”

  But Darcy did. Whatever it was that was bothering Olivia was a burden to her. “Spill it,” she said.

  Olivia began, haltingly, to relate what had been said in the room adjoining the one where she had been cleaning up, including the comment about children, a topic that made Darcy want to shout that she wanted babies. She just couldn’t bear the thought of not being the kind of mom she had dreamed of. She couldn’t live with the thought that if her child climbed the stairs, she couldn’t rush up them to prevent him from falling down the steps. “I’m sorry, Darcy,” Olivia said. “I just…his sisters are great people and so is Mr. Judson, but you should know that the girls are matchmaking, that they think you’re falling for him, but they don’t think you’re right for him.”

  Darcy felt sick, but she couldn’t have Olivia feeling guilty for telling her something or start worrying later that what she had revealed to Darcy had hurt her. And, if there was one thing that Darcy had learned it was how to put on an act, to pretend that she was fine with the blows life sent her way, to keep her chin up so that her pride could survive. She was good at it, too. No one could tell that she was lying.

  “Oh, Olivia,” she said, smiling and holding out her arms. “Come here, sweetie. I can’t believe you’re worried about something as silly as that.”

  Olivia came close. Darcy took Olivia’s hand and smiled up at her friend. “Believe me, Olivia, while I like Patrick, we tease each other and he helps me, he’s just my boss. A great boss, but no more than that. As a matter of fact, tonight I collected a bunch of phone numbers for people who want me to cater their parties, so, if anything, Patrick and I will be spending less time together, not more. Gosh, Liv, he’s handsome as all get out and yes, like most women I can fantasize about what his lips taste like, but heck, I feel that way about any number of movie stars, too. Don’t you?” Somehow she managed a convincing laugh, and Olivia hesitated, then smiled and joined in.

  “Thank goodness, Darcy,” she said. “So…you really have no interest in Mr. Judson?”

  “Patrick might be on my ‘ten hottest men’ list, but he’s not on my list of men I plan to date, no.”

  “So who is?”

  Darcy managed not to gasp. Olivia spit out the water she had been drinking. “Mr. Judson!” she squealed.

  “Sorry, Olivia,” he said with a smile. “I just came to see Darcy home. It’s pretty dark even with the moon out. Do you have your car?”

  “Yes,” Olivia said. “I could drive Darcy home.”

  “Thank you, but I have just a few more things to discuss with her.” He fished a piece of paper from his pocket. “More catering business,” he said. And then he waited.

  Olivia got the picture. She said a hasty goodbye and then left.

  For long seconds Darcy sat there staring at Patrick as he paced. His long legs made short work of the big kitchen. He scrubbed one hand through his hair. Finally he turned in a rush.

  “Olivia told you what the girls said?”

  Okay, more acting. “Yes, but don’t worry. I don’t see what the problem is.”

  He raised one eyebrow, an incredibly sexy move in Darcy’s opinion. “Because?”

  “Patrick, I understand that your sisters are worried about you, so I’m not offended that they would be looking out for your best interests, but no, there’s no problem. You and I…well, all right, yes, I do find you attractive, but I’m not interested in dating you.”

  “Because I’m not on your list of men to date. I take it there is a list, then?”

  Man, had she really said that? How was she going to get out of this?

  “Every woman has a list, even if it’s not a conscious one.” She tried to affect a teasing tone.

  “And who tops yours?”

  Uh-oh. What could she say? Darcy’s mind raced.

  “It changes. I met a really nice man in my ballroom dancing class. Jared O’Donahue. He’s a former cop.”

  “But you told me you weren’t interested in a relationship.”

  She wasn’t. Really, she didn’t want to be. She couldn’t. “Who said anything about a relationship? He’s just an interesting man I’d like to get to know.” She wasn’t exactly lying here. Jared O’Donohue was a nice man, and they shared common interests and a common background. Like Patrick and Angelise. The very thought hardened her resolve. “I’m not sure where it’s going, but yes, right now he tops my list.” Especially since she had just started the list five seconds ago and Jared was the only man she could think of to put on it.

  Patrick was studying her intently. “Be careful,” he finally said.

