"I suppose that's an okay compromise." The truth is, she enjoyed being next to him. The shivery excitement was always there, but running parallel to that was a comfortable rapport. Matt Hallahan felt like a friend. Despite his tattoo, he felt like someone she'd known and liked for a very long time. And as long as she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that a part of her enjoyed being clucked over. It had been a lot of years since anyone had regarded her as fragile, probably because she wasn't, and while she couldn't let it interfere with learning her job, she secretly treasured the attention.

She was working on the second deck of the house, laying four-by-eight sections of three-quarter tongue-and-groove plywood. She stuck a nail into the wood and whacked it three times, driving it home. She moved over six inches and set another nail. She was beginning to understand why Matt liked building houses. Every hour you could stand back, look at your progress and know you were making something that would last a long, long time. Children would grow up in the house, they'd leave for college, get married, and return with children of their own-and still the house would remain. It was important that the house be built correctly, she decided. It wasn't just a matter of safety. It had to do with pride and creativity and immortality.

She stood up, took a step backward to admire her handiwork, and fell into the open stairwell. Benny Newfarmer, all two hundred and fifty-four pounds of him, was there to break her fall. He caught her square in the chest and crashed to the floor with a thud that carried the length of the cul-de-sac. Lizabeth sprawled across Newfarmer, stunned by the impact, and then rolled off his huge belly as if it were a giant beachball. "Sorry," she said to him. "Are you all right?"

Newfarmer stared unblinking into space, his breath coming in short gasps.

Bucky Moyer ambled over. "Cripes," he said, "I've never seen him flat on his back like this. He looks like a beached whale."

Lizabeth nervously cracked her knuckles. "Why isn't he saying anything? Why isn't he getting up? Maybe we should call an ambulance."

Bucky grinned. "Nah, he's okay. You just caught him by surprise. He's not used to women jumping on his body like that."

"Yeah, I'm okay," Newfarmer said, struggling to get up. "You just took me by surprise."

Lizabeth glanced over at Matt. He had his hands on his hips and his face looked as if it had been chiseled in granite. It was the sort of steely-eyed, hard-jawed look you get when you grit your teeth for a long time. She grimaced. "Are you mad at me?"

He unclenched his teeth and expelled a long breath. "No, I'm not mad at you. I'm just glad you didn't kill him. It would take a forklift to get him out of here." He unbuckled his carpenter's belt. "Lunch, everyone."

Matt sat back and waited until the men had dispersed. When he was alone with Lizabeth, he stared at her for a long time before speaking. He was torn between wanting to take her in his arms and hold her close, and wanting to shake her until her teeth rattled. "Lizabeth…"He was at a loss for words. What the hell was he supposed to say to her? He'd known her less than a week, and his heart had stopped when he saw her disappear down the stairwell. "Lizabeth, you really scared me." He gave a frustrated shake of his head, because what he'd said was so inadequate. If there had been more privacy he would have liked to make love to her. It was desire born of caring rather than passion. He wanted to join with her, share every intimacy, give her more pleasure than she'd ever imagined, let her see how precious she'd become to him. He pulled her to him and took her face in his hands while he slowly lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her with infinite tenderness, slowly deepening the kiss while his hands roamed along her back, pressing her closer, needing to feel her soft warmth, needing to be reassured that she was all right… that she was his, at least for the moment.

Lizabeth tilted her head back so she could look at him. "That felt like a serious kiss."

"Mmmm. I'm having some pretty serious thoughts."

"I don't know if I'm ready for serious thoughts."

The pain went straight to his heart. He clapped a hand to his chest and grunted. "Boy, that hurts. The first time I have long-term plans for a relationship and look where it gets me. Heartbreak City."

He was a flirt, Lizabeth decided. The nicest man she'd ever met, and also the most outrageous. Long-term plans probably meant an hour and a half. She thought about his offer to take her to Paris and smiled, wondering what he would have done if she'd accepted.

"Sorry, I never get serious in the first four days."

"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "Four days isn't a lot of time. How long do you think it will take?"

'To get serious?" Lizabeth smiled. "I don't know. I don't mean to be insulting, but it's not high on my list of priorities. I have to find myself."

"I didn't know you were lost. Maybe you've been looking in the wrong places."

"Easy for you to joke about it," Lizabeth said. "You have a secure personality. You didn't grow up as 'Mac Slye's Kid.' And you didn't spend ten years as Paul Kane's wife and Jason and Billy Kane's mother. I used to buy T-shirts with my name written on them, hoping once in a while people would call me Lizabeth."

"You're exaggerating."

"Not by very much. I liked being a wife and mother, but when I got out on my own I realized my image had been much too closely tied to others."

"Seems to me you have a good grip on your image."

She studied his face, decided he meant it, and felt a rush of happiness. There were times, toward the end of her marriage, when she wasn't sure if there was any Lizabeth left at all. It was wonderful to know she'd survived.

"Well, we could be friends for a while," she said. "We could see how it turns out."

"Mom's home!" Jason yelled, looking out the front window. "She's with Mr. Hallahan, and he's helping her up the sidewalk."

"What's the matter with her?" Elsie called from the kitchen. "Why does she need help?"

"I dunno. She's all wet, and she's walking funny."

Elsie went to the door and watched her niece slowly make her way up the porch stairs. "Now what?"

Matt tried to look concerned, but his mouth kept twitching with laughter. "She lost her balance and fell into a freshly poured cement driveway. We had to hose her down before the cement set, but there were a few places we missed… like her shoes and her underwear."

"I didn't lose my balance," Lizabeth snapped. "I was signing my initials in the wet cement and one of your workmen snuck up behind me and got fresh."

Elsie shook her finger at her niece. "I told you, you gotta be careful about bending over when you're around them construction workers."

Lizabeth swiped at the wet hair plastered to her face. "I don't want to talk about it."

Elsie looked at Matt. "Well? Is that the whole story? How come she lost her balance?"

"She lost her balance when she punched him in the nose," Matt said, smiling broadly. It had been a terrific punch. Square on the snoot. He couldn't have done it better himself.

"No kidding?" Elsie was obviously pleased. "That comes from her mother's side of the family. We're a feisty bunch. So how about this guy's nose-did she flatten it?"

"Wasn't exactly flattened," Matt said, "but it was definitely broken."

"Wow," Jason said, "that's so cool. Wait'll I tell the guys. My mom broke someone's nose!"

"It was an accident!" Lizabeth said. "I reacted without thinking, and his nose got in the way. Now if you'll all excuse me I'm going to take a shower. If I'm not out of the shower in half an hour send up a chisel. And don't you dare invite Matt to supper. He smirked at me all the way home."