“I think it’s a date now,” she murmured when they finally came up for air a while later. She was breathing heavily and flushed, with sparkling eyes and a big grin. “How hungry are you?”

“For food, or for you?”

“You’ve answered my question.” She hopped off of his lap. He saw her smile when she glanced down at him. “How do you feel about cold chicken sliced into the salad?”

“What salad?” he joked, and she held out her hand to him.

The beeping oven timer told them the food was done when they re-entered the kitchen. The baked chicken was put into an appropriate container and into the refrigerator for later.

“It’s all set,” she told him.

“I’m sure it’s delicious, but I have other things on my mind right now,” he said, pulling her into his arms again. “Where would you like to go?”

“My room. It’s at the top of the stairs.”

One of the better things about his job was that he could carry a woman up a flight of stairs without even breaking a sweat. After shoving tackling dummies and offensive linemen around a football field, a warm, sweet-smelling woman wasn’t a chore at all. She wrapped her arms around his neck again and laid her cheek against his.

He walked through the doorway and halted in shock.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Not at all.” He couldn’t stop staring.

Kendall’s room was nothing like the rest of her house. The only thing in common was sunshine streaming through windows covered with crisp cotton curtains and the feeling of comfort. Her living room furniture was formal. This room was vintage. Her bed was an old-fashioned four poster painted with turquoise blue enamel. The sheets were blinding white. Multiple pillows rested against the headboard. A framed close-up photograph of a riotously-colored bouquet of flowers hung above the headboard. A raspberry-colored patterned throw rug covered most of the hardwood floor.

“It’s a little girly,” she said.

“It looks comfortable, though,” he said.

“I know you don’t sleep in a bed like this at home.”

“Maybe I do,” he joked.

“I’m betting you have a huge bed, the color scheme is dark blue or earth tones, and you’d rather be run over than spend one minute of your time making sure fifteen decorative pillows are perfectly arranged every morning.”

He walked over to the bed, lowered her onto it, and said, “We’d have to get out of it long enough to fix the pillows. I’m sure you can appreciate my dilemma right now.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded at the headboard. “Do I put them on the bench at the foot of your bed like a good guest, or do I fling them all over the room and try to make it up to you later?”

Her smile dazzled him as she arched her back and reached toward the headboard. The decorative pillows were off the bed seconds later and scattered all over her room.

“How’s that?” she said.

“Perfect,” he said. She pulled him down next to her, and he went willingly. The thuds of four shoes hitting the floor followed. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her. They wriggled until they were both comfortable.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, smoothing the hair out of his eyes.

The heat and the urgency of their kisses on the glider outside had transformed into a much slower seduction. His hands slid down her sides to cup her hips. She tucked the curtain of her dark hair behind one ear as she leaned forward to rub noses with him.

“I’m happy too, Kendall, but I’m a little confused.”

“Why?”

“What you’ve said is true. We really can’t date. Someone’s going to find out, and it’s going to be hell to pay for both of us—”

“You told me you’re not interested in the Miners.”

“No, I’m not.”

“No matter how much money we offered you, what incentives are in your contract or that year’s worth of brats and Kringles I suggested—”

“They might get a little further if they offered dinner with their interim GM.”

“So in other words, I’m what you want,” she said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Then let’s make a deal,” she said. “A side offer, if you will.”

“I’m all ears.” She rubbed against him a little. God, she felt good.

“One night,” she said. “One night, and we’ll both go back to our lives.” Her voice dropped. “It’ll be our little secret.”

“That’s a pretty big secret,” he teased. “You might want more.”

“I might, but we can’t. Not right now.” Her eyes held his. “Deal?”

“Are we shaking on this?”

“Of course we are.”

“Well, then, I accept.”

She gave him a fist bump in response. She pulled herself up on his chest, straddled him, and he told himself to breathe. The late afternoon illuminated her skin in sunbeams. She was the beautiful conquering warrior home from the executive suite, and he was her willing servant/pool cleaner/lawn maintenance professional. He’d be anything she wanted him to be as long as she kept rubbing herself against his hard-on. She was driving him out of his mind, and they hadn’t taken off one stitch of clothing yet.

“I’ll remember that,” she teased. Her fingers moved over his chest, streaking fire as they went. “Back to our negotiation. What kind of contract concessions would you be willing to negotiate if I took off my clothes?”

She slowly licked her lower lip and gave him the same saucy, enticing, confident smile he imagined women had been giving the men in their beds since the beginning of time. She fingered the hem of her sweater, pulling it off over her head and letting it dangle from her fingertips before it hit the floor.

“I’d play for a dollar a year with those terms,” he said. A dollar? He’d pay them.

“A dollar?” She unbuttoned the top button of her slacks. “I don’t know about that. This might require more discussion.”

He brushed her fingers aside and made short work of the zipper. “I’m guessing sexual favors might work better.” With one quick movement, he shoved the pants over her waist and halfway down her hips. “Better?”

“You’re still dressed.”

“We’ll work on me in a minute here. Let’s make sure you’re comfortable first.”

He reached to pop open the back hooks on her bra; the lace and satin confection fell away to reveal breasts that fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, tipped with small brown nipples. Her eyes gleamed as he braced her against himself and rolled over so she was beneath him.

He stripped away her slacks and peeled off the panties that matched her bra, dropping them on the floor. He felt her hands skimming up his back, pulling the sweater and T-shirt he wore off with one quick movement over his head. She unbuckled his belt, unfastened the jeans, and tried to shove them off. She couldn’t budge his weight.

“Let me help,” he teased. He was out of the jeans and his boxer briefs less than a minute later. A few seconds afterward, he held a naked and trembling Kendall in his arms again. He couldn’t think of an endearment he hadn’t used before, and this occasion seemed to call for something special. He’d think about it right after he figured out why she was shaking. Maybe she wasn’t sure about what they were about to do, and he needed to back off.

“What’s wrong, Kendall?”

“Nothing.” She let out a sigh and reached out to pull his face closer to hers.

“You’re shaking all over. Are you scared?” He traced the tendon in her neck with the tip of his tongue. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

Her head tossed on the pillows that didn’t hit the floor earlier.

“Not scared. Maybe nervous.”

“Tell me all about it.”

She drew one finger down his chest. “You’re the first guy I’ve been with who didn’t wax off his chest hair.”

“I’m not into pain.” He kissed her brow. “Are you into pain?”

“Not especially.”

“Well, that works well for both of us, doesn’t it?”

She grinned at him, and she let out a breath. “How long has it been since you—well, since you slept with someone?”