But Dolly was already climbing through the lilacs, and by the time Tess made it back through, the little girl was bounding up the kitchen steps.

Tess ran to catch up with her. "Take it easy, Princess Dolly. If Tippy Tail's having her kittens, we don't want to scare her."

Dolly was barely able to contain her excitement, but she nodded gravely and pressed a finger to her lips. "Shh."

Tess pushed open the screen door and glanced back at the driveway. Harl was there, motioning for her to go on in. Dolly slipped past her inside, running quietly into the kitchen. She gasped in delight, covering her mouth with both hands as if to hold back a squeal. Tess stood next to her, following the girl's wide-eyed look.

There, in the middle of Tess's camp bed, was the missing cat, with a litter of tiny, squirming newborn kittens. Four of them. Little bits of matted gray, white and black fur.

How? Tess wondered. How had this happened? Either Tippy Tail had snuck past her in the dark last night and lurked in the house all night, or she'd seized her opening when Tess had gone out to enjoy her tea and scone, then for a walk on the beach.

If nothing else, the cat was an opportunist. This was the only relatively soft, warm spot in the entire house. It certainly beat a dark, junky corner of the dirt cellar.

It wasn't Harl who came into the kitchen, but Andrew, his eyes connecting with Tess. Before either of them could say anything, Dolly waved them into silence. Tess pointed to the cat.

He had the gall to grin, amused.

"It's not funny," she whispered.

"No, Tess, it's very funny."

She wanted to be magnanimous, but a mother cat and four kittens had taken up residence on her only furniture, on her bed.

Andrew stood close to her. He smelled of fresh soap, and she could see a small scar on his jaw, almost into his dark hair, and wondered how he'd gotten it. He smiled. "I can see I owe you for all the trouble this cat's caused you."

"Big time."

But he wasn't doing a good job of pretending to be chagrined at the situation. Dolly tiptoed to the foot of the sleeping bag and knelt down, instinctively quiet. Her cat was half-asleep, dazed almost, curled up with her kittens amidst Tess's pillows and the T-shirt she'd slept in. The tiny kittens were suckling, barely moving.

Andrew bent over his daughter. "Just look," he whispered. "Don't touch."

She angled her face up at him, her eyes bright. "When can I pick them up?"

"In a few days. If we bother them now, Tippy Tail might get upset and move them." He glanced back at Tess. "A few days? You can manage?"

As if she had a choice. She couldn't evict a mother cat and newborn kittens. "Sure."

"The offer of a guest room stands."

The cat fixed her golden eyes on Tess, as if she knew exactly how she'd complicated her life. Pay-back, no doubt, for Tess scaring her last night. She'd probably been all set to have her kittens down in the cellar, and then Tess had come whomping in there to the rescue.

Andrew touched his daughter's shoulder, and she grabbed his hand. They moved back through the kitchen and outside without a word. Tess joined them, because there wasn't much else she could do except scare off poor Tippy Tail again.

Once she was safe on the driveway, Dolly jumped up and down and clapped her hands, spun herself around in a circle. "Oh, they're so cute! Oh, Daddy, did you see them? I want to name them." Harl was there, hovering close to the lilacs. "Harl, Harl, you have to see them! Oh my God!"

Andrew grimaced. "Dolly, you have to stop saying ‘oh my God' like that."

She nodded, obviously not really hearing him. "Can I show Harl?"

"Yes, you can show Harl."

Harl didn't seem eager to see the kittens, but Dolly had him by the hand, dragging him. If his appearance and demeanor were intimidating to others, they had no effect whatsoever on his cousin's six-year-old daughter.

Andrew shifted to look at Tess, the morning sun bringing out the flecks of gray in his dark hair, the angles of his face. As gentle as he was with his irrepressible daughter, Tess suspected he wasn't a man given to easy expression of emotion. "I see you got through the night all right."

He was only slightly better at hiding his skepticism over her snake story than his cousin was. Tess shrugged. "Fine, thanks."

"I'm sorry about Tippy Tail."

"Not your fault."

She glanced back at her house, so far nothing about this weekend was going according to plan or fancy. To add to her uneasiness, she realized she was attracted to Andrew Thorne. Just her luck. She wondered if he'd noticed the shade of blue of her eyes- the way she had his-or if he'd reacted to their physical contact last night. It wasn't expecting he had that got to her but rather the wondering. This, she thought, was what was so impossible about men. If only she could fast-forward into a relationship, check if it was worth being attracted to a man before she committed herself to expending all that energy.

Not that she was contemplating any kind of relationship with Andrew Thorne that didn't involve the word neighbor in it. Lusting after him-there was no other word for it-was just a way to get her mind off the skeleton in her cellar.

"Tess?"

She turned, noticed the muscles in his arms and shoulders, his lean, sexy build. Whoa, she thought, and gave him a quick smile. "Sorry. I was just thinking I should find a hardware store. I need to fix the cellar window. I guess I should add a litter box to my list."

He acknowledged her words with a thoughtful nod. "Good. I'll go with you."

"You don't have to. I can manage."

"I didn't say you couldn't manage, I said I'd go with you." He eyed her, and she thought she saw a glimmer of humor. "You'll never find the hardware store on your own."

"This town is about three streets big. I'll find it."

He'd already started down her driveway. "Give me ten minutes. I'll pick you up."

"I'll drive," Tess called.

He glanced back at her, as if he could sense her panic, knew she was having wild thoughts about him and that insisting she'd drive was a way of retaining a measure of control. He smiled. "Okay. You drive."

"Lauren, please understand." Richard grabbed a cup of coffee in the kitchen on his way out to the back porch with the newspaper. "I only have a few minutes. When this appointment's nailed down, I'll walk with you to Cape Cod and back if you want."

She tried to smile. "We used to walk all the time, remember?"

"I do remember. Of course I do. You sound as if it's been a lifetime. We've probably taken more walks in the eighteen months we've been together than most people have in years."

Lauren sat at the table, watching him, trying not to think how much she loved him. Not today. She wanted to stay aggrieved awhile. "Just a quick walk on the rocks would suit me. You can't spare thirty minutes?"

"I can't, really. Sweetheart, it's not you-it's me. I know that. I'm just swamped, I can hardly form a coherent thought. Let me drink my coffee and read my paper, okay?" He walked over to her, kissed her on the forehead. She could smell his coffee, see the lines in his face. "It'll be all right."

"Did Jeremy Carver say something last night?"

"No, everything's looking good. It would help if we'd hear from Ike."

She waved a hand. "Oh, pooh. This isn't unusual for him. Tell Carver to talk to me, and I'll ease his mind."

"I already did. They can investigate further if they have any doubts. I've already passed the institute's security checks-the Department of Defense and Senator Bowler's office shouldn't be a problem."

"Of course not." Lauren fingered her coffee cup, wishing she could drum up more interest in her hus-band's impending appointment to Washington. What would she do? Stay here? Go? Throw parties for him? She shuddered inwardly.