He set down his cup and rose to his feet. “Certainly. Would you like me to leave while you make the call?”

“No, no. It’s fine. Sit down.” She waved him back down and dialed Vivi’s number. Nell, the impractical scholar and bookworm, had no cell phone. She considered cell phones evil, annoying, and probably carcinogenic, and refused to accept one even as a gift, which drove her sisters nuts. This, of course, amused Nell to no end. Naughty Nell.

“Yeah?” Vivi picked up, her voice sharp with alarm. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s just that I’ve discovered a new wrinkle.” Nancy outlined the situation and waited while Vivi relayed it to Nell.

Her younger sisters conferred. Vivi came promptly back with the verdict. “Our combined opinion is that if Lucia wanted it done and went to the trouble of buying all the supplies, we should respect her wishes. But I don’t have any cash on hand to help pay the crew.” Nell said something emphatic in the background. “Neither does Nell,” Vivi added.

“Okay. I’ll look into some loans, then. Later, babes.”

“Eight o’clock tonight,” Vivi reminded her, in a steely tone.

“Right.” Nancy snapped her cell closed. “So,” she said. “My sisters and I are disposed to proceed, but we’re broke. Lucia had some money, I assume, but we don’t know how much, or when we’ll be able to access it. I can look into taking out a personal loan, but in the meantime…”

“I’ll just get started,” he said. “Pay me later, when you sort it out.”

She was startled. “Uh, are you sure that’s wise? I don’t even know when I can get the cash. I wouldn’t want to get you in a bind.”

His shrug was nonchalant. “I can cover the costs for a couple of weeks. It’s just me and Eoin to pay, for now. Then we’ll see how it goes.”

“On…on just my word?”

His eyes gleamed over his cup. “Your word’s good.”

“You just met me fifteen minutes ago,” she pointed out.

Knightly glanced at his watch. “Eighteen minutes,” he said. “Eighteen minutes are enough. For you, anyway.”

His eyes had a magnetic pull that wiped her mind clear of coherent thought. All thoughts but one.

Oh, Lord. She had no business getting all trembly thighed. She was grieving, wobbly, her judgment shot to hell. Probably imagining all these vibes flying right and left. Or maybe not, and that was worse. He was way too big, for one thing. Too much of him. She avoided men who sent out alpha-dog signals. Like the plague. And perfect though Knightly’s manners might be, mellow as he might act, there was no mistaking one of those men. She could spot one disguised in any costume: a suit, a military uniform, jeans and a work shirt. The force field of his machismo hummed against her skin, all the more dangerous for how subtle it was. Not that it was a bad thing. It was just the way he was, like having brown hair, or a nice ass. But even so. She had to run the show when it came to relationships, romance, sex. That detail was nonnegotiable. And a guy like him would definitely want to be on top.

Um. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Her eyes skittered around, fell on the plastic tablecloth. Something to do. She grabbed the package, ripped open the cover, and headed for the living room.

Knightly followed her, sipping from his mug in that leisurely way of his. Nursing the damn thing. She had long since nervously gulped her own tea down. He watched her unfold the tablecloth and shake it out. The sharp stink of new plastic overwhelmed even the scent of funeral flowers. She started to position it carefully over Lucia’s intaglio writing table.

“I know it’s none of my business,” Knightly said. “But why are you covering that table with that god-awful thing?”

Nancy paused and pulled the plastic away. “My sister and I are taking the smaller art pieces home, but none of us has a place for the table,” she told him. “I figured the tablecloth was camouflage, if burglars should come again. Worth a try, anyhow. Did Lucia tell you its history?”

“She told me the SS officers used it during the Nazi occupation,” he replied, “that they used her father’s palace for their headquarters.”

Nancy was startled. Lucia had not usually been so forthcoming about her family history. “The Nazi officers were the ones who made these graffiti,” she said, tracing some of the brutal scratches carved into the delicately carved tangle of flowers.

“Incredible,” he commented. “A piece of living history.”

“Lucia’s father was actually a count, you know?” she told him. “The Conte de Luca. Which means Lucia was technically a countess, even though she lived almost all of her life here, in New York.” She was babbling, but it felt good to talk about Lucia. Like a pressure valve opening, letting off a tiny bit of steam.

“I’m not surprised she was a countess,” Knightly said. “She looked the part. That lady was a class act.”

Nancy blinked back another rush of tears and shook the tablecloth into place with an angry little jerk. “Yes, she was.” She positioned the jade plant carefully in the center. “There. Who would guess?”

“It looks butt ugly,” he said judiciously.

“Thank you,” Nancy murmured.

Knightly laid his hand on the table, as gently as if it were a living thing. “I’d love to study it someday. Figure out how the guy did it.”

“Did what?”

“Made something that’s still intact and still so beautiful after four hundred years. That’s talent.” He turned, and took his cup back into the kitchen.

Nancy’s eyes fell upon Lucia’s shelf of photos as she gazed after him. She waited until he appeared again in the doorway. “How did you know who I was?” she demanded.

His subtle smile lit his eyes. “Lucia showed me pictures of you,” he said. “She told me all about you. Bragged you up.”

A dark suspicion dawned in her mind. “Bragged me up?” she repeated slowly. “What do you mean? What did she tell you?”

“That you work too hard, and let everyone take advantage of you. That you live in an apartment surrounded by Hells Angels, crackheads, and the criminally insane. That you come across as bossy and managing, but you’d give the shirt off your back to a stranger in need—”

Nancy winced. “Oh, no. I see where this is going.”

“And that you’re definitely not married,” he concluded. “She also told me you’d be here for her birthday. She wanted to introduce us.”

“Oh, God.” Nancy turned pink. That manipulative schemer.

Lucia would never have done this to her if this guy was taken. A swift glance at Knightly’s left hand confirmed that he wore no ring.

A glance that he intercepted. His subtle eye smile deepened. Her mortification deepened, too. “I’m, ah, sorry about that. You being put on the spot, I mean. Lucia couldn’t stand it that I’m single.”

“Yeah, that was my impression. It is really strange, though.”

She covered her hot cheeks with her hands. “What’s strange?”

“Strange that you’re single. You’re not what I expected.”

Don’t ask it. Don’t ask it. Don’t. “Ah…what did you expect?”

“Well, she told me you were beautiful. I could see that from the pictures. But she didn’t tell me how beautiful. Photos can’t show that.”

Beautiful? Oh, God. Strange, wild energy crackled through her nerves, as if he had touched her.

Out of nowhere, she started to imagine how it would feel if he did.

She started to vibrate. Strange that she was single? Whoo-hah. Little did he know. She forced her voice not to shake. “Don’t flatter me.”

“Who’s flattering?”

She looked away, flustered. She had no idea what to say to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly after a long moment. “I can’t believe I just said that to you, right now. It’s a bad time. Please forget I said it.”

“Um, it’s okay,” she murmured. Right. Like she could.

The easy, unexpected intimacy she had felt with him before was gone. Knightly’s face was cool and distant as they exchanged numbers. He and his assistant, Eoin, would unload supplies that day and start the kitchen tomorrow, though she had to clean stuff out of it first. They set a time to meet for the following morning, and that was that.