  She nodded, regret for things that could never be pummeling her heart. She so didn’t want to be having this conversation. “Your Angelise is very beautiful. Are the two of you going to marry?”

  “I’ll eventually marry,” he said, “but I don’t intend to start looking until this tour is over.”

  “Of course. You’ll be busy, and you’ll want to play the field. Maybe you’ll start your own list,” she said with as bright a smile as she could manage.

  For several seconds he simply stared at her, his green eyes dark and intense. She thought of him staring into Angelise’s eyes. And pain that she couldn’t reveal filled her soul. Then he shook his head slowly. “I’ve never been interested in making lists,” he said. “I prefer action.”

  And with that he moved forward. He scooped her right out of her chair and up against his chest. His lips came down on hers, searing her, claiming her, turning her mind to a mess of sheer desire. Automatically her hands threaded into his hair. She pressed closer, kissed back.

  Heat swirled through her. Need conquered common sense. She hadn’t even known that she needed this, but she did. Now that she’d tasted him this deeply, how could she ever not want to taste him every morning?

  But she couldn’t. The truths his sisters had spoken added to her own unspoken truths, the walls she’d built so carefully, her fears of what could go wrong if…

  Darcy gave a muffled cry and pulled back. “This is so…no, I cannot do this,” she said. “Put me down.”

  Patrick pulled back, far enough so that he could stare directly into her eyes. “Darcy, I—damn, I’m such a jerk. I apologize.”

  That made her mad. “Do not apologize. Just because I said I couldn’t doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.”

  Now, he grinned. He carefully lowered her into her chair, his arms spanning her, his hands coming to rest on her tires as he gently trapped her.

  “Next time I’ll ask before I touch you,” he said.

  Darcy sucked in a deep breath. “Next time? You intend for there to be a next time?”

  Patrick shrugged. “You told me that I wasn’t on your list of men to date, but you didn’t say I wasn’t on your list of men to kiss. In fact, I distinctly heard you tell Olivia that I was on your top—”

  She reached out and placed her fingers over his mouth.

  “All right, you’re hot,” she conceded. “But we’re not going to kiss again.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  PATRICK was not a man to use his fists, but right now he wanted to hit something very hard. Had he actually asked her who she wanted to date, he asked himself hours after he’d taken her home? Had he taken her in his arms and kissed her? Had he, in other words, crossed several lines he shouldn’t have even thought of crossing?
r />   No question about it, he had, and he wasn’t at all happy with himself.

  She’d met a man, she had said. Jared O’Donohue. Was he a good man? The right man? Darcy had said that she’d been hurt when her fiancé had abandoned after her accident. And now?

  “None of your business, Judson,” he muttered beneath his breath. Nonetheless, he sat down at his computer and began to work. It didn’t take long to come up with a smattering of information. Jared O’Donahue. Good-looking guy, twenty-seven years old, he’d been given awards for heroism and bravery, but had had his legs crushed when a vehicle had run into him and pinned him against his squad car. He was, from all accounts, the best type of man and if the man had a heart beating in his body and any consciousness of what made a woman desirable, he would be interested in Darcy.

  Who could blame him?

  What’s more, the man had a lot in common with Darcy. Background, upbringing, even the accident and the chair. He would understand everything she thought and felt in a way Patrick never really could.

  So…she’d met someone. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it his goal to make sure that all the residents of Able House were happy and healthy? Being in a good relationship would certainly contribute to Darcy’s happiness.

  “Of course, it’s a darned good thing,” he said to the walls. So, why did he feel as if he’d missed something, lost something?

  That couldn’t matter. It was selfish, and he couldn’t afford to be selfish where Darcy was concerned. That kind of attitude would end up hurting her. It wasn’t going to happen.

  Darcy woke up the next morning and realized that she’d been dreaming about being held in Patrick’s arms. She’d been kissing him, and…then he had pulled her closer, twisting so that she ended up beneath him and he was smiling into her eyes, bracing himself above her.

  “Kiss me, Darcy,” he’d said, and she had, betraying her good intentions in her dreams. She’d reached out, and her palms had slid over the smooth, warm muscles of his chest. No cloth barring her way. He had been warm, hard, exciting. The pads of her fingertips had tingled, and—