“Excellently,” she said, fishing for a napkin. “I’ve given out scads of promo packets. We’ll get lots of bookings. And the showcases all went wonderfully.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

She took a sip of her soda. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation. In some ways, I think you’re right. But in others—”

“Let it go,” he offered. “I was way out of line.”

She studied him with her wide, brilliant, leaf-colored eyes. “Only somewhat out of line,” she conceded gently. She took her cell out of her purse, made a big show of turning it off, and got to her feet. “Have to wash off pizza grease,” she murmured, disappearing into the bathroom.

He pinched out the jack of the room phone. This was a delicate moment. He didn’t want anyone to interrupt it and fuck it up. He peeled off his shirt, in the interests of saving time, and followed her into the bathroom. She washed her hands and face, patted herself dry. Her eyes locked with his in the mirror. Full of longing.

He longed for it, too. He reached around, trapping her against his body. He plucked off her glasses, pulled her hairpins out, unraveled the coiled braided hair, and smoothed the crimped waves over her shoulders.

He wrenched his belt loose, got rid of the rest of his clothes. Nancy gave him that secret little sorceress smile that drove him wild and glanced down at his stiff, rampant erection. She petted it.

“Ever ready,” she murmured. “At attention.”

“Fuck yes,” he said. “For you. Always.”

He tugged the snug black sweater out of her jeans and peeled it off over her head. Her bra was silvery green, a sheer, lacy thing.

“Wow,” he said, admiring it. “Look at that. Fancy underwear.”

“I thought I might get lucky,” she whispered.

He unhooked the bra and tossed it away, ran his hands over her velvety softness, felt the muscles that moved sinuously beneath it. Marveling at the translucent perfection of her small, high breasts.

“I’m the lucky one,” he said. “God, look at you. So beautiful.”

She just smiled, but her eyes caught his in the mirror, and they both laughed. “See? I’m making progress, aren’t I?” she teased him. “I no longer flip out and get all uptight and scared when you say that.”

“That’s good,” he said. “But I want you to know it in your bones.”

Her gaze slid away, and she blushed. She didn’t know it, though. She liked to hear it, but she didn’t buy it. He could see it in her eyes, and it made his chest ache. That he could not get past that invisible barrier inside her. Her caution. So deep, it was beyond his reach.

He could only wait. He slid his hand down over her belly to the downy tuft of hair at her muff, and insinuated his finger against that tender, tight furled slit. Just resting it there. “I wish you could see what I see when I look at you,” he said. “It drives me nuts.”

Nancy twisted in his arms and looked into his eyes. Her gaze had suddenly become very focused. “Then we’ll just keep at it, then. Things take time. Right?”

They stared, gripped by tension. “Right,” he said hoarsely.

He turned her, sank down to his knees, and buried his face against the hot, fuzzy ringlets crowning her pussy. He pried her legs a little wider, just wide enough to slide his tongue inside, teasing and fluttering her clit, thrusting deeper to taste her hot, rich flavor.

Hunger swamped his mind, but he kept at it until she shivered and arched and cried out, her body jolting in his grip.

He picked her up, carried her into the other room. He flung her onto the bed. Touching her, kissing her, spreading her out wide and loving her again with his lips and his tongue, again, again. Making her sigh and sob and clutch him, begging.

When he finally fumbled the latex on and positioned himself, she took him in so completely, it felt like flames of pure pleasure were licking him, each stroke an agony of delight more perfect than the last. He clutched her, heartbeat clamoring in his ears.

Things took time. Hell yes, they did. All the time she liked. The more time the better. A lifetime would be fine with him.

That amazing idea lifted him up and blasted him into inner space.

Someone was pounding on her door, and probably had been for some time. Nancy struggled out of a dream that had a great deal of gratuitous pounding in it. Liam stirred as she slid out of bed. She found her nightshirt, and slipped it on as she went for the door.

The pounding had redoubled. She pulled the door open and focused on Peter and Enid, who looked electrified.

“Good God, Nancy, you’re not even dressed!” Enid said, dismayed. She peeked into the room, eyes widening when they landed on Liam sitting on the bed dressed only in his jeans. “Remember yesterday at the Exhibition Hall when you were talking to the promoter for the Jericho Arts Center in D.C.? Where Bonnie Blair is opening next week?”

“Uh, yes, of course. I gave him a promo packet. He seemed interested in an opening act sometime,” Nancy said, rubbing her eyes.

“Yeah! That’s just it! Sammy Phillips with the Phelps Bay Blues Band was opening for Bonnie, but he wrecked his car yesterday, and—”

“Oh, no!” Dismay shocked her to full consciousness.

“Don’t worry, Sammy’ll be fine,” Peter said impatiently. “But he broke his collarbone. Enid and I were having coffee, and the promoter came up and asked if we’re free Wednesday! I told him are we ever!”

Nancy was wide awake. “Opening for Bonnie Blair? At the Jericho? You mean this Wednesday?”

Enid and Peter nodded violently, identical wide grins splitting their faces. “Is that megaspectacular, or what?” Peter crowed.

“That’s incredible,” Nancy breathed. “I’ve got to get on the phone right away to the presenter. To all the venues in D.C., Maryland, and Virginia. I’ve got to get pictures to the press, I’ve got to—”

“But that’s not all,” Enid said. “There’s more! Get this, Nance! There just happened to be this exec from MGM Studios in Hollywood staying at the hotel, and he heard our showcase! He loved it!”

“Hollywood?” Nancy rubbed her eyes again. “Excuse me?”

“His name is Maitland Sills, and he’s going to put his production department in touch with us! He says ‘The Far Shore’ is perfect for the closing credits of a big-budget feature film they’re doing, starring Brad Pitt! And you have to talk to him pronto, Nance, because he’s leaving for Logan Airport in an hour. He’s got a meeting this afternoon in L.A.”

“Holy crap,” she said slowly. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Enid and Peter exchanged long-suffering glances. “Your cell was off,” they said in unison.

“I was going to introduce you to Sills last night after the showcase, but you disappeared,” Peter scolded.

“So why not call the room?” she snapped. “You knew my number!”

“Disconnected,” Enid said triumphantly.

Nancy’s head whipped around to check. Sure enough. No jack in the phone. Liam met her eyes and lifted his big, muscular shoulders in an unapologetic shrug. She felt the tension begin to gather in her neck.

“Time to focus, Nance. No more distractions,” Peter said, staring at Liam. “You’ll come to the Jericho gig, right?”

“I definitely should,” she said.

“It’s happening, Nance!” Enid burbled. “We’re going to hit big!”

Liam moved around in the room behind her. Nancy suddenly remembered their sailboat plans. Her stomach took a nosedive. “Oh. I, um, did have plans for the next few days,” she said hesitantly. Liam’s naked, muscular back was to her. He rifled through his overnight bag.

“Postpone ’em,” Peter said carelessly. “This is the chance of a lifetime. We’ve gotta jump on it with both feet.”

“Uh…yeah,” she said, glancing anxiously behind herself.

Peter followed her gaze, and his face hardened. “He’s not coming with us, though,” he said. “So don’t even think about it.”

“Don’t worry,” Liam said remotely. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”